#the outline of my favorite flower on his chest

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 1

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SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), slow burn, yearning, soft!Ezra, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), reader is a millennial but otherwise not described, Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.1k

a/n: This one is for all my Thackary Binx girlies. I've had some version of this story in my brain for years now. I'm very excited slash nervous to be sharing it with you!

Thank you @moonlitbirdie and @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thanks @tinytinymenace for suggesting the title and @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me ramble about this.

🐈‍⬛

Connor’s mouth is on you before you can get your key in the door. He’s lucky he’s a good kisser because he spent most of your date talking about his music. You’re lucky you don’t have a guitar because you’re pretty sure he’d serenade you. 

“Sorry. I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says after you press him back. 

You laugh, triumph blossoming in your chest.

“At least control yourself until we get inside,” you tease. 

You hold his hand as you let yourself in. It’s quiet and dark now save the little reading lamp beside the faded, floral sofa. You’re relieved, maybe nobody’s home. 

“Cool place,” Connor says wandering in behind you. 

He’s taking in the details of your little apartment— a small kitchen tiled in green and an equally cozy living room. The attic ceilings slant with the roofline. There are pressed flowers and astrological charts on the walls, their frames outlined by the vines of overgrown philodendron. You pull him into another kiss so his eyes don’t linger too long on the books on your shelves, before he wonders why the spice rack is full of jars of belladonna and blackthorn instead of garlic and cinnamon. 

He squeezes your hips and your hands lace through his hair. Connor might not be the one but that’s not what you’re looking for. He’s exactly the kind of guy you won’t feel guilty about ghosting. Until then, he’ll be a good lay. 

He’s got his hand up your shirt when you hear your bedroom door squeak on its hinges. Out saunters Ezra, stretching out his long, black body like he’s just woken up. He was probably dozing on his favorite spot in the bay window.

“Hi, Ez,” you say, stepping out of Connor’s arms. Your cheeks heat, feeling like you’ve been caught doing something obscene.

Ezra brushes against your shins, a move that’s more territorial than it is affectionate. 

“Did we wake you?” you ask, scritching him on the white patch between his ears. 

“This your cat?” Connor asks. 

To call Ezra your cat as if you owned him doesn’t feel right. Even calling him a cat seems inaccurate. Ezra’s been your familiar since you were 18, passed down through generations of your family, but he was once a witch in his own right before being cursed to live in this form for 1000 years. 

“That’s Ezra,” you say, sidestepping the question entirely. 

 “Ez, this is Connor.”

“Hi, kitty. Pss pss pss,” Connor tries, crouching down to offer a hand for Ezra to sniff. 

Ezra does no such thing. He merely looks at him disdainfully, then his golden eyes shift to you with a look that says you’ve got to be kidding me. 

“Want a drink?” you ask, pulling Connor’s attention away. 

“Yeah,” he says. He takes off his jacket making himself at home. 

Ezra never approves of any of your dates and he isn’t shy about letting them know it, scratching up their jeans and hiding wallets under the couch. Once he left a hairball in a pair of new sneakers. As much as it drives you insane, you can’t be angry with him. It’s his job to not only be a companion and do your bidding but also to protect you. Now it feels like you’re bringing dates home to your older brother. Your older brother by a few centuries. He was turned sometime before the country existed. 

As you pour two glasses of wine, Connor slips his hands around your waist and his lips graze your neck. You’re already working up incantations for passion, whispering the words to yourself as he kisses down to your shoulder. The one good thing about being a witch is you can mask even the worst sex with a little bit of magic. Not that you have low expectations for Connor. There’s a promising bulge where you grind your ass back into him.

A crash rouses you from your reverie. 

“Ez!” you bark. 

Ezra has swatted Connor’s phone to the floor. He sits on the counter with a mild defiance on his feline face. 

“That’s ok,” Connor says, retrieving it and turning it over. “He didn’t mean it. Right bud?”

You’re not sure that cats can roll their eyes but Ezra does whatever the equivalent is before turning away with his tail raised to give Connor a full view of his asshole. He hops gracefully to the floor and retreats back into the other room. 

“Sorry. He doesn’t really like…people,” you say. 

“That’s ok. As long as you like me,” he says, pulling you back into his body. 

You laugh at him before you let him kiss you.  

—

“Should we go to the bedroom?” you ask. 

You’re straddling Connor’s lap on the sofa. The strap of your black, lace bra dangles off of your shoulder. 

“Huh?” he replies, as if he’s been roused from a trance. “Yeah.”

You chuckle to yourself. His lips are kiss swollen and eyes dazed. There’s a reason why witches are known to be seductive. Mortals can’t resist the magic.

You slide off of his lap and guide him up towards your room. 

Ezra’s sleeping on your pillow, curled into a soft little ball. 

“Wait here,” you tell Connor, depositing him on the edge of your bed. “Let me just—“ 

You scoop Ezra up and he lets out a yowl in displeasure. You take him to the living room, set him on the back of the couch and he blinks up at you, groggy and annoyed. 

“Exiled once again,” he complains, his human voice a silky southern drawl. 

“Just for a couple of hours. Can you stay out here?” you ask, your voice hushed. 

“Have I not suffered enough?”

“Youre right. It’s so terrible.” You roll your eyes.  “I make you sleep on the couch instead of the bed.”

“Two hundred and fifty three years in this feline form—“ he goes on. 

“Keep your voice down,” you hiss. 

“ —And the true curse is listening to you fornicate with a cavalcade of dim witted mortals,” he goes on.

“Did you say something?” Connor asks. 

You whip your head around to find him standing in your doorway.

“Not to you, hun,” you say. With a flick of your finger, he turns on his heel and goes back inside. You’ll have to cast another spell to rid him of any magical memories.

“I live here, too, little mage,” Ezra says. 

“Well, when you start paying rent, we’ll get a two bedroom,” you quip. 

“That little jest never gets old,” he grumbles. 

He leaps down from the couch and heads to the entryway. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, keeping your words as quiet as you can.��

“Leaving you to your debauchery,” Ezra says over his shoulder and he disappears through the flap in the bottom of the front door. 

—

In the morning, you wake up alone. 

Of course, you got rid of Connor as soon as you were sated. He asked to see you again to which you have a noncommittal answer. 

You’d expected Ezra to return, though. He might complain about being kicked out of bed but he knows nobody stays the night. 

“I only sleep with one man and that’s you,” you joke all the time. 

Each night you rest your chin on the top of his head, his warm body pressed back into your chest. It’s hard for you to fall asleep without Ezra purring beside you.

You linger for a while after getting dressed, sitting in the bay window and watching the leaves begin to fall. The apartment feels so empty without Ezra in it. It’s too quiet. That damned cat has two centuries worth of stories and you’ve heard them all ten times. You’re constantly begging him to shut up. Right now, you feel oddly lonely. 

Eventually you decide that waiting around for him is silly. You’ve got to get to work. Fortunately, you only need to venture down the back stairs and you’re there. Your apartment is in the attic of The Arcane Page. 

You let yourself in and you’re immediately hit by the smell of leather bound books, old paper, and the drying herbs Aunt Margot has hanging from the ceiling. The shop is packed so tightly with rows of bookshelves and oddities, it’s almost impossible to tell that this used to be a proper house. What had once been confined to the front rooms grew to take over the kitchen and sun porch, up the stairs to the bedrooms until the whole thing functioned as the store. 

The old Victorian is just off the main street that’s filled with quaint cafes, gift shops, and antique stores. It attracts all sorts— wannabe spiritual types looking for selenite wands, academics in search of rare books, and old ladies drawn in by the lush garden out front. Witches, too. The basement is full of spell books and strange ingredients, off limits to mortals. 

You hear aunt Margot’s jewelry before she comes into sight, Her gold earrings tinkling, bracelets jangling.

“Morning, dear,” she says, without glancing in your direction. She knows you’re coming before you arrive and not just because she can hear you on the back stairs.

She’s behind the counter in one of her regular linen dresses, dark hair streaked with silver falling around her shoulders. She pours from her porcelain tea pot.  

“Has Ez come down here?” you ask, glancing around the bookshelves to all of his favorite hiding spots. 

“No?” she says. She pushes one of the cups your way. Delicate and decorated with spell work, the scent of assam wafts up to your nostrils. “Percy, have you seen your friend Ezra?”

A little white mouse appears on the counter, paws clutching one of Margot’s rings. He scrunches up his pink nose at the suggestion he’s a friend of Ezra. Margot’s familiar has never gotten along with him. Despite the fact that one of them is a demon and the other is a cursed witch, the old cat versus mouse thing is somehow universal. Ezra’s threatened to eat Percival a hundred times, sometimes leaving dead chipmunks and mice at the threshold of the bookstore just to amuse himself. 

Percy shakes his head haughtily and then wraps his body around Margot’s steaming teacup. 

“He’s mad at me,” you sigh. 

“How come?” she asks, an eyebrow arched curiously. 

“I had company last night.” You put the cup to your lips as soon as the words leave you. 

“Let me guess. Another mortal.” Margot rolls her dark-lined eyes. She leans on the counter and sips her tea. 

You just shrug. 

“Then I don’t blame him,” she says. 

“It’s not the ‘50s. I can date a mortal. Didn’t you read Harry Potter?” you ask, knowing it’ll get a rise out of her. 

“You millennial witches and Harry fucking Potter. 

A mortal—“

“Killed my great great great great grandmother. I know,” you say. As if you haven’t had that fact drummed into you since you were old enough to walk. You decide not to mention how hypocritical it is that Margot dislikes mortals when she’ll happily take their money. It’s not worth it. The two of you have had this argument a hundred times. 

“I like mortals. They’re uncomplicated,” you tell her. 

“Uncomplicated? They’re boring.” She sets down her tea cup. “Have you ever been with another witch?”

Your cheeks heat at the question. Not because she’s your aunt. You’d tell her just about anything and, considering the fact that she raised you, she knows pretty much all there is about you. You’ve had plenty of sex but you’ve never done it with a witch, a fact that makes you feel like a virgin all over again. It’s not for lack of trying. There’s just not a whole lot of hot, single witches in your area. And while you’ve talked about going somewhere where the witches are in excess— Salem, New Orleans, Portland— you’ve always found some reason to stay in the Catskills screwing mortals. 

Luckily, you don’t have to answer Aunt Margot’s question because Percy squeaks and she says, “I know but she won’t.” Then she turns her attention to you and translates, “Percy says you ought to just summon Ezra.”

You frown at him. You could. A simple spell would compel Ezra to return to you but you can never bring yourself to cast it. Maybe if he were just an ordinary familiar, not a witch with his own desires, you might feel more comfortable using magic on him like that, but he has so little of his own. The least you can give him is the freedom to be alone if that’s what he wants. 

“You spoil him,” she tells you. Sometimes you’re not sure if Margot can read your thoughts or if she just knows you well. “He’s your familiar not your roommate.”

You finish your tea and put the cup down on its saucer. 

“You know what? I’m going to shelve some books downstairs,” you say. 

“Oh would you look at that,” Margot says, peering into your empty cup with amusement on her lips. “Maybe there is a witch in your future after all.”

She holds the teacup out for you to see the wet leaves have formed a clump in the shape of a heart. 

—

Ezra’s limping by the time he returns home. The sun has already begun to dip below the trees, painting the sky autumnal shades of purple and orange. Though he resents the idea he’s turned into a house cat, he’d much rather spend the night on the couch than have to do another in the damn woods. No matter how much it hurts. 

“Where the hell have you been?” you ask when he slips back through the cat door. 

You’re immediately kneeling beside him, concern cutting your pretty features. Shame settles between his shoulders. As your familiar, he has no right to disappear for an entire day. He almost wishes you’d punish him— dunk him in an ice bath or beat him with a hair brush like some of his old masters had— but he knows you won’t. You’re too good to him. That’s where he went wrong and fell in love with you. 

It happened slowly. You treated him more like a pet than a servant. From the very beginning, you let him sleep in your bed, drifting off to sleep as you stroked his belly. Sometimes he thought you were the one purring. You talked to him.  Not just about magic but you shared your entire life with him. No witch had trusted him, called him a friend in all the time since he’d been cursed, not until you. 

As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized this was more than just affection. You were beautiful and bold. And he couldn’t do anything about it. 

You’re off limits in every way. In human years, you’re not young but you’re practically a child compared to his 300 years. The bond between witch and familiar is sacred, a line even a witch as forward thinking as you would never dare to cross. And, of course, there’s the little matter of his being a cat. 

“I was getting really worried,” you say. 

