#stupidly wholesome

[hugespace]

when you're going to burn in hell but at least you're doing it ✨together✨

[gardensnakie]

Dragon Loop is appalled that Siffrin asks if they would like to play fetch with a large stick. The nerve! The audacity! They tell him that they don't even have a proper mouth. But Siffrin confesses to being presumptuous, touching their head during the times they were meant to be resting together.

... At the price of having to relearn how to unhinge their pointless jaw, they agree to fetching a stupid stick for a little while.

[devotion-disorder]

i finished binging the entirety of a drama series AND the spinoff movie so now i feel like an empty hollow husk of a person. like something in me has fundamentally changed but im not sure what. it was 'Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity can make you a Wizard?' btw

[snarkylinda]

Btw gentle reminder that the halloween episode of season nine has this little scene at the start where Penelope and Spencer are discussing an Dia de los Muertos party and she tries to scare him with fake blood and his automatic response is a "Uh... are you ok?" and then she goes on about how J.J told she wasn't scary and, again, his automatic response is an "Oh...I am sorry :("

To me the purest scene on the whole show. At least between the adults.

[shidoukanae]

"Helene, standing next to the Empress, fidgeted, opening and closing her fingers as if she wanted to put her hands on my body. It was heartbreaking to see her desperately wanting to cast a healing spell on me."

this scene was so cute in the light novel i felt obligated to try and draw it!!

I really love how sweet Helene feels towards Lyla in the novel!! Seeing her be nice to Lyla is so refreshing.

And though I worried it would strip away a vital part of her character in the manhwa (that is, the mystery of the conflicting feelings she shows towards Lyla), the light novel more than makes up for it by making Helene's sweetness conflict with her apparently sinister nature :>

[uwooyoungs]

//

[byanyan]

ㅤ。.・ @wbslngr gets another starter bc what is self control

ㅤㅤ" didn't actually think you were gonna say yes to the suggestion. "ㅤbyan drawls as they drop into the seat across from peter, dumping their sketchbook and a few drawing utensils on the table. an excitement glints in their eyes, different from the look they wear while engaging in their more illegal hobbies — something almost earnest, like a kid who's made a new friend.

ㅤㅤ" dunno why, really. guess you don't look like the kinda person who'd be into tattoos. "ㅤironic, considering the whole twin thing and all the tattoos that mark their own hands and arm. flipping the sketchbook open to a blank page, they flash a grin.ㅤ" maybe we got a little more than just looks in common. "

[lovecla]

STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.

❄︎ pair: quinn hughes x y/n.

❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.

❄︎ word count: 5.6k

❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.

💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡

𖧷

Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.

But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.

It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.

None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.

When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.

Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.

And, well. Quinn’s not yours.

When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.

It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.

But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.

It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.

You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.

What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.

You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.

Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.

You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.

“Oh.”

Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?

“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?

You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”

You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.

You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.

Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.

“Y/n? Are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.

“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”

“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”

“Who’s… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”

“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”

“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”

“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”

“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—

“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”

You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.

“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”

“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”

How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.

“She is, yeah. She’s working.”

You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.

“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.

“Luke’s coming?” You ask.

“He is, yes.”

“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.

“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”

Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

You frown, shaking your head.

“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”

He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.

“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”

You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.

You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.

“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”

“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”

You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.

“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.

“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”

You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.

You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.

It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.

He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.

He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.

Whatever.

You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.

You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.

Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.

After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.

The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.

“Do you need any help?”

Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.

You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”

He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”

“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”

“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.

He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.

You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.

“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”

“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.

He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.

“It looks great, Y/n.”

You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”

“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”

You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”

“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.

“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”

“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.

He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”

He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.

“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”

You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.

You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.

He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.

You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”

“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.

“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”

“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.

“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”

“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”

“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.

“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”

“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.

“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”

“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.

“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”

“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”

“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.

“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.

“They’re not coming.”

“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”

“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”

You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”

“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”

Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.

His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.

You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.

You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.

You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.

You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.

Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.

Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.

The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.

You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.

And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.

It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.

“I thought you were asleep.”

This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.

