#now the real question. do I simply go home and curl up in bed for the rest of the night or do I go bother Ramona?

[piningpercussionist]

Oh Toronto, how I... well, I sure as hell didn't miss you, but I am back.

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react when you fall asleep on them

Pairing: Nanami x reader; Gojo x reader; Inumaki x reader (first time yay, thank you @emzalot and @trysudio for the great idea <3)

Word Count: 3,4k

Warnings: not proofread because I really have to go to work right now lol, a little language here and there, otherwise fluff overload, will write a part ll of this so if you wanna get tagged leave a comment and let me know. Also, I'd appreciate it sooooo much if you'd interact with this fic and showed some support <3

Kento Nanami

It’s been a hell of a week. Work swallows you whole, curses appear like plagues out of nowhere. This summer seems to be worse than any year before, worse than anything you’ve ever witnessed despite the stinging fact that you are a grade 1 sorcerer.

“When was the last time you’ve slept, (y/n)?” Satoru questions playfully when you walk past him.

You have no energy for his bullshit right now, feet shuffling on the floor without a real aim. Oh, but you do have an aim-

Him.

“Can’t remember anymore. Let me go home now”, you mumble, heart beating a little faster just by the thought of it.

Going home means meeting him. After weeks of being apart, after weeks of not really seeing each other, you’ll finally come back home to him. Kento Nanami, the best boyfriend walking on this earth. Kento Nanami, who was the one who forced Gojo to talk to the elders in order to give you a few days off. Kento Nanami, who is the only thing on your mind except for sleep right now.

“Come on, let me drive you home, (y/n). No need for you to walk that whole way”, Gojo suggests.

You can’t argue. In fact, you don’t even want to. Even the thought of sitting for a few minutes seems like a relieve at the moment.

“Your man was really mad when he found out you were assigned for another bunch of missions this week, threatened to slap me if I don’t talk to the elders”, the man next to you comments amused while starting the car.

Kento is a calm and collected man, never too much of anything. But when it comes to you and your safety, he seems to put on another face.

Definitely a hot one.

“I hope he slapped you anyway”, you reply with a weak grin, earning a heartfelt laugh from Gojo.

“Not yet, but let me escort you to the door just in case.”

He stops the car, your numb body refusing to get up. You just started to get comfortable, maybe you’re able to rest your eyes on the passenger seat for a second…

“Come on, you just need to walk inside. Kento already waits for you.”

“Did you drive her here?”

Oh, that sweet voice. That sweet voice you get drunk on over and over again, that voice that lures you into relieving darkness. Now you’re save. Now you’re finally able to rest.

“Hey sweetheart, are you alright?”

His comforting touch caresses your cheek gently, you can tell he’s gazing down at you worried.  But as much as you want to lift you arms and finally embrace your boyfriend in a tight hug, as much as you are forcing your eyes to open and take in his striking sight, you simply can’t move.

“Let me carry you inside. You definitely need to rest now”, he mumbles.

Softly, he lifts you out of the passenger seat. You feel like melting away in an instant, the mixture of his masculine scent along with the warmth of his body being your personal heaven on earth. God, how much you love that man, how much adore that he stood up for you, that he lets you rest in his comforting arms right now.

“Thank you for helping me out”, Nanami addresses towards Gojo.

“No need for that. We’re buddies after all, right? And I don’t wanna get slapped by you. Good night, (y/n), sleep tight!”

As much as you’d love to bite back, your tongue is so numb you can’t even bring out anything apart from a minor groan.

Kento’s tall frame begins to walk, his tight muscles reflecting every little movement against your head. What a sensation it is, knowing that you’ll lay curled up next to him in bed within the next minutes.

“Missed you”, you mumble.

His touch brushes over your back comfortingly while he steps back into the warmth of your inviting home.

“I’m so glad you’re home again, sweetheart. But before you’re all mine, you have to catch up with your sleep. When was the last time you were able to rest?”

You can’t put a finger on it. Apart from a few short naps now and then, there was absolutely no chance to sleep for 3 hours straight within the last week. But telling Kento that definitely doesn’t seem like a good idea, not that you are able to build a straight sentence anyway.

“Don’t know”, you hush.

Gently, he lays you down onto your soft mattress. You curl up in an instant, taking in his scent inside the soft linen of your blanket. Oh, this feels like nothing but heaven. Especially because he positions himself next to you, pressing your back against his broad chest.

“Get your well-deserved rest. I won’t let something like that happen again”, he breathes against your ear.

“I love you, Kento. Thanks for standing up for me…”

His skilled fingers tuck a strand of hair that hangs in your face behind your ear before stroking your head just the way you like it.

“I will always look after you, (y/n). Now rest a little and tell me about the last weeks when you’re ready. I’ve already shopped for this evening, I want to cook your favourite meal for you.  And-“

He stops himself from talking, your low and steady breath making it more than clear that you are already sound asleep. With a small smile, Kento tucks you into the blanket and presses a kiss against your forehead. Oh, how much you deserve to finally rest, how lovely you look with your relaxed facial features and your head completely swallowed by your pillow

“Sleep tight, I love you more than anything else, (y/n).”

Satoru Gojo

“No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You can’t hold in a yawn, teary eyes staring at the man in front of you. That definitely was a rough mission. So rough that Satoru Gojo had to step in to save your puny ass. And if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you can barely keep your eyes open. That fucking demon you weren’t able to exorcise all night, fucking Satoru Gojo who took forever to come to your rescue.

“I’m fine”, you grumble, avoiding his gaze at any cost.

Why on earth does it have to be him? Why Satoru Gojo instead of someone decent like Geto? Now, you’ll have to live with his stupid comments for at least some months.

“Baby, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Don’t call me baby”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Get yourself together, keep your eyes open. Why on earth are you so damn tired right now? Maybe because you were fighting the whole night, maybe because you haven’t slept enough for ages.

“Feel free to rest a little, this car ride will take us some time”, Ijichi interrupts softly, gazing at you through the mirror.

“I’m fine”, you groan.

God, why is everything so damn annoying at the moment? Your eyes wander to the man next to you who just grins from ear to ear. It’s because of him, that fucker over there.

“Don’t worry, I will take care if something happens”, he assures you.

Urgh, you are too tired to deal with his shit-talking right now. You turn pointedly towards the window, staring into the rainy late morning. What time is it? You have no idea. All that you know is that you’ve been awake for more than 48 hours by now, your body being completely worn out and covered in bruises. Maybe Shoko will give you a decent pain killer that shoots you into another dimension. Yeah, that actually sounds nice.

Satoru’s eyes lay on you, how your body gets sluggish in the car seat with every passing minute. Until your head rests against the window, until your heavy eyes get the best of you and your mouth opens. Yes, you were completely worn out by the time he arrived. And it is more than well-deserved that you rest now. But why do you have to look this lovely while doing so?

“Is she asleep?”, Ijichi questions softly.

“Oh she definitely is. No wonder after that hell of a mission. Please turn the music down a little so she doesn’t wake up.”

Even though you’re always act cold towards him, Satoru can’t help but admire you from afar. You are so feisty, so strong, so lovely it takes his breath away. It seems like the only time he’s even able to look your way properly is when you are asleep.

And he enjoys every second of it.

Ijichi makes a sharp turn to the left, eyes widen in horror when another car is only inches away from crashing into him. Before Satoru is able to react, your body crashes against his, your head now resting against his shoulder. He holds his breath, heart almost beating out of his chest. He never came this close to you, not without you complaining. From here, you look even lovelier, your steady breath brushing against his neck in a way that makes him see start.

But you don’t seem to mind. No, instead your arm wraps itself around his as you rub your head against his shoulder in order to find a comfortable position.

“Is she still sleeping? I hope this didn’t wake her up…”

“Nah, she’s asleep”, Satoru mumbles.

The urge to touch you becomes almost unbearable. How is he supposed to sit still when you are cuddled against him like this? How is he supposed to not stretch out his hand when your hair looks so inviting, when he wondered about what your skin feels like since knowing you?

A little touch can’t hurt, right? A simple, innocent touch…

Slowly, his trembling fingertip brushes over your cheek. It feels like electricity is running through his veins where his skin meets yours. You really are strikingly beautiful, even when your face is squished against his shoulder, even when your mouth hangs slightly open. And oh, the perfume you wear smells absolutely intoxicating. How is it possible he never realized how good you smell?

“Hello?”

He stares at you with his eyes wide open, movement stuck in its tracks while you blink away the sleep and gaze up at him in drunken confusion.

“Are we there yet?”

“No, we’re still on our way back”, he explains briefly.

You look around, the realization of where you are slowly but surely hitting you like a wall. Oh god, is this Satoru Gojo you’re resting your head on? And is it his hand that cups your cheeks.

“I-Im so sorry!”, you stutter, instantly lifting yourself up and stroking your hair.

Fuck, why is this so embarrassing? Even Gojo’s cheeks get light pink while he avoids your gaze, fumbling with his hands frantically.

“Nah I’m sorry. Should have pushed you back…”

You swallow hard, death silence hanging in the air. Even though you only slept for maybe 10 minutes, you feel like you haven’t had such a good nap in a long time. Was is because of him? Is it because you feel…safe?

“Your shoulder was quite comfortable”, you mutter before you can stop yourself.

“Yeah, you think so?”

“Somehow, yeah…”

Is Satoru Gojo maybe not as bad as you thought? He could have yanked your body back into the seat immediately if he wanted to. Hell, you wouldn’t have been able to even touch him if he didn’t allow it. So maybe, just maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought he does.

Just like you.

“Well, you can come over here anytime y’know.”

Your eyes dart towards him in an instant, looking for a single spark of dark humour on his face. But no. All he does is awkwardly smiling and patting his shoulder like he’s inviting you over.

Is this…Alright? Should you really do it?

“Your arm seems comfier than the window, so why not…”

Hesitantly, you loosen your seatbelt and slide into the middle seat right next to him. The warmth radiating from his body seems to swallow you whole in an instant, a yarn escaping you just by the thought of continuing your nap.

“Don’t you dare to tell anybody about this”, you mumble against his shoulder, eyelids already so heavy that you fail to keep them open.

“I will use this against you whenever I have the chance to.”

“Sato…”

Toge Inumaki

It’s hard to keep your eyes open when the old fart in front of you talks about his boring and made up adventures for over 2 hours by now. Not even the stinging fact that your crush is sitting next to you can keep you from holding your head in your hands, eyes slowly but surely closing.

Unexpectedly you feel a hand tapping against your forearm, ripping you out of your daydreams. Toge’s smile catches you off guard, sweeps you off the ground and almost off your chair. How embarrassing, did you really almost fall asleep while sitting next to him? Today was the first time you’ve had enough courage to ask him if he wants to sit next to you. How are you even able to be tired when he’s so close you can literally feel the heat radiating from his body?

With a firm smile, he slides a little note your way.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep”

You swallow, cheeks heating up in an instant. So he noticed? Oh no, earth should swallow you whole and get you out of this mess as soon as possible. Even though you can tell by his gorgeous eyes that he’s grinning, you can’t help but feel deeply ashamed.  

“Thank you”, you mutter through gritted teeth, eyes darting towards the old fart in front.

Why didn’t you go to sleep early tonight, why did you read through all of those chapters when you knew that you’ll have a lecture early in the morning? That slow burn just really got you. Oh, but the main character reminds you so much of him. Him, the boy who doesn’t speak in anything but sushi ingredients in order to save all of you from getting cursed. Him, whose smile could enchant entire nations. Him, who stole your heart since you’ve joined Jujutsu High along his side back then.

But why do you have to make it so complicated, why do you have to act so damn strange around him? Toge must think you’re a total freak, always admiring him from afar while never really talking much with him. Even though he agreed on sitting next to you today, he might have done it because he feels sorry for you.

Your head sinks deeper and deeper, eyes closing themselves before you are able to stop them. When you get home, you’ll definitely finish that enemies to lovers story you’ve read all night. Maybe you’ll be able to be proud of youself for asking him out when you’re back in your room. And just maybe, you’ll be able to ask him out on a date sometime. Maybe stargazing? Or watching a movie together. Just the thought of cuddling with him…

Toge’s eyes dart towards you. Considering your slow breaths and how your head rests in your arms, you definitely fell asleep. Gently, he shakes your shoulder and back, taps your arm and slides a note your way.

“Tuna tuna”, he mumbles inaudibly.

But nothing works. No, your body doesn’t move an inch except for your head that searches a comfortable position. Slowly but surely, your head threatens to wander off the desk, sending you straight towards the floor.

His eyes dart around frantically. What is he supposed to do now? He can’t let the old man notice you fell asleep and risk that you’ll hurt your head. But on the other hand…

Touching you is something he imagined quite often. Since he first laid his eyes on you, it was over. Searching for you in every crowd, sitting next to you as often as possible, protecting you at any cost. Yes, Toge Inumaki fell head over heels for you.

But somehow it seems like you aren’t that interested in him, avoiding his gaze as good as possible, always mumbling short answers only. It surprised him when you came up to him today and asked him to sit next to you, his heart still beating out of his chest just by your presence. Would you be mad, disgusted even if he grabbed you, even if only to save you from falling to the ground?

He clenches his hands into fists, watching in horror as you begin to slide down your chair. What is he supposed to do?

In the matter of seconds, his hands grab your uniform just before you’re about to fall to the floor, catching you just in time and pulling your head onto his lap.

Onto his lap.