“You requested solitude,” he responds. 

You sigh and pick him up, setting him on the counter. 

“You hurt your leg,” you tutt, taking his paw in your hand so you can examine his injury. 

He spent the night prowling the forest, anything to save himself the agony of hearing you with that mortal. In this self pity, he’d picked a fight with one of the feral tomcats that lives in the old graveyard. 

“This is why I don’t like it when you stay out all night,” you chide as you disappear into the bathroom. “Those cats are vicious.”

You return with a small jar of healing ointment you brewed specially for him.  

“I’ve walked this earth a cat longer than those mangey beasts. Longer than I was human,” he says. 

You begin by cleaning the cut, his fur now matted with blood and leaves. Your touch isn’t unfamiliar to Ezra yet he still wonders what it would be like to feel your skin, the softness of your cheek and plush thigh without a layer of fur in between. To hold your hand with one of his own. 

“I’m sorry I kicked you out last night. You’re right. You live here too. And I know you don’t like mortals,” you say, as you clean his wound. 

He’s let you believe that that’s why he’s so petulant when you bring your suitors around. Mortals have never been his cup of tea but he absolutely despises the ones that you bed, humans that have no business being with any witch let alone one like you. 

“They’re below you. You deserve a proper witch,” Ezra says. 

That’s a far more painful reality. Even if he were in the running, which he never will be, There are thousands of witches more worthy of you. One day you’ll find one and Ezra will watch you fall in love. With someone else. He’ll stay the same just as he has all these years, and be your loyal familiar even as you inevitably share less with him. He’ll watch you age and fade. Eventually, he’ll lose you entirely. Perhaps you’ll have a daughter that will take him on as her familiar but he can’t imagine caring for any other witch half as much as he loves you. 

“Come on. You act like you never seduced a mortal,” you say. 

The peppermint oil of the ointment tingles on his tender leg. 

“There was an art to such things in my time. One had to concert more effort than opening an app,” Ezra says. 

You smirk as you finish bandaging him. 

“I got you something. To make up for it,” you say when you’re finished. 

You glance towards the coffee table, a cheeky smile playing on your lips. Ezra follows your gaze to find a tray of take out sashimi waiting there. His stomach growls. Perhaps he is a house cat. He’d forgotten to catch himself dinner.

You bring him over and lift the plastic lid off of the container and Ezra sniffs at the glistening fish. It smells glorious.  

He wishes he deserved you. You know what he is, what he did to be convicted of such a harsh curse and yet you care for him like no other witch has. 

He swallows down the lump in his throat. 

“Is this tuna belly?” he asks. 

“Your favorite.”  

“I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you,” Ezra says though you’ve done nothing wrong. 

You scoop him off of the table, cradling him like a baby. 

“Easy on the wound, little mage,” he complains but secretly his heart swells. 

You laugh and kiss the white patch on his brow. 

“I love you, Ez.”

🐈‍⬛

Part 2

I'd love to hear from you! Don't be shy!

[soombee]

༄｡° as autumn leaves start to fall.. 🍂 ࿔*:･ﾟ

yang jungwon as your boyfriend (spooky szn edi!) ᡣ𐭩·⁀ ༄

ᯓ notes: dreaming about these dates rn cus SOMEONE has to study for state testing and is too busy studying to go on dates w me so i will live these dreams out through friends and fics 😓

ᯓ wordcount: 1515 / 1.5k words

oh, and, fic playlist here -> autumn

1.) Pumpkin Carving 🎃🍂

golden hour — jungwon’s house

as you two lay out a comfy setup in the backyard: a soft, miffy blankets, fairy lights casting a warm glow, and two steaming cups of hot cocoa by your side. you two are surrounded by a selection of imperfect pumpkins you picked out together this morning, each one varying sizes and maybe a little lopsided. you scan the pumpkins, making sure to pick out the best one. after what jungwon describes as “an eternity,” you finally pick one that’s a bit dented on the back side while jungwon goes for the biggest, determined to create a masterpiece you’d surely love

you settle in and begin carving, laughing as pumpkin guts and seeds fly everywhere

jw: “euughh, digging in these pumpkins feels so nasty…” he says, immaturity filling his mind

yn: “you’re nastyyyy!!” you hit his side with your elbow, careful not to get any pumpkin slime on him

jungwon chuckles, getting back to being focused and careful as he starts tracing out his design. you try to take a peak at his design but jungwon hastily hides it from you, pulling the pumpkin closer to his chest

“no peeking”

you scoff, “i bet mine’s prettier”

jungwon raises his eyebrow, “yeah? we’ll see abt that when we show each other” he sounds oddly confident, it pissed you off (as a joke)

yn: “awfully cocky for a guy who failed middle school art” the atmosphere became quiet as you two start to get serious about this “competition”

. ࣪⭑ 🍂⊹ . ݁🎃࣪ . ⭑

meanwhile, you were trying to carve a cute snoopy outline but ended up with something slightly wonky, making jungwon laugh even harder

“i thought you said no peeking!” you defend with a giggle, tossing a handful of pumpkin seeds his way

jungwon gasps dramatically, pretending to shield his masterpiece from your seedy attack

45 minutes later — sundown

as you continue carving, the sun dips below the horizon, and the twinkling lights around you make everything feel warm and magical, like it as a disney film

jungwon quietly carves a tiny pumpkin, glancing at you with a soft smile before revealing it with a grin — it’s carved with your initials and a little heart

your cheeks turn pink, you can’t help but tease him about it, even though u secretly loved his romantic gesture

“u want me so bad, jungwon”

“pfft, you’re one to speak” he rolls his eyes playfully at your bad joke

finally, (several pumpkins later…), you finally made a perfect snoopy and woodstock carving. you light little candle inside your pumpkin, getting up and stepping back to admire your creation

“damn, for 12 pumpkins, that’s actually really cute” jw exclaims as he looks at his surroundings, which is filled with pumpkin guts and seeds

“show me urs then!” you defend your mess, “bet it’s a real halloween masterpiece”

“hmmm, don’t get too scared then, yeah?” he turns his pumpkin around, revealing the cutest surprise

the words ‘will you be my gf?’ carved into the middle

“you’ve made me the happiest i’ve ever been these past few weeks, yn,” he gets up and grabs a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind the rose bushes, “will you do me the honor of being my one and only girl?”

you hold on to his shaky hands, attempting to stabilize them, “holy shit jungwon,” you look up at him with teary eyes

he wipes away your tears, “wait are you oka—”

you cut him off with a peck on the lips, “i’d be delighted to be your girlfriend” you pull away as your other hand finds his cheek

jungwon’s eyes widen in excitement, “told u mine was better” he pulls you in for a warm hug, kissing the top of your head

with the crisp fall air around you two, candles flickering, soulful music, and laughter filling the night, it was a perfect autumn memory, one you will always remember

2.) Haunted Mansion 🪓

09:43 pm — haunted mansion

after a 4 minute walk from the parking lot, you and jungwon were greeted by flickering lanterns casting eerie shadows on the stone walls of a nearby fence. fog drifting around you and ghostly sounds echoing through the air, you both try to act brave, but your heart is racing a little faster than usual.

jungwon, hearing your heart beat out of your chest, brushes his hand against yours, causing you to jump

“jungwon!” you place your hand on your heart

he giggles, “i swear i didn’t mean to scare u! i was trying to hold your hand, trust me” he watches you roll your eyes

he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “dont worry,” he rubs your upper arm, “im here to protect you —unless it’s a monster — then we’re both running..” you giggle at his playful demeanor, knowing you’re about to be entering the biggest mistake of your life

you two enter the mansion, hallways dimly lit with only an occasional flash of light and haunting noises seeping from every corner. the suspense is getting to you, and with each creak of the floor, you cling a little tighter to jungwon’s arm, practically bruising him. he tries to lighten the mood, cracking silly jokes and attempting to scare you first from here and there but a well timed ‘boo’ from a hidden actor jumpscares you both

jungwon lets out a small yelp, sending you into fits of laughter in the middle of the hallway

you make your way into a room of mirrors, where your reflections are warped and ghostly, occasionally seeing a fake actor behind your reflection. you laugh at jungwons exaggeratedly frightened face, only to shriek when a real zombie actor suddenly appears behind you in the mirror, making you both bolt towards the exit, laughing and breathless, still holding your sweaty hands

finally out of the maze of hallways, you both pause to catch your breaths, cheeks flushed from the thrill

“i can’t wait to do this again next year” jungwon looks at your reddened face and tired expression, how can one be so cute..

“no.” you pat his cheek, knowing damn well this was going to be an annual date

3.) lazy day-te 🤍

sleepover — yn’s house

the living room is bathed in a cozy warm glow, halloween lamps twinkling along the house, the spooky decorations jungwon surprised you with adding a festive touch. you and jungwon matching minion onesies, him being the crazy purple one of course

the evening begins in the kitchen, youve been sending jungwon tiktoks about the infamous pumpkin bagels, unfortunately located across the country so jw had the lovely idea of making it in the comfort of (basically) his own home.

first, flour. you try to carefully scoop one cup into the mixing bowl, but jungwon decides to be extra dramatic. he grabs a handful and releases it from high above, creating a cloud of flour that drifts straight into your hair

“jungwon!” you protest, brushing flour from your face with a pout, while he laughs, wiping a bit of flour from his own cheek, “you’re so annoying—“

he cuts you off with a kiss, carefully deepening it by grabbing your nape. his tongue hesitantly licking your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. you part your lips, allowing his tongue to slip in.

“better now?” he pulls away from the kiss, catching for breath.

you punch his stomach lightly, “you’re so bad, won”

he giggles as he goes back in for seconds

after making the batter — 39 minutes later

you two finally put the bagels in the oven, “finally,” you stretch, “would’ve been faster if u werent here” u squish his cheeks, which are — in fact — softer than a baby’s butt

“it’s more fun when i’m with you” — jw.

“more like suffering” — yn.

while the bagels bake, you and jungwon spent the next hour talking about random topics — life, feelings, new discoveries, etc. — and flirting.. (yuckyyy)

*ding*

the timer on the oven beeps, cutting through your convo. you both turn towards the kitchen, the sound appealing to your delightful distraction. “they’re done!!”

jungwon grabs your wrist playfully, pulling you back down as he gets up

“race u there”

“no fair, cheater!!” you quickly get up but, to no surprise, he’s already in front of the oven

“slow poke” he teased as you poke your tongue out at him

standing side by side at the oven, you both lean in, the warmth flowing up to greet you. the bagels are bright orange, their shapes accurate resembling wonky pumpkins

“they’re so cuteee!” you take your phone out and start taking pictures of these miniature pumpkins

“just like you” jungwon mumbles to himself as he stares at you in awe

as he pulls the tray out, the laughter and playful banter continue, but beneath it all, there’s a warmth growing between your relationship, one that feels just as satisfying as the freshly baked bagels waiting to be enjoyed by two people who deeply love each other

i wish men knew what women wanted without having to ask for it 😓 #HopelesslyRomantic #FrickMen #WhoWantMe

[storm-angel989]

Idea: Val's Teenage Daughter is at school and she is crushing some boy from her class (or something like that) and HE LIKES HER TOO and gives her a flower, and later on Val (or her uncle's, I don't know) found the flower hidden in her backpack, because she was embarrassed of telling them (or scared of their reaction, whatever your think is best)

Hi friend, 

Sure thing! Take a peek below! This was super cute to write!

<3 Mandy

Ninth grade dances were going to be the bane of my existence. 

As I looked around at the kids I had known most of my life, I tried to imagine dancing with any of them. I couldn’t really- I had known the others way too long, and had way too many memories stemming back to kindergarten for me to see any of them as anything other than a sibling like friendship. 

Except for one. 

He had moved to our school from the greed ring at the start of the school year. Quiet, handsome with dark hair and brown eyes. The first time I looked at him I felt a feeling in my belly I had never felt before. 

“Oh, someone has a crush,” my best friend teased me when I told her as we got ready for afterschool practice. 

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied as I pulled on my swimsuit. “But it doesn’t matter. Did you see the other girls in class? He literally can pick anyone and they’d swoon.”

My best friend rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not anyone. But come on, we’re going to be late and I don’t want to swim extra laps because you’re crushing, hard.”

As the weeks passed, I found myself seated next to him in more than one class. We exchanged a few words, passing remarks about assignments. At lunch he sat with the rest of the boys, and during study hall, he sat in the front row, his pencil constantly moving across blank paper. By mid September, curiosity finally got the better of me and I asked him what he was so busy working on.

