#this line: 'He’s so careful with you and the things you care for— gentle and gracious.' i love bc i think would also be so true abt him 🥹

[enderlovez]

It's Okay

Spencer Reid x BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: You and Spencer have to comfort a little girl after she finds her parents dead in her home, and your odd tactics work surprisingly well.

Content Warning: guns and violence, mentions of murder, blood, strange methods of calming a child down, dead bodies mentioned, broken glass, scared children

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The house is unnervingly silent.

Bloodstains and shards of broken glass litter the carpet around the bodies as you carefully step around them, you and Spencer moving cautiously towards the bedroom.

From inside comes the faint, muffled sound of sobbing. Through the cracked door you can see a little girl—Harper—curled up tightly in the corner, clutching a worn stuffed rabbit as though it's her only lifeline.

You glance at Spencer, your expression heavy. This is always the hardest part of the job: dealing with the survivors, especially ones this young and scared. Spencer offers you a faint nod, his own nerves masked by his calm demeanor.

You open the door slowly, kneeling down to meet Harper's line of sight. "Hey there," you say softly, careful not to startle her. "I'm Y/N, and this is Spencer. We're here to help you."

She doesn't answer, her tear-filled eyes darting between the two of you. Your chest tightens as her tiny frame trembled, her grip on the stuffed animal tightening further.

Spencer kneels beside you, his voice just as soft and measured as he addresses the young girl. "We promise, we're not gonna hurt you. We're here to keep you safe."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn't speak. You can practically feel the weight of her fear, and your usual comforting words don't seem enough right now. You briefly look at Spencer, then back at her—time to get a little creative.

You stand and cross the room, kneeling again when you're right in front of her.

Reaching for your holster, you carefully pull out your sidearm and hold it up in a non-threatening way, your finger nowhere near the trigger. "Do you know what this is, Harper?" you ask, your voice calm and steady.

Please don't backfire on me...

Her sobs pause for a moment, her wide eyes fixed on the gun. "A... a gun?" she whispers.

"That's right," you say, your tone light as if you're discussing her favorite toy. "It's my job to use this to protect people, to keep them safe. And right now, I'm here to keep you safe. Me and Floppy," you add with a smile, nodding toward her bunny.

Spencer glances at you, his eyebrows raises slightly in surprise, but he doesn't stop you. You know what you're doing—or at least you hope you do.

"Can I see it?" Harper asks hesitantly, her curiosity momentarily overpowering her fear.

"Not this one—it's very grown up," you say with a small chuckle, slipping the gun back into its holster. "But maybe someday, when you're older and want to be a hero too. For now, just know that it's here, and it'll keep you safe."

Harper blinks, her tears slowing as she processes your words in her little six year old brain. "You'd use it for me?"

"Absolutely," you say firmly without hesitation, leaning in a little closer. "You're really important to us, Harper. We're going to make sure nothing bad happens to you."

Spencer finally chimes in, appearing beside you, his voice gentle but slightly amused. "And I can vouch for Y/N. She's a very good shot."

The faintest ghost of a smile crosses Harper's face, and your shoulders relax slightly. "You're like superheroes," she says, her voice so quiet you would've missed it if you weren't paying so much attention.

"Exactly," you say, grinning. "Superheroes with badges and really big teamwork. And guess what? Superheroes are really good at making sure kids like you are okay."

Harper nods, her fingers loosening their death grip on Floppy. "Okay," she murmurs, edging closer to you, "but I'm still scared."

"That's okay too," you assure her. "Being scared just means you're brave enough to face things that are hard. And right now, you're doing and amazing job, Harper."

She hesitates, then leans forward slightly, her small frame still trembling but no longer frozen in fear. She wraps her little arms around your waist, face pressed into your stomach. You take her into your arm, tracing shapes on her back with your pointer finger.

You glance at Spencer, who's watching you with a mix of admiration and mild disbelief. He mouths, Really? The gun?

You shrug subtle in response, your lips quirking up.

After a moment, Harper looks up from your stomach, her eyes still red but clearer now. "Will you stay here?" she asks.

"We'll stay as long as you need us," you answer instantly, tone as warm and reassuring as you can make it. "You're not alone anymore, Harper. Are you tired?"

She nods, so you lift her up off the floor and lay her down on her bed, only laying beside her when she gently tugs on your shirt. She immediately snuggles up against you, clutching onto you with one of her death grips, but you don't care.

Her breathing starts to even out, and for the first time tonight, the tension in the room begins to lift.

When Morgan peeks into the room a few minutes later to check in, he raises an eyebrow at the sight of you—Spencer sitting at the end of the bed, you actually laid down with Harper's arms wrapped tightly around you, tight enough to actually make breathing a little difficult.

"You two good?" he asks, glancing between the three of you.

"Superheroes don't leave their missions unfinished," you reply with a wink, gently stroking Harper's hair, and Morgan shakes his head, muttering something about your methods as he leaves.

One Harper is finally asleep, Spencer leans towards you, his voice low. "You know, not every kid finds guns comforting."

"Worked on her, didn't it?" you whisper back, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Spencer rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. "Only you would use a weapon as a comfort object."

"She needed to feel like we can keep her safe," you reply, looking down at Harper's peaceful face, "and I think we nailed it."

He chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours for a brief moment. "You're not wrong." A brief pause. "Wait, how'd you know the rabbit's name?"

You silently gesture to a drawing on the wall, a little girl and a rabbit holding hands, Harper and Floppy written in blue crayon beneath it.

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ open arms !

↳ sam winchester x reader

it wasn’t that you didn’t feel things - you did. you just had years of practice keeping everything under control. life as a hunter didn’t exactly leave much room for emotional outbursts. when monsters were tearing through towns and lives were on the line, feelings had to take a back seat. the job came first, always.

sam had noticed it about you from the moment you joined him and dean. you were quiet, methodical, and calm in a way that bordered on eerie. even when you got hurt - a gash on your arm, a dislocated shoulder, or a nasty bruise - your reaction was always the same: a small wince followed by a flat, almost dismissive ouch before you patched yourself up and moved on. it wasn’t that you were unfriendly, just… hard to read. sam wasn’t used to people who didn’t wear their emotions on their sleeve, especially after spending his whole life with dean.

but that didn’t stop him from caring about you. in fact, it made him care more. he wanted to understand you, to know what went on behind your exterior. he could tell there was more to you, even if you didn’t let it show.

this week, though, sam could see the cracks starting to form. it had been a string of bad hunts, one after another, with barely enough time to breathe in between. you’d been thrown into a wall during the first one, narrowly avoiding a worse injury. then there was the nest of vamps that almost got the drop on you before sam stepped in. the worst, though, had been the spirit - a vengeful one that got under your skin in ways none of the others had. it had dragged up something personal, something you hadn’t shared with anyone. sam didn’t know what it was, but he’d seen the haunted look in your eyes when it taunted you, and it hadn’t gone away since.

“you okay?” sam asked for what felt like the tenth time that week. he was standing in the doorway to your room in the bunker, watching as you packed up your gear for the next hunt.

“i’m fine,” you said, your tone as flat as ever.

sam frowned. he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet lately. more than usual, i mean.”

you paused for a fraction of a second before zipping your duffel shut. “i said i’m fine, sam.”

he didn’t push, but he didn’t leave, either. “all right,” he said finally, his voice soft. “but if you ever want to talk… you know i’m here, right?”

you didn’t answer, just slung your bag over your shoulder and walked past him.

it all came to a head three days later. the hunt had gone sideways, as they so often did. the werewolf you’d been tracking turned out to have a partner, and things had gotten messy. dean had taken a nasty hit to the ribs, and you’d ended up pinned under the second werewolf before sam managed to kill it. by the time you made it back to the bunker, everyone was bruised, battered, and dead on their feet.

sam was the first to notice something was wrong. while dean grumbled his way to the kitchen for a beer, you stood frozen in the middle of the war room, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. sam’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his voice gentle.

“hey. you okay?”

that was all it took. the question, so simple and so sincere, broke something inside you. your shoulders sagged, and before you could stop them, tears started streaming down your face. you turned away, trying to hide it, but sam was already there, his hand resting lightly on your arm.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m fine,” you said automatically, but the words cracked and faltered as more tears fell. you shook your head, biting your lip to try and keep yourself together, but it was no use.

sam didn’t say anything, just guided you to the couch and sat you down. he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees as he looked up at you, his hazel eyes warm and steady.

“it’s okay,” he said quietly. “whatever it is, it’s okay. you don’t have to hold it all in.”

that was when it all came spilling out. the frustration, the exhaustion, the guilt - everything you’d been bottling up for weeks, maybe months. you told him about how the hunts were starting to weigh on you, how you felt like you were always one step away from failing, from losing someone you cared about. you told him about the spirit and the things it had said, how it had dredged up memories you’d spent years trying to bury.

sam listened to it all without interrupting, his expression soft and understanding. when you finally ran out of words, he reached up and gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“you’ve been carrying all of that by yourself?” he asked, his voice filled with quiet disbelief.

you shrugged, looking down at your hands. “it’s my job. it’s what we do.”

“you don’t have to do it alone,” sam said firmly. “you’ve got me. you’ve got dean. we’re a team, y/n. you don’t have to keep everything bottled up.”

his words hit you harder than you expected, and fresh tears welled up in your eyes. before you could stop yourself, you reached out, gripping the front of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. sam didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, comforting hug. his chin rested lightly on top of your head, and he murmured soothing words into your hair.

“you’re not alone, sweetheart,” he said again, his voice steady and reassuring. “i’ve got you.”

for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe it. you let yourself sink into sam’s embrace, his warmth and strength a balm to your frayed nerves. his hands moved in slow, comforting patterns across your back, and you felt the tension in your body start to ease, bit by bit.

“thanks, sam,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“anytime,” he replied, holding you a little tighter. “i mean it, y/n. anytime you need me, i’ll be here.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe that, too.