He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.

“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”

You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.

“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”

“Why are you always running away from me?”

His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.

Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”

“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”

“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”

“Then, you just don’t like me?”

“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.

“What.”

It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.

“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Quinn—”

“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”

He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.

“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”

“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”

You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.

His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.

It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.

He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—

“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”

He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.

“Here?” he asks, chuckling.

“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”

“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.

Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.

“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.

“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”

“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”

He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.

“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”

He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.

“Quinn—”

“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”

He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.

“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.

“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”

“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”

He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.

“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.

“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”

“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”

You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.

You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.

“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.

Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.

“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of what happens is basically history.

He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.

He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.

He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”

“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.

You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.

“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”

He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.

He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.

“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”

“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”

“Quinn—”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”

“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Only yours.”

“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.

He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.

You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.

He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”

“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”

Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.

[blooming-cecilia]

ok see, my day has been rlly good bc whenever i get notes for this post and i check it and see yall's tags and replies and little hcs and it brighted my day even more until the next one comes in

and i was just about to reply to everyone until @the-gayest-sky-kid barGED INTO MY NOTES WITH ALL OF THIS DELICIOUS FOOD LIKE ????? SHAKES YOU???? HOLY SHIT IM BEING FED SO FUCKING WELL TONIGHT?????

i dont even know where to start bc im just lying here sobbing at all of the soft wholesome silly hcs bc ive been seriously craving for days

im in such a massive soft domestic venti mood like god i need to talk about it w someone or i explode. just like. what do u think his fave chores are. whats grocery shopping like with him. what does he usually have on his list and whats his fave section in there. imagine shopping for household items with him. maybe we need new silverware? new mugs? cooking utensils? maybe it's time we treat ourselves to new sheets? curtains? breakfasts in bed or making breakfast together and silly shenanigans from two people in love ensue. cleaning the house together and ending up sitting on the floor w messy boxes everywhere and theyre all opened bc ur now going thru albums instead of cleaning. anything. everything. i just need to talk about shit like this w someone but nobodys on the soft domestic mood these days please

[lacy-oh-lacy]

do you do still do hcs for marvel girls? If so, would you be willing to write something about them x stupidly innocent reader? like, reader is blissfully unaware. Waaayy to pure to be a superhero, but they still are. just a bunch of wholesome wholesomeness. :)

oh, could it also include reader not knowing much about modern earth, if at all? Similar to how confused/in awe Mantis from GOTG was when she was on earth during the christmas special ♡ thank you!

Too sweet ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

Summary: The Marvel women's dynamics with a clueless, pure-hearted cinnamonroll reader | hcs

A/N: This is such a cute idea! sorry for the wait

CW: Very brief mentions of Valkyrie's alcoholism, kidnapping and sexual harassment

-In many regards you and Nat are opposites, she's almost as cynical as you are innocent, but one thing you have in common is your deeply rooted kindness so you get along well.

-Your earnestness almost reminds her of Steve when she first met him but dialed up to 1000, and like with him it's a lot easier to build trust with you than she usually finds it, and you generally bring out the best in her.

-She's so protective of you. Sure, you're strong and you can handle yourself, but the thought of anyone corrupting your idealism makes her violently upset, she'd defend it with her life.

-She loves your pure-hearted nature, but she hates knowing how easily it could be taken advantage of. She's always watching out for you and scaring off anyone with potentially bad intentions.

-The blind faith you have in her, even after learning about her past, honestly makes her so emotional. You see her as a hero, more so than she'd ever dared to hope she could be, and she pulls so much strength from your perception of her when she needs it.

-You and Wanda are both outsiders in your own ways, but she could only wish to have your innocence and naivety. She’d almost be bitter, but you're just too pure to resent.

-In truth she adores you, you're the shot of light she desperately needs in her dark life, and your sweet, stupidly innocent energy perfectly balances out her more thoughtful and serious personality.

-The world's rarely been anything but cruel to Wanda, so she can't relate to your enthusiasm over the place, and yet it's infectious, she loves that the simplest things can leave you in awe.