Sketching was the answer. Pages and pages of drawings, detailed outlines of objects and characters from his favorite shows. 

“These are really good,” I praised him. 

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, you’re just saying that.”

“No, really, I would know. My Aunt Velvette is an artist,” I told him. “She designs clothes, and she draws on literally everything. One time, she left her sketchbook in the office and she made my Uncle Vox turn around and go back to get it. We missed our flight. My dad was super pissed.”

That elicited a laugh. From that point on, he made it a point to sit by me, to share his sketches in between classes. And the more we talked, the bigger my crush grew. As the halloween dance grew closer, I imagined that there was one way I was going- and that was as his date. 

Two weeks before the dance, he presented me with a red rose. Standing next to my locker at the end of the day, I flushed bright red. Was this really happening? 

“I get it if you think dances are lame, but you didn’t say you had a date, so I was wondering if you’d be mine?” He asked. “Or if you do think its lame, we can go get pizza or something instead?”

“How about the dance and then pizza?” I suggested as I took the rose from him. 

“It’s a date,” he agreed. 

Joy overflowed from my chest. The bell rang and we both took off towards our respective rides- him to his bus, and mine to the limo. I slid into the seat, staring at the ruby red petals. I had a date. Not only a date, but the date! 

“Did you have a good day?” The driver asked.

My stomach dropped as realization flooded through me. I had a date. That meant I needed to tell my Dad. And my mom. And my Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox. The notorious V’s. Hastily, I shoved the rose in my backpack and pulled out a book. 

“It was fine, thanks for asking,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. 

As soon as I got inside, I hurried up to my Uncle Vox’s office. As carefully as I could, I took out my homework, being sure to keep the rose hidden. Thankfully, my Uncle Vox was too busy working on his computer to say more than hello and I busied myself in my homework. As soon as I finished, I gave him a kiss on the cheek and rushed back downstairs. I knew I couldn’t risk them finding the flower. It would have to stay in my backpack until I could put it in my locker the next day at school. 

The more I thought about it, the more I cheered up. In fact, I wouldn’t even tell them I had a date to the dance! I would just say I was going with friends. This way, I could avoid all the questions I knew my family would have. In relief, I hung my backpack on the door. 

“So, did anything exciting happen today in school?” My Aunt Velvette asked over dinner.

I felt the color rise in my cheeks. Quickly, I shook my head and shoved a bite of chicken into my mouth. 

“Really?” my Dad asked.

I quickly lifted up my water glass and took a sip. I shook my head again.

“Oh, well. I got a note from your teacher today saying you have a test that needs to be signed? You’re not doing so well in math?” My father asked with his eyebrow raised. “Did you have Uncle Vox sign it?”

“I didn’t sign anything,” Uncle Vox said as he took a sip of water.

“Oh, I, uh, yeah, I forgot about that,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry, I just…it’s really hard this year.” Or the head that I stared at was super cute. 

Valentino exchanged a glance with Vox and Velvette. 

“I’ll take a look at it,” Vox said. “Not a problem, math gets a little more complex in high school, nothing I can’t walk you through.” He stood up and dropped his empty plate in the sink. 

I watched as he walked over towards where my backpack hung. 

“No, wait, Uncle Vox! I can get it out,” I said quickly as I jumped up. 

“Why? Something in here you don’t want me to see?” He teased as he dug around in my bag, “I promise you a few bad grades won’t kill your GPA. What color is your math book again? Yellow?” He paused, “now where did this come from?” 

I felt my heart sink and my cheeks flush as he pulled out the crumpled rose. Vox looked to Valentino and Velvette. 

“Okay, fine. I sort of got asked to the dance, I wasn’t gonna tell you, but I..” I blurted out. I turned to run and hide in my bedroom but Uncle Vox stepped in front of me.

“You have a date? To a dance? And you wern’t going to tell us?” Aunt Velvette exclaimed. “Reader!”

I buried my face in my hands as embarrassment rushed through me. 

“Why not?” My fathers calm voice broke through the silence. 

“Because, I didn’t want him to be interrogated and I really like him!” I exclaimed in frustration. “You three are the most powerful overlords in hell, it isn’t like he can just come to the door and pick me up like my friend’s dates do. You’re gonna want to meet him, and that alone is intimidating and I…it isn’t fair!” 

“You are taking this way too far,” my Aunt Velvette said. “And being super dramatic. Take a breath.”

“Yeah, we won’t threaten to kill him more than once,” my Uncle Vox said lightly.

“Don’t tease Vox,” Aunt Velvette retorted. “Babygirl, come sit next to me.” 

Slowly, with my gaze down, I sank into the chair next to Aunt Velvette. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder. 

“Hey, you can always come to me. We might be the overlords of hell, but I promise you I’ll keep the boys in line,” she told me with a sharp look to Valentino. “And I promise when he comes and picks you up, we’ll be on our best behavior. Right, boys? You don’t ever need to keep secrets from us. Got it?”

Slowly, I nodded. She released me and planted a kiss on the top of my head. 

“Good. Now, let’s talk about that math test…”

[ashwhowrites]

oooooh I have been saving up requests for a while for you. here's one for now, I don't want to bombard you

"I don't know what to say to that"

"then don't say anything"

eddie & reader in love but reader always tries to cut whatever tension w humor/cracking jokes bc she gets overwhelmed by how serious eddie gets when telling her all the things he loves about her & why he loves her. she (so obviously) loves him too she just doesn't know how to handle all that emotion bc she's never seen or felt love like this in her life. eddie wants to change that

you can make it gn if you're more comfortable writing it that way!!

-☀️

this is literally how my partner and I work. I am obsessed and go on rants about everything I love about them.

Small blurb of two people in love

Not proofread

Eddie Munson was a deep person, he put a lot of thought into his ideas, he took time to really understand the things around him, and his emotions showed on his face. He wore his heart on his sleeve. He was passionate about the things he loves, and the people he loves.

Of course, Eddie was hyper and chaotic, always laughing and joking around. But he could turn serious in seconds if he was fully focused on something, and Y/N loved that about her boyfriend. Except, when she was his focus point.

Y/N was not used to someone admiring her, Eddie treated her like she was royalty. He worshipped the ground she walked on and stared into her eyes whenever she spoke. Turned his body to face her during conversations, brown eyes locked on her, even if she wasn't talking to him.

He was so wrapped up in her, everything she did took his breath away and he wanted to soak in her warmth. He could lay in bed with her all day and would spend the rest of his life doing the same.

~~~

It was an early Sunday morning, Y/N was laying on Eddie's chest as he ranted about his dream. His soft fingertips softly ran up and down her arm. Halfway through his story, he got silent. Y/N looked at him confused, only to find him staring down at her with a smile.

"What?" she asked

"You have the prettiest lips you know that?" Eddie thought out loud. His head was all focused on his dream, but the sun outlined her lips and now his head was stuck on that.

"Oh shut up, continue your dream." She waved him off

"Like the perfect shape, gorgeous color, and so soft." He trailed on and on, his thumb resting on her bottom lip as she softly tugged it.

And this is what Y/N struggled with. His eyes and attention of just on her. She felt her body grow hot and nervously laughed.

"You just like what my lips can do," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"I love that too, but that's not my main reason. I love that your lips feel like a safe place. A kiss from you just calms my body and gives my brain a second to shut off and restart." Eddie smiled, his thumb brushing her lip softly.

Y/N struggled with words, so she settled with hiding herself in Eddie's neck.

~~~

Eddie loved to draw, it was something he felt like he was good at. And his girlfriend was his perfect muse.

"And done!" Eddie stated proudly, a huge smile on his face as he cleaned off his notepad.

Y/N looked up from her homework, a smile on her face, assuming Eddie finished his math homework.

"Want me to check your answers?" She offered

"Oh.....I am not done with math." Eddie said with a nervous smile.

"Munson, we have been in this booth for an hour and what have you been doing?" She questioned, trying to sit up to look over the table.

Eddie smirked as he turned over his notepad, a proud look in his eyes as Y/N took in the drawing.

"Is...are those my eyes?" She was taken aback by how beautiful the drawing was. A collection of eyes scattered across the page, but each pair was slightly different. The eyes showed different emotions, happy, sad, and one that stood out. The eyes were so soft, warm, and so much emotion.

"Yeah, baby. This one was when you found your favorite flower at that one shop."

"Do you have a favorite flower, Munson?" Y/N asked, skimming through the flower shop. Robin's birthday was coming and Y/N decided on flowers and dinner as a gift.

"Baby, I don't know anything about flowers, maybe the yellow ones?" Eddie shrugged, looking over all the different colors.

"Many can be yellow." She laughed, shaking her head as she reached up to grab Robin sunflowers.

"What's yours?" Eddie asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"Pink roses!" She said excitedly, her eyes catching a row of pink roses.

"And this was when you found that baby turtle in the middle of the street with no mom."

"EDDIE STOP!" Y/N screamed, Eddie slammed on his brakes. Panicked eyes looking over at Y/N

"what's wrong?" He asked, watching as her eyes began to water and tears ran down her face.

"That turtle! They are all alone, we need to bring them home." She said, throwing off her seatbelt and running into the middle of the street.

"BABY! WATCH FOR CARS" Eddie screamed after her, shaking his head as she scooped up the turtle. She came back with her eyes still tearful but a smile on her face.

"What's the last one?" Y/N asked, she was amazed by all the different emotions but that last one intrigued her.

She watched as Eddie blushed, his pale cheeks turning pink and his ears turning red, easy to tell since his hair was in a low bun.

"Um, that one was after we had sex for the first time." Eddie coughed out, nervously chuckling as he went to close the notepad, but she was quick to snatch it.

Holding it closer to her face as she took in the details.

"What was I looking at this time?" She asked, tracing the shading around her eyes on the page.

"You were looking at me." He admitted with a smile. "It was the day you looked at me the way I felt for you. Your eyes tell me everything about you and that night they told me you loved me."

Eddie always had a way to make Y/N at a loss for words.

"I just, I don't know what to say. I wish I could show my love for you like how you can. You know the right words and the actions. " Y/N ranted out, handing him the notepad.

"You don't have to say anything, your eyes tell me and that's enough for me," Eddie said, leaning over to kiss her, she smiled and met him halfway across the table.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[tw1l1te]

Song of Storms

LU Sky x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ minors please DO NOT INTERACT, some fluff, angst

Fem reader is implied. Not necassarily final promise!au, so intepret it as you will. This one is a bit short, but I like it lol

~

Sky was mentally exhausted. Flying out on night watch was his least favorite part of the day because it meant he had to leave you. It meant that he couldn't feel your warm body against his, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you dreamed of serenity. On top of that, it had started to storm about an hour ago, barely being able to see his gloved hands in front of his face.

He was supposed to be returning to Skyloft now, but he had no sense of direction as the rain pelted against his goggles, fogging up the lenses no matter how many time he'd wiped them off.

A large lightining strike lit up the expanse of the night sky, Skyloft's outline just barely being visible miles away. If he flew straightforward, he should be able to make it before he was struck by lighting.

Petting Crimson, he flew fast, wind whipping his hair around, rain drops pelting his face harder and harder. It felt like tiny needles falling on his face, but he had to come home. He needed to come home to you, or you'd kill him.

His fingertips on the brink of frostbite, he sighs in relief when he sees the Knight's Academy come into view. Despite having the option of living on the surface, he felt nostalgic of his life in the sky, no matter what memories it brought.

Landing on the wooden deck, he yelled out to the Nightguard about getting Crimson somewhere safe, already enthraled with the thought of seeing you. Giving his Loftwing one last pet, he ran off to the entrance of the academy, already in the process of stripping his gloves off of his hands.

He pants as he closes the door behind him, the raging storm echoing off the walls. The hallway was dark, only the faint glow of the sconces on the wall illuminating his path to you. His home.

Turning right, he sighs in happiness seeing his door, knowing you were just on the other side, waiting for him. Your knight.

He unlocks the door, quietly walking in and closing the door behind you. The room was dimly lit with a few candles, you hunched over on the bed, reading a book Sky bought you. You quickly shut the book, running into his arms, ignoring how cold and wet he was.

"Holy goddesses, Sky! I was so fucking worried-"

He shuts you up with a passionate kiss, his entire body tense from the night's treachery. He needed this. He needed you.

"Shh, it's ok my Flower. I'm here, I'm home. I'm not going anywhere, ok?"

You nod, placing your forehead against his, relishing in the domseticity. You knew he's have to leave again tomorrow night, but you wanted him until then. You allowed yourself to be selfish, just this once.