ᰔ sam winchester : @person-005, @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[lunajay33]

The Farmers Daughter

•🩷🪽🏹•

Summary: The group finds their way to the Greene families farm and the quiet daughter catches a certain archers attention in more ways than he’d like to admit

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Content: Age Gap, PinV, Praise, Sneaking around, Female receiving oral

•Masterlist•

The day the group came to the farm it felt like everything in me changed, they were nice and added a bit of drama to my families lives but they also helped us too

But when I laid eyes on Daryl, seeing him pull up infront of the house on his motorcycle ignited something deep in me that I’ve never felt before

They’ve been here a week already and it already felt like they were part of our family, daddy wasn’t too fond of them at first but he was slowly coming around

As the group went about their daily lives around their little camp I sat with Maggie cleaning some peaches we had just picked as I noticed Daryl walk by his eyes lingering on me the whole time he passed and it made my heart jolt and my legs weak

“He’s too old for you honey” Maggie said next to me as she nudged me with her arm breaking me out of the trance

I shrugged my shoulders not caring much for her input I’m 23 I’m not a child I can make my own decisions

I picked up a clean peach and made my way past the other towards his tent further out, not entirely sure what my plan was but I’m sick of this burning desire that aches for him

As I walk to his little camp I see him sat there around where he’d have fires at night, his eyes caught mine as he looked up at me

“What’re ya doin out here?” I wasn’t one for words much, ever since i was young I didn’t speak much but around him I wanted to tell him everything I was feeling

I bit into my peach and starting walking into the tree line as I wiggled a finger seductively for him to follow me

Not long after I hear his steps crunching leaves, my heart is hammer as I finally stop and lean back against a tree, as I look at him he’s mere inches away I can smell his godly scent that drives me crazy

“It’s dangerous tryna get me all to yerself out in the woods darlin” he groans as he grips my waist

“Maybe I like the danger” I whisper just wanting to taste his lips on mine

“Good ya do things ta me, never felt like this fer no one, just wanna take ya everywhere” his lips trail up my neck sending shivers down my spine

“Please Daryl, it hurts” he laughs

“Show me where Angel” I take his hand and lead it under my little skirt right to my soak panties hearing him groan

“Already wet and haven’t even done nothin”

“Help me” I grind against his hand as he starts rubbing against my clit

“Ya sure ya want this out in the woods?” He says between heated kisses

“I don’t care where I just need you Daryl, I wanna feel you”

“I’ll be gentle with ya”

He gets on his knees and drags down my little skirt as I threw my shirt to the side leaving me in only my tiny white panties with a pink bow on the front

He looks up at me like I hung the moon

“Fuck yer beautiful” he hooks his fingers in my panties and painful slowly pulls them down quickly his mouth is against me, his tongue flicking against my clit as his fingers gently pushed into me, the mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming but god so good

I run my hand through his hair gripping it as I try to contain my moans and whimpers

“So good oh my god, I’m gonna cum D” he groans and the vibrations send me over the edge as I scream out in bliss

“Taste so good peach” he praises as he whispers in my ear

“I’ve never felt that before” I huff exhausted

“Well I’ve got more in store for us, are ya gonna be a good girl and let me take ya here, right now, on the forest floor”

“Yes please I’ll be good”

He lifts me up and gently lays me down on the cool leaf covered earth and hovers over me

“Take it off” I whine as I push his vest back but he stiffens

“It’s okay if you don’t want to” I say gently and he nods as he slowly kisses me, the whole mood changed from rushed and rough to slow and meaningful

He pushes his pants and boxers down to his knees and leans back down over me, I feel him drag his dick up and down my folds making me crazy

“Please put it in” he grins as he slowly pushes in as I let out a whine, the stretch was exhilarating, he was all around me it was almost hard to focus

“God ya feel so good, ya doing okay” he sighs out as he finally bottoms out

“I’m okay, god we should’ve done this way before, it’s like you were made for me D” he was like an angel sent to me during these horrid times

His thrust start off slow but quickly get faster as he leans back and holds up my hips hitting the right spot to make me see stars

“Oh Daryl right there, oh god” his hand comes down and quickly rubs my clit and that’s when the damn bursts

“That’s its baby, squeeze me so tight, where do ya want me ta cum” he says hurried as he was near

“In me please I wanna feel all of it” soon his cum is deep in me warm as he slowly pulls out feeling that drip down my legs

“Mmmm look at ya yer mine now peach”

I finally had Daryl Dixon and I’m never letting him go

Everything Taglist: @bigbaldheadname @fluffy-dixon @imadisneyprincessiswear

[evolucious]

A Return of Care : Zayne x Reader

For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

pairing : zayne x reader (no gender specific terms are used to describe the reader)

prompt : Zayne is, once again, working past his limits and finds himself sick. With a bit of coaxing he just might take care himself. (aka, zayne is sick but he says "nuh uh")

genre : sfw, fluff, slice of life, zayne please get some sleep, sick fic

word count : 2,976

a/n : oh wow did i finally return after months with another Zayne one shot? I sure did.

The soft chime of the hospital’s automated door echoes in the hallway as you step into the familiar space, your footsteps light against the polished floor. The box of macarons cradled in your arms smells sweet, a gift you picked up on your way over, a small token of appreciation for Zayne. You know how much he loves these, especially after a long day of seeing patients.

As you approach the reception desk, Yvonne, the staff nurse, looks up from her station with a warm smile. She recognizes you instantly—you’re practically a regular here, visiting Zayne for your routine check-ups or just to chat when he has a free moment.

“Hello, Yvonne,” you greet her, returning the smile. “I’m here for my 7:00 PM with Doctor Zayne.”

“Right on time, as usual,” she replies, tapping a few keys on her console. “I’ll page him to let him know you’re here.”

You nod, leaning against the counter as she sends the message. The familiar hum of the station’s systems thrums in the background, a constant reminder of the vastness of space just beyond the walls. You glance around, noting the quietness of the evening shift. The lobby is calm, most patients already seen and gone, leaving behind an air of peacefulness.

Yvonne looks up, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Strange… he’s not responding.”

You raise an eyebrow. Zayne is usually so prompt, always ready to greet you with his warm smile and steady presence. “Maybe he’s in with another patient?”

Yvonne shakes her head, her frown deepening. “His last appointment ended a while ago. But I’m sure he’s just caught up with some paperwork. You can go ahead and see him—he won’t mind.”

You hesitate for a moment, but the familiarity of your relationship with Zayne pushes the doubt aside. “Alright, thanks!”

She waves you off with a reassuring smile, and you make your way down the corridor, the path to Zayne’s office as familiar as your own home. The door to his office is slightly ajar, a sliver of light cutting through the dim hallway. You knock gently, waiting for the usual, cheerful “Come in!” that always follows. But today, there’s only silence. 

Worry knots in your stomach as you push the door open wider. The first thing that hits you is the warmth—the room feels stuffier than usual, almost stifling. As you step inside, the source of your concern becomes all too clear.

Zayne is slumped in his office chair, head tipped back, eyes closed in what looks like a fitful sleep. His usually smooth brow is furrowed, lines of discomfort etched into his features. His skin has a slight sheen to it, and his usually neat appearance is disheveled. A small collection of cough drop wrappers is scattered across his desk, and the wastebasket beside it is filled with used tissues. The sight sends a jolt of worry through you.

“Doctor Zayne?” you call softly, moving closer. When he doesn’t stir, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Zayne?”

His eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment for him to focus on you. When he does, he tries to sit up straighter, “You’re here early,” he rasps, his voice rough and strained.

“I’m right on time, actually,” you reply, concern lacing your words as you take a glance at the clock on the wall beside him. 

Zayne rubs a hand over his face as he clears his throat. “Yes well, please take a seat. Let's get started with your check-up”. He says, swiveling his office chair to drag a stool beside his desk before gesturing for you to sit. 

Before you can protest, he’s already reaching for your chart, fumbling slightly as he tries to pull it out of the stack on his desk. You can see the strain in his movements, the way his hands tremble slightly as he flips through the papers. He’s clearly pushing himself, trying to go through the motions despite his obvious illness.

“Zayne–” you say, your voice soft but firm. Despite being a few feet away from you Zayne carries on as though he didn’t hear you. He pulls out his stethoscope, clearly intent on examining you despite his condition. “Let me just—”

“Zayne, stop.” you plead, gently pushing the stethoscope back down. “You’re always telling me to rest, to take care of myself, but you’re obviously not doing the same. I know you want to work but you’re in no shape to help others right now. Don’t be a hypocrite, Zayne. Please, let me take you home so you can get some rest.”

He hesitates before looking directly at you for the first time this evening, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the strength to argue but there’s a crack in his resolve, a momentary flicker of vulnerability and the weariness in his eyes makes your heart ache.

But then he shakes his head, grasping for excuses. “You must have rode your motorbike here. You cannot bring me home on that.”

“I walked,” you counter, undeterred. “And I even stopped to get macarons on the way.”

His eyes shift toward the box of macarons sitting on his desk, a brief flicker of interest breaking through his exhaustion. Zayne’s sweet tooth is one of the things you’ve always found endearing about him, and you can tell that the mention of his favorite treat has caught his attention.

You smile gently, teasing him just a little. “I was going to give them to you, but I don’t think you should have sugar given your current state.”

His stoic demeanor falters, a slight crack appearing in his resolve. It’s as if the macarons are the final straw, the deciding factor in this small battle of wills. He doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders sag and his eyes drop back to the desk tells you he’s given in.

He lets out a weary sigh and murmurs, “Just don’t drive my car the way you drive that bike.”

Your heart lifts with relief, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “No promises,” you let out a soft chuckle, glad to see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As soon as the apartment door closes behind you, Zayne seems to deflate, all the energy he had left draining away. He heads straight for the sofa, plopping down with a heavy sigh, his head resting against the back cushions. His eyes are half-closed, exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

“You know,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips, “your driving isn’t nearly as reckless as you like to pretend it is.”

You chuckle softly, sitting beside him on the sofa. “Only because I had precious cargo this time.”

He gives a small, appreciative hum, but it quickly dissolves into another cough. You watch him with concern as the fit passes, then reach out to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. His skin is still warm, but the tension in his body seems to have eased a little now that he’s home.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” you suggest, your voice gentle. “I’ll make you something warm to drink. Take a shower and we then can eat those macarons together when you’re feeling up to it.”

Zayne opens one eye, peering at you with a look that’s both amused and resigned. “Only if you promise not to hoard them all for yourself.”

You laugh, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the apartment. “Deal.”

As you rise to head to the kitchen, you glance back at him, knowing that you’ll do everything in your power to make sure he gets better—because, after all, Zayne is worth every bit of care and more.

The space is sleek and modern, with smooth countertops and neatly arranged appliances, but as you stand there, a realization hits you—you have no idea where anything is.

Your eyes scan the cabinets, trying to guess where Zayne might keep the tea. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the handle of a cupboard, unsure if it holds cups, plates, or something entirely unrelated. A small sigh escapes your lips as you inwardly curse your lack of foresight. How hard could it be to find a simple teapot in here?