You are laying in his lap.

Oh god, this feels so right. No, he has to focus, what will you think of him when you wake up like that? And what will the others do when they catch both of you in this strange-looking position? His face goes pale in an instant, hands desperately holding onto your back so you don’t slide down. This is bad, very very bad. But on the other hand…

No, he can’t enjoy the fact that you’re laying in his lap right now, he can’t allow to let himself fall like that. You are asleep, it would be disgusting to use you like that. Especially when you clearly don’t like him the way he likes you.

He has no other chance but to wake you up.

“Sake”, he mutters along with gently tapping your shoulder.

“Sake.”

You don’t react. Instead, you cuddle yourself into his lap, arm now resting across his legs. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in and out.

“Sake!”, he hisses into your ear as loud as possible with somebody else noticing.

You jerk up, eyes darting around in confusion. What just happened? You must’ve fallen asleep. Urgh, that old fart is still talking…

“Tuna tuna?”

You blink at the boy next to you with doe eyes. He looks absolutely messed up, glossy orbs staring at you in pure horror. Oh no, did you do something embarrassing? Did you snore next to him? Or worse, did you drool?

Frantically, you wipe over your face. This is a nightmare and you’re still absolutely drained.

“I-I’m sorry”, you stutter.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just a idiot and went to bed way too late last night”, you blubber out.

Gently, Toge grabs the arm that is about to wipe over your face again mid-air and slides another note your way.

“You look cute when you sleep. Would you like to have a movie night when you’re fit again?”

You stare at the neatly written note with widen eyes. This can’t be real, right? Your crush didn’t just ask you out after you passed out on the desk during lecture. It’s like your tongue is stuck in your throat, mouth not able to move. This is way too good to be true, something you’ve dreamt about each and every night. Toge, having a movie night with you?

He stares at you nervously, how you blink over and over again in sheer disbelief. Oh no, was this a mistake, do you think he is a freak for asking you out on a movie night just after you fell asleep? What if you know that you laid in his lap, that he touched you without permission? This was a stupid idea, you made it clear multiple times that you aren’t interested in him like that-

“I…I’d love to”, you suddenly mutter so silently that Toge almost misses it.

“Salmon?”

“Yeah…I mean, if you’re still up for a meeting…”

“You two, will you shut up already? I’ll remove you from this class if you keep on talking!” the old man suddenly screams so loud that you flinch, sitting straight in your chair in an instant while your eyes dart towards him.

Toge shoves another note your way.

“I’m really excited about meeting you.”

Tags:

 @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

[pierregazly]

are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

[cuubism]

now, this one got REAL. unfortunately. do you want some angst (+hurt/comfort +fluff)

cw burnout, depression, animal death

--

It started when Jessamy died.

Or.

Well.

Hob is pretty sure it started when Dream was a teenager, if not even earlier. But it comes to a head nearly fifteen years later, when Hob comes home from work and finds Dream sitting on the floor by the couch, Jessamy held in his arms. She is still. And Dream is equally still, equally numb, staring off into space.

Hob knew it was coming someday soon. Dream had had Jessamy since he was twelve, when he’d found her as a kitten by the side of the road and somehow convinced his parents to let him keep her, so she was not a young cat, and while her health had generally been good she’d been increasingly tired and wobbly lately. And cats didn’t live forever.

She looks peaceful, there in Dream’s arms. It isn’t a bad death for a cat, Hob thinks, to curl up in a patch of sunlight on the couch and just not wake up again. Not that that will make Dream feel much better.

Hob sits down beside Dream on the floor. Doesn’t say anything, but lays his hand on Dream’s knee. Dream just keeps staring off into the distance, one hand lightly stroking Jessamy’s fur.

“She didn’t come to greet me,” he says, eventually, when they’ve been sat there for some time. “She always comes to the door.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Hob says.

Dream sits there for a long time, just holding her. Later Hob helps him bury her in the garden, then Dream goes upstairs and buries himself under the blankets in their bed and doesn’t come back out for the rest of the night.

Later Hob will think, that was the first domino to fall. Even later, he will realize it wasn’t the first, but the last.

~

Dream was often seen as stoic. Unemotional. Hob thought so too, when he’d first met him. But he’d quickly come to learn that the real Dream was extremely sensitive and had simply learned to keep all of that inside and present a functional front to the world. And Dream was, indeed, exceedingly functional. Not just functional, Dream was brilliant. He’d graduated top of his college, and he’d gone to Oxford, and then he’d launched a tech company, and even published a novel on the side simply because he enjoyed doing it. When it came to standard metrics of success, Dream was one of the most functional and successful people Hob had ever met.

And Dream was crashing.

~

Hob comes home from work a bit late one day to find Dream slumped on the couch, face pressed into a pillow. The TV is on, but he doesn’t seem to be watching it. There’s a book on the table beside him, but he isn’t reading. He’s just lying there. Listlessly.

“You alright, love?” Hob asks, and Dream just shrugs one shoulder under his blanket.

“I fell asleep on the couch in my office,” he says, “so I came home.”

This immediately rings Hob’s alarm bells because Dream doesn’t do that. He doesn’t come home early from work. He barely takes a lunch break.

“Feeling ill?” Hob asks, perching on the couch beside him.

Dream shrugs again.

“Want some dinner?”

“I suppose.”

He’s barely looked at Hob. He’s not even budged from his sprawl on the couch. But when Hob gets up to get dinner, Dream reaches out, snags a hand in his sleeve, squeezes once and lets go.

Hob leans down to kiss his forehead, and Dream sighs.

Hob brings dinner back to the living room a half hour later, and Dream sits up with him and eats but barely says a word. He listens as Hob talks about his own day but barely contributes beyond brief answers to Hob’s questions.

After dinner he lies down with his head in Hob’s lap and goes quiet again. Hob is starting to get worried, but he gives him the benefit of the doubt. It could just be an off day.

Dream falls asleep in Hob’s lap, and then later gets up and goes to bed at barely 9pm despite how he’s normally a night owl.

“Dream?” Hob says, before Dream retreats to their bedroom. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I am just tired,” Dream says.

Then he sleeps for ten hours and wakes barely early enough to get to his office on time. And doesn’t seem particularly concerned about it. Then again, Dream does own the company, and can hardly fire himself for being late. But he’s normally much more particular about it.

Then it’s an off two days. Then it’s an off week. Then it’s an off two weeks.

Hob comes home from work and, instead of finding Dream back on his laptop doing more work, or working on his novel, he’s just lying in bed with the covers over his head. Earbuds in, listening to music or an audiobook. I’m tired, he says when Hob asks. I don’t feel well.

Do you want to work on your novel? Hob asks. Usually cheers you up.

Dream’s novels are an escape from the stresses of his other work. He’d published the first one under a pen name so it would have no connection to his company or anything else about him. He’d been so proud when it hit the bestseller list.

No, Dream says. I don’t care. It’s meaningless.

Worry is starting to sit heavier and heavier in Hob’s chest.

Hob’s known for almost as long as he’s known Dream that Dream struggles with a latent, underlying level of depression, but it’s been well managed thus far and he’d thought Dream had found an equilibrium with it.

Apparently it was a much more fragile equilibrium than he’d realized, because now everything seems to have tipped and flipped over.

At first he thinks Dream isn’t doing anything about it. But then Hob learns that he is, and that almost feels worse, because now Hob doesn’t know where to even start helping him. Dream has already taken medication for years. He’s recently increased his dose and it’s done nothing. He already sees a therapist. He’s started going twice as often as he did before and still nothing seems improved. He hasn’t pulled away from Hob. He still curls up to him in bed at night, and lays on the couch with his head on Hob’s lap while they watch TV. He lets Hob drag him around doing things he thinks might cheer him, like walks in the park, feeding the pigeons, going to the botanical gardens to look at flowers. If Hob cooks something, he’ll eat, but he makes no effort to eat otherwise.

He goes, he does things, but he isn’t there. He’s checked out, distracted, and his smiles are hollow.

Hob watches him pick up books he would normally love, read one page and then put it down again. Watches him abandon the newspaper crossword puzzles he usually likes to do over breakfast after solving only one or two questions. Watches him get dressed in the morning, putting on his usual all-black attire with a mechanical precision that suggests he’s operating on autopilot and not thinking about it at all. He just doesn’t seem to care about any of it, and Dream normally cares so much about everything that it’s really starting to freak Hob out.

Hob asks him if he’s okay and he says he’s just tired. Hob asks him why and he says he doesn’t know. And the worst part is, Hob believes him. He doesn’t think Dream does know what’s wrong. It’s not just grief for Jessamy that’s doing it. Hob thinks it’s more that Jessamy was a tiny piece of a support structure that was far more meager than either of them realized, and now all the rest of the heaviness has come crashing down. That doesn’t mean Dream has the words for what any of that is, though.

Hob worries about him when he’s at work. He worries about him whenever Dream is out of his sight. He thinks about how relentless and intense Dream usually is and contrasts it with his current listlessness and he worries.

He thinks about Dream graduating university with honors while he built a whole fucking company in his dorm room and wrote the first half of a novel on the side, and he worries.

Dream had always made time for Hob then, too. And he always has since. Or maybe being with Hob was the sanctuary he carved out for himself amidst the whirlwind of all that he was.

Now more often than not Dream comes home and immediately collapses on top of Hob on the couch and doesn’t speak a word for a least two hours. Hob is just glad that, whatever’s going on, he at least isn’t fully isolating himself. He’s still coming to Hob for comfort, in whatever way he knows how.

The next time it happens, Hob messages Lucienne, Dream’s COO. In fact he does it from his phone while Dream is lying on top of him, and Dream doesn’t even notice.

Has Dream been alright at work recently? he writes.

Lucienne responds fairly quickly. She’s a bit of a workaholic, just like Dream. I am not sure he would want me sharing all his business without his knowledge.

Hob sighs. He supposes it’s fair that she’s protective of her boss. Lucienne. Come on. Please. I’m worried about him.

He seems tired lately, she writes, at length. And distracted.

Anything in particular going on?

No, if anything, we are in a bit of a slow down at the moment. There is not as much on our plates.

Odd.

Do take care of him, Hob, Lucienne adds.

Always will, Hob says.

He puts his phone aside, and pets Dream’s hair. Dream hums in pleasure, nuzzling into him. “Sweetheart. You want some dinner?”

“If you desire,” Dream says.

Hob’s not convinced he would eat anything at all if Hob didn’t push him.

“Come on, up, we’ll get something to eat,” Hob says, and Dream groans, but lets Hob maneuver him up, and sits placidly in the kitchen with the cup of water Hob pushes into his hands as Hob cooks. He is so placid, lately, in general. Hob is used to Dream being strong-willed and opinionated. It’s upsetting to see him passive.

All he can do for now, though, is take care of Dream as best he can. As he always does.

~

It hits a breaking point when Dream simply doesn’t go into work at all.

Hob is working from home that day, and doesn’t notice at first that eight o’clock has passed and Dream hasn’t left the house. At around nine he goes to make more coffee and realizes, suddenly, that Dream’s shoes are still by the door, his coat still hanging on its hook. So Hob goes to find him.

He finds Dream still lying in bed, not asleep, just sort of staring blankly at the wall, arms wrapped around himself. Hob lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hi, darling. You getting up for work?”

“No,” Dream says, flatly. “I cannot. I don’t want to.”

So Hob calls Lucienne to let her know Dream’s sick and won’t be coming in. He can hear her concern over the phone. Dream almost never calls in sick. If he gets something contagious, he just works from home instead of resting.

Maybe this is part of the problem. Maybe this is all part of the huge, looming cloud of pain that has apparently been covering Dream like a shroud for longer than Hob’s even known him without Hob ever truly seeing it.

When he puts his phone away and comes back Dream is still lying in the same position. Heart in his throat, Hob climbs into bed to sit beside him. “I told Lucienne you’d be out today,” he says gently. Dream turns over to face him, wrapping his arm around Hob’s thigh to pull close. That gives Hob some hope. That Dream still wants to reach out. “She was worried about you.”

Dream looks up at him solemnly. “And you?”

“I’ve been worried about you for a long time, darling. Talk to me.”

“I meant to go in today,” Dream says. “I have things to do. I suppose. But. I realized that I don’t care about any of it. I tried to remind myself how to care about it. But I could not remember. And so there was no point in getting up.”

“Perhaps you’re a bit stressed about it all,” Hob suggests, but Dream shakes his head.

“I do not feel anything about it at all. I think the company could disappear entirely in this moment and I would feel nothing but this... numbness. I ought to care. But I don’t. It’s meaningless.” He presses his forehead into Hob’s thigh. “I think it ought to scare me. But I don’t feel that either. I don’t feel anything.”

Hob breathes out hard. “Okay. Alright.” He pets Dream’s hair as he thinks. He doesn’t feel very equipped to handle this, but Dream’s regular therapy and meds don’t seem to be doing anything so he’s going to have to try. And if Dream’s regular routine isn’t helping then maybe it’s not his usual depression. Then maybe Hob can work out something to begin to help. “Maybe we need to take you on a very, very long holiday. So you can have a rest.”

Dream lets out a choked laugh, though when he speaks there’s no humor in it. “Hob. I think if I stop moving for that long. I will not get up again. So if you wish to have a functional partner, you may want to withdraw that suggestion.”

Hob feels his heart break in two. “What if I want an alive partner?”

“I am not planning to kill myself.”

“Recently it seems you’re well on your way to it, Dream.”