~

"Fu-ah! Sky, fuckfuckfuck!-" you moaned, head tossed back on the pillow. Sky was above you, hips slamming at an astounding pace. You thought tonight was gonna be more slow and intimate, though you weren't complaining. You were in heaven.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezin' around me jus' like that. I'm gonna fill you up so good. So, so good."

You clawed at his chest, needing something to hold on to as the living daylight was being fucked out of you. Instead, Sky grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, leaving nothing in between him and you.

"Gonna fill your little pussy up so good. Make you nice and full with my kid. You'd love that, wouldn't you princess?"

You whimper loudly, arching off the bed. Sky brings his mouth to one of your breasts, his tongue circling the swollen bud. You wrap your legs around his waist, stars in front of your eyes as the coil in your stomach tightens.

"Mmh- Link! Link I'm gonna fucking cum- Linklinklinklink-"

And you came, hard. Clamping around his cock, he practically growled into your ear, chasing your orgasm with his own release. He shot thick white ropes inside of your heat, kissing your neck as you both calmed down, him slowing down his thrusts inside of you.

He lays on top of you, kissing your face lightly. He coos in your ear, praising you and how good you felt. His hands never leave your body, pawing at the plush of your thighs and kissing the curve of your breasts.

He suddenly flips you over so your on his lap, cock still nestled deep in your heat. Hands on your hips, he mutters:

"Let's really make sure you get pregnant this time, Princess. I wanna hear you sing for me."

~

[hey-august]

I'll Be Your Whatever - Story Hiatus

Description: Life is full of all sorts of characters - some who come and go, and others that stay. After propelling yourself into a lie you can't (won't) take back, a certain pirate captain may have a reason to come by more often. (Story tag)

Alrighty, I would very very much like to come back to this fic one day, but I truly do not know when that will happen. I think the outline I put together took away some of the drive to write the actual story, but I still want to SO BADLY.

So this story doesn't remain unfinished for however long, I'm going to share the outline I put together using beat sheets and story arcs.

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @ane5e @venulus @misadventures0fdes You asked to be included in the tag list for the story, so I'm also tagging you here. I'm sorry for dropping the story and this hiatus, but I hope knowing that the ending exists brings some peace!

For reference: CB = Captain Buggy, MC = Main Character (aka, you, the reader!) WC: ~1.4k

As a recap of the story so far, MC tried to get 2 overly flirtatious guys off her back by saying a stranger passing by was her boyfriend. That stranger was Buggy, of course lol. Trying to stay low and play the part, MC and CB kiss. They joke about CB continuing to be a boyfriend and MC mentions having a treasure chest. A few days later, CB shows up at MCs place with flowers and saying he'll agree to be her boyfriend if she promises him the treasure map.

Chapter 4

They go on a mini date, as a way for them to talk about the agreement - they talk about the timeline and how long to "date." They decide to go get lunch.

Hot dog lunch. Hint at CBs favorite food.

CB blows kisses to MC while she’s in line.

Contract: 

Don’t tell the truth -  a deal’s a deal

MC pays for food

Compliments for Buggy

Hold hands

Kissing? We’ll figure it out if we need to

Buggy has to stop by whenever he’s in town

Buggy goes to the town festival - MC tries to convince CB to agree to go to a town festival in a few weeks or whatever, long enough for dudebros to lose interest. Offers a treasure map.

"If I’m being totally honest, that sounds like my worst nightmare."

MC stands up to someone who tries to insult Buggy’s nose. Fiery. They have to leave wherever they were. CB is impressed by her spunk.

B Story - CB inviting MC to visit the ship. 

At some point CB invites her, a shadow passes over her face, he asks if she really dislikes the idea that much.

MC feels stuck to the small town and guilt about her dad missing those kinds of experiences. She looks at Buggy's eyes and sees the draw of the ocean in them. Whatever enticed Buggy and her dad to love the sea, is reflected in his eyes.

Chapter 5

Fun and Games - coming to the weekend market

Oh yeah, no he said he wasn’t able to make it. But! CB shows up unexpectedly. YN blows him a kiss and he catches it.

CB gets into a scuffle at the weekend market.

Rowdy customer, "how about I pay you in kisses, pretty thing? No? Whatever, this shit isn’t even that good."

“no one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? no one.”

They eat fresh donuts, “oh you have to try these, they’re my favorite,” MC dabs some powdered sugar off the corner of his mouth.

Test of love trope! Conducted by a new jewelry shop. Start easy - eye color, fave food, feed each other, draw each other, blindfold and guess their partners hands, winners get matching bracelets. This is their first kiss.

CB putting the bracelet on MC "This means you’re mine. That’s what you wanted, right?" She gets A LOT of butterflies.

Walking back, the pictures they drew of each other blow away and fall into a tide pool. MC wading through water to get the drawings.

He made the day so special and she doesn’t want this to ruin it.

The drawing / picture she made isn’t that bad, he actually kinda likes it himself. So MC gives it to him. He becomes more enamored with it when she goes to save it from the water.

Nearby sailors / pirates laugh at MC in the water (lighthearted), she calls back that it’s not like they don’t get dirty treasure hunting.

CB gets butterflies from her insistence and calling the papers treasure.

Piggy back ride home? Slightly spicy. It was like their skin was calling out for the other's gentle touch.

Chapter 6

Fun and Games cont - MC said she would see CB off the next day but she doesn’t show up because she’s sick from the previous night.

CB comes by, sees that she’s okay but sick. 

He leaves for a moment and comes back with some stuff to help her feel better. He also postponed shipping off until the next day.

She bashfully asks if he’ll stay a little longer. He stays until she falls asleep.

MC calls him pretty boy and he hecking likes it.

She wakes up the next day to a note telling her that he won’t be in the area for a while.

Chapter 7

Mini scene, MC notices that the dudebros seem to have moved on. They asked for a double/triple date, but MC deflects bc who knows when CB will be in town.

MC mentions this to CB in passing.

Midpoint - Next time, MC visits CBs ship. It’s a good visit. Overall a positive experience. There is some real-ness to life aboard the ship.

Cabaji shows unicycling, meet Mohji and Richie, CB shows off knife throwing (maybe a contest between him and Cabaji, CB wins and Cabaji says at least he’s better at unicycling)

Buggy helps rig the new sails

Pirates swap stories. Talking about what it was like adjusting to life on the ship, but how amazing it is. All the sights and experiences. She has stars in her eyes while listening. Her mind sketching images of what’s being described. She’s even comfortable talking about her dad.

How do you tell your fake bf that you're nervous near him because you're starting to fall for him?

MC likes seeing CBs swagger and how his crew adores him. CB puts his hand on her shoulder and kneads.

She stays overnight (one bed), CB doesn’t sleep.

Chapter 8

Bad Guys Close In - As MC leaves, she’s accosted by pirate thugs, who notice she’s been hanging around CB.

Maybe they think she’s a sex worker? Sugar baby? She tries to say that’s not it, then they think she must be something more special. They could probably get a ransom.

Chop chop Buggy comes in to save the day. Or CB throws a knife, trapping them. CB walks her back home, tries to make it seem light hearted, doesn’t want MC to be too afraid.

MC is a bit unphased since pirates are always visiting.

MC kisses CB goodbye on the cheek. “Could you try that again?” “Better?” “Yeah…”

Chapter 9

All is Lost - Break up because CB is afraid MC will become a target. CB breaks up with YN, afraid of putting her in danger.

Even though CB dealt with those other pirates, that doesn’t mean there won’t be others 

He doesn’t want to put her in danger any longer. Besides, the guys she was avoiding seem to have moved on.

MC asks if he found someone else, something more fun, feels cruel because they don't really think that's what's happening.

I guess my expectations were too high.

Dark of the Night - MC storms back and hands off the map. "A deal’s a deal and I don’t want to be in debt to a pirate."

Wrapped around the map is her bracelet.

Chapter 10

Dark of the Night - Why does CB change his mind? - He reads a letter on the back of the map and realizes he should give it back to MC.

Break into Three - CB's waiting for her at the party. A deal’s a deal. He also gives back the map and leaves.

MC probably talking with the art shop owner:"He likes you, I can tell by how he looks at you." "How does he look at me?"

"You think he's really waiting for me?"

Finale - MC reads the note on the map and runs to the dock for CB. 

Note, from dad: “My dearest seashell, I thought being a pirate was how I could see the world, but then you came along and I saw the world through your eyes. Thank you for giving me the greatest gift anyone could ask for. I hope that one day, you find your key to the world.”

CBs not there? He’s by the wading pools, looking at the moon and drinking alone.

CB moping

How long do you think it’ll take for this to become a memory? Do you think you’ll forget about me?

They wanted to be touched, to be missed, to be loved. Was that too much to ask for?

He’s wearing both bracelets.

"Why did you come back?" "Because that belongs to you, it has your name on it."

"Bullshit, Buggy. You’re a pirate. A treasure hunter. Why did you really come back?"

"Why do you think?"

"You actually wanted to go to the festival?"

"That’s not what I want."

Anguished declaration of love - confessing love during a moment of angst

"I don’t want to stay here anymore. I want to leave. I want to draw the world you see."

MC is steadfast and waits for Buggy to respond. “I want that too.”

Big romantic kiss

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Do you want to?"

"Yes, you have no idea how much I've thought about this."

[flyingwargle]

sakuatsu week day 1: "i've waited for this."

it’s a simple setup, rows of chairs on either side of a white carpet decorated with flowers that ends at the altar, an arch with curtains on either side, adorned with a beautiful assortment of fauna. the ocean and sky meet in an infinite expanse of blue, the sun giving its blessing onto the couple of the hour. the guests chatter amongst themselves, dressed anywhere from elegant suits, traditional kimono, radiant dresses. the minister awaits on the altar, waiting.

with uniformed footsteps, the couple arrives to walk down the aisle, arm in arm. the crowd jumps to their feet to applaud, whistle, and cheer, throwing flower petals in the air. a few have their phones out to record the moment, taking photos as the couple walks by, clad in matching pink suits and red bowties, smiles wide at the family and friends gathered together.

at the end of the aisle, before the minister, stands their best men. osamu’s smile shines brighter than the stars in the galaxy, motoya subtly wiping away tears with his hand. the couple reaches the altar, turns to face each other before the minister. atsumu’s upper lip wobbles as he tries to hold back his tears; kiyoomi can’t help but look at him fondly, with an adoration that has cultivated for years upon years, and will continue to grow, for as long as he lives.

once the crowd is seated, the minister starts. “it is my pleasure to officiate one of japan’s first same-sex marriages on this lovely day,” he begins. “may the couple find nothing but happiness for the rest of their lives, and may nothing threaten its validity, for as long as i have breath in this body.” he turns to atsumu. “miya atsumu, do you promise to take sakusa kiyoomi as your husband, to be there for him in sickness and health, and stand by his side, no matter what obstacles may come?”

“i do.” despite the tears in his eyes, his voice doesn’t waver.

the minister turns to kiyoomi. “sakusa kiyoomi, do you promise to take miya atsumu as your husband, to be there for him in sickness and health, and stand by his side, no matter what obstacles may come?”

“i do.” it’s a vow that he has made over and over, a vow that is legally recognized at last.

“please exchange rings to show your vows to one another.”

he steps back, and both partners reach into their pockets, where they stowed their wedding band for each other, a slim silver band with the outline of a weasel engraved on the outside, and the outline of a fox on the inside. kiyoomi slides his band over atsumu’s ring finger; atsumu does the same.

“i now declare you husband and husband. you may now kiss.”

kiyoomi cups atsumu’s cheeks, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion that surges through him. atsumu rests a hand on his chest, leaning forward to capture his lips. the crowd roars, throwing the remaining flower petals in the air.

when they break apart, their fingers intwine together to face their audience, witnesses to their union. “congratulations!” hinata shouts. bokuto is bawling beside him, the rest of their teammates whistling.

on the other side, aran has also been reduced to tears, kita gazing fondly at his underclassman. ginjima and kosaku shout at atsumu, suna unwavering as he films the entire ceremony. the husbands step away briefly to hug their respective best man – osamu wraps his brother in the tightest hug possible, and kiyoomi steps into his cousin’s arms. “congrats, kiyo.” motoya is on the brink of tears. “it was so beautiful.”