Just as you’re about to open the wrong cabinet, you hear Zayne’s voice call out from the living room. “Top left, above the stove. Teapot’s in there. Tea’s in the drawer below.”

You freeze for a moment, slightly startled that he’d known exactly what you needed without even seeing you. It’s like he can read your mind—or maybe for some reason he’s just that familiar with how people fumble around in unfamiliar kitchens.

“Thanks!” you call back, relief flooding through you as you follow his instructions.

Sure enough, you find the teapot exactly where he said it would be, and the tea nestled in a drawer below. You set some water to boil, then rummage around for a mug, the task becoming easier now that you know where to look. As the water heats up, you glance back toward the living room, half-expecting Zayne to have dozed off again, but the faint sound of his cough reminds you that he’s still awake, though probably exhausted.

When the tea is ready, you carefully carry the steaming mug back to the living room. Zayne’s eyes open as you approach, a tired but grateful smile tugging at his lips. You hand him the mug, and he takes it with a murmured “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Zayne,” you reply with a mock-serious tone, sitting down beside him on the sofa. “Though I should let you know, I’m your attending physician now. I’ve learned from the very best as an intern, after all.”

Zayne arches an eyebrow at, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Oh? And what does this new ‘attending physician’ believe is the diagnosis?”

You adopt a serious expression, holding out your hand as if it were a clipboard. “Let’s see…” you say, pretending to write on your palm. “The diagnosis is… one very stubborn doctor who refuses to rest when he’s sick.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a sip of the tea. “I see. And what do you prescribe, Doctor?”

“I prescribe– a warm shower, cozy pajamas, and a strict order of rest. No exceptions.” you say firmly, finishing your fake note. 

Zayne’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he looks at you over the rim of the mug. “Sounds like a pretty detailed prescription. Are you sure it’s not too advanced for me?”

“Well,” you say, tapping your chin thoughtfully, “it’s a tough regimen, but I think you’ll manage. And if you don’t follow it, I might have to put you on an even stricter bedrest.”

Zayne chuckles again, the sound warm despite his rough voice. “You’re really getting into character, aren’t you?”

“Only because I had an excellent mentor,” you tease, giving him a playful nudge. “But seriously, Zayne– no more pushing yourself.”

For a moment, the teasing air between you fades, replaced by something softer, more earnest. Zayne looks at you, and though he doesn’t say anything, you can see the appreciation in his eyes. He knows you’re right, and even though he’s always been the one to take care of you, he’s beginning to let himself lean on you now.

There’s a vulnerability in his posture that tugs at your heartstrings, and without thinking, you reach out and gently place your hand on his forehead. His skin is warm beneath your touch, confirming what you already knew—he’s running a low fever.

Your hand drifts from his forehead to his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. “Zayne,” you murmur, your voice filled with concern, “I don’t like that you let yourself get like this”

Zayne’s eyes remain closed, but he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your hand in a gesture that’s both tender and weary. He lets out a low, affirming hum, a sound that’s as much a comfort to you as it is to him. For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

After a moment, he reaches up and takes your hand from his cheek, holding it gently as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes remain focused on your hand as he speaks, his voice soft but resolute. 

“Alright Doctor, I’ll follow your orders.”  he says, his tone carrying the weight of sincerity. “I promise.”

You smile at his words, knowing he means them, but also knowing that it might take some gentle reminders to make sure he follows through. “Good,” you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all I ask.” 

“Now, go take that shower. I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you when you’re done.” Zayne nods, setting the mug down on the coffee table before rising from the sofa. As he heads toward the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. It’s a role reversal, but one that feels right. Zayne has always been there for you, and now, it’s your turn to return the favor, even if it means coaxing him into taking care of himself with a bit of playful banter.

As the sound of the shower starts up, you settle back on the sofa, feeling content in the knowledge that Zayne is finally letting himself rest—and that you’re the one making sure he does.

After opening the window to let some fresh air into the apartment, you stand there for a moment, debating whether you should stay and make sure Zayne gets to bed. The idea of leaving him alone doesn’t sit well with you, but something tells you that he’ll be alright. He’s taken care of you so many times before—maybe it’s time to trust that he can do the same for himself.

Your gaze drifts to the box of macarons on the coffee table. A small smile tugs at your lips as you pick up the box, thinking about how something so simple could bring him a moment of joy even when he’s feeling so run down. You can’t resist leaving a little surprise for him, so you carefully take out one macaron and place it on the kitchen counter where he’ll easily find it when he emerges from his shower.

With the rest of the macarons in hand, you head toward the door, glancing back at the closed bathroom door one last time. The sound of running water is still steady as you slip out of the apartment, closing the door gently behind you. Your steps are light as you make your way down the hallway and you can’t help but wonder if Zayne has felt this way each time he’s cared for you—leaving quietly after making sure you were settled in, with a warm heart and a lingering sense of connection.

The cool night air greets you as you step outside, and you breathe in deeply, feeling refreshed and content. The box of macarons in your hand is a small reminder of the connection you share with Zayne, and the thought of him finding the one you left behind brings a smile to your face.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of your alarm buzzing beside your bed. You groan softly, rolling over in your sheets as you burrow deeper into their warmth, reluctant to leave the comfort they offer. You’d been so exhausted when you got home that you fell asleep almost immediately, and now, the weight of that sleep is still heavy on you.

For a moment, you lie there, savoring the last remnants of drowsiness before you start your day. It’s your morning ritual—waking slowly, checking your notifications, and letting the world come into focus at your own pace.

You reach for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and bringing it close as you scroll through the usual morning updates. Emails, a few messages, and then one that makes you pause. It’s from Zayne, sent last night after you’d already gone to bed.

With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, you open the message, feeling a small flutter in your chest as you wonder what he might have said.

The message from Zayne opens with a photo of the single macaron you left on his kitchen counter. Beneath the image is a teasing caption: “Is this how I’m rewarded for following doctor's orders?"

You can’t help but laugh softly as you read his message, imagining the expression that must have accompanied the text. You quickly type out a reply, your fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

“You know, most doctors give their patients one sticker on the way out for being good sports. What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?", a smirk playing on your lips as you hit send.

It doesn’t take long for his response to come through. "Touché. When can I schedule my next routine checkup? Maybe I can earn some more."

You grin at the thought, leaning back against your pillow, you type your reply.

"I’ll have to check my schedule, I’m suuuuuuuper busy Doctor." 

With that, you set your phone aside and stretch, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. Zayne’s message, as playful as it was, reassures you that he’s okay—and that he’s starting his recovery with a bit of lightheartedness, thanks to you.

It’s a good start to the day, and as you finally roll out of bed, you can’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction knowing that, this time, you were the one who got to take care of him

{pls dont repost i beg}

[lotsofsq]

THANK YOU SO MUCH I COULD CRY i was grinning wider with every word oh my gosh thank you so much i’m so so happy to hear about you noticing, and finding joy in the little things i add!!

id love to tell you about my process! i love rambling about why i do certain stuff because sometimes i don’t even realize until after it’s down! often i have a feeling of a picture in my head and i just need to think of how to capture it

overall i try to do what feeeels right, but i often focus the most on differentiating eyes, i like for my designs to have distinct eyes and i was really able to do that with TMBS.

also with the colors they are a perfect set like the minimum pack of crayons

for reynie: i really wanted him to look gentle but not completely round, he’s very dependable so that leans more toward square shapes. reynie has always had a very specific look in my head because for years i pictured him looking like one of my childhood friends. his eyes both, look more asian, and lower eyelids often make a character appear more calm. the clovers are a little indicator i put often to show like?? good will almost? idk how to describe it but like when you can see the genuineness of someone.

for sticky: he’s such a nervous ball of energy and so sweet, he has this really round visual energy his eyes really mirror the shape of his glasses, big open eyes can be nervous or observant, in this case both! sticky has always been that deep blue color in my head, deep blue is a great indicator of vastness; the ocean, the night sky. fits well. yes little nervous sweats.

for constance: the epitome of angry squishy little kid, the almost white hair actually makes her look younger, since most people’s hair darkens as they age. i love her little tiny eyes, it makes her look like a stuffed animal. and i feel like the hair clip shows there are people who care enough to put it there. the little jagged lines always make me think of glaring and intensity

for kate: out of all the kids her eyes are the most realistic, she has a true eyelid and a natural shape to her eyes. i’m not entirely sure why i like to do that but i might be because i find her very wise, old soul kind of deal. i tried to make her look slightly older than the boys and i just adore her sunny disposition and humor, it’s so important for her personality. of course hee symbol is little rays of light coming off of her.

all these answers are kinda all why i did things instead of how, if you want that for anything i’d love to tell you if i can but i’m not sure that will be very interesting its a lot of trying until it feels right.

-

once again thank you so so much for this i hope you enjoy my response! it really touches my heart to hear people try to pick apart my art it makes me so happy

THE MYSTERIOUS BENEDICT SOCIETY!!!!!!

i’ll be posting most of my stuff chronologically so enjoy my journey

[ID copies from alt text: four headshots of the four society members: reynie is smiling calmly, his hair is sweeping left over his forehead. he is wearing a green sweater vest with a line of little sprouts on it over a button down. sticky has a nervous expression, he is fully bald. he is wearing a blue sweater over a button down. constance looks peeved and has wispy blonde hair with red hair clips. she is wearing a red coat over a yellow shirt. kate is excited and winking, her gold blonde hair is in a high ponytail. she is in a red and white striped t-shirt. all 4 have emphasized lines around them in their respective colors: reynie has green flowers, sticky has blue sweat beads, constance has red jagged lines, and kate has yellow radial lines around her. ]

[dixonsbrat]

── .✦  𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 ┆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; daryl gets injured on a run and can’t fathom why you’re so worried about him

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; ‘unspoken thing’ type of relationship, mentions of injuries, blood, angst if you squint, daryl being stubborn

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; this man is so stubborn and unaware of how loved he is it makes me so freaking mad sometimes

“‘m fine,” daryl states the second he walks out of the infirmary and sees you, knowing that you would’ve been worrying about him even if all he had sustained was a mere scratch. a part of him looked relieved to see you, but he also knew you were going to be pissed at him for being so reckless.

“no, you’re not,” you shake your head as you meet his side. “denise said you were close to hitting an artery.”

you had been pacing back and forth since the moment he and aaron had returned from their recruitment trip and you saw the blood dripping down his arm. in this world, even the smallest of injuries could turn into something catastrophic without the right medicine and treatment. so seeing him the way that he was had embedded a fear in you, that you didn’t know you had, deep inside your chest.