-You're actually a good influence on her, bringing her out of her shell and encouraging her to try new things, often that both of you are experiencing for the first time which is a valuable bonding experience for someone like her.

-The almost naively positive outlook you have on her, even when the rest of the world just sees a monster means so much to her, some days you're the only thing keeping her spirits up and reminding her of who she really is.

-Carol is positively smitten by you, she thinks you're just the most precious thing in the galaxy and loves having you around.

-Regardless of your age, experience or the nature of your relationship, she can't help acting like a bit of a mentor to you, because as much as she loves how wholesome you are, she's determined to make sure it doesn't get you killed.

-You really fire up her protective instincts, she's especially quick to throw punches at anyone making a gross pass at you because you're too naive to notice what creeps they are, but she never has the heart to explain to you why.

-Usually though, she's the first to explain anything you're confused about, she'll pause any conversation you're getting lost in to catch you up, always so patiently and gently without any judgment.

-She loves showing you around all her favorite places (which is an ever-expanding list with how much she travels), finding it adorable how excited you get.

-Valkyrie’s known a lot of people just as stupidly unassuming as you are, but she also never really learned how to deal with them. So nothing about you surprises her the way it does others, but she doesn't exactly get you either.

-Despite herself, she finds you ridiculously endearing though. She can hardly take you seriously most of the time, but she appreciates that someone like you exists and respects you as a hero.

-But she’s not above trying to wind you up too, though any of her teasing goes over your head anyway, and she's very quick to tell anyone else to knock it off for doing the same thing.

-She's a cynic and she doesn't sugarcoat that for you, quite the contrary, she actively warns you about the dangers of the world. It's not like she wants to crush your innocence but she doesn't want you in any easily avoidable danger either and if that makes her a buzzkill so beit.

-As odd a pair as you are, Valkyrie likes working with you. Your positivity keeps her from face-planting into a bottle, and her street smarts keep you from following strangers into unmarked vans. All and all, you make a pretty great team.

-You're kind of like an infinitely less intimidating version of Yelena, so after dealing with her, getting along with you is a piece of cake for Kate, you're probably even drawn to her like Yelena seemed to be.

-She's used to being the more wholesome optimistic one herself, so she really matches your energy, in fact you can be each other's biggest enablers, but she'll definitely be responsible enough for the both of you when she has to be.

-She's smooth enough to make up for your ‘quirky’ brand of confused social skills, always covering for you when you say something bizzare, although begrudgingly because she loves your authentic, unfiltered self.

-She finds your awe and confusion adorable, but don't worry, she efficiently catches you up on whatever you need to know as you need to know it. You're not walking into traffic on her watch.

-She honestly loves being your tour guide, your enthusiasm is just so infectious. She's shown you around basically every crevice of New York, and if she wasn't a budding superhero she'd probably take you jetting across the world just to keep seeing that sparkle in your eyes when you discover something new.

[hugespace]

[theonevoice]

Have a gold star...

I swear, I started this as a wholesome innocent comment on how when Crowley has to think of a prize, after 6000+ years, his sweet head still goes to stars as the ultimate symbol of something beautiful and cherished.

But then I was struck by something: sarcasm.

Both times, when he tells someone to "have a gold star," he doesn't say it with a tone of affectionate irony, like the cool-but-sweet uncle with a rough personality but a soft heart. He says it with a tone of bitter sarcasm, of painful disenchantment.

Because it's not a prize that he is offering; it's a sop, a cruel joke-gift, something that will get you excited at first just because you have a stupid, naive, innocent soul, and you will later realize that it means nothing to the one who assigned it to you, and that they are ready to take it away whenever they want, while the rest of the world laughs at your ridiculous gullibility.

Because this is what stars were for him.

They were his beloved, exciting creation. The star-factory nebula was his cherished task, assigned to him by God, and he believed that it was meant to be a thing of beauty and splendor, and hold value in the grand scheme of the universe... only to discover, immediately after he created it, that it was never intended to have any value at all. It meant nothing to God. It wasn't even planned to last enough to fullfill its purpose. It was a joke, a cruel prank. 