“thank you for being here, motoya.”

his cousin starts sniffling. “anything for my favorite little cousin!”

kiyoomi rolls his eyes, then turns toward osamu, who is approaching him for a hug. motoya happily embraces atsumu; kiyoomi gets a harsh slap on the back instead. “ya promised ta take care o’ ‘im.” just like his cousin, osamu’s voice is also thick. “i expect ya ta hold onto yer word.”

he thinks of the arguments over the years, the disagreements, the tears and slammed doors. every time it happened, he would always find atsumu at onigiri miya, crying or complaining to his brother. he witnessed their every up and every down, will continue to do so. now, however, kiyoomi has made a promise to only go up from here.

“of course,” he answers. “you can expect nothing less.”

osamu releases him, and kiyoomi finds atsumu’s hand again, whose tears have begun to flow freely. he turns to wipe a teardrop away, and atsumu smiles, overwhelmed by a sob. “i’m not sad, don’t worry. i’m just- i’m so happy, omi. ya have no idea.”

“i do.” even if he remains stoic, his chest feels like it’s about to burst with love, mind filled with endless mornings and nights with his husband, official papers and documents that recognize their marriage, maybe even a future with kids. anything is possible now, and he scarcely know how to start.

instead, he begins with a kiss on his forehead, lacing their fingers together again. atsumu turns, and kiyoomi lowers his head to kiss him again through the roaring applause. before they leave the altar, he pauses to take one last look over his shoulder, husband by his side.

they’ve waited for this, and it’s finally theirs. they turn, ready to celebrate with their loved ones, for tomorrow, they’ll face life as each other’s husbands, united forever.

--

inspiration: fanart of sakuatsu's wedding!! <3

[jinkookspencil]

my daisy | kth

you're late... but your lifelong crush helps you get ready

description/tags: taehyung one-shot / angst and suggestive / taehyung is her childhood family friend and neighbor / historical!AU! / this can be any historical era you wish it to be, it was inspired by the regency era, bridgerton, and taehyungs photofolio but it can be the early 1900s if you want it to be too it's really not that specific / ~1.9k words

rating: 18+ minors dni / 18+ even though it's suggestive because it starts out in an 18+ way but reader is alone (she is touching herself) /

author's note: this is my first time writing taehyung!! i had this written in my drafts for a while, intending to publish it when layover was out in celebration of him! <3 finally completely edited for like the third time and now i can finally get to work on my requests. i hope you guys like it :') i literally gave him one of my favorite scenarios of all time.

A chill summer breeze wafts through the windows, cooling your otherwise sweltering bedroom… though a bead of sweat forms at your hairline, for your bare body still radiated heat. 

The sudden air against your folds tickled, right while you’d been playing and feeling through and within them while lying atop the restricting cotton bedsheets, your other hand lost in the tangles of your own hair.

 “T-t-t….” you moan into the dimly lit room, imagining it’d been the hand of your brother’s best friend getting you close to the edge instead of your own. His name almost slips from your lips….

But the man himself storms into your room instead.

“Mr. Kim!” you screech, seeing him at your side at once. Quick to grab the pillow from beneath your hips and jerk the sheet below until it was free from its tidy dressing onto the mattress, you were unkemptly covered in seconds. “Get out!”

But Kim Taehyung still stood before you, head merely tilted downwards, waiting for you to properly wrap your bare body with the fabric. Tugging the thin sheet tightly at the back, you'd been oblivious to the fact that it outlined every curve and dip of your figure and truly, was all the more tantalizing to the man before you who'd been obviously failing his attempts not to steal glances at you through his periphery. It was unsurprising.

Taehyung had always been a menace. The boy never listened, never followed any rules except his own, and evidently never learned how to knock on another’s door. 

It was no secret to your family that you'd been smitten with Taehyung, the neighbor’s only grandson, since childhood, long before he grew to be your brother's most trusted friend. He'd been your friend first, after all, until the two of you had come of age and society deemed such a friendship inappropriate with youthful, hurried engagements, infatuations, and hormone-riddled courtships running amuck...

It proved to be a lifelong infatuation that followed you into womanhood, and though the days spent picking flowers, reading fairy tales, and ‘make-believe teatime’ were long behind you, his friendship with your brother still kept Taehyung in your life, and you were as thankful for it as the fond, playful memories of your youth.

The sheer power of your own feelings only made itself apparent when he’d went away to begin his apprenticeship in France with no promise of an engagement or any indication of reciprocated feelings. Despite an initial sorrow, the longing had turned into an ache in your chest that seemed impossible to ignore, only slightly remedied by his occasional letters and gifts. It was a short-lived hope that he could still be yours. His return as society’s most eligible, handsome, and accomplished bachelor only made it harder to confess - for everyone fell under Taehyung's spell.

With rumors of his charming reputation and dedicated work in France swirling through society and countless men and women organizing courting arrangements before he'd even arrived a month ago, you thought to make haste with your confession, but your half-written love letters were ultimately kept away in the drawers right behind where he'd stood now, with the postcards, letters, and gifts he'd sent you over that time. And you'd spent all those nights with him away just as you had tonight, imagining he'd been there, in your very room, bare as you'd been right beside you... And it had to have happened as such.  

“Oh, I apologize, Miss_____,” he says calmly, and the hint of a smirk appears on his face before he turns to face away from you, “But I’m here on orders of your dear mother. You’re, uhm, expected?”

Fuck. You lost track of time. 

“Should I tell her you’re not feeling well?” 

“No. No, I have to be there, sir. I’m expected to make at least one possible match tonight,” you panic, slithering into the undergarments you’d discarded by the bed earlier. Too hasty to feel shame, and, for the first time, thankful that women’s undergarments cover more than they ever should, you march to the wooden partition, only for your corset to be in Taehyung’s hands.

“Allow me to help,” he offers with a smile. “Your sisters are furious at your being late already, and well, I’m the only one who won’t give you an earful.”

You resign, stepping between Taehyung and the mirror and readying yourself into the corset. Looking at your reflection, you could see your figure and breasts through the sheer chemise with ease…. Practically as naked as you had been. And the man you’d who held your corset and your affection in his hands was staring at the same image with a blank expression on his face. 

“This is absolutely humiliating,” you groan, inhaling as he pulls the strings of your corset. Your breasts rise above, forming a perfect, heaving cleavage that remains there, perfectly shaped, as your torso is pulled back…. But only ever so slightly. This was new…. comfortable, and…. just as shapely and alluring. A miracle.

“….It fits well and isn’t as tight as when the girls do it… you have practice, I assume, tying women’s corsets?” you say, taking in your reflection and silently wondering if the man behind you stole another glimpse before he swiftly tied the knot at your back - or if you’d compared to the beauties he must’ve courted in Paris.

Tutting, he ignores the question. His fingers remain at your back, playing with the strings he’d just tied together before tracing your corset's hem. You don't push his hands away when he continues to trace the boning to where it lies below your breast, until his long, elegant fingers ghost your stomach and he pulls his hand away.

It’s only when he steps backward that you exhale comfortably, highly unusual in such a corset, and in the reflection, you see Taehyung grab the dress you were due to wear from its hook behind the partition that enclosed you. He hands it to you without a word from where he stood at your back and with his help, you quickly step into the silky dress, and he ties it up just the same. 

The color of the dress allowed your skin to shine as brightly as the rhinestones that adorned it, laid perfectly across your breasts and capsleeves…. Admiring them so, you remember the accompanying jewelry you’d prepared for the evening, a dainty set of earrings, which you put on in a millisecond, and its matching necklace.

“Allow me,” Taehyung says in a hush from behind you, tracing down your arm until he reaches the necklace in the palm of your hand. He brushes your hair to the side, the gentle graze of his fingertips sending chills down your spine as he works away at the lock. 

“There”, he says, close enough for you to feel the breath of the word at your nape.

Thankful his gaze was fixated there, chilling as it may be, you quickly attempt to hide your heavy breathing and the rise and fall of your chest by working away at your hair, braiding and pinning it in minutes until you looked like every other 'hopeful' bachelorette.

With a dazzling look and the event kicking off the society’s courting season… you were sure to catch the wild eyes of plenty of eligible bachelors, much to your chagrin. You were at an appropriate age to be wed, let alone courted…. but it was clear that you could never feel about a man what you felt for Taehyung. Every other dead-end meeting your mother had set up in the time he’d been away proved that fact and only frustrated her further, especially when you’d turned down both of Taehyung’s now-married cousins, the highly educated and well-off brothers Namjoon and Seokjin. ‘Artistic boys get you nowhere,’ she’d said, trying to secure your future despite having a soft spot for Taehyung herself. 

Now, in the mirror, you could see. Lust. Love. Trust. Humiliation. Your own sinful desire reflected back at you, along with Taehyung's striking side profile. Disregarding the mirror altogether, he had his head turned towards you, surely close enough to smell the rosy scent on your skin, on which you'd continuously felt his warm breathing.

“You look ravishing,” he finally mutters. “You looked beautiful even then.”

“Even then?” 

“Before France…” he whispers, toying with the silky fabric at your shoulders. “And tonight....before this…. Especially before this.”

You finally break your own gaze, turning to face him and allowing your nose to brush against his, noting his floral scent… daisies specifically… the kind you’d always play with…. With a hint of some French cologne… The person you always knew, and the man he came to be… 

“Any man would be lucky to dance with you.”

“It is not any man that I would wait for. It is not any man that I want…” you whisper, taking Taehyung’s hand and placing it on your waist. But his hand moves, quick to wrap around you and pull your body right against his.

“And what is it that you want so badly?”

Taehyung’s head tilts as his gaze fixates on a spot on your neck, biting at his lower lip and ready to do the same to your exposed skin. His lips meet your neck….

And a loud knock is heard on your door.

“_____, mother is waiting!” you hear through the door. “We’re all waiting. What’s taking you so long? Should I help with the corset?”

Oh… Right.

The two of you exhale against each other, Taehyung’s breath warmer than it had been…. even nicer. But he pulls away, ever so slightly.

“No! No, did that myself. A minute more,” you say, loud enough for your little sister to hear through the door.

“You did your own corset? Strange. Well, do you have any idea where Tae is? None of us can find him after mother sent him up here, and I want to show him how cutely I'd dressed up the teddy bear he got me!” your sister continues. “Mr. Kim Namjoon came looking for him too. Did he run off to the event ahead of us?”

“I don’t know,” you say, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze. “Now run off. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“I should go,” you say quietly, when you’d heard your sister’s footsteps fade. “I’ll see you there?”

Taehyung nods as he unwraps his arm from around your body, licking the lips you'd almost met.

You hear your name being called lowly from behind you just as you open your bedroom door. Turning only your head, you resist the urge to slam the door shut and kiss away the sudden anguish on Taehyung’s face.

“Save me a dance.”

“Two,” you reply, and he chuckles, walking towards you and taking your hand in his.

"I won't delay you further, my daisy. Tonight, I ask you for a dance, but soon... I hope you'll allow me to ask for this as well." Taehyung brings your hand up to his face, kissing your knuckles with his eyes closed, fluttering them open, and looking at you through his lashes with his lips still there. He doesn't wait for a reply. “Go.” 

[winxngasks]

Tattoo Headcanons!

Following after the previous piercing headcanons, finally here are my tattoo headcanons for the main cast! Like I mentioned on that post, similar to their civilian fashion posts these are just my general ideas and they don't take place at any specific point in time/season. But, you can consider these as all the ones they will have in the future, with many getting them done here-and-there throughout the seasons/their young adult years. Also, there are specific characters I chose to give multiple tattoos to for their own reasons(for example, a couple of them I just see really being into tattoos), but some characters have multiple tattoos simply because I just came up with multiple design ideas for them lol.

I hope you enjoy reading these! :3 If there are any other canon characters you guys want piercing and/or tattoo headcanons for, feel free to send them in an ask!