“denise is exaggeratin’,” he responds, his voice gruff and hoarse to cover up the way his heart fluttered as he saw the concern in your eyes. he hated seeing you like this, knowing that he was the cause of it. he knew you worried about him every time he left alexandria but he didn’t want it to consume you. “was just a scratch.”

“really?” your shoulders slump with disbelief of how nonchalant he was being about it.

“would ya relax?” he says after a few moments of silence, his voice stern yet soft. he places a gentle hand against your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone, “‘m alright. you’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’.”

you place your hand over his, holding his gaze as you stare up into his blue eyes, "it's not nothing, daryl. it could've been your life on the line."

his heart rate increases rapidly as he stared into your eyes, unable to look away as you gazed up at him. your words and touch causing him to soften as part of the tough persona he constantly displayed in front of others melts away.

“‘m’not dead. ‘s just a scratch. ‘s nothin’ i haven’t dealt with before.” he shakes his head, trying his best to reassure you and resolve the worry that was now causing a crease on your forehead.

“how can you be so calm about this? you could’ve seriously gotten hurt or worse!” you retort, your head lulling back out of frustration. you hated how careless he could be when it came to his own wellbeing.

daryl’s brows furrow at your words now, his fingers gently gripping your chin to force your head back down, so your eyes met his once more. he lets out an exasperated breath through his nostrils, his stare hardening.

“how many times do i have to say ‘m fine?” he replies, his voice sharp. “ya don’t need ta worry.”

you couldn't believe the audacity of him telling you that you didn't need to worry. as if you could just switch it off with a snap of your fingers. you could never understand why he was so careless about his own life, how he could constantly throw himself in danger for the sake of very little.

you turn away from him for a second, your fingers pinching at the bridge of your nose as you let out a deep exhale. you didn't know what to do to make him see just how important he and his life were to you.

he watches you with a slight frown, his irritation slowly melting into regret. he knew you well enough to know that you were frustrated, he could see it in the way your shoulders and jaw were tensing as you turned away from him.

“why can’t you see how valuable and loved you are? why do i have to break myself down just to prove to you how much i care?” you turn back to him, tears now pricking your eyes. “every time you leave alexandria i worry that i’ll never see you again, and the thought of something happening to you while you’re out there-” you stop, your emotions getting the better of you.

he sees the tears welling in your eyes and the look on your face and his heart drops. it was one that he had never witnessed before. you looked so vulnerable, your eyes glistening with unshed tears and your shoulders sloping with defeat. it wasn’t often that you had cried in front of him, but the look of disappointment mixed with hurt and frustration as you struggled to find the words was killing him.

he slowly steps closer to you, his uninjured hand coming to rest on your hip as his eyes soften. he was frustrated at first, unable to understand why his actions had such an impact on you, but seeing you like this made him realise how much he truly cared for you and how much you cared for him.

he swallows, his throat suddenly feeling thick and dry, trying to steady himself before he speaks, “‘m sorry m’puttin this on you. i know ya worry, i just…” he pauses for a moment as he searches for what to say, “…didn’t think it was worth worryin’ about.”

you involuntarily move closer, as if your body knew what you needed before you did, and you rest your forehead against his chin. you knew you were being over dramatic and that daryl could take care of himself, but the images of him being hurt had burnt so deeply into your head.

“just need you safe,” you say, closing your eyes against him.

he closes his eyes with you, feeling you relax against him as you spoke. he brings his hand up from your hip to the small of your back, gently rubbing his thumb against you through the thin material of your shirt, silently reassuring you.

“m’not goin’ anywhere,” he says, his other hand coming up to gently run through your hair. he slowly wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest to feel the steady, yet fast, thump of his heartbeat. “‘m always gonna come back.”

[ethereal-blossom]

Ikevil in an amusement park!

Includes general headcanons and romantic ones at the end.

General headcanons:

- Victor is the parent. He carries the heaviest and biggest backpack which is truly the emergency kit. Harry is showing withdrawal symptoms due to lack of sugar? Elbert forgot to put on sunscreen and is now at risk of looking like a walking lobster? You forgot your water bottle? No worries, Victor anticipated everything! He knows his beloved children so well.

- He walks with the map as well and if you split into groups, he becomes the one who you need to call if something happens. Also the one who plans where and when to meet, mostly at eating places so you can refill your stomaches together.

- William is the backup parent. He enjoys to mostly silently observe and is quick to notice the things like Harry being low on sugar and Elbert having forgotten to put on sunscreen. If you split up and it's time to meet but a group isn't back yet, his guesses of why are extremely accurate. Like hm, the ride Elbert and Alfons went to is fairly popular so the line must have been long, and isn't there a souvenir shop on its way here? Elbie must have gotten distracted by it.

- Elbert refuses to go in the big roller-coasters. He goes into visual focused rides and will often be seen in the souvenir stores. Does not care about the ridiculously expensive price tags and tires himself out by carrying so much bought stuff. If you happen to be someone who doesn't like roller coasters that much, Elbert is the one to hang around with and he'll surely buy you any souvenir you want.

- Alfons is everywhere and nowhere. One moment he is with Elbie telling him that the mouse ears aren't beautiful but overrated money grabbers, then he is joining Liam in thrilling roller coasters, and at times even Will shrugs when asked where he thinks Al is. Seriously, he has Victor panicking when it's time to go home and Al is nowhere to be found.

- Victor will bother/manipulate/pester/whatever works/does it really matter when you're that attractive Roger into using his ability to see if he can hear his beloved boys and robin from time to time.

- If you like to ride the wildest roller coasters, Liam is your guy. This man has no fear; only curiosity begged to be satisfied. Might actually get high on it and is tempted to use his ability to cut the line. It's his mission to ride the fastest and highest roller coasters this park has to offer.

- Some of the crown members are great at making friends in lines! Liam's enthusiasm is contagious and he's so easy to love. With his charisma and excitement, he easily starts a conversation which is needed with such long lines. Ellis is very gentle and caring, so when he sees someone needs help in the line or appears nervous he does what he can. Victor is a social butterfly with a joyful grin so that man will definitely start small talk. All three would entertain the kids who are in front or behind them if it's a long line, especially when the kids are getting annoying and the parents look tired. Victor is immediately in his element by performing magic tricks, Ellis would play with them, and Liam would start making the kids laugh with his acting. But this makes them immediately beloved by the people around them.

- Imagine Jude in the line with annoying kids who are bumping into him... The only reason he's there is because Victor promised him a good sum of money and he's either getting convinced by Ellis or you to go into rides or it was part of the deal with Victor, and then these kids keep bumping into his back. Doesn't yell at the children but sends a few nasty glances and let out some damn loud tch's directed to the parents who are too busy with their phones before he snaps. Will demand payment from the parents as compensation for this public disturbance.

- William will randomly walk up to people he sees are surpressing their desires to try a ride. Free Willam therapy sessions don't pause for no amusement park.

- Roger isn't interested in the visual rides; he doesn't find them exciting so you'll find him in roller coasters a lot. But also is a little bit like Victor and makes sure everyone stays hydrated and gets to rest when they need to. Like oh I see, the lil' lady wants to go to the next roller coaster even though her legs hurt from standing too long. He threatens to throw you over his shoulder if you don't comply, which he actually does and then sits you on a bench to treat you with a snack despite being a disobedient girl.

- Ellis, Victor, and William are everywhere too. They are in for every ride!

- Harry is the chillest. He mostly follows Liam and makes sure the curious cat takes a break every now and then. He doesn't join Liam in the extreme rides but will grab his Sherlock book and read while waiting. Will ask for a lot of sit breaks.

Romantical headcanons:

- William could not care less what rides you two are riding as long as you want to be in them. He has a fantastic time discovering which rides you prefer and will absolutely convince you to go into ones you want to but are also scared of. Same with finding snacks and good places to eat. It's a wonderful experience where you get to know each other even better, making this amusement trip feel weirdly intimate. I can see Will having a content and happy smile on for the entire day, and when you walk through the park together, I don't think he has his arm wrapped around you but he does have his hand on your farthest shoulder in a way that feels loving, supportive, and encouraging. When buying matching accessories, you both choose each an item after a minute of "What do you want, my little robin?" "I want what you want! " "Oh, what a coincidence. I want what you want" "... Well, I want what you want me to want-"

- It's so chill being with Harry. There are some rides that secretly excite him but he got to say, this amusement park is more amusing with you next to him. He'll complain sometimes about how you're dragging him through the park, but when you ask if that's really how he feels he'll say he doesn't mind (translation: he enjoys it). Whenever you see a food place and it sells something sweet, you two are on it! "Let's get matching accessoires!" "Whatever, if that's what you want" (translation: he's flustered). Harry would like to simply hold your hand and stroll through the park, talking about everything and nothing. So simple but so serene. On the way home you'll ask him how it was to explore the amusement park together to which he answers, "not bad." (translation: he ducking loved it.)

- It really doesn't matter how curious about a roller coaster Liam is, if you don't join him this clingy cat will not go in it either. Being around you calms down his curiosity for thrill a lot. So don't worry if you're not into thrill because there is still so much to be curious about! You'll not be bored for a single second and because of that, his touches are very versatile. One time he'll hold your hand to excitedly lead you to a cool souvenir shop, then he'll wrap his arm around your shoulders as you walk through the park, your waist when it's crowded, your arm during rides... Almost the entirety of your upper body will have been touched by him. Very much in a similar boat as Will when getting matches accessoires so you both choose an item each :)

- Nobody takes matching accessoires as seriously as Elbert. You'll have visited every. single. accessoire store at the end of the day. Your eyes could have lingered on a wristband for one second and your man goes "Do you think that's beautiful? It'll look beautiful on you. I will buy it-" It's so much worse when Alfons makes his cameo cause he'll point at anything and be like "now this, my dear Elbie, this is beautiful" all to tease you. Elbert enjoys going into the visual rides with you! And I bet you could convince him to go into the tamer roller coasters. Has a hand on your lower back the entire time (at one point you guys had too many bags and Elbert was ready to leave three behind purely so he could keep touching you).