The stars were God's bad pun of giving angel!Crowley something to do, and love, and have hope and expectations for, and then taking it away. Revealing that it was just a shiny piece of gold cardstock that only a simpleton could consider valuable. Of course he can only say "have a gold star" as a dry snarky sarcastic comment on someone who thinks they have achieved something meaningful when it's actually nothing. Be it the Them defeating the Four Horsemen. Be it Muriel being noticed by the Metatron.

Great, sure, have a gold star, be all excited and squealing with happiness, it will turn into ashes before you even know it.

I am not sure that Crowley's snake eyes were ever intended to signal that he cannot see the stars because snakes have bad vision (even ignoring the zoological fact that they are sensitive to UV light though, so they should still see astronomical objects, in the book it says that demons must be able to see at night, and that's why Crowley doesn't need to turn on the lights on the Bentley), but for sure the Fall and Heaven's cruelty has ruined the stars for him, in a way.

Now, in his mind, they are the ultimate symbol of delusion, of naivety, of foolishly investing your love and passion and hopes in something, of stupidly ignoring that the things you cherish will be ruined or taken away from you or leave you on their own accord.

That's also why Aziraphale's "nothing lasts forever" cuts him so deep. That's why his "no... no, I dont' suppose it does" sounds so much like a truth that he is remembering instead of one that he has jsut discovered.

Here you go, you did it again, you thought you had something significant and instead it was just like your stars, you should have known that whenever you find something beautiful it's just a matter of time before you lose it, you shouldn't get too attached.

In s1e6 he says it to the Them, in s2e6 he says it to Muriel. I do hope that in s3e6 he will get the chance to say it again, but this time it will be honest and out of joy, because whatever is going to happen will make him able again to believe that you can be happy, and can hold onto the good things that you love. You can have all the gold stars, for real. They don't always have to disappear and leave you in pain. They can stay with you.

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes that has you breathless. “It’s another form of self-love, is my thinking. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, trying new things and ultimately, living a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[megumishotgf]

more jjk + mha fic recs !! ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ

in my unemployed era so i have hours to scroll on this damn app... here are more fics that i loved!! featuring: megumi, satoru, nanami, toji, yuuji, yuuta, katsuki, izuku, shouto (whew there's a lot of them today. your girl has been READING) credits to all these talented writers!! pls check them out!! masterlist more fic recs pt. i pt. iii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

you and gumi bond over books (he reads a book you're interested in just so you have someone to discuss it with. bawling)

multiple-part enemies to lovers smau!! (this is SO FUNNY. i cried from laughter more than once)

more enemies to lovers (lengthier fic, so so good + smutty)

you give megumi valentines day chocolates (so so cute he just loves u so much)

secret relationship trope + poor yuuji walks in on you making out (poor baby is traumatised)

more secret relationship + getting caught (i love this one so much)

your silly tired bf just wants kisses

it's late, you're wandering in your ducky slippers and see megumi patching himself up

megumi falls in love with milf! reader (omfg... i love this sm. i've never considered being a cougar until now)

friends to lovers with megumi (high school a.u + gumi buys reader sanrio)

thinking about megumi's hands (i js know they are pretty. thinking of all the unspeakable things they can do)

comforting insecure megumi (my poor baby. a lil angst but dw there's a happy ending)

: ̗̀➛ kento nanami x reader

kento comes home early (so cute and precious. im crying i need him to be real so bad)

he gets hurt bad and you can't stop crying (angsty but also fluffy don't worry this doesn't end like shibuya)

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

riding toji until he whimpers omfg (he gets embarrassed and teaches you a lesson ahhh)

your fiancee toji finally gets freed from prison (they finally freed my man anyway you suck him off while he drives omfg)

sex as payback for your noisy ass neighbours (im losing it)

really cute dating headcanons

more on toji being a simp for you (HES SOOO)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