Dream is silent for a long moment, then says, voice cracking, “I am not trying to—”

“I know, I know, honey,” Hob slides down the bed to rest beside him, pulling Dream into his arms. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know any other way to be,” Dream cries, pressing his face into Hob’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my love.” They have been together since university. He’s seen Dream go through bouts of depression before. But he’s never seen him like this. Fracturing at the seams. It’s frightening. “I love you so much, do you know?”

“I know.” He squeezes Hob close. “I do know.”

“I don’t care how functional you are,” Hob says, making a clear mockery of the word, and Dream laughs weakly. “I do actually like you, you know. You. Not Mr Great Tech Innovator.”

Dream groans. “Please do not call me a ‘tech innovator’ or I may have to actually kill myself out of shame.”

Hob remembers when Forbes had wanted Dream to be in their thirty under thirty issue and Dream had refused because he thought it was ‘stupid and self-aggrandizing’ and because he ‘didn’t put in years of work for the purpose of being on the cover of an insipid magazine.’ Hob loves this stupid idiot so much.

Dream doesn’t do any of it for fame. Hob doesn’t entirely know why he does it. He think maybe pouring all of himself out is the only thing Dream knows.

“When’s the last time you feel you got an actual break?” Hob asks.

Dream thinks about it. “Year 10,” he says at last. “I spent the summer holiday doing nothing but reading. It was blissful.”

“Dream, that was fifteen years ago."

“After that summer I was always working somehow. Doing advanced class prep work. Then university prep.” He gives Hob a sly sidelong glance, and despite the heavy topic, Hob internally cheers to see a bit of his humor come back. “Needless to say, I was not spending my free time partying when I was in school.”

No, Hob knew that about him. Dream is practically incapable of having fun. Even one of his supposedly stress-relieving outlets, writing, he’s managed to turn into a side career as an author. And Hob knows that, unless one is a verifiable genius, one doesn’t earn the perfect marks Dream had all through school without sacrifice. Hob had gotten good marks, too, but Dream had always been a step above.

And he knows Dream’s parents had always demanded utter perfection. Whether they ever rewarded him for any of it, Hob doesn’t know.

“Hey, darling,” he says. “You’re doing a good job.”

Dream whimpers, pushing his face into Hob’s chest.

“You’re doing enough,” Hob continues. “You’re doing so well. I promise. It’s all okay. It’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” Dream says. He clings to Hob, wrapping his arms around him, slipping one leg in between Hob’s thighs. “So much.”

It would be easy to feel insecure around Dream’s level of success, except that Dream’s love for Hob is so obvious. To Hob it is, at least. Dream cares for him so deeply, in his way, and he never acts like he thinks Hob is lesser for not being someone Forbes is pursuing for their lists. If anything, Dream usually discounts his own success, and is, generally speaking, obsessed with Hob and everything Hob does.

This is also a visceral reminder of the costs of this type of success.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he says, rocking Dream in his arms.

“I have been feeling. Somewhat unwell, recently,” Dream admits. “Increasingly so. I suppose I ought to be grateful, in a way, that my mind forced me to shut down before my body did.”

Hob’s not sure he himself feels quite grateful about it, but he is glad Dream at least recognizes the problem.

“We’ve just got to send you to the seaside for your health,” he says.

Dream laughs, genuinely this time. “Truly.”

“Get you a little break. It’ll help, I promise. You’ve just been over-working yourself, hm?”

“I do not think it is my current level of work that is the problem,” Dream says. “I think. I have been running so long. I simply cannot anymore. Effort, itself, is not a problem for a marathon runner. But duration eventually becomes exhausting.”

“I know. It’s okay. Might need a bit longer of a break, is all.”

“I do not know how,” Dream says.

“You let everyone else at work take breaks, don’t you?”

“I used to not,” Dream says. “Not enough of them. Until Lucienne made it quite clear that I was being unfair to them. I was not trying to be. I was simply… used to my own work patterns and did not realize the strain it was putting on them.”

“But you changed it,” Hob says. “You can change it for yourself, too.”

“Perhaps,” Dream says.

“Hire someone who can do some of your tasks and then give yourself a little break. Go somewhere warm and sit on a beach and drink sugary cocktails.”

Dream laughs. “I don’t know if my brain is suited to that.”

“Exactly why you should do it.”

“Will you come with me on this… health retreat by the sea?” Dream asks, some humor back in his voice.

“Course. I’ll take a sabbatical and go with you. But also. Do you think you might want a bit of time to yourself?”

“By myself?” Dream questions. “I do have time to myself. I am already quite solitary.”

“I know. But. Do you think you’d want a bit of extended time to just do what you want to do?” It would hurt, to be away from Dream for an extended period of time. But he wants Dream to have that, that freedom to be completely unburdened, to have no expectations, if it will help him.

“Hmm.” Dream considers. “Perhaps a bit. But I like to be with you.”

“I like to be with you, too, my love. Think about somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. And we’ll go. Or if you just want to rest here, that’s fine, too.”

“You don’t have to do all this,” Dream says quietly.

“I want you to be well,” Hob says. “More than anything, I want you to be well.” He kisses Dream’s forehead. “Besides if you don’t think I’m already imagining us on a beach—”

Dream laughs. “I see.”

“Come now, you want to see me shirtless, don’t you?” Hob teases.

“I see you shirtless every day,” Dream says dryly.

“Don’t you want to get extremely drunk and naked and fool around in a luxury villa?”

“What counts as ‘extremely’ naked?” Dream asks. “Taking off my skin?”

“Dream.”

Dream chuckles. “I do. That sounds enjoyable. I would like to leave my laptop at home and perhaps wander around a seaside village, drinking wine until I have killed all of my brain cells.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it,” Hob says.

“Hob,” Dream says, serious again.

“Yeah?”

“What if I take a break,” Dream asks, quietly, “And then I cannot convince myself to go back?”

There’s true grief in his voice, but still Hob counters, “What if you take a break and you feel better?”

Dream smiles, faintly, Hob feels it against his skin. “Always the more positive attitude.”

“One of us has to.”

“But what if,” Dream continues, “I take a break and I learn that I never wanted to do any of it at all?”

This is a stickier question. “Why would you have done any of it, if you didn’t want to? You must have wanted to on some level.”

“I don’t know,” says Dream. “It is just what I’m used to.”

“Maybe you’ll want to again,” Hob says. “Maybe you won’t. Can’t we take it one day at a time?”

Dream lets out a long, aggrieved breath. “You are so nonchalant.”

“Thought that’s one of the reasons you liked me.”

“It is,” Dream says, sounding incredibly frustrated about it. “Yet I do not understand it in the slightest. You truly just… have faith that everything will work out regardless?”

“I have faith we can figure it out,” Hob says. “And that I’ll always have your back. That you’ll never have to work through it alone.”

“You are a wonderful partner,” Dream says. Then, “I would like to go out tonight.”

“You… would?”

Dream nods. “I would like to remember what it was like when we first met. And I feel sorely lacking in romance and I’m well aware it’s my own doing. I know it may not feel the same right now but I want to... try. And. I miss you. Will you take me out on a date?”

Hob is thrilled by this turn. “Of course I will. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Can you also tell Lucienne I will be out sick this week and then hide my laptop and phone somewhere I will not find them?”

Hob laughs. “Alright, darling. Get some rest for today, hm? We’ll go out for drinks or something later. I have missed you. I’ve missed seeing you cheery.”

“‘Cheery’ may be pushing it,” Dream says, with a small smile. “However. I would like to have sex tonight.”

Hob bursts out laughing, not at the idea, but at the absolutely flat way Dream says it. He really does have a way about him.

“It’s been too long,” Dream whines.

It has been too long. “Oh, don’t think I’m saying no,” Hob says, and slips a hand up under Dream’s shirt to feel up his back. Dream laughs, snuggling closer to him. It’s so good to hear him laugh.

“Anything you want, anything that will make you happy,” he says. “I love you more than anything.”

Dream leans up to kiss him, long and sweet, then collapses atop him again, as he has nearly every day for weeks. Except this time it doesn’t feel quite so defeated. It feels like it could maybe be rest.

[hearted-anon]

Tickletober Day 18: Snuggle

Words: 1024 Note: this duo this duo this duo T/w: soft tickles only, next might be rough though Taglist: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya-apollos-kid @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one Lee: Know Ler: Channie

“I really like this.”

“Hyung, you’re getting on my nerves, be quiet.”

“Mmm, when do I not get on your nerves though?”

“Ugh, whatever.”

Minho grumbled; a frown etched onto his face that Chan knew all too well was not real in the slightest. Originally, Lee Know had taken oh such very precious time out of his day to drag his exhausted body out of he and Jisung's shared room to visit the Aussie, who had dramatically complained in the hallways that he was going to die from a headache if a member didn't bring him soup this instant. Being the not-so-secret caring younger he was, he was quick to bring a fresh bowl of chicken noodle soup to the elder, ignoring the countless praise he got and the endless cooing, despite a tinge of red slowly creeping up on his cheeks suggesting otherwise of what he thought on the compliments.

However, it was more of a ploy just to trick the younger into thinking he was in need of help, immediately seizing the opportunity to wrap his arms around the younger, who instantly screamed in protest akin to a cat who was going into a bath. Snuggling poor Minho into the leader's arms, he carried the cat over to his bed, carefully settling him down before smiling in triumph, ignoring how the younger was pounding at his back or clawing at his arms; he had grown used to these gestures after countless times of cuddles. When Lee Know realised he wasn't going anywhere, he leaned into the touch, letting himself be snuggled up.

"Who's my cute, grumpy little cat?" Chan cooed, squishing one of the dancer's cheeks and earning a soft yell of protest. Humming a whimsical tune, he resorted to burying his nose into the cat's neck, nuzzling the area with a chaste affection that made Minho squeal in surprise. The Aussie could practically feel how the younger was shaking to keep the giggles inside his throat, his entire face beginning to redden to keep himself quiet. Now that wouldn't do, no one gets to be all quiet in Chan's snuggles. Moving his fingers, he slowly and tantalisingly clawed at Minho's sides, chuckling at the way his back instantly arched at the sensations.

"Aha- Hyuhuhung! Noho!" Minho whined, fingers failing to push Chan's away through his unrelenting struggles. The elder simply tossed his leg over him, tugging him closer to enjoy the scent of mint and a tinge of soup on the younger. He internally wondered how Minho always carried such a home-like scent to him, inhaling it like it was a Michelin starred food. Feeling a slight bit mischievous, Chan brought his fingers up to Minho's ribs, feeling for each and every bone and wiggling his fingers to the fleshy skin in-between the bones.

"Chahahahan! Plehehease!" Minho pleaded to no one in particular, a bunny-like smile beginning to form on his face at the constant tickles. No matter how much he squirmed, tried to hide himself, or even curl up into a ball to protect himself from the invading tickles, the leader was always gentle in getting him to open back up, almost patient in a sense, awaiting to see if Minho wanted more whenever he would shield himself for a short period of time. What felt more embarrassing to him was that he found himself leaning into more tickling, more affection from the elder, giggling his heart out freely. His usual crazed laughter died down into a sweet melody, eyes crinkling into a sense of happiness.

"Hmm? I'm always here to listen, what's up?" Chan questioned, taking his head out of Lee Know's neck for a moment to face him fully, aweing out loud when he was met with the sight in front of him. Some part of him wished to snap a picture of such a blissful expression and hang it up on the wall, but he knew if he even tested that he wouldn't ever see the light of day again. After a loud whine, Chris indeed realised that he wasn't allowed to stop the gentle ministrations on Minho's body, diving his head back into the younger's neck and placing a few chaste kisses onto the back of the skin, being sure to linger each one, the slow sweep of his lips tickling much more than expected.

"Ehehehe! Noho! Nohoho kisses!" Minho complained, and it started to make Chan think that really, every single little complaint that spilt from his mouth really was an indication to continue. Putting it to the test, the Aussie began to slowly remove himself from the snuggles as per Lee Know's request, only to be pulled back roughly as the younger jutted out his bottom lip in an obvious pout, glaring at Chris from behind. Snickering to himself about his theory being proven right, his heart could only feel so light, happy that even the grumpiest of members still wanted and craved his affection on boring days like these.

However, all good things have to come to an end, a curious Chan peeking over when the sweet song of giggles had quietened down into nothing, cooing when he saw Minho completely knocked out on the elder's bed, fingers twitching and curling around a nearby pillow every once in a while. His eyes were peacefully closed with his lips parted ever so slightly with a calming blush dusting his cheeks. Chan swore somewhere in him that his heart exploded at the endearing sight, pressing his lips against the younger's forehead before whispering a tiny goodnight, pulling them both into a deep slumber after throwing a blanket on themselves. The evening's glow began to settle in too, illuminating them in a sunset's gradient as they both slept in tranquility.

Although they had only slept for at least two hours, they were surprised to find that Minho's homemade soup was completely gone, shaking their heads simultaneously when they saw a certain 'married couple' walk by with their heads in a bowl of soup. Dragging Minho back into his snuggle pile, maybe they really could use more rest; seeing how neither of them was against the idea.

[unclewaynemunson]

Something’s off. Steve notices it as soon as he gets home. It’s nothing major, really, but something’s definitely off. There’s this weird silence in the hallway, instead of the usual metal that Eddie is basically blasting 24/7 whenever Steve isn’t home. There’s the absence of Olly showing his little face around the corner of the door to the kitchen upon hearing Steve coming in. There’s also the absence of some crazy scent explosion emerging from the kitchen like on a usual Tuesday evening.