- Now Alfons is turning this into a freaking game. He makes you chase him through the entire park, slightly out of your reach but you know he's there. Why he enjoys you stubbornly following him throughout the park? He doesn't even have a clear answer himself... or so he likes to think. But, Al leads you to all places he thinks you will enjoy and he always stay at a place long enough for you to find him and enjoy the ride, shop, café, or whatever he thought you'd like together. During the times Alfons and you walk side by side he'll place his hand on your back which will slowly move lower and lower. Another man who pretents like he doesn't care about matching accesoires but once he wears it he'll randomly touch it with a hard-to-read expression (cat pretending like he's not THAT attached to his owner). Guys I swear this is not me but I'm 99,9% Al will try to finger you in a ride at least once even if it's only to get a reaction out of you no but if a ride scares you he'll definitely try to distract you in whatever way works.

- "Is this ride going to be scary?" "I promise it's not, Lil lady." Spoiler alert: it was scary and now Roger is saying how cute you look with teary eyes. He's not a fan of visual rides but will go into them for you and you know what, turns out he quite likes them because of your reactions and how easy it is to touch your thighs. The type to put his arm around or behind you in roller coasters! He definitely checks up on your heartbeat regularly to see how nervous you are for a roller coaster. If he thinks you got peer pressured into riding a roller coaster he'll get you out of there. Now, Roger's hand is either in your back pocket, on your ass, your hips, or your lower back. Roger didn't think he'd be into matching accessoires but again finds himself quite liking something because it's you. Love makes things glitter.

- Jude will be like "tch, look at how these people are bunched up together and... Lil' birdie where do ya think ya standin'?" *Proceeds to wrap an arm around your hips to pull you into him*. Jude only goes into a ride when you go into it. Literally, he doesn't leave you alone and will follow you everywhere except the bathrooms. You're the only who makes this trip bearable. If another crown member tries to sit next to you in a ride, let alone a stranger, Jude is like I ain't on this ride for nothing except my woman. Move or give me everythin' that's on ya bank account. Especially if it's Victor that bill will be through the roof. Also another man who pretends to not care about matching accessoires but funny how you'd have to rip it off of his dead body. Jude would walk with his hand on your lower back and maybe on your hips or waist.

- Ellis will let you take the lead and often ask what you want to do next. As long as he gets to hold your hand, he's happy. Really, Ellis is going to hold your hand the entire time. Especially when it gets crowded you feel his grip tighten. You two have the biggest fun trying all of the food and you immediately make recommendations for the other guys. "I want what you want" (matching accessories version part 3). Please he'd look so cute in matching accessoires, having a mischievous smile on his face cause he definitely sees this as a way for other people to see you belong together. He feels slightly bad for letting his selfishness get the better of him but that melts like snow in the sun when he sees how happy you are. Also secretly enjoys when you get scared in a ride because he loves it makes you clingy and depending on him, and it's an excuse to hold you tight in his arms.

- If Victor doesn't have an arm around your shoulders he's holding your hand and you'll be skipping to the next ride. He's also very flexible in what you'll be doing but he does like the occasional thrill of a roller coaster! But your comfort is his number one priority. Victor loves to see you so carefree with a child-like spark in your eyes as you explore the park together and he'll do anything to protect it. One time you accidentally bumped into someone and when they turned around annoyed and ready to shoot with words, Victor went "whoopsie daisy! I am so clumsy. Please forgive me." And when you want to tell him he shouldn't have, Victor picks you up and twirls you around, kissing you on the nose and ask what you should do next, unless you have something naughty in mind...? What a dirty mind his darling has, he's obviously talking about eating snacks that'll make your teeth rot with the amount of sugar that's in it. Loves the idea of matching accesoires so much that he can't choose and approaches you with 12 different items; it's a live-or-die situation for him. He dealt with loneliness before he met you and so wearing matching accesoires is a physical sign you're connected. Plus, he loves giving and could not care less about the price tag.

[miabbh]

Princess Skin 💈

husband!Baekhyun x reader

Synopsis: that your husband is a starved man when the matter is you, nothing new; sometimes, though, you need to remind him that you have a princess skin and it's sensitive & he needs to shave. it's okay to dely his morning banquet, you try to tell him; it actually is, he conforms, you're there to help.

Genre: playfull banter, slice of life, quite ⚠⚠ explicit smut ⚠⚠ (oral sex–fem!receiving) | ~2,5k words

A low, hoarse sigh escapes Baekhyun’s lips, resonating from deep within his chest, filling the quiet intimacy of the bathroom. The sound lingers, blending into the golden warmth of the wall lights as you gently tilt his head to the side. 

He obeys without hesitation, his eyes fluttering shut, his hands resting firmly on your thighs. His grip is steady, grounding, hungry, fingers curling slightly over the hem of your oversized T-shirt—the one he used to wear but now lives permanently on your side of the wardrobe and makes a familiar sense of pride burn on his chest.

With careful precision, you trace the line of his jaw with the razor, your movement slow and deliberate as the white layer disappears to give way to his beautiful skin tone. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and the faint scratch of stubble yields easily to the blade in a dry sound.

You focus, the rhythm of the task drawing you in so you don't cut him. Or at least, you try. Maybe, you do focus—on the closeness of his body, his breath soft against your wrist, the way the tips of his fingers play with your skin, that threatens to distract you.

You take the blade to the basin full of water on your left, leaving the foam and the so short dark hairs floating in it. You can feel his eyes on you, following each movement with his gaze as your breasts gently sway beneath the fabric. The height difference is not significant, even with you sitting on the counter, but your gaze is slightly above his as you side eye him, arched eyebrow. 

Those dark brown chocolate eyes melt slowly as a smirk grows on his lips, the fire beneath them burning slow, low and that oh so well pretended good behavior of his.

It had all started that morning, not long before this moment, when you were stirred awake by the faint, bristling sensation of his stubble against your neck. The warmth of him pressed against your back was the first thing you registered—the solid weight of his chest rising and falling in the slightly accelerated rhythm you've learned to know too well its meaning. Half-asleep, you instinctively raised a hand to his face, your fingers brushing over the rough texture of his unshaven jaw hidden in the tangle of your hair.

A warm kiss pressed against your neck, right where the steady pulse of blood thrummed beneath your skin. His lips lingered, soft yet deliberate, coaxing your breath to hitch as the warmth of his mouth sent a gentle shiver cascading down your spine.

The sheets rustled as he shifted beside you before the soft moan leave your lips fully, the faint weight of them pulling away leaving you more exposed to the cool morning air.

You stirred, your body half-claimed by sleep, yet acutely aware of him. His hand slid along your thigh, the touch slow and unhurried, a silent request you couldn’t deny. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he repositioned himself between your thighs, his movements purposeful but tender. Fingers brushed against the fabric of your shirt, the hem riding higher with every inch he claimed until his right hand cupped your breast, squeezing it with the whole palm.

Your back arched against the touch as you looked for a more comfortable position, already feeling a pleasant tingling in your stomach, your breathing quickening in anticipation, too drowned to him, to his touch, to all the things you knew he was caplable of doing and still surprised you every single time.

Your mind, intoxicated by expectation and not fully awakened sleep, took a while to register the muffled words coming from under the sheets. Before you could think to ask, the pressure from your panties on your hip bone as he pulled them to the side made you open your close your eyes again.

The tips of his fingers moved ever so slightly over your already wet clit, a gasp getting stuck in your throat. You could already imagine it—his face focused, his eyes wide and bright as he licked his soft pink lips, preparing to devour a feast. And oh my- you loved seeing him so hopelessly starved of you first thing in the morning.

You fought the instinct to close your legs when his index and middle finger slid between yours wet folds, caught by his teasing. Although, the soft satisfied sound that left your lips quickly turned into one of frustration, his fingers no longer touching you, the stubborn elastic of your panties covering your clit again.

The soft light from the room illuminated his face as you lifted the sheets, peeking at him. A wave of heat burned your cheeks as you caught him with both fingers on his mouth, lingering just against the tip of his tongue as he looked up at you.

Any complaint has left your being. You left him be, laying back down, his image stuck in the back of your mind.

But then you felt it—the rough scrape of his stubble, this time against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The contrast was exquisite, a deliberate tease that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Baby…" you murmured, blindly grabbing his hair as a shiver runned down your spine on a not-so-satisfying feeling.

He didn't seem to listen, his touch unrelenting yet gentle, his hands steady as they coaxed your legs further apart as his lips met your warmth, sucking it gently. A soft, low hum came from him, a sound that vibrated against your skin, reverberating through you.

You held back a melodic ah as the kisses and hickeys spread your leaking wetness, his teeth too teasing you, parted only enough to let the warm breaths of air chill you a little more.

You knew he had lost the patience to wait when both hands grabbed you, one by your thigh and the other by the curve of your butt, holding your panties with the thumb right before his tongue sinfuly make its way from your entrance up to the clit.

The sensation hand you shivering, the brown strands intertwined tightly in your fingers. But then, a burning sensation took over.

"Baek..." a slight frown wrinkle your forehead as you spoke. "You're scratching me."

He paused for a moment, just long enough to let the anticipation build, his warm breath fanning over your exposed skin. 

"You’re really making me stop to go shave?" he murmured from beneath the sheets, the rough edge of his stubble grazing your inner thigh again as be leaned on the elbows.

You tilted your head back against the pillow, your voice barely steady as you tried to pull your leg away.

"You already know my opinion on that."

You could feel him smirking against your skin, pressing another lingering kiss just above your knee. 

"If I even grow a beard someday, will you keep me away from you sweet pussy for at least three weeks ‘til the beard no longer sting?" he teased, his hands sliding further up your leg, his touch igniting sparks which were all concentrated between your legs.

You tried to form a witty reply, the warmth of his breath and the deliberate hoarse words against your bare skin making it impossible to think clearly for a few seconds.

"Most likely." you managed to say, the mental image of a Baekhyun with a beard being difficult to conceive.

Baekhyun let go of your thighs, the warm sigh—more like a laugh—that left his mouth got you weak, and for a moment you almost pulled him back to you.

Reappearing from under the sheets scratching his chin, he looked at you. His lips found their way to yours, his whole body weighing you down against the mattress.

You could feel your taste on him, the growing hardness in his pyjama's pants pressing against you.

"Wanna help me?" he whispered, his voice low, thick with that sweet, convincing manipulation he wielded so well. His gaze moved down from your eyes to your lips, down to your neck—his thumb running through your clavicles. "Can't have my breakfast getting cold while waiting for me…"

And that is how you ended up here—perched on the counter, your legs parted to frame him as he stands between them. His gaze follows your every movement, dark and unwavering, as you dip the razor into the basin and wipe it clean on the towel. 