"my girl is mad at me i hope i die" that's it

y/n + satoru being stupidly in love (now this one has a kick to it.i'm crying)

satoru is obsessed with you but you're oblivious (pining satoru)

boyfriend texts w/ satoru

fucking satoru in the prison realm (AHHHH)

satoru begs to fuck you at some high profile event (u js look so cunty in that outfit and it drives him crazy)

car sex with satoru AHHH

satoru lets u try on his blindfold (hes such so :( so so adorable)

you get hurt and satoru is worried (wow this is so well written. happy ending + gojo centric)

: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader

fucking ur friend yuuji in a club bathroom (this is so so good)

"if we had a baby would it be mine or sukuna's" (this is hilarious)

yuuji comforts his gf who's not his 'usual type' (its me im the short gf with a big chest) (i’ve been coming back to reread this daily)

: ̗̀➛ yuuta okkotsu x reader

blowing ur big dick bf yuuta (canon)

really really romantic sex w/ yuuta (straight up making love)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugo x reader

domestic headcanons (i love them and i love him. help)

more cute relationship headcanons

katsuki is obsessed with gossiping and eavesdropping when you and your friends spill the tea (this is so funny i love it sm)

dragging katsuki to the club bathroom because u love him (this is so wholesome im crying)

kiri notices how whipped katsuki is for you

guard dog katsuki is jealous

: ̗̀➛ izuku midoriya x reader

mating press with izuku (this actually drives me crazy. written so well and in character)

izuku is just so fucking precious (i can't take it anymore)

: ̗̀➛ shouto todoroki x reader

shouto gets halved by a quirk but not like gojo, there's js two of him (there is one obvious thing to do now)

dr. todoroki promises to breed you properly (i'm convulsing)

you're insecure after giving birth and shouto comforts you (with loving words and his dick)

resolving an argument w/ ur bf shouto (so cute!!)

eating u out in the kitchen (omfg)

there is an overwhelming amount of smut i'm sorry this is kind of embarrassing i'm just super horny lmao

[frickingnerd]

dating hawks / keigo takami

pairing: keigo takami / hawks x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, established relationship, overprotective & jealous boyfriend!hawks, physical affection (kissing & touching)

hawks has lots of dating experience and it's kind of intimidating to know how much. he has been asked on countless dates already!

you might not want to introduce hawks to your friends, knowing the effect he has on women. they are likely already crushing on him and meeting the flirty bird would just make things worse…

hawks fell in love with you quickly, but didn't admit to himself right away how serious he was about his feelings for you

he’s really direct and can express his feelings well, if he chooses to do so. but teasing and joking around is just so much more fun to him~

he also doesn't blush too easily, but if you manage to catch him off guard, you might get to see your boyfriend get all red and flustered!

hawks is really protective and stupidly reckless. he would get himself killed for you, so you have to try to keep him out of trouble

and hawks is pretty jealous too! he knows what it's like to have a lot of admirers and he doesn't like his partner having those too. he's scared you would be too nice and couldn't reject your admirer, so hawks always sticks around you and tells anyone getting too close to you to back off!

hawks is really clingy, but only if nobody else is around. sure, if others are there he'll still keep an arm around you, but if they are alone he will shower you with kisses!

he also loves getting really sweet present for you or just surprise you with a date! those often include flying across the city to your date destination

[lostreverb]

when he's home

(evan peters x fem!reader)

inspired by: a fic on ao3 that i cannot find for the LIFE of me, will update if i do find it :'(

- summary: your husband evan comes home in the middle of the night from a long work trip.

- content: good ol' wholesome vanilla smut, p in v, yk the regular (?) stuff (btw i'm not good at writing smut srry), very slight angst, pregnant!reader (early pregnancy, NOT A KINK just a plot point)

a/n: not proofread, this is my first evan fic PLUS my first fic on tumblr so i do apologize for any posting etiquette mistakes and/or just an overall shitty fic!