Steve calls out Eddie’s name, questioning, not sure if he should be worried.

“Here!”

He releases a relieved breath and gets into the living room. Eddie is his usual messy self, wild curls hanging over one end of the couch and feet wrapped in colorful socks over the other, with Olly curled up and purring on his chest.

“Hey there,” Steve says. It isn’t until he comes closer to lean down for a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, that he notices something is most definitely very, very wrong. Eddie’s eyes are swollen and red-rimmed, salty traces covering his cheeks and used tissues scattered all over the floor next to the couch. His hands are clenching into Olly’s fur, his chest is heaving unsteadily.

Eddie looks up at Steve, blinks once, twice, to get the water out of his eyes, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek.

“What happened, love?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his own, creating their familiar pile of Olly-Eddie-Steve, his thumb stroking over the back of Eddie’s hand.

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “Wayne’s sick.”

XXX

The thing is, Wayne has always been the strong one. Always. He was the arms that caught Eddie, the hands that wiped away his tears, the lips that kissed his bruises better despite his prickly beard. And now he’s - frail. There’s simply no other word for it. And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to be the strong one yet. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Of course he knows that Wayne isn’t some immortal being, that he’s lived a life of harsh physical labor and cold Indiana winters, of canned beans and breakfast cigarettes since he was only a boy... But this is different. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. And Wayne knows that, too.

“I always thought it was gonna be my lungs that’d do me in,” he tells Eddie.

Eddie never thought of his uncle as an old man. But now, sitting next to his hospital bed, both his hands clasped around Wayne’s, he sees it. He sees the lines on his forehead, the near-white shade of grey of what little hair he has left on his head, the tired look in his eyes, the age spots scattered all over his arms...

Eddie releases one of his hands to wipe over his eyes. He feels another pair of hands squeezing his shoulders from behind him, reminding him that he isn’t alone, that there’s still someone else who can be the strong one when Eddie can’t.

He takes a breath.

“Nothing’s doin’ you in, man,” he manages to choke out, strengthening his grip on Wayne’s hands. Those strong, calloused hands, that have lived through so much. The hands that caught him countless times. The hands that held him tight whenever he needed it. The hands that wiped away his tears. The hands that fixed his van. The hands that ruffled his curls. The hands that held a fishing rod like a pro. The hands that tirelessly drilled holes in walls and assembled furniture when Eddie moved out of the trailer and into the apartment he and Steve got in Indianapolis. The hands that are currently resting limply on top of white hospital sheets. Frail hands.

“Ed...”

“No, I’m serious,” Eddie says. He’s always been good at running. No way in hell he’s gonna stop that habit now. "You're gonna get better. And when you do, we'll take you back home, okay? Not to Hawkins - to your real home. You, me, Steve and the van, right? You’ll see the mountains again. We’re gonna drive all the way across them, get you back to the other side, ya hear me? It’ll be this great adventure, just the three of us. We’ll stay there for as long as we want to. And then we’ll go back to Indy, and you’ll move in with us, and we’ll take care of you. And you’ll be there when we get a real house, you’ll be there when we get our first little nugget, and every next one of them, and you’ll get to play with them and see them grow up and see us goin’ grey and gettin’ old and wrinkled and fat, and you’ll be there when Lord of the Rings gets made into a movie and when world hunger gets solved and when gay marriage becomes legal and when we get our first black president and when The Police reunites... That’s how it’s gonna go, you understand?”

There’s this look in Wayne’s eyes, this look that completely terrifies Eddie, and he can’t do a thing except for collapsing onto his uncle’s chest, breathing in his scent and crying against his shirt as Wayne’s hand tangles itself in Eddie’s curls. And it doesn’t matter - it doesn’t matter that Wayne is weak and sick and lying in a hospital bed. Because he’s still the strong one. He’s still the hands that catch Eddie when Eddie breaks down. Even now.

XXX

They should’ve known that Eddie would be right. Of course they should’ve known. No God can turn down someone as stubborn as Eddie Munson - not even a God Eddie doesn’t believe in.

Wayne missed the mountain air, the perfectly prepared corn fritters, the drool in the voices around him, the natural hospitality. It’s good to be back, to get to share his roots with his boys. But it’s not like coming home. Home is where his own parents moved him some fifty years ago, with dreams of a better future that didn’t quite hold for them. Home is a rickety trailer park that doesn’t have warm water most of the time. Home is the woods around Hawkins, the rolling hills, the chilly autumn wind. But most of all, home is the smile of the boy who took him here. It’s long dark curls and big brown eyes that are currently tearing up because Wayne is standing next to him and getting stronger by the day and very much alive. It’s the memories they share, of Wayne opening his arms to catch Eddie when he was so much smaller than now; of going fishing at Lover’s Lake in the weekends; of cigarette stubs and beer bottles and metal boxes that Wayne chose to not know the contents of; of laughter and crying and fear and comfort and a whole shared lifetime, a boy growing up and still needing to be caught again and again and again.

And Wayne still does it. He still catches his boy. His two boys, now. And he’s planning on keeping to do that for a long, long time.

[simpinberry]

omg babe i love your bella ramsey hcs, can you write hcs of bella ramsey comforting upset or insecure reader 💘

!!!!hehehehhe guys i’m so excited i got my first ask yayayayy!! also yes ofc i can <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>

im gonna do 3 diff scenarios that my brain came with up :>

✧ you could not get yourself to like yourself today. it was just one of those days where you need a little bit of extra reassurance :,) exiting your room and marching over to your lovely s/o sitting on the couch, placing yourself completely on top of her. “oh-okay, this is new, oww babe my glasses” you’d shush her and snuggle closer into him. “do u still love me?” istg the loudest silence broke over yall. bellas annoying and immediate reaction would be just super sarcastically offended. once she realises you’re serious, she’d be excited that this was her moment. they’d go on for a good thirty minutes, talking about how beautiful they find you. placing a kiss on his favorite features of yours, telling you how you belong in a fairytale book cuz he sometimes questions how you’re even real. she’d tell you in detail how down bad she was (and still is) when he first met you. would really get into explaining how much he admires you, respects how talented you are, loves all of your quirks, adores your lil annoying habits. she’d finish saying, “i’m so lucky to be able to exist at the same time as you and even luckier to get the honour to love you” and then BOOM YOU GET ALLLL SHYY AND GIGGLY “thank u i needed that :,)” “can we make out now or?”

✧ one night, she’d come home to find you attempting to make dinner whilst literally sobbing. she’d immediately be concerned noticing that you’re actually bawling and not cutting any onions. “sweets? what’s the matter?” she’d immediately offer you a hug that you sink into. you explain that you were frustrated because you really wanted to make her favorite meal and everything that could’ve gone wrong did. she’d chuckle slightly at you and cup your face with her hands, making you face her. she’d tell you you’re absolutely adorable and that she really appreciates the effort. she’d pat your head and run her fingers through your hair telling you that it’s okay to fail sometimes and how you shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself. she’d tell you to go take a hot shower/wash your face and they’d clean up the whole kitchen :,(( she would order some food from your favorite close by restaurant tooo. you guys would spend the rest of the night curled up together on the couch watching your comfort movie :>

✧ bella was on her way over to your apartment and he was late :( you had just failed one of your important uni assignments and you were sat on ur bed, crushed. to put it simply you were disappointed in yourself because you know you didn’t put enough into it and that’s why u got 33%. really all you wanted was your bella, her comforting smell and contagious giggle. tears filled up your eyes thinking about how mad your dad was gonna be and oh god, your mom was gonna say all that shit and go on her little rant and ugh :((( “what’s up loser, i bring choc brownies” bella happily bursting through the door with her mocking american accent. you faced away from her, trying to wipe your face. noting your unusual silence they scoot over to you, reaching out and taking your wrist in his hand. you finally face her with blood shot eyes and a runny nose :( her face softens and she engulfs you in a tight hug, bring you onto her lap. you let go and sob into her chest, feeling a little relieved. you guys rock back and forth for a bit until bella speaks up, “you wanna tell me what happened?”. so you do <3 you tell him everything, how you highkey feel like a failure, your parents and all the stress. you finish speaking with a shaky deep breath. they’d start by giving you soft kisses all over your face, dancing from your forehead to your eyes onto both cheeks and then pecking your nose. she’d finish off by giving you a long kiss on the lips, “i’m here and i’m proud of you, i understand your disappointment my love. your worth is not reflected in that test. i love you very much”. before you start crying again he’d pull out the bag of brownies offering you one. he always knew how to make you laugh even in situations like this. “i hate to see you cry my love, m sorry for being late hope the brownies make up for it”

[colorpuffball]

I'm beating the buzzer with this one (^_^;)

Anyways I'm really glad to have been able to join this summer santa event! Big thanks to you @solarisfortuneia <3

I was assigned to @lychniis, hope you enjoy reading ╰(´꒳`)╯

I chose Zhongli fluff, here's a lil preview:

“Please lay down on me.” “Perhaps you mean with you?” “No. On me.”

“Do you have any plans for the day?”

Your question is directed at the man sitting in front of you. Morning sunlight streams into your shared home, making your teacups give off a warm glow.

“Aside from my usual walk through Liyue, no.”

“Then, could I make a request?”

Zhongli sets his cup down. "It would depend on what it is you desire. Although I am inclined to accept anything you propose."

You lean closer. “Could you please lay down on me.”

His brow furrows ever so slightly. “Perhaps you mean with you?”

“No. On me.”

A breath. He raises his cup, answering before taking a sip. "It is hard to refuse a request so simple."

_____________________________

Despite his acceptance, he was in no rush to finish his tea. Not that you minded of course. Conversation flowed as free as the tea he poured for the both of you.

When you do reach the end of the pot, you go quiet as he cleans the tea set. With a flick of his wrist another teapot appears in the air. The steam from within rises, curling into the light. He rinses every piece with such gracious movements that so obviously stem from years of experience. It never fails to capture your attention.

Finally, he sets everything aside.

"Shall we?"

_____________________________

The two of you return to bed. With the way you're laying, Zhongli is slotted almost perfectly against you. His head rests on your shoulder.

"Does this satisfy you?"

His warmth and weight feel more comforting than you'd imagined. Although… now that you've got your foot in the door.

“More.” You demand, although you’re mostly joking.

You thought he understood that with the way he inhaled, like a half finished chuckle. But then he stretches out.

You’ve seen him in his dragon form before, the great Morax in the flesh. Or more accurately, in the scales. You can only describe the transformation process as something akin to a molting reptile. Objectively, it isn’t pretty. To you though, it’s always a breathtaking sight. 

The change literally steals your breath away. You struggle to breathe under his weight. How such a large being can fit into a smaller form, you have no clue.

“Is this adequate?”

His voice is a tinge deeper, and seems to hold a lot more power. You always wonder if it truly changes, or if it’s your brain playing tricks on you.

You laugh lightly. “Much, thank you.”

Knowing your satisfaction, he decides to make himself comfortable. Around and around he goes, until he’s balanced (mostly) on top of you in a coil.

When he’s finished he sighs. You sigh in solidarity. No matter for what reason he actually sighed for.

The two of you lay in silence for a while, simply enjoying the physical contact. 

His scales are smooth to the touch. When your hand travels up towards his mane you’re hit by a puff of hot air. He watches with crinkled eyes as you run your fingers through coarse strands.

He’s gorgeous. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself. From his grand horns to the steady beating of his heart against your chest, even the fact that he's so willing to show this form to you, it all makes you question how any of this is even real.

It’s like a dream come true. 

If you had told yourself in the past that you’d end up in a relationship with a now retired god who happens to be able to transform into a dragon. Well, you’d think you were insane.

You unknowingly shake your head at the idea, to which Zhongli tilts his.

“Is something the matter?”

Your cheeks warm. “No, nothing.” You immediately change the subject. “Does it feel better when you get to take on this form again? Is it relieving, or- I mean, how does it feel?”

With the proximity of your faces, it's hard not to notice the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly. "It is a welcome change. Much like when one walks a different path as they would in their day to day."

"Do you wish that you could do it more often?"

He hums, the sound more akin to a purr with how it reverberates. In fact, it even relaxes you further. You feel as though you've shifted farther into the bed, the blankets brushing against your skin.

Or maybe you actually did, as you immediately tense when you feel his claws on you. 

"Those are sharp!"

Immediately they're gone. "My apologies. I should be more mindful. These claws, they were not made for such activities after all."

You chuckle. "These activities? You make it sound so suspicious."

He yawns, his jaw opening so wide you realize he could swallow a boar whole. Several boars maybe. Or even a boat.

"I was referring to these more peaceful activities."

Your eyes widen. “Ah. Right.”

It's easy to forget what Zhongli is capable of. Especially since he's currently acting as your weighted blanket.

The silence stretches. Your gaze shifts between his mouth and literally anywhere else. Zhongli’s eyes rest solely on you.

“Do I scare you?” As he speaks you’re forced to face his teeth. You pull your eyes from the multitude of knife-like points to observe his face.

To you, it simply holds curiosity. You were afraid that he’d be unhappy with your reaction. Although he could be saving it for your response.

“Well…”

It’d be a lie to say that he is harmless. Or to say that you weren’t spooked just now. It’s a bit difficult to ponder on his nature and that of your relationship with him on top of you.