The room is quiet save for the faint sound of water droplets and the soft scrape of metal as you carefully slid the blade down the line of his throat. His pulse steady, though the faint rise and fall of his chest betrays a quiet anticipation.

His adam’s apple shifts, slow and deliberate, as he swallows under your careful touch.

You pause for a moment, your thumb brushing over the smooth skin you’d left in the razor’s wake. His eyes flick up to meet yours, holding you there with a look that is equal parts trust and something deeper—something raw, burning hot and leaving you nervous.

The corner of his mouth tug upward in a slow, lazy smile. 

"You like this, don’t you?" he teases, his voice soft, playful.

"You seem to be enjoying it more than me." you murmur, and his hands tighten ever so slightly on your thighs, moving further.

You roll your eyes, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrays your pretended annoyance. Carefully, you tilt his chin higher, exposing more of his neck, your fingers brushing against the sharp edge of his jaw. The moment is intoxicating, the intimacy—his surrender, your sense control, the quiet tension crackling between you like static electricity.

You can feel the tiny, slippery puddle forming in the marble under you, your panties—left somewhere you'll probably only find out after you get back from work— no longer being a protective barrier.

"You know…." he says, his voice low and gravelly. "...we could make of this a routine; I let my beard grow a little more than usual, you get all upset and bossy because I scratch your princess skin, and you get to see my face up this close while I-" he slides his thumb over your wetness, making you pull the blade away. A smirk grows on his face. "-til her royal highness authorize the presence of my mouth between her legs again. Huh? What do you say? Good deal?"

You sigh, spreading your legs slightly more. You try to disguise it, wiping the razor clean again, but the gaze is mischief enough for you to know you got caught.

It's not like he's in a place to speak: you could literally see the entire outline of his dick against the pants, his shoulders tense in an anticipation that you know too well. He's as needy as you, but his patience begins to inhibit itself—something you grow used to for good and for bad since he returned from the military.

"Stay still. I’m not done yet." Your eyes flicked back up to his, locking onto the dark intensity there.

A single line of shaving cream remained, stretching from his chin to the base of his neck, and you couldn’t help but let your lips curl into a faint, teasing smile.

"My only intention is not to get all scratched up." you add, your voice light with a hint of mischief. 

His smirk was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly confident. His falsely shy fingers slide into your folds with a mix of restraint and indulgence that, he knows, leaves you aching for more. Looking into your eyes, he slowly curls them up against your sensitive walls.

"I think we both know you don’t mind a little scratch." he says, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver up your spine.

You shift on the counter, your buttock slipping on the cold marble due to that messy puddle you forgot about. Baekhyun grabs your hip with the free hand, steadying you in place.

"Eager, baby?" he teases.

You narrow your eyes at him, looking down at his left hand under your shirt. With a silently warning—to which he responds with a firmer grip the stillness of his fingers and hiding the lower lip, stretching the chin skin—you take the razor’s next glide, slow and steady along the smooth curve of his chin.

"Keep talking and I might ‘accidentally’ nick you." you warn him, though the way your thumb lightly brushes him betrays the care you are taking, trying not to squeeze his fingers, sinking them deeper.

His Adam’s apple bobbed again as he swallowed, the movement deliberate.

"I’m not worried." he replies as the blade leaves his skin as you make him tilt the head back again to light, checking your work. His tone a mix of trust and something more playful. "You’d never risk ruining your masterpiece."

You snort softly, dipping the razor back into the water and wiping it clean on the towel. 

"Such confidence in me." you mutter, shaking your head, trying to deny the warmth curling low in your stomach at the way his gaze hadn’t left you for a second. Only the grip of his on you is keeping you from moving by now.

He leans in slightly, just enough for the edge of his stubble to graze your wrist as you adjust his chin again. 

"Confidence, or just faith in you?" his voice a low rumble seems to vibrate through the small space between you. He digs his fingers into you, his thumb finding the pressure point just above your clit and moving in small circles. "You’re my beloved wife, aren’t you? So committed to keeping me in line... or at least keeping me smooth."

You pause, the razor held just above his skin, your breath catching as you close your eyes. For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick and warm.

"Baek..." His nickname falls from your lips in a barely audible whisper, the sound trembling in the quiet space. Your eyes flicker upward, struggling to meet his intense gaze as you steel yourself. "Lemme finish this and I’m all yours."

Baekhyun smirks, the curve of his lips both wicked and knowing. He shifts slightly, the smallest movement sending his thumb grazing over your clit—just enough to steal your breath and make you falter. Then, just as quickly, he pulls away, leaving a warmth that lingers long after his touch is gone.

"Go ahead." he murmurs, his tone laced with amusement.

And then, with deliberate care, you resume your work, the corner of your lips lifting ever so slightly.

"Not an easy job, to keep you smooth." you put down the blade, holding up the towel to clean his skin of any remaining cream and opening the moisturizing cream bottle. You apply a gentle layer of it on his skin, proud of your job, but it's quickly forgotten. "And it's probably over now…"

He grins.

"Of course it is." he leans against you again, his lips moving against yours as your hips are grabbed against his with a fast movement, taking you away from the counter. Your legs instinctively intertwine around his hips, you hands finding home on the back of his neck and hair.

The sensation is maddening, his lips finding their way downward, planting feather-light kisses along the curve of your neck, each one slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth and want in their wake.

"Let me have my sweet treat now." he murmurs before making his way to the bed, sinking you into the pillows and crumpled sheets.

His body towers over yours, his broad shoulders pressing on your thighs open. His lips meet your stomach in a slow pace, his tongue pressing against your skin before sinking into your pussy again.

You glance down, your breath hitching as your eyes meet his—hungry, desperate, and unwavering. His starved gaze locks onto yours, the raw intensity in his expression sending a wave of heat coursing through your body.

The sounds of his tongue and lips working against you fill the room, unrestrained and unapologetic, echoing through the space with an intimacy that makes you see stars for a moment.

A moan escapes your lips, drawn out by the relentless rhythm of his movements. The sound seems to affect him too, and he answers with a low groan of his own, muffled against you as his hips press into the mattress beneath him. The sheets rustle under his weight, his movements restless, insatiable.

Your hand finds its way to his hair, tangling in the dark strands as his name falls from your lips in a breathless cry. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter; if anything, your touch spurs him further, his focus entirely on you, on this, on the unspoken connection binding you together, and on the way he seems go never get enough of you.

His hands roam over your skin, your thighs, your hips, your waist. His touch is almost frantic, fingers digging in as though he’s anchoring himself, or perhaps losing control altogether.

You catch the faint glimmer of tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust, his face flushed and utterly consumed by the moment. And oh... you're thankful you're also a pillow princess.

[desi2go]

Christmas Scavenger Hunt

pairing: Jisung x reader

words: 4,3k

warnings: fluff, christmas

summary: You and Jisung share a magical holiday experience when Jisung plans a scavenger hunt filled with clues tied to your most cherished memories.

author's note: Hey guys! It's been a while since I posted something. Anyways, I'm back! I had so much fun writing this and btw it's for the StayblrHolidayEvent. I hope you enjoy it <3 Merry Christmas to yall!

-> @stayblrofficial

The first snow of December had come earlier than expected this year, layering the little town in a soft, powdery white. Everything felt quieter, more magical – the world had slowed down just enough to let her breathe. As you walked briskly through the streets towards Parchment Palace, the small independent bookstore where you worked. Your breath was foggy in the frosty air, twinkling lights lined the lampposts and wreaths decorated the storefronts with pops of red ribbon. You absolutely loved Christmas. It had always been your favourite time of year with hot chocolate, the smell of pine and cinnamon as well as Christmas movies you had watched a hundred times without getting bored. By now, you could quote every Christmas related movie that was ever produced. This year, though, felt different. There was something – or rather, someone – that made your cheeks warm even in the winter chill.

Jisung.

It had been only four months since you and Jisung started seeing each other. Four months of easy laughter, long conversations and quiet meaningful moments. He wasn’t the most outgoing guy due to his social anxieties, but he had this gentle, thoughtful way about him. Like he always noticed things others didn’t. You liked that about him, you liked a lot about him, actually.

The bell above Parchment Palace jingled as you stepped inside, the familiar smell of paper and vanilla candles greeted you. Sofia, your cheerful coworker and oldest friend, looked up from the counter and grinned widely. “Morning Y/n” she said, brushing her curly hair out of her face. “Someone’s looking extra giddy today” You rolled your eyes, a smile still spreading over your lips. “I’m just excited about Christmas”

She smirked, wiggling with her eyebrows. “You mean you’re excited about Christmas with Jisung” At her suggestion, you fought the blush that crept up your cheeks. “Maybe”

Sofia chuckled, holding up a small envelope that she waved through the air. “Speaking of, this was mysteriously dropped off for you earlier. No return address, no name. Just To Y/n. Care to explain?” You reached out after hanging up your jacket. “It’s from Jisung, isn’t it?” you murmured while Sofia urged you to find it out, observing the letter behind your back. Your heart skipped as your fingers brushed over the neatly folded paper. As you opened it, you immediately recognised Jisung’s handwriting, slightly messy but unmistakably his.

A little clue to start your day: Find where we first sat with coffee for two. There’s something there only for you to see.

Your lips parted in disbelief, rereading the few lines over and over again. “He’s sending me on a scavenger hunt?” Sofia clapped her hands together in excitement. “He is such a keeper. Honestly, he is making all the other boys look bad” You could hardly contain your joy as you shoved the note securely into your bag. “I can’t believe he actually did this” Sofia laughed, pushing you towards the door and holding your jacket in the other. “I will manage alone here. Go, you have got a mystery to solve”

❄❄❄❄❄

You stepped out of the bookstore into the crisp, snow-kissed morning. The streets were still bustling with holiday shoppers, their arms full of bags, red and green scarves tight against the cold. You tugged your own scarf closer around the neck, the note Jisung had left still snug in your bag. You couldn’t stop smiling. A scavenger hunt. He really planned a scavenger hunt. Jisung wasn’t the flashy or over-the-top like the romantic leads in Christmas movies you loved so dearly, but he had his own charm and this? This was exactly the kind of thing that would melt your heart. Thoughtful and so personal. It already felt like the best Christmas you had ever had, and it hadn’t even arrived yet.