__

evan dropped his bags by the door, careful to not make much noise as he went straight for the stairs. he was downright exhausted, but excited to hold you in his arms again after a month apart. the european press tour for his latest film just ended and he only had a few days off before having to hop on another plane, so there was no time to waste.

as evan turned the doorknob to your shared bedroom he halfway hoped you'd be awake. he could imagine the sight: you curled up in bed in his t-shirt, still scrolling away on your phone despite how late it was. a light chuckle exited his lips at the thought.

when he entered the bedroom you were in bed, curled up and sporting one of his favorite t-shirts. but you were asleep. evan approached your still body, admiring the soft snores emanating from you.

considering the phone in your hand it was safe to assume you fell asleep using it (which made the "lovrhd yuo missssxcym youuuy" text he had last received from you make much more sense). when he gently took it and plugged it in to charge, you stirred in bed, brows furrowing.

"welcome home" you mumbled, eyes still closed.

"hi baby," he replied in a whisper before kissing your forehead. a smile was evident in his voice which made you smile in return. you opened your eyes to see him leaning over you, a stupidly joyous grin plastered on his face. "and baby..."

you both looked down at your abdomen. a rush of feelings hit you as you were reminded of the reality you were going to be parents.

"how are you.... two?" you both laughed at his clunky delivery. "is it weird to say it like that?-"

you swiftly sat up and sweetly brought your lips to his. evan's stubble tickled your face which made you grin even wider, if that was possible.

"i missed you.." evan breathed between kisses, his voice filled with desire.

"i missed you too- so fucking much..." your hand reached his cheek and he leaned into your touch, putting his large hand over yours. the way he looked at you, completely and utterly in love, made your heart melt.

you hoped he knew you felt the same exact way.

"to answer your question," you began. "we're doing very well. i made an ultrasound appointment for tomorrow morning but look-"

you lifted your shirt to your chest and laid back.

there it was. well, kinda.

your stomach protruded slightly, only a little more than whenever you got bloated, but it was firm.

evan stared.

you chuckled at his reaction. "i told you your pull out game is weak as hell, but you just never listen do you?" you teased.

he laughed in response, shaking his head as he leaned down to give you a long and deep kiss. seeing you like this- with your bump, proof of your child's existence- was overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

"i love you... i love you.." evan whispered again and again while lightly taking your chin in his hand. he moved your head around while placing small pecks all over your face, making you giggle. his kisses were somewhat sloppy and wet, exposing the underlying neediness in his romantic affection.

"i love you too baby..." you pouted.

evan moved to your stomach and gave it a few soft kisses as well. you wouldn't be surprised if this was all he was going to do for the next couple of months. you wouldn't mind either.

he laid beside you, one arm propping up his head, the other reaching over to grip your side, rubbing it with his thumb. there was a pensive look on his face as he returned to staring at your bump. you could tell he was trying to hide it, but it was obvious something was definitely bothering him. normally you would've spoken up about it, but you wanted to give him the space to speak on his own time.

"i can't believe i have to leave you again..." evan muttered.

ah... that's right. in a few days he would be gone again, while you stayed behind to work on your own projects. the timing of everything was frustrating for the both of you.

you ran your fingers through his dark curls as you spoke. his shoulders relaxed a bit at your touch. "it's only for a couple more weeks-"

"i don't wanna miss anything"

"i know but, it's early... not much is going on anyway-"

"still, i wanna be there for you-"

"you already are" you reassured him. he always worried if he was doing enough, if you were happy, even though he always went above and beyond to meet your wants and needs. it pained you that these thoughts plagued him. "evan, it's not forever.. you'll be back before you know it"

your husband looked up at you with an exhale. he knew you were right, and was appreciative of how easily you were able to bring him down to earth. he took your hand off his head to kiss your knuckles individually, his lips lingering longer on your wedding ring. beginning at your hand, he kissed up to your elbow, before bringing his thigh over and straddling you. with his body hovering over you, you couldn't help but turn into a blushing mess. evan took this as the perfect opportunity to tease you.

"mrs. peters..." he said with a sultry and endearing cadence. "what would i do without you?"

addressing you like that always short-circuited your brain despite the fact you had already been married for 4 years. you both knew this very well.

"oh fuck off..." you smiled, looking away from him.