Of course, in his bountiful patience, Zhongli simply watches as you find the right words. His face betrays no emotion.

Although, if you’re being honest…

You start gently. “Yes, at times.” You watch him out of the corner of your eye as you stroke his mane once again. “However,” you grin, “I can’t say that I’m not into it.”

[in-my-loki-feels]

🧡 for the kiss game! Thomas Sharpe/Benedict Bridgerton if your status as the patron saint of rare pairs is so inspired 😉 but Lokius would be perfect for this too! 🥰

I accept your challenge of writing Thomas Sharpe/Benedict Bridgerton! We are going to manifest this pairing into existence! I just hope I did them justice. 🙈 Also, I do have a not yet filled 🧡 prompt for Lokius, so you'll get that wish granted too (eventually, lol).

(Caveat: it's been a loooong time since I read the Bridgerton books so hopefully my attempt to mimic regency romance prose isn't too awkward.)

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling

Benedict awoke overwarm and feeling as though he’d been buried during the night, but in the most cozy fashion. It took him a moment to understand what had happened.  Thomas was so often cold, perhaps still recovering from the icy horrors of his home, that in his sleep he often drifted across the center of Benedict’s small bed and ended up wrapped around Benedict. Benedict would not normally mind, except as the weather turned warmer, the added body heat led to waking up sweating. Without any of the fun that normally came along with that. “Thomas,” Benedict said into the pillow his face was smashed against. “Wake up, Thomas.”  Ah, now there was a glorious feeling Benedict could never mind waking up to. Thomas, still draped completely over Benedict’s back, coming to awareness slowly before stretching his long limbs. Benedict could feel Thomas’ muscles tensing and relaxing all along his body. The arm around Benedict’s middle tightened briefly as Thomas nosed into Benedict’s throat and exhaled a sigh.  “What has made you so slothful?” Benedict teased. “Surely it cannot be my influence.”  “Perhaps I have simply found cause to enjoy…taking my time in the mornings.”  Benedict shivered. Thomas had a lovely voice at any hour, but it was an even more delicious rumble when he was just awakening. That sinful pause, paired with the fingers Thomas was trailing just above the waistband of Benedict’s drawers, made it difficult to want to rise and greet the day.  “Well,” Benedict said, “unfortunately for myself, I am meant to breakfast with my family. I cannot be late again, or they will start to ask questions.”  Benedict wasn’t overly worried with his family’s questions. His mother’s attention was diverted by his younger siblings for the moment, though he knew it was only a matter of time before it returned to him. He chose his words for the way they made Thomas squeeze him close again. “We cannot have that,” Thomas murmured in his ear. “Benedict Bridgerton, disappearing every night to who knows where, only to return late every morning. Whatever would Lady Whistledown say?” Thomas finally drew away, rolling onto his back and withdrawing his arm. Benedict missed the heat of him immediately, even if this did allow him to push himself up from the mattress’ clutches. He wriggled around until he could lay on his other side, facing Thomas.  Sir Thomas Sharpe, baronet from the blustery bluffs of Cumberland, was a sight for sore eyes indeed this early in the morning. His dark hair, normally neatly swept back from his face, was a mess of curls against the pillow. He’d tucked one hand behind his head, emphasizing the taut lines of muscle beneath the skin of his bicep and chest.  The familial duty that had previously been pulling Benedict from the bed wavered now. Thomas’ sly smile revealed he knew exactly the sort of tempting picture he made. Benedict rolled his eyes but gave in, lowering himself down to meet lips that parted with anticipation.  There was no time of day when it was not enjoyable to kiss Thomas, but first thing in the morning, when Thomas was still loose-limbed and drowsy, that was a real treat. That was a time of slow, leisurely kisses, of Thomas freeing his hand from behind his head to cup it behind Benedict’s, to hold him there as though Benedict had any real desire to leave.  Time did not exist in these moments, only the sweet, gentle movement of their mouths together, and Thomas’ greedy hands reaching for more.  When Benedict pushed himself up, he was unsurprised by the little moue on Thomas’ face.  “I suppose I could be a little late,” Benedict said with a sigh. “Give Lady Whistledown something to write about.”  Thomas’ countenance transformed, brightening with wicked delight as he tightened his hold on Benedict and drew him back down.

From this ask game. Other ficlets here.

[aneurinallday]

Green Eyes

Chapter 22: Found

“Alec,” Thomas whispered, “Wake up.”

Alec clung to sleep, reluctant to open his eyes to the same living nightmare he faced every day, but Thomas was gently insistent. He stroked the young man’s hair as it lay tangled on the pillow.

“Wake up,” he repeated.

Alec made a small noise of protest in his throat. With his hand, Thomas brushed the dark, tousled curls away from his face.

“Did you manage to eat while I was gone?” he asked, though he already knew the answer - the food and water he’d left out on the table were untouched.

“I wasn’t hungry,” Alec mumbled, “Have you found anything?”

Thomas dodged the question, wanting to break the news as gently as possible - he knew Alec was fragile.

“There’s something I’d like you to see,” he said evasively. “Can you wait for me a moment?”

Tired, Alec nodded. He was so accustomed to disappointment and dead-ends that he was almost incapable of taking interest. Sitting up slowly on the bed, he rubbed his weary eyes.

“I won’t be long,” Thomas said, and ducked into the hallway. When he returned, he was carrying Clara in his arms.

Alec looked at her, but said nothing. His expression remained lifeless. This was the same dream he’d sought refuge in every night - the same dream he’d consoled himself with at the Arcadia. He’d imagined this moment so many times that he refused to accept it as real.

“She’s here,” Thomas found it necessary to explain, “She’s come home. We found her.”

Alec shut his eyes, perhaps willing himself to wake up. When he opened them again, they seemed more focused. He stared at Clara desperately.

“Here, why don’t you hold her?” Thomas encouraged him, “She’d prefer you to me…”

Without warning, Alec lurched upright, scrambling off the bed with a sudden burst of movement. His stiff knees almost buckled beneath him, but he managed to catch himself against the nightstand. He stood swaying. His mouth opened and closed, but only a pained noise came out.

“Be gentle with her, eh?” Thomas reminded him.

Alec reached his hands out towards the toddler, then quickly withdrew them, as if refusing to allow himself to be tricked. His mouth trembled and his face tightened, but he was too weak to cry.

“It’s alright,” said Thomas, “You can hold her.”

Abruptly, Alec’s legs gave out. He collapsed against the nightstand with a loud thud, rattling the wooden drawers, and dropped to the floor. With his hands full, Thomas was helpless to catch him.

“Fuck…Easy now…”

Alec struggled to sit upright. Thomas knelt in front of him, still holding the confused Clara.

“Look. Look at her,” Thomas said, “She’s here. She’s home. Everything’s alright now.”

Alec brushed his hand against the child’s familiar cheek. He ran his fingers through her soft hair.

“...Clara…” he whispered.

“Yes, that’s right. It’s your Clara. It’s your little one.”

Alec’s hand dropped into his lap. At last, he began to cry.

Disturbed by the noise, Clara’s face scrunched up, preparing to join in. Thomas kissed her cheek.

“It’s alright, darling,” he consoled her, “Your daddy’s glad to see you.”

Alec wailed. He slumped over on his side, burying his face in his hands, and wept violently. He’d cried like this many times before - great heaving sobs that left him struggling for breath until he was light-headed, a deep aching pain that almost paralysed him, as if grief weren’t just an emotion but a physical wound.

All Thomas could do was try to comfort him and wait for the paroxysm to subside.

“You’re alright,” he repeated over and over, “I’m here. You’re alright.”

Alec lifted his face from his hands, gulping for breath. Struggling to see, he reached half-blind for his daughter. Thomas carefully eased the child into Alec’s arms.

“There you go.”

Alec didn’t speak. No words would’ve been sufficient. Instead he simply sat on the patch of floor where he’d fallen, and held Clara on his lap; and for a long time, he did nothing but hug her. He kissed her cheeks and her forehead and her chubby little hands.

“Do you remember me, my love?” he asked, trying to hide his desperation behind a strained smile, “Do you know who I am?”

“Give her time,” Thomas cautioned, “A lot’s changed for her in an hour.”

“What are these clothes?” Alec sobbed, tugging at Clara’s grey dress, “This doesn’t fit you at all, it’s horrible…”

“The orphanage gave it to her.”

“What orphanage? Where did you find her?”

Thomas hesitated. He knew how it would sound. He knew Alec would have every right to be indignant. But he also knew it would be cowardly to spare himself the brief discomfort of being reproached.

“The one I own,” he admitted reluctantly, “I’m sorry, Alec. It was the first place we checked, and we even checked it twice, but we didn’t think to keep looking there. We were certain she’d be further afield. I’m sorry.”

But Alec didn’t care - his smile shone through his tears. Clara was home, and that was all that mattered.

“Let me look at you.” He lifted her up so that he could see all of her. “Did they feed you well? You look like they fed you well. Did you have supper already? Are you hungry?”

“She’s fine and healthy,” Thomas assured him, “She was being looked after.”

Alec rose shakily to his feet, and walked to the kitchen table. He took a pear from the fruit bowl - the first time he’d shown interest in food - and bit it to test its ripeness, then offered it to Clara. She held the fruit in both hands and began to munch on it.

“How is it, my love? Does it taste good? You’ll eat nothing but good things, I promise.”

He wiped her chin with the hem of his shirt.

Having achieved his goal, Thomas was unsure of what to do, so he awkwardly sat down at the table and pretended to read yesterday’s newspaper. As he stared blankly at the words printed on the page, and listened to their happy reunion, all he could see was Alec standing on the doorstep of Arrow House, crying and shivering in the cold.

Now that the immediate problem of Clara’s welfare had been resolved, Alec’s mind instinctively turned to her entertainment. He paced around the flat with her, and seemed as if he was noticing his surroundings for the first time.

A dusty vase in the kitchen contained a few dead flowers, whose wilted petals turned to crisp flakes when he touched them - but he admired them nevertheless, because in Clara’s eyes they were beautiful.

“Was it nice at the orphanage?” he wondered aloud, “Did you have lots of children to play with? Maybe we could play a game now…”

He asked Thomas for a patterned rag and a pair of scissors, and having acquired them, cut the cloth into strips of varying width. With the resourcefulness of a parent who was accustomed to barely scraping by, he magicked up a crude ragdoll without needle or thread. Smaller strips were rolled and bundled into a ball for the head, and larger strips hung down loose like a skirt and petticoats, and the whole thing was bound tightly together to keep its shape. He hummed as he worked, as he must have done a dozen times in Saltley. When he waved the creation in front of Clara, the colourful pattern caught her interest.

“What shall we name her?” Alec asked, “How about Greta, like the actress? Or maybe Ethel, like your grandmother? She would’ve loved you if she’d had the chance...”

The pair of them sat on the floor and played. He softly sang her a nursery rhyme - the first time in months that he’d sung. His voice was hoarse and cracked, yet somehow its beauty remained undiminished. Perhaps a faint memory stirred within Clara, because she smiled with delight as he lent his voice to the doll.

Thomas watched but didn’t join in. It felt wrong to. Alec and Clara had been separated because of him - what right did he have to share in their joy?

The evening deepened. Alec played with Clara until she grew tired, then sat on the bed with her, singing lullabies under his breath until she fell asleep. But even as she lay peaceful in his embrace, he refused to put her down - perhaps eager to make up for all the hugs he hadn’t given her these past four months. Midnight came and still he stayed awake, swaying from exhaustion, refusing to close his eyelids even though they were so heavy he could barely them open.

“Go to sleep,” Thomas bade him once more, “She’ll still be here in the morning.”

“No…” Alec looked down at his child’s face. “It always happens this way. I dream she’s here, and it feels so real. But when I wake up, she’s gone.”

“Not this time. I won’t let her disappear.” Thomas reached for the bedside lamp to turn it off.

“No, don’t,” Alec said. “Leave it on.”

“Enough. It’s time to sleep.”

“What if someone comes? What if they take her away again?”

“Nobody would dare. This is Small Heath and I’m Thomas fucking Shelby.”

Thomas fetched a spare pillow and blankets from the cupboard, and made a nest on the floor beside the bed - positioning himself as a shield between Alec and the door.

“You can’t sleep down there,” Alec protested, “It’s your home…”

“There’s not space for the three of us. It’s you or me, so it’ll be me.”

Hearing those words, Alec was finally persuaded to lie down. As soon as his head met the pillow, resisting sleep became impossible. He nestled Clara in his arms and closed his eyes.

Thomas carefully dimmed the lights, leaving the bedside lamp for last.

“No more dreams,” he ordered as the final glowing filament slowly died, “Sleep. No-one and nothing can touch you. Not now. Not ever.”

Darkness settled over the flat. He took his place on the floor, endeavouring to get comfortable on the wooden boards. He felt Alec’s hand searching blindly for his own, and reached to meet it, gripping it tightly.

“Thank you,” Alec whispered in the dark.

His gratitude cut like a knife, but Thomas kept his guilt to himself. He felt the young man’s hand slowly relax until it hung limp from the edge of the bed; but Thomas didn’t let go. Not yet.

In that moment, he didn’t care that the floorboards were hard, or that their future together was uncertain, or that he would have to work tirelessly to salve the lifelong wounds inflicted on Alec. As he lay there listening to his little family slumbering peacefully, he felt like - no, he knew that he’d come home.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Just (Werewolf!) Papa Solomons Things:

Rainy days with your little dove

TH Masterlist

- Spent indoors with reading and drinking tea and/or coffee.