================================================

- The Winx Club

* Bloom: dragon tattoo on left hip, fiery nymph on back between the shoulder-blades, and daphne flowers on right forearm

* Stella: moon with sunflowers on right upper-arm and sun with moonflowers on left upper-arm, and triple goddess-moon symbol on the back of her neck

* Flora: family tree on her back down her spine, flowers on both sides of ribcage mirroring/matching each other, flowers on back of neck, her family's birth flowers on her right leg, and Helia's + her future children's birth flowers on her left leg

* Musa: giant lotus on back, two sleeves that spill onto the back(one of music notes, traditional Melodian flowers and birds, and the other of other random things she likes), and random ones all-over her legs

* Tecna: binary code on left forearm, geometric heart on back of the neck, motherboard details on right forearm, qr code(specifically spelled to change to whatever she currently likes) on the inside of the left upper-arm just above her elbow, and simplistic blackwork cybernetic design on side of right calf

* Layla: yin yang fish on her left collarbone near her shoulder, ocean wave on the side of her left foot, the word "freedom" turning into birds on the inside of her right wrist, an Androsian rune on the inside of her left wrist, and an outline of a dancer between her shoulder-blades

- The Trix

* Icy: snowflakes on her left hip, and a matching tattoo with Darcy and Stormy to represent their coven, on the back of her neck

* Darcy: delicate and minimalistic tattoos on her fingers and wrapping around her hands and wrists of occult symbols, a cauldron brewing up a poison-skull on the side of her left calf, an armband of the moon phases wrapping around her left forearm, a witch hat inside a crystal ball on her left upper-arm, purple crystals on her right upper-arm, moths on her right hip, and a matching tattoo with Icy and Stormy to represent their coven, on the back of her neck

* Stormy: storm clouds on both upper-arms, lightning starting from both ankles and shooting up the lower-legs, and a matching tattoo with Icy and Darcy to represent their coven, on the back of her neck

- The Specialists + Nabu

* Sky: Erakylon prayer of protection down the spine

* Brandon: sword tattoo going down almost the entire side of his right calf, and right sleeve of a forest/mountain scene with a silhouette of someone rock-climbing

* Helia: his favorite short poems on his back, outstretched bird wings above the poems, an origami bird on the left side of his ribcage, a quill writing "love and peace" underneath his origami bird, flowers Flora drew on his left forearm, and flowers his future children drew on his right forearm

* Riven: Red Fountain's motto across his shoulders on his back, a giant griffin taking up most of the rest of his back, two sleeves made with heavy blackwork; one with a wolf and skull, the other in a more Japanese-style with swirly elements and pops of red, a sword on the side of his left ribcage, and random ones over his legs and chest

* Timmy: a small blaster-gun on the inside of his right arm above his elbow

* Nabu: matching purple tattoos that span across the entire length of his forearms and onto his hands a little bit; they consist of a butterfly with swirly leaves and energy swirls, and wizard runes/glyphs on the side of his left calf

[angelaevangelion]

Hello lovelies! 💕

Here is my submission for @love-and-lore 's Winter Event!

I chose Nanami for this collab because he deserves all the happiness in the world. The theme is "hearth". The word symbolizes ones home and family evoking the feeling of warmth, love and security.

I hope I was able to capture that for Nanami.

Minors do not enter!!! Sfw/Fluff with just the right amount of sauciness ❤️‍🔥

Word Count : 900 words

Photos all sourced from pinterest

● The colder season is extra special to Nanami as it was around this time that he first met you. The cold weather, snowy roads and holiday décor that decorates the towns and cities all reminds him of that day when you changed his life forever.

● He likes to take you back to the place you met. A Café. Where he first laid eyes on you through that frosted front window. The holiday lights decorating the shop covered you in a yellow glow, painting you like a goddess. His feet moving before he could even think as he made his way across that icy street and walked into that little Café. The bell announced his entrance to the patrons inside drawing your attention to look away from your book where you sat. Warm drink in your hand, eyes landing on his ocean blue ones. Holding your gaze as he made his way to the counter. You watched, practically enamored as he scratched the back of his head and gave the worker his unprepared order. You sneaked a glance, admiring his side profile. Eyes just barely visible, hiding behind your book when suddenly he’s making his way towards you. “May I join you?” he asked you. His voice was confident but inside he was nervous as all hell. His heart hammering as he watched you give him a silent nod, mouth slightly parted with crumbs from your scone on your lip. The cuteness eases his heart just a little as he takes the empty seat before you, never having done something like this before and the rest is history.

● Nanami secretly looks forward to the colder seasons as you tend to be much more cuddly than your usual amount of affection he’s used to throughout the year. But you just can’t help it. He’s so warm and never gets cold. Unlike you with your icy feet. Doesn’t mind one bit that you latch yourself to him on the couch or on the bed but he forces you to put some socks on.

● Likes to lay in bed with you for as long as possible in the mornings looking out the window with you as the sun rises.

● He spends this season spoiling you a little extra. Buys you an overly excessive amount of flowers and has the entire apartment filled like a garden. You can’t do anything about it so you accept them.

● The colder weather means you tend to stay home more. Choosing to pick up coffee or boba and takeout before watching a movie at home and also trying to get him hooked on that show you’re so obsessed with. He covers you both with a heavy blanket on the couch letting you wrap yourself around him like you’re a puzzle peace.

● He loves to cook breakfast for you as often as possible. He’s honestly very good at making all your favorites.

● Nanami is not the type to just break out into a dance however if you happen to put on the right song he will take your hand gently and ask you for a dance right then and there in your living room. Pulls you in close as he takes the lead. His nose ghosting along your neck. His hand lifting your thigh to rest over his hip. His moves are so energetic and dominating over your frame. You expect him to kiss you while he has you tipped back, faces so close together but then he raises you back up and twirls you around before suddenly your back collides close with his chest and his hands are carefully outlining your form as you move your hips along with his, swaying to the beat. You’re stunned, body tingling because you had no idea that he even knew how to dance the tango.

● If you have to go into town he prefers to drive you whenever you need to go anywhere as the roads are much more dangerous. Feels safer if he’s the one driving you around for your errands or holiday shopping. Will absolutely carry all of your bags as you go from store to store.

● Comes home from work one day and sees an unfamiliar wreath hanging on his front door. Instantly he feels a warmth spread in his chest. He never had one of those growing up. Never bothered to buy one when he was living on his own. “Did you see the wreath I made us?” You ask excitedly as you watch him drop his work bag on the floor with a heavy thud. Watching as he wordlessly loosens his tie and raises up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. He looks so stern and deep in thought, you think maybe he had a bad day at work but suddenly he’s walking towards you with purpose. His expression practically melting as he looks to you and slams his lips on yours catching you by surprise as his hands grip you underneath your thighs and lifts you. His kisses practically become desperate. Blindly leading you both to your shared bedroom.

● Nanami doesn’t think he can wait any longer for the next holiday in the spring. Before morning, he’s gonna be pulling out the black little ring box hidden in the back of his dresser and getting down on one knee.

[imsosocold]

How I celebrate my birth week is by writing the execution of one of my favorite characters, triggering myself in the process. The most ‘me’ thing to do.  Hope you enjoy!

Manfred was set to be executed during sunrise.

When he’d be too groggy to think, when there’d be no time for visits or goodbyes.

At his request.

The sky shines of yellow light, familiar and warm.  The tulips around the prison have reopened their petals from the night, the golden chain trees swaying from the early morning breeze. 

Manfred liked yellow. It was his brother’s color.

He was wearing yellow, amidst the offensive orange he was forced to wear ( always a man in uniform). A plastic star hair clip outlined by green, a gift from his old wife. 

Of course, there’s still the golden bullet in his shoulder.

He wondered if they’d all be waiting for him. He wondered if anything would be waiting for him. 

He wishes he was scared. He wishes he was trembling and crying, begging for his life. He wishes he was mad, screaming and cursing everyone and everything. He wishes he was excited, for the hallucinations and nightmares and abuse to end, for the chance to see his loved ones again. He wishes he was repentant, finding peace and empathy he couldn’t find to have in life until its end.

Manfred felt nothing and he hated himself for it.

He was sick of feeling numb, of not feeling like a person.

Was he even a person?

Had he ever been one?

Birds sing amongst themselves as he makes the trek to the chamber ( they hadn’t allowed him to take his cane, of fucking course).

His friends, his oldest teachers. What he missed most about being free.

He hoped if he got reincarnated he would be a bird. A wren, perhaps. A splendid fairy, of course.

Just as quickly as he sees them ( so many colors, he had missed it in the gray that was both his physical and mental prison along with the sickly yellow light always surrounding them), they’re gone.

Everybody always leaves in the end.

Manfred can taste the oranges and sticky candy he had as his final meal, made up of memories of older, better times.

He doesn’t bother checking to see who’s in the crowd. He’s sick of searching for others and their approval. He can tell it's his largest audience yet though. 

He doesn’t recognize who is performing the execution but they’re incompetent. The guillotine still isn’t fully set up yet, though it won't be too long until it’s ready.

He has a couple minutes.

He knows Miles and Franziska aren’t here. They had both balked having heard the news, becoming even paler then when they had first visited him in prison, or maybe even more when they learned of the truth. Honestly, with how stringently they had followed in his footsteps, he was surprised they didn’t want him dead. 

Then again, if they really cared they would’ve fought more against it.

But if he had gotten his way, wouldn’t Miles have gone in his place?

No, they wouldn’t have killed him certainly, with how young he was,

Besides, he wouldn’t have allowed it.

Do you think they listen to you? 

He doesn’t know he doesn’t know he doesn’t know he doesn’t know- 

He never knows anything. Where his brother and wife disappeared to, why he took in Miles, why he shot that gun-

Gregory. Of course he’d be thinking about that romanticist in his final hour.

He knew like the heart in his chest that Gregory wouldn’t want this, despite everything.

He’d always been too gracious for his own good.

And how sickening that thought brings him comfort.

Not that anybody cares what victims want. Manfred was aware this execution was primarily a show, a way to make a grand example out of him, for him to become the sacrificial scapegoat of the entire justice system.

Just a weed amongst the flowers, don’t notice that all the soil is polluted! 

Well, no need to stress about that now, that’s a problem for whoever is left.

Besides, they’re all going into that soil in the end.

Along with the many who shared Manfred’s fate, those he’d personally condemned, those who may have committed no crime, who went cursing his name.

Lady Karma really did tie up all loose threads.

Manfred’s called up, he can’t really hear it though. Everything muffled like he’s underwater, always back to the tidepools.

He refuses to take his Buddhist charms off. 

His head still fits perfectly into the pillory.

He can’t see the audience anymore. 

He’s granted the view of endless flower fields instead, orange lilies pulled out unevenly and already dead.

Gregory’s favorite, of course.

He’s asked for his last words.

Manfred does not have any.

He has nothing left to give them.

Up. 

Down.

 Click. 

Finally free. 

No encore.

 No angry yelling, or cursing, or cheering.

Just a trembling silence. ***********************************************************************Those who witnessed the DL-6 Execution Sentence almost unanimously expressed they never expected to see Manfred so serene, especially in the face of death, considering his breakdown in court.  He didn’t struggle or gasp for breath. His expression didn’t even change. He was perfectly still, and died with a perfect smile.

A Von Karma to the end.

[rnp5324]

Kikyo Mikage............mhmhmhmmh

👂👂👂

ME WHEN I GET YOUUUU Anyway linked here is Kikyo Mikage on my Toy House! when the character is so obscure he just kinda becomes your oc ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 1. Kikyo does a lot of calligraphy work, which is his primary method of meditating. He uses a lot of plant life in his works, often using native flowers as his subjects. Kikyo loves nature, and for civilian clothing, he wears all sorts of colorful flowered shirts. His favorite seasons are Spring and Autumn. He doesn't like to sell his art, however, and instead uses them for rotating decorative pieces in his living spaces. 2. His line of work pertains largely to East Asia, and speaks a majority of languages in that region. However, in recent decades he's learned to speak English to communicate with foreign clients. This doesn't stop him from snitching with Logan using his native tongue tho; He's probably calling you an idiot when he whispers up to that stinky Canadian's ear like that. 3. While Logan and Kikyo are not in any means related by blood, one of my theories is that the pair of Mutants likely shared a common ancestor thousands of years ago, who would then go off to convergently evolve to explain why their Mutations are incredibly similar despite being so far apart. Jokingly, I like to say that Logan is the left brain and Kikyo is the right brain. 4. Kikyo was the first success of the Adamantium Bonding Process, being experimented on by the man who created the blueprints. Unlike Logan, he was not subjected to brainwashing to become a walking weapon, but his memory became fractured as a result of the trauma stemming from the incident. 5. If you've been following me for long enough, I've made it clear that Kikyo is a Gay Mutant. Although, he's closeted his sexuality as being a Mutant was already taboo enough in his culture. Despite this, he does not loathe what he is, but rather why society makes the bare human body to be viewed as this disgusting, dirty thing. Oh just wait until he starts making references to the Greek statues having the nude body as a symbol of power to them. Maybe that's why he keeps his bare chest open huh. 6. Kikyo and Logan have a real strong dynamic with each other, despite being polar opposites. Outside of a fondness for Japan, nature, and drinking, they definitely have a trauma bond over the Adamantium thing. They also have this ability to understand each other by just using their senses, like they don't even have to speak half the time, they just know what the other man is thinking. In battle, this link is particularly powerful! 7. Kikyo finds Logan attractive, not only for his equal strength, but for how different he is. He's hairy, unkempt, smelly, and cusses every other sentence, and he still finds that hot. He doesn't really want to fix Logan or make him worse, he likes him no matter what! ...The Bara manga he read must've done something to him. 8. "Kikyo" is the name of one Japan's seven autumn flowers, specifically the Chinese Bell Flower. A few of translations describe the name meaning "Endless Love", "Honesty", "Obedience", and "The return of a friend is desired". As for "Mikage", it refers to the likeness of a reflection in water or a shadow, where the outline is obvious yet the complete details remain unclear. 9. Kikyo speaks rather sophisticated, as he also studies philosophy + his haiku writing. However, that doesn't mean he can't speak casually or slouch when he's sitting, just only when he's not on the clock and has a sake bottle in his clutches; His favorite flavor is Plum, and he likes his drinks sweetened. 10. Kikyo lives a solitary lifestyle, and doesn't like to make friends or relationships unless he is close to the person. Due to this, in Japan, his earlier records of his existence has had rather mythical depictions, like a Yokai in the dead of the night who claimed the souls of the most evil, or a magical being of some kind. ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ OKAY GOING ON MY MINI-VACATION NOW BYE!!!!