The Blissful Brews was just around the corner, nestled between an old record store and a boutique that sold handmade jewellery. In that old record store worked Jisung. There, you had crossed paths for the first time as you bought your favourite albums and accidentally ran into him. You still remembered how his coffee had drenched your blouse and his deep apologies. The Blissful Brews was the kind of coffee shop that locals loved – warm and small enough that you could find someone you knew sitting in the corner with a steaming mug. The windows were fogged over from the warmth inside and the soft music spilled out as you pushed through the door. Rich espresso mingled with the sweetness of cinnamon and sugar – one of your favourite smells in the world, second only to fresh books and old paper. You paused for a moment near the entrance to take it all in. Everything about this place reminded you of Jisung. The first time you really met (well, if you don’t consider the little accident) and you were so nervous. He had invited you to a coffee as an apology. At that time, you didn’t know that he soon will cross the line between friendship and love.

Now, standing in the familiar warmth of the café, you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. They both had been incredibly nervous, and the first few minutes were awkward as you had ordered. But this issue was overcome pretty quickly, and you were engaged in a deep conversation for hours. “Can I help you?” the young barista asked, leaning on the counter and eyeing her with an amused expression. You turned to observe the man that had dyed his hair in an unusual pinkish colour. You greeted him, telling him that you searched for an envelope. Of course, he knew you. He was the one that took your orders. Raising his eyebrows, he smiled. “A scavenger hunt clue, maybe?” You blinked, surprised. “Jisung told you?” The barista smirked sheepishly. “He may have come in last night and left something for you. That boy is so sweet” He gestured towards the back of the shop. Of course, why didn’t you think about it earlier? It was obvious that Jisung would have hidden at your table – the small two-seater tucked near the huge window where you had sat on your first unofficial date.

Your boots clicked softly against the wooden floor as you made your way to it, the hum of conversation and the faint clatter of cups filling the air. Your heart did a little flip when you saw a piece of paper carefully taped to the back of one of the chairs. He really did plan this whole thing, you thought. The handwriting was unmistakably Jisung’s, looking like he had been scribbling quickly.

Clue Two: Remember the big storm where you got soaked? You laughed at me ‘til you nearly choked. Go where we took cover and found some cheer, You will find your next clue there.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that memory. It had been one of your earlier dates, back in late September. The weather had been cold but clear when you walked around the town. Jisung, as always, had insisted on walking you back home after the successful date – even though it was a good twenty-minute trip, and his own apartment was on the other side of the town. Halfway through, the first droplets of rain started to fall that had been signalized by the dark clouds and the stormy wind. Small and cold, the water absorbed by your thin jacket. “Oh no” you had muttered, looking up at the ominous grey clouds overhead. Jisung, always the optimist, had grinned. “Maybe it will just be a drizzle” he commented.

Well, it wasn’t. Within moments, the rain had come down in buckets, soaking both of you to the bone, clothes clinging to your wet skin. You remembered standing there in the middle of the street, your hair plastered to your face, water running down your jacket in rivulets. And Jisung stared at you helplessly like he was trying to think of something heroic to do. “Umbrella?” he had stammered. “Too late for that” you said, giggling while you brushed your hair out of your face. Jisung had looked at you like you were slightly insane but the smile permanent on his lips. He had tugged you to a small shop, taking shelter there. The quirky little clothing shop near your apartment where he had bought you a fluffy, deep blue hoodie with a funny picture on it to keep you warm. So far, it was one of your favourite hoodies, creating a great memento of your date.

Now standing in that same clothing store, the second clue clutched in your hand, you searched through the cozy, cluttered shop filled with all different kinds and seizes of clothes in multiple colours. The old shopkeeper, looked up with a knowing smile. The smile of the grey-haired lady was kind and warm. “Ah Y/n” she greeted you, folding new clothes and putting them away on of the racks. “Jisung mentioned you would be coming by” You blinked. “He told you about this?”

Her laughter spread the whole shop. “Of course. That lovesick boy spent nearly an hour here yesterday, making sure that everything was perfect” You followed her to the counter as she pulled out a big paper bag. As soon as you opened it, your gaze locked on a red hoodie, decorated with small white snowflakes. You chuckled at the parallel to your past date. On top sat another note.

Here, my love, is clue three: Our bench in the park, Where we shared our first kiss. A memory I hold, sweet and kind, Go back there now and you will find the next clue.

❄❄❄❄❄

As you stepped back out into the cold, the snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky, you couldn’t stop the giddy excitement bubbling inside you. Every little detail Jisung had included so far – the places, the memories, the clues – was so perfectly. Your boots crunched against the freshly fallen snow as you walked quickly towards the park. The streets were busier now, families wandering hand-in-hand, and the shop windows glowing warmly in the gathering dusk. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, your breath misting in the cold air. The park wasn’t far from the clothing shop and soon, you found yourself standing at the entrance, the large trees stood brave in the falling snow, their branches dusted with snow.

The benches – especially the one you were looking for – were a small island in the white. You scanned the park, looking for the familiar sight. There it was, your bench. The bench where Jisung finally made you, his girlfriend. It was tucked beneath an old oak tree, the powdery snow gathering slowly on the wooden slats. The tree’s branches stretched overhead, and you could almost hear your memories of your past visits. The easy conversations, the quiet moments where you had leaned your head against his shoulder. And then, the kiss happened and symbolised the beginning of your relationship. He had seemed so nervous, his gaze wandering over your face, from time to time locking on your lips, not sure if he was allowed to lean in and capture them. You didn’t act differently.

Honestly, he had won your heart over at your fist unofficial date. As you told him about your day, your own eyes travelled over his soft, pillowy lips, imagining how it would be to kiss him. Eventually, he took all his courage and pressed his lips firmly on yours. Before you could even react, your mind still trying to understand what happened, he retracted. As he brushed through his hair in panic, stuttering apologies, you shook yourself out of your trance and grabbed the collar of his jacket. Swiftly, you pulled him towards you again, his voice was overflowing while you silenced him skilfully. This time, you lead the kiss and quickly, he recovered from the shock and reciprocated the tender gesture.

You reached the bench, smiling to yourself as you saw the small package, wrapped simply in brown paper and a beautiful red bow. Bending down, you brushed the thin layer of snow from the package and untied the bow as well as the paper. A big mug caught your eye, pulling it out from underneath the carefully wrapped papers to ensure that it won’t break.

You turned it to inspect the motif, heart fluttering in your chest as soon as your gaze fell on the photo printed on it. It wasn’t just any photo, no, it showed you two, his cheeks squished against yours tightly. You took it right here on the bench a few weeks prior on a date. Both of your smiles were bright, eyes sparkling with joy and adoration. Your chest tightened, touched by the thoughtful gesture as you pulled the mug close to your heart. This would be your favourite mug from now on. Inside, folded carefully, was the next clue. You pulled it out with a mixture of excitement and curiosity, unfolding it gently as if it were something fragile. Jisung’s handwriting filled the page.

Clue Four: It’s time for the final stop on our trip, Come warm up your hand and take a sip, Come Home where the heart will be, Find me, my love, and you will see.

Your heart leapt. Home. It was a simple word, but it meant so much to you. Your home had always been your apartment – your cozy little space filled with tons of books where you had lived since you moved into this town. But with Jisung, it had started to feel like more than just an apartment. As the weather was colder and rainy, you had spent much time there together, arguing over which Christmas movie to watch, cooking dinner side by side and wrapping presents for family and friends.

Slowly, over the last few months, it had become a place where you could imagine a future, a future with him. With this scavenger hunt, he wasn’t trying to be someone he wasn’t. He wasn’t flashy and didn’t plan some over-the-top romantic gesture straight out of a movie. What he had done was so much better – he had paid attention to the small, quiet moments you had shared. The memories that felt uniquely yours.

You read the note again, realizing what the clue actually meant. Jisung was waiting for you. “Home” you murmured to yourself, your breath fogging in the cold air. You felt a flutter of anticipation deep in your chest as you made your way back down the snowy path toward the street, eager to reach your apartment, to see what Jisung had planned next. The walk was quick, but it felt like an eternity. Each step seemed to pull your closer to something that had always been just out of reach – a feeling of belonging. With Jisung.

❄❄❄❄❄

When you reached your apartment building, it felt like the final puzzle piece was clicking into place. The familiar steps that led to the entrance, the little lobby with its mismatched furniture and the clattering sounds of neighbours going about their daily routines – all of it was comforting. It was home. Now, there was the promise of something even more special waiting inside. You climbed the stairs to the floor, your boots clicking softly on the old wooden steps. The snow outside created a thin layer of frost now thick enough to blanket everything in white. But inside, the warmth from her apartment was waiting – just like Jisung. When you reached the door, something was different.

The dim hallway light flickered above your head, casting soft shadows on the walls. But what really caught her attention was the way the hallway smelled. It wasn’t the usual scent of fresh air or coffee from the neighbours down the hall. This time, there was something warmer, sweeter in the air. Curious, you approached your door and paused, your hand resting lightly on the doorknob. The faintest glow of light slipped through the crack beneath the door, casting a soft, inviting warmth into the otherwise dark hallway.

You opened the door slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside, observing your apartment in search of Jisung. There, in the middle of the living room, was the most unexpected sight – a blanket fort. An actual blanket fort. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or cry at how utterly this was. Soft blankets and throws were draped over every available surface, creating a small cozy cocoon in the centre of your living room. Christmas lights twinkled across the top, casting a soft glow. There were pillows scattered everywhere, some piled high inside the fort, others lining the floor like a cushiony path. It was like a childhood dream, but somehow even better – because this time, you had Jisung.

The small Christmas tree you two had bought together last week (well, he helped you with finding the perfect one since you couldn’t decide which one to get and brought it to your apartment since the tree was too heavy for you to lift). Despite your bickering that he should let you help at least with holding it up too, he wanted to do it alone, claiming that it was his job as your boyfriend. You had decorated the Christmas tree together, in the background played your favourite playlist to which you both sang loudly, hanging the handmade ornaments and paper snowflakes on the twigs.

Your heart swelled with pride as you took it all in, trying to figure out how you could get so lucky to have such a thoughtful boyfriend. And then, you heard him in the kitchen, he seemed to be preparing something but as he realised you were home, he stalked into the living area. Two steaming mugs in his hand, your favourites you recognised, His eyes displayed fondness when he observed you, smiling brightly.