- He smells like the rain, mixed with the sweat of the transformation.

- Grumbles about the weather being rotten on the way home. “‘S bad for me sciatica.”

- Tries to stay awake on the tube and train. On the former he’s glad to have found a seat, too tired to keep himself standing. On the train, he’s glad he has your shoulder to rest his head on (and subsequently use as a pillow for a nap that’s totally not a nap).

- On days like this he wants to do everything together. The usual shower while you make breakfast gets swapped for a two-person bath, a little moment to enjoy together while enjoying a light snack like a fruit salad.

- Alfie loves it when you towel his hair. It’ll immediately cause him to purr.

- After he’s made sure you’re nice and dry as well as dressed in one of his hoodies, he’ll tag along to the kitchen.

- Now, no matter if he’s still worn and haggard from a night lost to the beast inside, he insists on making you breakfast. Although you know protesting is of no use, you have one extremely effective weapon to use against him.

- Wolfy.

- The silly nickname you gave him when he confessed to being a werewolf. You meant it as a very bad joke, but knew he was serious when he didn’t return your smile.

- Now throw in some beard scratches and you, my dear, have the Alpha of the Camden pack on his knees.

- Hey, whatever works to get him to sit down on the chaise longue by the window in the living room, which provides a marvellous view of the sea. He needs rest and relaxation, not his usual incessant worrying about you.

- And he worries a lot.

- Though Alfie might not show it, he’s mortified of the consequences which come with the very real potential the Wolf can be unleashed if he doesn’t watch his temper.

- If he loses himself for a split second in your vicinity, he could potentially kill you. Because even though he’s aware the Wolf is in love with you too, there’s nothing to protect you once instinct kicks in and it’s either kill or be killed.

- And if he comes to his senses and your mauled body is the first thing he sees, well…

- Let’s say Camden will lose its King and Highgate will have a royal tomb.

- So he has to make sure he’s safe for you.

- Some of his rings and bracelets have been swapped out for ones that contain silver to supplement his medication.

- Alfie has asked his doctor to up the dosage of the drugs he takes to suppress the Wolf and slow its influence over his mind and body. The same goes for the suppressants.

- Lycanthropy is a terminal condition. Not in the traditional sense of a literal death, but rather the death of the Human Self. This phenomenon is known as ‘going feral’.

- It’s extremely rare for Ferals to regain their Human Self, though such cases have been reported and are a hot research topic in the academic community.

- Alfie is such a case.

- Fell in love the moment he saw you admiring the Aira Force. No, he did more than that.

- He imprinted in you.

- After thirty-four years of silently pondering the question why everyone seemed to find their mate with ease and he didn’t, he found the answer.

- He simply needed to wait because his little dove wasn’t born yet.

- (I’m sorry, but I kinda have this canon of Alfie having a partner younger than him. Let’s say at least half his age. Look, he’s Papa Solomons for a reason, eh?)

- Despite knowing how detrimental it is to his Human Self, Alfie likes to shift and doze off after brekkie. After all, he’s spent the majority of his life as a Wolf and therefore is more comfortable in his other form.

- If it’s winter, you can frequently find him curled up by the fireplace.

- But today the weather is rotten and the craving for your company insatiable. Henceforth, after an elaborate breakfast enjoyed in comfortable silence, you two crawl into bed.

- Alfie loves reading, but he can’t seem to keep his eyes open. From the corner of your eye, you notice him starting to nod off yet fiercely fight the fatigue.

- Nevertheless, soon after, a soft sonorous snoring mingles with the tapping of the rain against the window. You put your own book to the side to gently pluck his (The Language of Food by Annabel Abbs) out of his big wolf paws and lift his glasses off of his nose to put them on his bedside table.

- Regardless of his unconscious state, Alfie pulls you flush against him after you’ve manoeuvred him into a more comfortable position. Legs entwined, one hand cradling the back of your head, and his back towards the door, he holds you.

- Because he’s your Wolfy.

- Your protector.

- The Queen’s wolf.

Tag list: @potter-solomons @hecatemoon87 @liliac-dreamer @rose-like-the-phoenix @babaohhhriley @solomons-finest-rum @wandawiccan60 @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @zablife @dreamlandcreations @mollybegger-blog

[breezypunk]

15, 17, 20 and 21 💌

Thankie! <3

Questions here

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

15. What songs remind you of their relationship?

First is Ozeanblau by Ambyion. It's my favorite song. However that song was playing when I created Vaughn, which made it important to start with. Than when I started shipping him with Goro I created a HC in which whenever Vaughn's anxiety is really bad, Goro will play the song and dance with Vaughn until his panic attacks went away. It works like a charm every time. Since than that song has been incredibly important, not only to me but to them as well.

However the #1 song that reminds me of their relationship the most is Soul of the Beautiful by The Veer Union. That's their number one ship song in my shippy playlist too, haha. This song has so much meaning to their story, one I never dabbled into too much for various reasons. In my HC when Goro had to leave Vaughn for 6 months and go back to Japan, Vaughn was devastated, but music was his cure and this was the song he dedicated to Goro while he was gone. Not to mention the lead singer is the voice claim I use for Vaughn's own singing voice, so it's like Vaughn is singing it directly to Goro.. which makes it even more special. It's been their song since the moment I heard it. :)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

Towards the beginning they were both fools who had no idea how to communicate. Neither of them were experienced in falling in love or real committed relationships. So they were both just disasters (hence their old ship name ehehe). It took them a while to feel comfortable opening up about certain topics, and that's not to say they didn't trust each other, because they learned very early on they could trust one another, but to express their emotions and feelings on an intimate level made them both super nervous, and made things awkward sometimes. But awkward in a cute way ;p They had so much to learn, and they've come such a long way. Now they both can't shut up about their feelings.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

The most effective way to comfort Vaughn when he's upset is to just sit with him in silence. Don't talk, just sit. Goro learned this early on, sometimes he can't help but touch Vaughn or hug him if he's having a super bad day, but mostly Goro's presence alone is all the comfort Vaughn needs.

Goro absolutely craves touch when he's having a bad day or is upset, and Vaughn can happily oblige. Curled up on the couch or on the bed, entangled with each other and just letting the sadness fade away, sometimes they'll even end up falling asleep this way, and than Goro will wake up in a better mood.

For both, just them being there is comfort, it's home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

Vaughn never thought the day would come when he'd say yes, but.. yes.

Having a partner you can do random everyday little things with around the house is so much fun to him. Doing laundry together? Yeah! Dishes together? You betcha!

Okay maybe not those..

But simply just walking around the apartment and giving each other little kisses on the forehead or cheek when they pass each other, or just sitting on the couch watching cringey movies, or even cleaning the apartment in detail together. Cooking dinner together is when Vaughn really knew he was enjoying the domestic life. Goro is such a huge flirt in the kitchen, and Vaughn dies every time. The small things that make them go "damn, we're really in it now.. for the long haul". Blissful feeling.

[clouds-rambles]

Hey bestie may I request diluc,childe,zhongli,and venti having a bad nightmare over their s/o wanting to break up with them and when they wake up their s/o isn’t there but really they’re in another room or something if that makes sense!! Thank you 🤑

Hi bestie positively evil... i love it <3 nobody question why zhongli and the reader are married in all my headcanons thanks lmao

Pairings; (Seperate) Diluc, Childe, Zhongli, and Venti x reader

Warning(s); panic, nightmares, hurt/comfort, injury mention

Keep reading under the cut!

Diluc

Diluc wakes with a start, his brows furrowed as he takes a moment to arrange the events of his nightmare in his head

Both you and he had a particularly explosive argument after he had come back injured from a night protecting Mondstat 

You had left the winery after exclaiming that you refuse to date someone who has such a lack of regard for his own life. In the long run you’d be saving yourself from further heartbreak if he ended up dead on the front porch

Diluc wonders if dream you could be right...

The red-head finally notices the cold side of the bed you should be sleeping on. He more than remembers going to sleep with you

Panic sets in at the bottom of Dilucs stomach. He must be imagining things right? You’re probably just in the bathroom

A beat passes

Then three

No, you’re not in the bathroom. He would have heard you by now...

What if the dream was actually what had happened last night. A breath catches in the mans throat as he gets out of bed and throws a shirt on

If he couldn’t find you in his home has he truly lost you?

Diluc speedily walks through the halls of his home, checking the spare rooms, the study, the library, the living room, the dining room, the

Diluc opens the door to the kitchen his heart threatening to break out of his chest at the pace it’s beating when he finally spots you drinking a cup of tea, in your pajamas

Thank the archons it was just a dream

“Diluc, honey, are you okay?” you ask getting up from the table in the kitchen to your sweating, hyperventilating partner

Diluc says nothing but opts to hugging you, his head bowing to your chest as he breaths you in

“Diluc, you’re worrying me” you tell him returning his embrace and rubbing circles on his back

“You weren’t in bed” is all he offers to tell you. You don’t push him on the details of why he is so panicked

“I couldn’t sleep so I came down for a herbal tea” you explain kissing the man on his bed of fluffy hair “I have a cup left in the kettle, I can pour one out for you” you offer

“Please” he breathes, but doesn’t move to let you go from the embrace, you can stand to hold him and tell him sweet nothings for a little while. Tea can always be reheated

Childe

It would only be right, and he suspected as much. You had told him that because of what has recently transpired in Liyue you cannot find yourself to love a brutal harbinger

Maybe its for the best. Childe concludes not paying much attention to his weeping heart. Maybe, you’d be happier not to be under the constant eye and scrutiny of the Qixing, the Milleth, and the watchful eye of Childes own fatui informants

Without much pause form Childes last thought the man finds himself waking in his room, unsure if the dream was reality or his mind playing tricks on him, he feels your side of the bed and notices a distinct lack of warmth... and you

He cries

Childe curls himself up in a ball determined to not get caught by anyone showing such an extreme and out of character emotion, he let himself cry. He’s pretty sure he’s sobbing loudly but he doesn’t care. It’s just him in the house anyway. The one person that he doesn’t mind seeing such emotions has left him

That’s until he hears the distinct click of the bedroom door open “Oh my archon Childe, are you okay?” you ask quickly making your way to the side of his bed and placing a hand on his shoulder

The man looks up to you, he isn’t sure if you’re real 

“I thought-” he starts “I had a-” he tries to find his words without seeming like a crazed person “You weren’t-” 

“It’s okay babe, I’m right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere” you console “I just had an epiphany in my dream and I had to write it down” you add explaining your absence. Childe nods along 

“Stay” he tells you as you wipe the tears out of his eyes. You nod and hum

“Of course” you lay onto the bed and let Childe wrap himself around you

You hum him to sleep and whisper sweet nothings

Zhongli

‘I can’t love you anymore Zhongli, I feel obligated to come back to Liyue after every adventure, it’s starting to take a toll on me’

‘But our vows, [name] we made a contract at the altar’

‘To love each other, yes? Zhongli there’s no love left in this marriage, you sleep in the spare bedroom whenever I’m back, we sit in silence over dinner, I don’t think I’ve kissed you in months. The lack of love itself is the breach in the contract’

‘But I-’

‘Think about it, do you really feel the same love that you felt on the day we got married?’

‘[name]-’

Zhongli wakes up with a start, his heart beats a little fast for a second. The man convinces himself it’s just a dream he had, but the coldness of your side of the bed seems to speak otherwise

In all fairness, Zhongli should have rationalised his dream before he started wondering the house like a mad man. The only time he sleeps in the other bed is when you’ve suffered an extreme injury, dinners are often spent with jolly laughs and conversation. And Zhongli prides himself on the amount of affection he gives you around the house... and in the bedroom

But most things aren’t making sense in his head right now

“Zhongli my love” you call him upon noticing him in the hall. You had just come out of the bathroom after a midnight toilet break “Are you okay darling?” you ask placing a hand on his shoulder

The tenseness in Zhongli’s shoulders dissipate as soon as you initiate the touch

“I love you” he tells you, the declaration is out of nowhere to you. But you smile at him and embrace him

“And I love you too” you pause bringing up your hand baring the ring that sits on it “And this ring is a reminder of our vows and my unyielding love to you” you tell him with a smile

Zhongli chuckles at you and returns your hug “You seem to always know how to comfort me my dear”

“It’s because I’m a mind reader” you jest matching your spouses chuckle

Venti

Disappeared. So much so that the thousand winds could tell Venti that you were in fact not in Mondstat and had travelled to Liyue from the time Venti was playing music in the tavern to when he knocked for you early the next morning

The only trace you left was a letter. Unmistakeably written by your hand

‘Venti, writing this in a letter is much easier than saying this to your face. I am quite simply tired of your antics, no matter try to talk to you, you seem to always brush me off. Be it the nights you spend at the tavern, my general concern when you disappear for days at end just to tell me you were at the thousand winds temple, stormterrors lair, or windrise, no matter how much I tell you I checked all three. Being in a constant state of concern isn’t good for me, it’s emotionally draining and I’m terrified of finding you dead somewhere, despite your archon blood. By the time you read this I’ll be in Liyue where I’ll be staying with a friend for a while. Tell me I’m going somewhere you can’t follow, and I’ll tell you this is how I have felt many a night. I wish I could have kept loving you, [name]’

A harsh way to break up Venti admits to himself rereading the paper a few times before waking up

A dream?