"woah, language... we've gotta get a handle on that mouth of yours. can't be cursing around the babe" he joked and pat your stomach.

you turned back and pulled him towards you desperately, hands roaming his neck and the curls at the back of his head. your tongue dove deep into his mouth, soft moans escaping your lips from time to time. your legs bent and unbent, squirming under your husband's dominant position. you knew what was coming next but you didn't know in what way and your mind was going crazy flashing explicit images in your head of how evan was going to take you. to say you were aroused was an understatement.

one of evan's hands went from caressing your hips to underneath his your shirt, cupping a handful of the soft flesh of your chest. you winced, having forgotten the new sensitivity of your breasts. evan pulled back, looking at you with slight concern.

"i'm okay, i'm okay, just a bit sensitive keep going-"

he hesitated but took your word for it and continued massaging, albeit much more gentle. your underwear's fabric went over his hand as he went to grope your bare ass, revelling in its malleability.

"hey, are you sure it's-" evan said as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

"yeah it's fine-" you answered quickly, untying the drawstring of his sweats. "i asked my gyno-"

having your approval, he tapped your sides signaling you to lift your hips, removing your bottoms and placing a pillow beneath you for comfort. you returned the favor, pulling down his sweatpants and briefs in one swift motion. evan took two fingers and slowly slid them repeatedly through your soaked folds, gently squeezing your clit with the two digits rather running over it.

"shit..." he mumbled under his breath. the fact you were already so excited for him contributed greatly to his own arousal.

"who needs to watch their mouth now?" you breathed out with a smirk.

evan's eyes crinkled and he let out a chuckle. "remind me to make a swear jar later" he now stood on his knees in between your legs, pumping his length. he readjusted himself to line up with your center before pausing to look down at you. "let me know if it's uncomfortable or something doesn't feel right and I'll stop-"

it was adorable to you that he still harbored concern for you after you told him it would be okay, but you had an almost feral desire that needed to be satiated.

"baby... i need you to fuck my brains out" you said with desperate laugh. your hormones were haywire and it had been about a month since you last had sex. you needed this.

"okay my bad" evan laughed once again then thrust himself into you.

the sound of both your groans filled the room as he bottomed out and began bucking his hips. wanting to be close to you, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his gasps muffled by your skin. the feeling of him inside you was addicting for sure and your body moved against him naturally, accentuating the pleasure. you could tell he was careful not to put too much of his weight onto your stomach, which was as much endearing as it was attractive.

"i missed you so much...needed you..god.. so good.. i love you..." the string of sweet nothings whispered into your ear between his moans made your body quiver. you wrapped your trembling legs around his waist while your arms tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to take it off. evan helped you, removing it within a second and throwing it god knows where.

you were reminded of his tired state as his thrusts were rough and inconsistent. nevertheless they were filled with love and kind of exactly what you wanted from him. evan being the sweet man he is, was never really rough (at least at his current age, you both were a little crazy when you were younger) unless you really asked (or begged) him to.

your voice became shaky as you quickly began to reach your peak. "fuck- evan!" you cried out in pleasure.

evan's whole body shuddered in response to your whimpers, his need for you only growing. his movements were more intense now and you were sure he was close as well.

you returned to kissing him in a passionate daze, your hands going anywhere on him your body could touch. a few more deep thrusts pushed you over the edge and your entire body shook as your lips gave a shaky wail. not too long after evan spilled into you. he began to lay on top of you in his exhaustion before correcting himself and rolling to your side.

"...you okay?" he asked in a soft tone, as he does every time.

"mmm.. fan-fucking-tastic" you murmured and turned to put your head down on his chest.

evan wrapped his arm around you, bringing you into a gentle embrace, instinctively rubbing your bump. being in his arms was the best feeling in the world. he loved to keep you close and cuddled up against him while he caressed your body. that's when he found you the most beautiful in pure moments like these. he kissed your forehead tenderly, looking down into your lovely eyes as he pulled away. you noticed he was smiling again. then broke into an adorable chuckle.

"what?" you asked, his laughter contagious.

"i'm just so happy baby..."

"me too..."

you cuddled him tighter and you both fell fast asleep, bodies intertwined, a little part of both of you sandwiched inbetween.

__

(this is such a clunky nothing burger of a fic grrr i'm sorry)