[wanderingpages]

Would you be okay with you bf getting your name tattooed on him or something? Or like matching tattoos with him?

Id tattoo my name on tht mf myself 😤😤 lol nah I hate needles so matching tattoos are out of the question but he has some stuff already that’s like about me anyways lmao so more than okay

[seriowan]

candy bruises - wrecker x f!reader

main masterlist

⭒ summary: it doesn't take an army to cheer you up - just wrecker, a flower, and a dash of young love ⭒ word count: 3.1k ⭒ cw/tw: (18+) MINORS DNI slight angst in the beginning, fluff, smut: fingering, oral (f!receiving), praise ⭒ song recommendation: like real people do, hozier ; bury me, duendita ⭒ a/n: no, i totally didn't stay up an entire night writing this. i also didn't proofread so we're going in raw, folks. special shoutout to @eloquentmoon who hypes me up and deals with my sleepless hysteria 💀💕 love you breastie!!

-

The bluish-purple bruise around your wrist wasn’t permanent. 

   It was a bruise, and like every other bruise that stained your skin, it would fade.

   But the memory behind the bruise would not be so easily forgotten. Even after your skin would return to its normal hue, you would always feel the thick, meaty fingers that latched around your wrist. The tight squeeze that burst the blood vessels underneath the skin. The look on the Imperial’s face when he realized that you were not, in fact, just a meager girl chatting with him at the bar. 

   In that moment, when you felt as if your bones would shatter from the pressure of his squeeze; when your stomach ached as if you swallowed acid and spit it back up, you were so utterly afraid. 

   And it was this fear that nested in your gut. Lingering. Festering. Consuming every single thought since the mission ended. No matter how hard you tried to think of something else, you would always find your eyes drifting back down to the bruise, fingertips ghosting over the perfect silhouette of four fingers and a thumb.

   The boys and Omega were at the parlor, giving you a few hours of silence to mull over your close call in the safety of a dark, empty ship. The door was propped open, allowing a steady stream of cool air to blow through, drawing goosebumps to your bare legs. 

   An oversized GAR sweater and underwear wasn’t the ideal outfit for a cold night, but you didn’t bother changing. The cold chill was somewhat of a reminder that you were alive. Grounding, even if uncomfortable. 

   Your knees were drawn to your chest as you slouched down in the co-pilot’s seat, staring dazedly at your wrist while outlining the shape of the bruise. You lowered your hands in your lap at the sound of footsteps, turning your face towards the cockpit as if looking out the windows. Heavy boots echoed up the ramp before moving into the ship. You didn’t bother turning; the sweet smell of market-fresh Mantell mix was enough of a hint for you to guess who it was. 

   Giving the chair a gentle spin, Wrecker turned you towards him and crouched down to a knee. Lips curling in a shy smile, he removed his hand from his back, revealing a beautiful yellow flower pinched between his fingers. 

   “Found it on the way here,” he said in a shy mumble, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it’d maybe cheer you up a bit.” 

   You bit your quivering lip, lowering your feet down to the ground before leaning over to gently take the flower. It was beautiful, vibrant and colorful and so much like Wrecker. 

   Though you thought it to be impossible, Wrecker somehow managed to make you smile. 

   His face brightened instantly. Brushing a strand of hair from your face, he plucked the flower from your fingers and tucked it behind your ear. A fingertip curled underneath your chin, tipping your head up and tilting it as if to take in your beauty. 

   You flushed pink and pressed your lips together, hiding an absolutely flustered grin. When he arched his brow, quietly challenging you, you rolled your eyes and finally gave in, smiling as far as you could go until your cheeks hurt. 

   “There it is,” he sang teasingly, cupping the side of your face as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone. “There’s my favorite smile.” 

   You cupped his hand and kissed his palm before nestling your cheek into it. As you moved, your sleeve slipped down your arm, exposing the dark bruise that made yours and Wrecker’s smiles disappear. His brow furrowed, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. 

   You clamped your hand over your wrist and pulled it to your chest, turning your head away with a grimace.

   After a brief pause, Wrecker tenderly cupped the side of your face and turned it back towards him. 

   “You don’t have to feel bad,” he said softly, taking your hands in his own and resting them on your lap. Assurance sat heavily in his gaze as his thumbs grazed over your knuckles. “That Imperial knew somethin’ was up from the beginning. Baby, we all mess up sometimes. Kriff, I mess up all the time, but we still pull through, right? Besides, the mission’s not all that important.” 

   He took your hand, careful to avoid touching the bruise as he raised it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your inner wrist. 

   “You are.” 

   Wrecker offered you a shy smile that reached his eyes, creasing the corners ever so delicately. It’s the kind of smile that he reserves just for you — soft and gentle and loving in a way that you could never fathom. You couldn’t understand how kindhearted he could be after everything he went through — from the war to Crosshair’s absence, even to the guilt he carried from Bracca, nothing ever seemed to dismiss the warmth behind those gentle eyes. 

   It was a peculiar thing to call Wrecker gentle. To any other person, he was too loud; too destructive; too impulsive, and brash. His size was intimidating, threatening to those who stood on the other end of his blaster. His gravelly voice — a frightening weapon that could cause any opponent to second guess taking him on in a fight. 

   But to you, he was everything. Loving. Caring. Protective. Devoted. 

   His arms were your sanctuary. His kisses, your breath of life. His laughter may have been loud enough to rattle the walls, but it was also enough to make you bloom even on your darkest days. Wrecker was unique in every which way, but every vice, every virtue, all the cracks and blemishes and beautiful pieces… they were all him. 

   Every single piece of him that the universe had to offer was a piece of him that you loved. 

   In turn, he was there to love every single little piece of you. The parts of you that felt fear, anger, resentment. The piece of you that tried to hold back tears whenever he or his brothers got hurt. The pieces of you that were devoted to caring for Omega as if she was your own. He loved the laugh that you always tried to hide behind your hand and the embarrassing way your cheeks and ears would turn pink at every minor inconvenience. Your clumsiness and terrible jokes were his favorites. Enthusiastic stories and bursts of energy were like music to his ears. He adored the fact that you couldn’t sleep at night without kissing him once on the nose and forehead, insisting it was a good luck tradition. He memorized you like you were a poem, reading in between the lines to catch every emotion, every high and low. 

   All of the love, every shred of him that swelled with pride and joy when he looked at you, could be summed up with a single look; a single smile that made his eyes twinkle. 

   And by the gods did that smile make you fall in love with him all over again. 

   Your bruise became a thing of the past. Fear and anxiousness soothed down to comfort; a relief that you were no longer alone and with someone who understood. 

   Wrecker took your hands and stood, effortlessly pulling you to your feet. You couldn’t stop smiling as he smoothly spun you around and dipped you backward. The two of you settled into a gentle sway from side to side, holding one another’s gaze in the beautiful silence. He bent down, pressing his forehead to yours just to feel you relax completely in his arms. 

   You tilted your head, pressing the tip of your nose to his. 

   “You’re sneaky, y’know that?”

   “Not sure what you mean,” he said innocently, lips brushing against your own. After a heartbeat of silence, he spoke in a whisper. “I don’t like seeing you sad.” 

   You stopped dancing, pulling your head back just enough to see the worried expression on his face. His eyes searched yours, flickering back and forth before darting to your lips. He swallowed thickly and wet his lips — a simple action that sent a swarm of butterflies through your gut. 

   Without a word, you took a step back… and another… and another, pulling Wrecker by his hand until you reached the co-pilot’s seat. With a finger against his chest, you gently nudged him into the seat before crawling on his lap. Back against his chest, he wrapped a secure arm around your waist while the other settled on your thigh, drawing invisible hearts on your goosepimpled skin. 

   With a sigh, you laid your head on his shoulder and melted against his chest, surrendering yourself to the safety of his hold. Wrecker’s arm around your waist seemed to tighten when you grabbed his roaming hand and began to pull it closer towards your inner thigh. 

   “I’m not sad,” you quietly breathed, eyes fluttering shut at the pleased rumble that vibrated through his chest. “Not anymore. Not when you’re here with me… touching me…” 

   You guided his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater, biting your lip when the tip of his middle finger grazed your clothed pussy. Another swallow. Another sharp inhale, followed by a slow exhale. You felt his chest rise and fall underneath you; his breath, fanning across your neck as he bent his head and began to kiss the sensitive spot below your ear. 

   The second you pulled your hand away, he tightened his hold around your waist as if to permanently cement you to his chest. The other hand, hidden underneath your sweater, gently pushed aside your panties, teasing a finger through your folds.  

   You sucked in a shaky breath and wedged your bottom lip between your teeth, tilting your head to give Wrecker better access to your neck. His kisses became wet and open-mouthed, growing in their fervency as he started to gain momentum. When his fingers were greeted with a slick warmth, he smiled into your neck.

    “Looks like someone’s happy to see me.” 

   You were too invested in the single finger slowly curling around your clit to answer. It was as if he was purposefully avoiding any further stimulation to make room for the question, “You sure you want this?” 

   “Yes,” you whimpered, clenching the muscles in your thighs when his middle finger traveled down to your entrance. “Gods yes, Wrecker. J-Just please, please make me feel good-” 

   “Shhh.” He briefly sucked your neck before dragging his tongue over the growing lovebite. “You don’t have to beg, princess. I’ll give you whatever you want if you just ask.” 

   Fuck, you were growing lightheaded and he hadn’t even put a finger inside of you yet. Biting your lip, you arched your back, pleased to feel his arm tensing around your waist. Instinctive, like he was afraid you were going to leave. 

   You willed your taut muscles to relax before slowly slouching against his chest. Nuzzling his nose underneath your ear, he made himself comfortable by slinking further down the seat, giving him room to spread his legs. With a quick adjustment of your hips, you parted your thighs a bit wider, earning a deep-chested chuckle.

   “Good girl.” 

   Flutters wracked through your gut, shooting down to your cunt just as Wrecker slipped his finger into your warmth. A pleased yet relieved sigh fell from your lips. You rocked your head back, holding onto him with one arm while the other snaked under your shirt to grope your breast. Grinding his palm against your clit, Wrecker pump his finger in and out, burying it down to the knuckle and curling against your g-spot each time. One of Wrecker’s fingers was as wide as two of your own, filling you just enough to feel nothing but bliss. 

   The steady rub of his palm against your clit was tame at first. Sensual. Slow and steady, just enough to drag out your pleasure until you were dripping onto his armor. He kept lazily dragging his finger in and out of your folds before the ache between your thighs became a needy pulse. 

   While he was quick to work you open, drawing soft mewls and hitched breaths, his tongue continued laying its claim along your neck. He kissed, sucked, and bit to his heart’s content, muttering the soft praise, “Kriff, you taste so sweet,” under his breath.

   “I taste even better here,” you panted, swirling your fingertip around your clit. 

   Wrecker immediately paused, removing his finger from your cunt. 

   “Yeah?” 

   Without a second of hesitation, he took your hand in his own and swiped your finger through your soaked folds. You craned your neck, holding his intense gaze as he raised your slick-coated finger to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it, giving it a good and hard suck. Tongue swiveling around your digit, he let go with a pop, but not before licking a stripe from knuckle to fingertip. 

   You were stunned into silence, frozen with wide eyes and an open mouth. 

   “You’re right,” he smirked, cocking his head to the side while is wolfish gaze dragged down your body. “You taste like candy, mesh’la.” 