Venti holds his chest, surely a dream couldn’t conjure such a horrific sinking feeling that makes him want to just vomit

Looking to your side of the bed for your comfort the sinking feeling intensifies when he doesn’t see you

So it wasn’t a dream? Venti doesn’t want to call on his kin, the thousand winds, again just to be told once more that you’re currently in Liyue sipping tea with this cousin you had mentioned in the letter 

The archon sits up in bed and takes deep breaths, he doesn’t want to explain to anybody that he had a panic attack over your horrific breakup letter, no no

After calming his breaths Venti steps out of bed with a shaky few steps before walking downstairs to engage in the typical breakout routine. Snacking. Maybe when you left you had elected to ignore some of the snacks you love to litter about your abode

When Venti walks in to the living room towards the kitchen he sees you nursing your head on the couch

“[name]?” he asks in almost disbelief

“Hm,” you answer before looking up to Venti “Oh hey love, sorry I’ve got a headache” you greet properly after a moment. Venti grins at you which causes you to tilt your head. Why is your headache so grin worthy? Weird...

“Would you like some paracetamol?” he asks walking beside you, you shake your head

“I just took some” you reply looking up at your partner “Though I’d love to rest my head on your thighs” you add. Venti more then obliges and settles down on the couch

“You know I had the strangest dream” Venti tells you after a prolonged amount of silence, you hum to let him know you’re listening “You left me” he says bluntly

Oh

Damn

You bring yourself up to Venti’s face with a smile and give him a kiss “I love you Venti, I wouldn’t leave you for even the prettiest lyre” you half console half jest

“That’s because the prettiest lyre is mine” Venti chuckles and you nod pressing another kiss to Venti’s lips

guys it’s 2.42am I’m so sorry if there’s grammatical errors, my brain isn’t catching up rn

[seita]

— better than (m.)

pairing : iwaizumi/reader

wordcount : 3.087

genre : fluff, smut, pwp

cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi

tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3

+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.

When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.

You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.

The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.

The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.

“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”

The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.

There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.

You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.

For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.

It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.

You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.

You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.

That's when it occurred to you.

You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.

When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.

You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.

Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.

Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.

Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.

You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.

You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.

His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”

You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?

He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”

You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.

You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.

“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”

“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”

“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”

You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”

“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.

“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.

“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”

Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.

As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.

“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”

Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”

“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”

He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.

You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.

“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”

You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.

You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”

“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”

As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.

“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”

He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.

“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”

Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.

“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”

“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”

Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”

You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.

But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.

“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.

“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”

He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”

His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.

“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”

Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.

He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.

“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”

You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”

You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.

The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.

Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.

“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.

“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”

“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.

“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.

Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.

He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”

You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.

He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.

He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.

“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.

“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.

He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”

Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”

seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost

[muniimyg]

25 // ksj

“goodbyes are still goodbyes...”

navi | m. list | ask me ! | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !

tw: angst,, jin going to the army :> 

You rushing out of your home and over to his is an understatement. 

The October weather is a perfect mix of cloudy skies with the sun peeking through. If anything, the autumn weather is ever so fitting for how you feel. It’s colder than usual but maybe that’s because you didn’t dress to go out. You were just home getting ready for bed when suddenly; it happened. 

Your friends flood your messages, asking if you heard, knew, or felt okay. You simply left them all on read to process it all because no matter how many times you read over or try to process the changes to come—it doesn’t feel real. 

The entire time as you sat in your car and nervously drove your way over, you couldn’t help but feel the built-up tension between your mind and your heart. Your eyes are watering and stinging like you haven’t blinked ever since finding out but no tears have fallen. 

It’s so hard to cry.

It’s even harder to not. 

Your mind races with so many thoughts—so many questions that honestly don’t even need answers. You’ve always known, that’s the thing. You’ve always known one day, today would come and you’d have no choice but to let it happen. You spent most of your days brushing it off because every day with him felt like it could last forever. 

But your heart is desperate and forever, for the first time, doesn’t feel like it’s enough. 

As you pull up to his place, you park your car and bolt to his door. There, you begin to knock so fast and so stiffly that the knocks echo through the halls. It’s loud and it continues to grow louder as you curl your fists. Your knocks turn into punches and soon—before you can even stop yourself—you’re even kicking the door. Sobs begin to form, throwing away your plan of staying strong. There’s so much grief that grasps your heart.. And it’s weird because it’s not like you’re losing him or that he doesn’t love you anymore. 

It’s that things are going to change and he won’t be around as much. You’re supposed to do what without him? Live happily and only think about him from time to time when the past few years of your life you’ve dedicated late nights, stories, and time to? It’s afflictions of pride. It’s heart-wrenching.

You’re so flustered and the ache in your entire being just won’t budge. Nothing feels like it’s okay—nothing feels like it’s real. 

You hear him approach the door, but you continue to knock. You won’t stop until you see him in front of you. You won’t stop until he greets you with his sweet smile and overgrown hair—you just need to see him as you last remember. So who cares if your knocks were getting aggressive? Who cares if anyone sees? 

This is it. 

This could be it. 

Then, he opens the door and your fists hit his chest. 

He wraps his hands around them and you bow your head immediately when he does so. It’s funny how a second ago all you wanted to do was to see him and now that he’s here; you can’t find it in yourself to look up. 

“You heard.” Jin says awfully calmly. “Wow, you’re taking this better than I thought—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving so soon?” you croak. It takes everything and a million more to be able to say this without sobbing. You continue to push yourself onto him and he sighs deeply before wrapping his arms around you. As he embraces you, you can’t help but finally feel a sense of security. You’ve always been thankful for him. Maybe that’s why it feels so difficult right now—it’s hard to let someone who has made you feel so alive go. 

But he holds you like you were going to be okay.

He holds you like you’re his world.

“I didn’t know it’d hurt you this much,” Jin confronts you, rubbing your back in circular motions. “I’ll be back, you know? This isn’t goodbye forever… This is forever.”

With whatever courage you have left and a small mix of desperation, you finally look up at him. He smiles at you and you feel bittersweet. 

“I don’t like goodbyes. Who's going to comfort me on Tuesdays? And what about eating with you? I like eating with you. What about the plans we made to go fishing? We can go. I won’t complain and.. I—arghh… I don’t know. In my head, I made so many plans with you and now you’re going.”

Jin’s eyes can’t help but water. He’s scared too. He doesn’t like change if it means the possibility of losing you. Things change, people change—time does that.

“I’m coming back and when I do, I’m coming back just for you.” 

“Goodbyes are still goodbyes.. This is still a goodbye,” you sob, your voice breaking and betraying you. He knows what you said is true. Goodbyes are still goodbyes—even if he is coming back, it doesn’t hurt any less than now.

“Yeah, it’s still a goodbye,” Jin agrees, validating your hurt. “... But it’s also still you and me, my ami.”

Finally, you cry.

[lokiskitten]

hiii can you please do tom as dad's best friend/co-worker where they finally meet each other in her dad's office? and that y/n dad have to take an urgen flight trip thats why he needed tom to look after y/n for a couple of days. lots of sexual tension and dirty talk! (also age gap if that's alright with you?) 😌 make it real smutty and kinky u know the drill :) ty!!

Tom Hiddleston | unique babysitter

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : being a single father, your dad has no choice but to leave you at home with a friend after he has been called for an urgent business travel. Surprisingly enough, you manage to end up enjoying Tom’s exhilarating company.

warnings : smut, age gap, dirty talking, slight dub/con, virgin!reader, innocence kink, dry humping, unprotected sex, slight after care and cuddling.

Around a week ago, your dad had finally agreed to take you to his office in order for you to discover his job. You had never really understood the way he made a living, and it had therefore been the occasion for you to get to learn more about his work whilst earning the chance to spend some extra time with him. Ever since your mom had left, you had allowed yourself to drift away from your father- an unwilling habit which had brought harm to the two of you throughout the years. But now was your chance to do better by supporting the older man through his daily life and by letting him know that he was not alone. Though, your little trip to his office had allowed you to meet with one of his closest coworkers : a so called Tom Hiddleston.

The man worked at the desk next to your dad’s, which allowed you to get a good view of his friend whilst they both worked. The room remained silent- the sounds of the keyboards being put to good use offering a pretty symphony. Your orbs would sometimes divert towards the infamous older man, feeling your cheeks heat up whenever his blue eyes would take notice of your stares and look up at you- leading your embarrassed self to look away. From the corner of your eyes, you could tell that this gesture had amused him due to the way his lips seemed to curl up whilst his chest bobbed upwards gently. Your hands fidgeted together, this little game lasting through the entire afternoon until it was finally time for you and your father to go home. But even after disappearing from one another’s sight, none of you appeared to forget about the other.

The next day, your dad had announced to you that he would be forced to leave for a couple of days due to an important business offer he simply couldn’t push away. At first, you felt okay with it... until this one added up that his coworker and friend, Tom, would be in charge of taking care of you for the few upcoming days. This stroke anxiety within your heart. The man you had desperately stared at for hours yesterday would now be assigned as your babysitter? The thought of getting to spend time alone with him was surely exciting, but also intimidating. Therefore, you decided to use arguments in order to dodge your father’s announcement, and potentially call off this whole babysitter issue which you believed was unnecessary for a girl such as you.

The first argument you decide to pull up was the fact that you were eighteen, and therefore not in need of a babysitter anymore. You could take care of yourself, which you did whenever your father was at work. But to the older man, this wasn’t the issue. He felt pleased to remind you what had happened the last time he had trusted you to be alone for a couple of days, and you had no choice but to remain silent face to his prominent argument, and your lack of snap back. Even though you could’ve probably explained that this event took place a couple of years back, and that you were now a legal adult to society, you decided to submit to your father’s announcement and decision.

Coming back to the present, you were currently sat in the living room whilst waiting for Tom to arrive. Your father had left a couple of minutes ago already, as he didn’t wish to miss his plane due to his coworker being late- who he trusted in taking good care of you. But little did he know, the older man would do much more than simply cook dinner for the two of you before tucking you in for a good night of sleep. When the bell finally rang, your head diverted towards the door in a hurry before your whole silhouette made an effort to get up from the sofa in order to reach for the entry of your home. Nervously, your hand took ahold of the handle before twisting it and allowing the door to open, revealing your dad’s smily coworker. “Good evening, Princess. I’m sorry I’m late.” He affirmed as your eyes slowly slid down towards the postman bag he carried on his right shoulder.

Face to your prolonged silence, he decided to step in one more time. “May I come in?” Tom asked, hoping that this sentence would manage to pull you out of your thoughts. And it did. “Oh yes, sure. I’m sorry...” You responded, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips as you moved to the side in order to let the older man step inside of your house. As soon as Tom laid a foot of onto the floor of your home, you felt a rather uncomfortable sensation take over your organism. It was a mix of excitement- that due to his handsomeness and attractive aura- and anxiety. A single pressure applied on the door was enough to have it close, trapping the two of you inside of the construction. And from that point, things progressively started to get more risky.

If Tom had agreed to sit down at the living room’s table to work at first, he soon caught interest in your silhouette and the things your curves could potentially offer him. During the first evening you spent together, things remained rather quiet and calm. All he did was look at you from the corner of his eye once in a while, and so did you whenever you felt like allowing your hormones to win over your good sense. You had been the one to cook dinner, and the older man hadn’t stopped praising the meal you had taken time to prepare whilst he worked. You got the chance to listen to a few of his personal informations- such as his nice lifestyle as a single man who enjoyed cooking for himself, as a hobby. Tom even promised to be the chief tomorrow evening, a bargain which led you to feel more comfortable in his presence.

The next day was when you finally started to feel more comfortable about your father’s coworker living in your house. You didn’t get to see him during the day due to college, but coming back in the evening knowing you would be able to spend time with the older man never failed to make you feel excited. Tom had progressively let go of his work, claiming he had taken a one week remunerated break in order to spend some extra time with you. The days went along, and you found yourself skipping class as well to attend the man’s offers about going out to various places. Calling your dad to check up on him wasn’t a priority anymore, which easily led you to bump into multiple missed calls when you finally made your way back up to your room after spending a day with his friend.

On this delightful Friday evening, you had been given the honor to taste Tom’s most famous recipe : bolognese. The dinner went on wonderfully, and you soon found yourself bloated with sauce and pasta- a visual proof that you had indeed enjoyed the meal he had prepared. Wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin, Tom’s blue orbs stared at your exhausted self who still tried to recover from the amount of food you had previously ingested. It had exhaust you. “I guess I won’t be asking you how it went, seeing the emptiness of your plate.” He affirmed with a chuckle before reaching out for both of your stained yet empty plates in order to carry them until the sink. Shifting in your seat, you allowed your vision to divert away from your guest for a moment- which Tom didn’t fail to notice.

With a smirk appearing on the corner of his lips, the man proceeded to rest the plates down on the workspace before silently making his way back to you, sitting down in the chair which was positioned next to yours before leaning in and allowing his lips to collide with your neck. You obviously reacted face to this unexpected sensation, body shaking just so slightly as you tiredly leant backwards in order to break the contact. “What? What are you doing?” You asked awkwardly, earning an amused smile from the older man. His hand travelled up to your hair, blue orbs following his own gesture as he brushed a strand behind your ear. “Just treating you the way you deserve. You’re a grown woman after all, aren’t you? And adults communicate with one another.” He purred seductively, those few words sending chills down your spine.