   It took every ounce of willpower to refrain from collapsing as you stood and traded one chair for the other. Wrecker broke eye contact with you when you pulled your sweater over your head and tossed it to the floor, dragging your panties down soon after. Sinking into the seat, you opened your legs and curled a finger. 

   “Come here, baby,” you purred. 

   Lust glossed over his face. Curtly wetting his lips, he slid from the chair to his knees and sat before you with eyes of burning adoration. Large, calloused hands caressed up your legs, marking a path that was followed by his lips. 

   A kiss on the ankle, tender and delicate. 

   “Pretty, just like that flower in your hair, right princess?”

   A kiss on your shin, lingering just long enough for him to breathe in the sweet smell of your skin. 

   “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

   A kiss on your knee, open-mouthed and wet — a sign of his barely-contained desire to ravage you. 

   "So karkin' beautiful."

   You couldn’t help but moan. 

   When he got to your thigh, the kisses became sharper, faster, sloppy and impatient. He nibbled on the skin, sucking just enough to leave a wet trail of cherry-red hickies that inched higher and higher, closer and closer towards your throbbing heat, teasing the skill of his tongue and the forceful suck of his lips.

   Massive hands engulfed your hips, nudging your ass farther down the seat. He took a good long look at your cunt before peppering kisses right around it.  Hooking your legs over his shoulders, Wrecker made sure to lock eyes with you while he lowered his head. He flashed you a smirk just before burrowing his face between your thighs, desperately pulling, kneading, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh of your thighs. 

   Tingles shot down your legs as his tongue flicked across your swollen clit without abandon. Sweat glistened all over your body, brought by the heat in your abdomen. You clenched the armrests with white knuckles, chest heaving as you panted for air. 

   “Just like that…” 

   “You’re doing good, baby…” 

   “Jus’ a little longer…” 

      With each flat drag of his tongue, every sharp suck to your clit, each long stripe licked to and fro across your heat, you felt the pressure begin to overflow. The muscles in your cunt clenched, bidding Wrecker’s tongue to slip into your heat. The knot tightened even harder as he fucked you with his tongue, driving you to whimpering moans and wails that echoed out the open door and into the empty hangar. 

   As blissful as it was for you, Wrecker looked just as disheveled kneeling between your thighs. Eyes shut, he ravaged you with satisfaction, eating you for his and your pleasure. He had a slight sway to his hips as if grinding against nothing would alleviate the delightful pressure brought on by the taste of your pussy. 

   Moaning into your cunt sent tingling vibrations straight to your clit. Your back arched and you let out a deep gasp when the muscles in your abdomen and thighs contracted. 

   As your orgasm inched towards its peak, Wrecker's need became insatiable. His hands were now permanently clenching your sides, forcing your writhing hips to stay still while your legs clenched around his head. A deep moan rumbled from his chest as you ground your clit against his tongue. 

   The second he gave your nub a teasing nibble, you were instantly elevated towards your soul-shattering orgasm. Your eyes clenched shut, mouth dropping open as you cried out Wrecker’s name. He mercilessly looped his arms around your thighs, greedily lapping up your release. Your trembling thighs tightened around his head, hips buckling while you rode out your orgasm on Wrecker’s tongue. 

   You sat back in the seat with an exasperated sigh, overcome with exhaustion. Wrecker’s chin and lips were glossy before he dragged his tongue across his lips, savoring your taste once more. With a smirk, he looped your legs around his waist and stood, bringing you up with him. 

   You were boneless. Light as a feather. Limp in his arms with a dazed smile on your face and hazy eyes of total bliss. Every muscle felt relaxed, every stressed bone in your body now weightless. Peace washed over you from head to toe, turning you into a ragdoll of post-sex pleasure and satisfaction.

   Wrecker chuckled, setting you down on the edge of his bunk before going to retrieve your sweater.  You slipped it on as soon as you could, saving yourself from the cold that turned your cheeks and nose pink. Wrecker was quick to clean your mess from the cockpit before stripping his armor and joining you in the bunk. He gently took the flower from your hair (which surprisingly hadn’t fallen off) and placed it beside his helmet on the floor.  

   Since the metal bed was wide enough for just one person, you made yourself comfortable on his chest, intertwining your legs together under the scratchy grey blanket. His fingertips slid underneath your sweater, caressing delicate lines between your shoulder blades. The simple gesture was soothing, drawing goosebumps and a fresh wave of fatigue. Heavy eyelids fluttered shut, though you struggled to keep them open. As you drifted in and out of sleep, Wrecker kissed your forehead, lips lingering. 

   “Mesh’la?” 

   “Hmm?” 

   “Love you. Bruises and all.” 

   Large arms wrapped around you and held you just a bit tighter than before. You smiled and shut your eyes, no longer thinking of the bruise, but all of the beautiful bruises that now painted your skin with memories of bliss and love. 

   As sleepy as you were, you sluggishly cupped his cheek and tilted your head, pressing your lips against his for the night’s final kiss. 

   “I love you too, Wrecker.” 

   And by the gods did you mean it. 

-

taglist? taglist! (+ friends/moots who might enjoy this)

@a-c-lee @eloquentmoon @frietiemeloen @misogirl828 @leotatombs @kimageddon @moonstrider9904 @emperor-palpaminty @neon-junkie @nahoney22

[faulty-writes]

can i have hc list of iida and fem!reader going to a dance together. and it’s like his reaction to her dress and her wanting to dance and it’s just a whole bunch of fluff please 💖

[ Ah yes, a request for my favorite baby Tenya. This sounds adorable. Let's do it. ]

It all started with an invitation, "I request your company at the Yuuei Annual Dance!" Tenya said, bowing respectfully while holding out a small but neatly decorated envelope.

The envelope itself housed a piece of paper outlining Tenya's intended schedule for the two of you including when he would be picking you up and listed activities for the two of you to engage in at the dance.

You knew that you wouldn't follow his list, but to know that he went through so much effort to ask you to the dance and ensure you would have a wonderful time was sweet.

After some convincing, you managed to pick out a dress that wasn't too low cut, showed off your figure, and would essentially make you stand out. "Isn't it so perfect!?" Ashido exclaimed as she grabbed your shoulders. "He won't be able to resist you!"

His eyes widened much like yours when the two of you finally saw each other. Tenya was dressed in a dark blue suit with his hair slicked back and glasses absent from his face. This allowed you to get a view of his beautiful red eyes which seemed to contrast the color of his suit.

Meanwhile, those eyes seemed busy tracing you up and down with a slightly ajar mouth. "I...f-forgive me," he stuttered, catching you off guard. "You look beautiful and I am quite honored to spend the evening with you," he stated.

Your flushed cheeks were concealed by the dim lighting in the room accompanied by soft music. Your eyes were focused on the dance floor and the few couples that were preoccupying it. You couldn't help but smile, hoping to share at least one dance with Tenya.

"I hope this corsage will not otherwise clash with your current outfit," he said. "Pardon my touch," he gently grasped your wrist in order to slip the corsage on. It seemed to sparkle and had the most beautifully decorated flowers you'd ever seen.

"I believe it would be wise to replenish ourselves at the provided snack table," Tenya insisted, guiding you away before you had the chance to ask him for a dance. But, you assumed this was part of the detailed schedule you hadn't bothered to read.

You were beginning to feel antsy when Tenya happened to spot his friends Izuku and Uraraka and since he had outlined an hour of social conversation into his schedule, you ended up being stuck at the snack table for longer than you intended.

"Y/n is quite exceptional in her heroics," Tenya mentioned, trying to include you in the conversation as he not only noticed how unhappy you looked but how you seemed to be fascinated by the dancefloor.

After excusing the two of you from his friends, he guided you to a quiet corner before addressing your behavior. "Are you feeling unwell? You were rather quiet despite my attempts to allow you to contribute to the conversation," he said, noting your frown.

You ended up blurting out that you had wanted to dance with him and that the previous conversation with his friends was taking up that time. "Forgive me..." he said, holding a hand to his chest. "I was not aware that was your intention and if you so desire, may I have this dance?" he asked, extending his hand out to you.

Though a bit hesitant and stubborn, you accepted and once he guided you to the dancefloor, you nuzzled into his chest causing his body to stiffen. "I...v-very well, I suppose a dance requires such closeness," he commented, although he was not used to such a thing, he nonetheless welcomed it.

Toward the end when everyone was leaving, you managed to convince Tenya for one last dance. "I do hope the evening has been pleasant for you," he said causing you to lift your head. "I hope you will accept my invitation next year as well," he said before hesitantly leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

[subhlibrary]

can u rec fics where harry is really slutty

this is basically all of my recs lmao but here’s some more <33

Your God Shaped Hole Tonight by objectlesson (8k)

Harry gets railed by five huge cocks at public play party.

Desperate for it by blankiehxrry (2k)

Harry doesn't believe it when the boys tell him that he's loud during sex. He asks Louis to prove it to him. Things might get out of hand. everything from this author tbh

Double the Fun by stretchmybones (1k)

Based on the photo of Harry in NYC wearing the blue bandana and pearl necklace simultaneously. My brain screamed "day collars" at me and then I wrote this lil fic.

A slut in my eyes by blankiehxrry (2k)

Harry is a Playboy bunny.

I have often prayed for an angel by orphan_account (2k)

the one in which Louis fucks Harry in the VS wings after he wears them onstage. i might’ve recced this before but idc it’s a fave

 Medicine by thisisafamilyshow_orisit (3k)

Another very self-indulgent fic featuring Harry with an oral fixation and Louis being Daddy af.

We Were Too Young by alurringmind (2k)

Louis expected that to satiate Harry. Much to his dismay, it did not. They ran late to the interview, as Harry decided to take his time showering and picking out clothes. During the interview, he kept talking over the other boys, avoiding questions, goofing off, and making countless sexual innuendos. Management chastised him several times, but it didn't stop there. In the dressing room after the interview, the boys were all sitting on the couch as Harry was wrestling Niall to the ground after ruining Liam's new shoes and fucking up Zayn's hair.

He was gonna get it.

FUCKING BRAT!!! by wannabebestseller (2k)

Louis is a busy CEO now and Harry wants attention so he becomes a monster brat.

When The Wolves Come Out by rosemarianthyme (1k)

It didn’t matter that Louis would never once pop a knot or that Harry’s slick was always artificial. When Harry was whining desperately against his neck and Louis was growling low in his chest he could only grab Harry’s hips and pant out 'Omega.'

You Love the Way I Ride It by stylinsexualxo (1k)

Its just a smutty one shot in which Louis gets bored and Harry gets horny on the way home.

ain't this what you came for (don't you wish you came) by sugarbabyharry (2k)

Harry is married and Louis happened to be his secret lover who's really good at fucking.

Black Flowers Blossom, Fearless on My Breath by cupcakentea (4k)

Louis and Harry shotgun in public, a very private moment ensues

i heard you had a slut mouth by lohoron (32k)

Louis fucks Harry once at a frat party and suddenly forgets how to act. i definitely recced this before but it’s my favorite smut fic ever sorry

Thank You, Daddy by fournipplesau (10k)

 Harry's hot, wet mouth is around him before Louis even has the chance to blink, and it feels so good, the icy sting of the frozen dessert disappearing as Harry's soft tongue laps it up. After Harry swallows, he pulls off the head of Louis' cock and then dips down to trail his tongue up the shaft, collecting the bits that dribbled down. "Yummy. Thank you, daddy." He hums pleasantly.

Or the one where Louis gets an idea, and Harry wears panties this whole series tbh

scream for air to breathe by toplinson (5k)

 harry gives louis five orgasms for his birthday

smile in slow motion by istajmaal (24k)

“It’s 2011, Niall. People can fuck their friends’ faces without it meaning anything more than that.”

or, Louis is Harry's dom and maybe also his soulmate

it's all for you, everything i do by moonshinelouis (2k)

Harry's needy, Louis plays bored.

Whoever, However by Brooklyn_Babylon (8k)

Louis could feel his heart rate pick up as he positioned the camera and Harry slowly stood up. They both knew what came next –– it had been clearly outlined in the advert Harry answered. The studio Louis worked for was filming a new series of camboy videos. Louis’ job was to make it look like amateur porn –– sweaty, sensual, dirty –– but well lit and edited. He was an artist, thank you very much.

Or: Louis has a much better day at work than he’d expected.

give it to me like i want it by orphan_account (1k)

Harry is overwhelmed by Louis's size and after being fucked by him, he just can't stop wanting to have him inside of him at every opportunity.