“So I’m letting you know... I want you.” He finished, hand still toying with your hair as both your heart and mind fell apart on the instant. Had you heard that right? Was your father’s friend truly offering you to hookup under his coworker’s own roof- a man who had given him his trust to look after his only daughter? But the will to rebel and prove to the world that you weren’t a child anymore turned out to be stronger then your good sense and the respect you held for your dad. Your cheeks heated up as you made eye contact with Tom again, a welcoming smile appearing his lips which led you to fall for him even more. “Okay...” you responded to his previous statement in an awkward manner, leading the adult’s smile to intensify. “Okay.” He repeated happily, hand sliding down to your thigh in order to take ahold of yours.

Tom easily managed to get you to stand up, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs as his thumb gently rubbed against the back of your hand. Again, you felt excited yet anxious- still questioning whether yes or not you should give in his certainly appetizing offer. But before you knew it, the older man had managed to reach your father’s room- the room Tom had been occupying throughout the journey- which possessed a bigger bed for the two of you to enjoy. His first reflex was to turn on the lights before closing the door, those two gestures requiring for him to let go of your hand which allowed you to move closer to the bed without his help. “Ever done this before?” Tom asked empathetically as his silhouette turned towards yours, both his hands resting on his hips as if he was trying to contain certain pulsions.

Even if you felt ashamed of the answer you were about to give, you still trusted the man enough not to make fun of you nor make any degrading remarks about your sexual life. “Not really.” You answered as he moved closer to you, head bowed down to be able to make proper eye contact. “That’s okay.” He reassured, his hand moving up to your shoulder which he squeezed gently. “I’ll make sure to take good care of you.” Finished the male, his fingers now taking ahold of your chin only to lead your head to look up. Your lips aligned with his, his head slowly moving down towards yours until your closed mouths finally pressed against one another. This was the chastest kiss anyone had ever given you- which reinforced the feeling of safety you felt whenever it came to Tom. Though he quickly ended up softly breaking the contact in order to make sure you were okay.

You silently sucked in your bottom lip, as if you wanted to get some extra taste of his lips even after he had decided to break the kiss. Allowing your lower piece of rosy flesh to go, your orbs finally diverted upwards in order to make eye contact with the man who had just filled you with bliss. “I liked this.” You admitted, earning a smile from your partner. His hands travelled up to the first button of his shirt, progressively undoing the links until his bellybutton and abdominals were revealed to your innocent sight. Those assets made you shiver, and Tom could easily tell that you were too shy to step forward and lay your pretty hands onto his flesh. Smirking, the man dodged your silhouette in order to reach for the bed, removing his shirt through the process before allowing it to drop to the floor.

You watched silently as he sat down on the edge of the furniture, inviting you to take place beside him by laying gentle taps on the spot next to his thigh. Your submitted self obeyed, feet leading you towards your master until you finally took place beside him. “You’re such an obedient girl.” Tom praised, seemingly enjoying the way you agreed to follow all of his commands. An intimidated chuckle escaped your lips as his hand once again traveled up to your face, caressing your facial features and brushing your hair back in the loveliest manner. You couldn’t help but stare at his crouched abdominals, the way his skin formed muscular rolls for you to appreciate and praise. After all, it was the first time you ever saw a grown man bare chested in such an intimate situation.

“You want to remove a couple of layers? It’s the least we could do.” Tom offered gently, making sure to use the proper tone in order not to scare you off- and mostly in order to lead you to accept his proposition. Again, you agreed, standing up from the bed before removing your sweatshirt by pulling it over your head. Your bare breasts were revealed to his sight, though his blue orbs remained mainly focused on the skin of your waist and stomach. He found the bellybutton and stomach as a very attractive part of the female anatomy, and couldn’t potentially get enough of staring at this area of your body. Of course the grown man also felt grateful to be able to get a peak of your breasts- which he would make sure to cherish and praise later on.

His hands bluntly moved up to your waist as you took place between his legs, blue orbs still looking up at you before Tom allowed himself to lay a kiss onto your stomach. You abdominals contracted due to the small tingle you felt within you skin as the older man now took care of laying trails of gentle kisses down your belly. Looking down at him, you allowed your digits to travel up to his perfectly groomed hair before passing your fingers through the strands, messing up his mane in the softest manner. You were able to feel his lips perk upwards, indicating that your gestures were visibly making him smile. It reassured you to be aware of such a positive reaction.

After reaching the waistband of your joggers, Tom stopped himself through his track in order to take another look at your facial features- which in his humble opinion were perfect. Besides, spending time with someone who was younger than him somewhat sent the man back to his youthful days as well; which provided Tom a very blissful feeling. Without breaking eye contact, he began to unbuckle his belt before undoing the button of his jeans without even taking care of sliding the leather material out of the confines of his pants. Though he unfortunately found himself forced to look away after struggling to undo his button, your orbs still staring down towards his veiny hands which worked hard to reach their goal.

Once this step was finally over with, Tom placed a hand on your hip in order to gently move you backwards so that he could stand up from the bed. You could tell by his frustrated appearance that he seemingly couldn’t wait to end up in bed and fully naked with you. Though he always kept a reassuring smile on his face, even whilst pulling his jeans down to his ankle before stepping out of the piece of clothing. The grown man now stood in his briefs, feeling no form of shame nor embarrassment face to your younger self. Besides, there simply was nothing he could’ve potentially feel ashamed of. His body was perfect. A chuckle escaped his lips upon witnessing how clueless you appeared, a sight which could only make him feel more confident through the overall process.

“Well, kitten... there’s nothing you should be ashamed of. Real men are nothing like the boys you see at school.” He insisted, referring to how male teenagers often found many reasons to criticize the female anatomy and make young girls feel insecure. And his tone sounded extremely genuine- which was what led you to finally unleash your silhouette from all these pieces of clothings. You nodded silently, hands moving down to the waistband of your joggers before you slid the material down to your ankles. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, you proceeded to remove the cloth from your ankles, now revealing your underwear to a rather eager Tom.

He jumped on this handy occasion to gracefully climb on the bed and lay down on the spot where he usually slept, waiting for you to be done and hand out the green flag like the gentleman that he is. Looking back at him, you once again felt your cheeks heat up due to crossing another line of the process. He smiled. “Don’t be shy. I want you.” Tom begged, arm extending towards your chest as an invitation for you to get closer- which you did. Now laying down next to each other, your hands rested against his chest as your bodies faced one another, feeling the warmth which emitted from his skin. He looked down at you, head leaning down and once again seeking for your lips before he was finally able to press them against yours.

You kissed back, now feeling more comfortable as his arms wrapped around your back in order to gently get himself on top of your body. You were consensually overcome by his much larger silhouette, one of your hands moving up to his shoulders as you carried on giving back what the man was generously offering you. As soon as grunts and low moans began to escape his lips, you could tell that things were about to move faster from this moment- legs spreading a little bit wider as you allowed the man to grind his hips against yours. You were able to feel his hardening member collide with and rub against your own clothed genitals- movements which soon led your entrance to leak juices and stains your panties.

“Look at you..” Tom began, breaking the kiss for a few seconds in order to catch his breath and finish his sentence. He was panting. “Legs already spread wide open for me.” The man stated, speaking nothing but obvious facts. You blushed. No one had ever spoken to you in such a way, and especially not on that specific tone which turned out to be quite exhilarating. Now moving his head down against the crook of your neck, you were able to feel warmth take over both your chest and crotch due to Tom still grinding his hips against yours. The movements stimulated your clit, sending chills down your spine and leading more love juice to leak out of your throbbing core. And even if the older man appeared more eager about the situation when it came to visuals, your soul was definitely suffocating with pleasure even if you remained slightly motionless and silent.

Sitting up on his knees, a smirking Tom made eye contact with you as he allowed himself to slide off your panties; taking them off your legs before carelessly dropping them to the side. Such a small piece of clothing certainly wouldn’t be a bother through your shared intercourse, which was the reason to why he decided not to pay much attention to where it landed. Besides, your father’s coworker felt too excited about what was to come to even care about such an irrelevant detail. You were panting, still trying to recover from this first contact which had left you damaged with pleasure and excitement. Though, little did you know, the real fun was only about to begin.

“My pretty girl’s got a pretty little cunt.” He praised, his fingers sticking together as he brought his hand down between your legs. You shivered, sucking in your bottom lip in anticipation to his upcoming touch. It would be the first time you would get touched by a man, by someone else than your own self. A part of you wondered how it was going to feel, though the second one couldn’t help but grow anxious and worried. However, before you could even think any further, you felt Tom’s fingertips collide with your sensitive core- sending chills down your spine and easily leading your hole to squeeze and contract. He chuckled, appreciating his good work and feeling satisfied about the way he managed to make you feel. Though, it wasn’t like Tom had ever disappointed a woman in bed before.

One of the older man’s hands landed beside your face, Tom holding himself up with the help of his left arm whilst his other hand took care of pleasing your core. His fingertips rubbed up and down your clit, sometimes pinching the hardened bud and manhandling it perfectly. His aim was to get your entrance to loosen up for him; and that especially after he took notice that you were a virgin. Tom wanted this intercourse to be pleasing for you too, and he was willing to use any tactic in order to help you to relax. His lips landed against yours again, trapping your moan within his cavity and pushing it back inside of your mouth with the help of his tongue penetrating your moist entry.

Once your moans began to get progressively higher pitched, Tom felt like it was now the right time to initiate you to the pleasures he was certainly going to provide you. Taking his soaked fingertips up to his lips, he allowed his tongue to taste the sweet juices before both his hands took ahold of the waistband of his briefs which was soon to be slid down to his mid thighs. You didn’t dare to look, eyes still staring at the ceiling until your view was blocked by your partner’s facial features. He smiled and you smiled back. “Well hello.” Teased the older man, a few words which easily led you to chuckle. In the position you two had adopted, you were able to feel his rocking hard shaft press against your clit- a sensation that didn’t fail to make you feel nervous.

“You ready, Princess?” Questioned your dad’s coworker, your legs immediately spreading a tad wider upon hearing those few words. Another kiss was laid on your lips, probably in order to distract you from the slight pain which was about to follow. And before you could know it, a warm mass was pressed against your cavity, soon penetrating your entrance and pushing past your hymen that broke on the instant. A high pitched groan escaped your lips which led Tom to intensify the kiss, his hips jumping on the occasion to move closer to yours until his cock had reached balls deep. Slowly pulling away from your face, his ocean blue orbs made eye contact with yours, analyzing your facial features in order to find out whether you were truly suffering or not.

“This is just temporary.” Promised the man, your entrance unwillingly clenching around his shaft which led him to let out a guttural moan. Taking his attention off you for a minute, Tom’s face looked down at your rubbing crotches- as if he wanted to make sure he was properly inside- before his head tilted upwards again. Noticing how you now appeared more relaxed, he was soon to begin the thrusting process- slow movements at first which progressively increased in pace with time. The friction created by the intercourse felt absolutely blissful- filling your soul with excitement and leading your heart to race. You were able to feel the muscle pump blood through your entire system as Tom continued to grind his hips against yours, happy grunts escaping his lips.

Both his arms slid underneath your shoulders, taking ahold of them in order to keep you more still through the pleasant process- and make it easier for him to thrust. Tom felt entirely satisfied with the situation that had taken place- taking notice of how you appeared to enjoy it too which could only make his member throb out of pleasure. Though his masculine ego still pushed him to check in order to receive a verbal confirmation. “You enjoyin’ this?” The man asked breathlessly, earning a single moan and nod from your exhilarated self. The man then proceeded to unexpectedly pull out, offering you no time to understand before you were flipped over onto your stomach. This once his hands landed on your bum, spreading your cheeks apart and admiring the way your entrance leaked with love juice. It looked extremely welcoming, and Tom was soon to step inside of your intimate home for the second time.

Feeling his cock penetrate you again brushed all of your worries away, eyelids shutting close as you began to be rocked back and forth against the bedsheets. Even without being able to see his face, you still managed to enjoy everything that Tom was providing you with on the instant. You could feel his pubic bone collide with your skin of your bum, your nipples perking up against the confines of the bedsheets. “Fuck baby.. So tight and juicy for me.” He praised, leaning down in order to offer your neck rough kisses and gentle bites. You moaned tiredly, rubbing your cheek against his like a cat would do against his owner’s legs. He had managed to take possession of your soul, and there was now only one way out.

Time passed, and Tom’s thrusts progressively began to grow sloppier. Being inexperienced, you couldn’t exactly tell that this indicated he was about to reach his high, though the way he appeared more tired and less energetic than before certainly gave you a clue regarding his state. Frowning out of exhaussement, the grown man was finally filled with temporary satisfaction upon sensing his shaft throb and pump semen out of his testicles in order to have the liquid spray out of his sensitive urethra. His semence stained your walls, giving no chance to the flesh of your cervix which was drowned in the thick liquid. You two moaned in harmony- this warm sensation providing you with one last bit of pleasure before your dad’s coworker agreed to pull out of you.

He collapsed on the bedsheets next to you, hand resting on his chest as he panted in order to recover from this intense moment. With the bit of energy that you had left, you managed to crawl until his silhouette in order to offer him a well needed hug, your arms burying against his ribcage as Tom was soon to turn to his side and secure your naked self with his large and muscular members. Feeling the warmth of his flesh in a whole other way still felt as satisfying as before, this cuddle providing you with as much happiness and bliss than the previous intercourse had.

Hullo thanks for reading! Thank you for liking and supporting my work. I genuinely hope you’re doing well! Take care.

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