“Hey, my love” he greeted you, placing the mugs onto the small couch table before turning to you again. You stepped closer, your feet light on the carpet as you walked towards him, his smile got playful. Hands on your hips, you tried to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face. “So, this is the big finale? A blanket fort? You had me running all over town for this?” A mischievous smile appeared on his lips. “Hey now, this is a masterpiece. I spent hour building and rebuilding it until we both can fit inside. It’s the crown jewel of the scavenger hunt” he exclaimed, fully convinced with his grand idea. You raised your eyebrows, judging his so-called masterpiece. You must say that he did a really good job at building it.

“I must admit, it looks nice” you told him your decision, smiling fondly. “Did you plan all of this?” He nodded proudly, pulling you inside and placed a mug into your hands. As you analysed it further, you realised it was a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, marshmallows and colourful sprinkles. Just how you liked it. The interior of the fort was cozy and intimate, pillows scattered across the floor, and the twinkling lights above gave the space a dreamy glow. You let out a breath you didn’t knew you were holding. “This is … incredible. This whole journey was wonderful.” you whispered. Jisung shifted, his comfortable scent wafting surrounded you, he smelled like home – your home.

“No need to thank me. Even though we are only four months into our relationship, I wanted to do something special. Because in this short time, my life has changed drastically. You became the centre of my life, my love.” he explained, pulling your hand into his, heating your cold fingers as he caressed the skin lightly. His gaze was soft, full of love when he continued.

“And I wanted you to feel how much everything I experienced with you means to me, every single memory we made together. How much you mean to me” You looked at him, your eyes shining while the weight of his words sank in. “I noticed” you stated quietly. “The café where we had our ‘unofficial’ date. The clothing store when we were surprised by the sudden rain. The bench where we shared so many memories, our first kiss included. You didn’t just send me running around town, Ji. You sent me through us”. Your boyfriend leaned back on his elbows, his gaze softening.

“That was the idea” he admitted. “Sometimes we get caught up in the present, in everything happening around us. And I just wanted to take you back – to remind us of all the moments that brought us here”. Your other hand traced the edge of one of the blankets as you took a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly. “It worked. Every step of the way, I felt it – how much thought, how much love you put into this. I’ve never had anything like this before, Jisung. It’s overwhelming, in the best way” The tears you fought to keep in, slowly escaped and rolled over your cheeks as you sobbed because of how much you adored this man next to you and the weight of not only his words but also his actions.

He cooed at you fondly, cupping your face with his hands, brushing the tears away while placing a sweet peck on your forehead. “Don’t cry. You know I can’t stand it when you cry” Soothingly he rocked you, humming to help you calm down. You smiled at him, puffy eyes but you promised that this were happy tears. “This” you said finally “is more than I ever could ask for” You leaned into him, resting your head against Jisung’s shoulder.

“I know that it’s not Christmas Day. But I have another gift for you” he stated, reaching into his hoodie pocket and pulling out a small, wrapped package. “I thought the fort was the grand finale?” You asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. He placed it gracefully into your open palm, his expression playful but tinges with something deeper. “You could describe it as an addition. Go on, open it”

You tore into the wrapping carefully, your fingers grazing the brown paper and the simple red ribbon. Inside was a small wooden box, its surface smooth and polished. Your breath caught as you opened it, revealing an assortment of trinkets nestled inside. There was a ticket stub from your first movie date, the corner slightly torn where he had fidgeted with it nervously. A pressed leave from the time you had from the time you spent in the park with a picnic as the weather wasn’t that bad, even for autumn. Several other things from past dates were laying in the box. The memories flooded back in vivid detail. “You kept all of this?” your voice broke again as tears welled up. He chuckled, his gaze steady. “Of course. I wanted to remember it all – the moments that made me realize how much you mean to me”

You swallowed hard, fighting the lump in your throat that made it difficult to speak. “I don’t even know what to say. This … This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me”. He smiled widely, pecking your forehead once again. “Thank you so much, Ji” “I’m glad, because you mean the world to me, Y/n. And I think there’s one more thing we’re missing to make this moment perfect” He brushed a hair strand out of your face, his touch lingering for a memory before his gaze dropped to your lips. “What’s that?” You smiled widely, already knowing what he is up to. After four months, you had figured out what he meant with that but you tagged along.

“This” The fondness in his eyes made your heart stutter and you couldn’t help but lean closer to him, capturing his lips with your own in a passionate kiss. His lips were soft, pillowy even, and you could even taste the chocolate from the hot chocolate that he had sipped on before. The kiss was filled with promises that only love could carry, the rest of the world melting away, leaving only the two of you and the quiet certainty that this was exactly where you were meant to be. When you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead against Jisung’s, your eyes shining with joy while your boyfriend tightened his arms around you in a protective manner.

Comfortably, you leaned back and cuddled further into his embrace and the blankets that were like a fuzzy cocoon, enveloping you in warmth. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else for the rest of your life. “We have got so much more to add to this box”.

[tangledinink]

For the Swanatello fam: what does everyone miss most about Donnie during his lake-induced absences?

for donnie, leo will gladly give every scrap of patience and grace and gentleness he has. he doesn't mind explaining things. he doesn't mind telling his brother the same things over and over. he doesn't mind it when donnie forgets or doesn't understand or needs his help to remember or process things.

but he misses the banter. the back-and-forth. the stupid fights and pranks and 'you said's' and 'i told you so's.' and, perhaps a bit selfishly, he misses when he didn't always feel like he had to be the bigger person for him. he misses when he still had the space to be childish and immature and petty towards his twin, and it wouldn't hurt either of them the way it tends to now.

[ swanatello ]

[longagoitwastuesday]

I keep thinking that this Gojo is just like Sukuna. I truly don't see much of a difference between them beyond the human/curse point of view

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[sungie]

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMYGOD ITS SO TENDER AND SWEET AND JUST THE BEST EVER YOU REALLY DO ALWAYS COME UP WITH THE BEST LITTLE SCENARIOS AND IM GEN KIKCKING MY FEET GIGGLIGN RN

after-shower hair-care | boyfriend!wriothesley x fem!reader

wriothesley blowdries your hair after you take a shower. (he's hopelessly in love with you).

(´• ω •`) ♡ the only fem pronoun in here is 'ma'am' <3

you sit between wriothesley’s knees, head slumping into his lap as he cards his fingers through your hair. the blow dryer is warm and so are his hands as he dries the damp strands, fingers gentle as he massages oil onto your scalp. you’re drifting in and out of sleep, stirring slightly when you feel his hands move to caress the curve of your cheek. 

“my turn, babe.”

you shuffle, turning to face him, vaguely noticing that he’s tied your hair up in a claw clip. 

“wrio…” you mumble, pressing your cheek against his thigh. “m’ tired. later.”

“nuh-uh,” he says, eyebrow raised. “i want my hair done too.” 

you wrap your arms around his waist, eyes shut. he smells like your peach body wash. 

“but you’re so comfy.” 

you can’t see the smile on wriothesley’s lips as he puts his arms on each of your shoulders and shakes. 

“wriothesley!” you exclaim, his laugh contagious as you brace your hands on his knees. slightly dizzy, you look up at him as his body shakes from laughter, eyes gleaming. his hair is still damp from the shower, a towel around his neck as he holds a blow dryer in his hands. it doesn’t help that he’s not wearing a shirt, either. “you-” 

a blast of hot air in your face. your mouth drops as wriothesley turns the blow dryer on max, turning the heat down after he remembers your complaints about how hot the blow dryer gets. 

“don’t go falling asleep on me, pretty.” he says, tilting your chin up. “or i’ll blow dry your cute face.”

“wrio-” 

he cuts your words off with his lips, ever so gentle as he kisses your complaints away. he pulls away and your dizziness is back. 

“i’m gonna get you back.” you pout, getting up to trade places with him on the bed. “i’ll show you what these fists taste like.” 

“yes, ma'am.” wriothesley salutes. you groan. 

“oh god.” you look down at him as he sits on the carpet between your legs, his legs crossed lazily as he bats his eyelashes up at you. he hands you the blow dryer. “you were into that, weren’t you!” 

“i’m into you.” wriothesley corrects. he’s incredibly smug. you hide behind your palm as you blush, biting the inside of your cheek as his hands gently remove any obstructions from your face. “let me see your pret-”

you turn the blow dryer on max. 

“oh, i like you.” wriothesley says in between his laughter, turning so that you can focus your attention on his hair. “love you, actually.” he corrects. 

“love you too.” you say, ruffling the black and gray strands of his hair. he places a kiss on your knee. you pause before kissing the crown of his head. 

you continue blow drying his hair, towling the strands occasionally. wriothesley’s thankful you’re so focused on his hair that you don’t notice how warm his face has gotten, nor his crimson red cheeks as he blushes into his palm.

[bitterrfruit]

Simon forgets how strong he is

18+ MDNI - cw: bruising - ~700 words

just some Simon Riley NSFW brainrot ♥︎ - part 2-ish, and part 3-ish here!!

Simon forgets how to be gentle.

When he's at war, fighting and shooting and killing day and night, all he knows is hardness. Brutality. Ruthlessness. His hands and heart grow calloused and rough in his months away from you. Using his unfathomable strength to survive is what he grows used to, it becomes second nature.

But it's your softness he remembers, to keep himself sane. It's all he thinks about. Dreams of.

The way the flesh of your hips, your ass, your breasts, your belly, pillows so deliciously between his fingers when he squeezes his handful - so warm, so supple. The way your vanilla-balmed lips graze his scarred skin so tenderly, however undeserved your sweetness is.

And when he finally returns home, after months of missing, craving you - when you stand in the door, honey thighs bare by virtue of the black panties you wore just to torture him, soft tummy peeking out from under your crop-top - he just can't restrain himself.

You greet him with your sugary smile, stretching up on your toes to curl your loving arms around his neck - your gentle voice, music; "Si, ah! I'm so glad you're okay…"

The moment your velvet skin touches his, his shackles crumble. Like a beast starved, he clutches you. Mammoth arms curl around you, constricting, gripping you eagerly like you might be a dream; liable to turn to a memory, to smoke.

His avaricious embrace lifts your feet from the ground, though he doesn't mean to - he burrows his nose and mouth into the crook of your neck, lets the curls of your hair smother him and fill his chest with the faint scent of your fruity shampoo. Fights every urge to take a bite, like you're a ripe nectarine.

Growls into your skin, through his jaw; "I fuckin' missed you, love. Christ, you have no idea how much I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby…" you coo into his ear, even your breathing is tender - he can't take it.

So he ferries you immediately to the sitting room, scoops you up like you weigh nothing, lets you coil your buttery thighs around his waist as he sits you on his lap on the sofa.

His wide hands take their greedy handfuls of your body - of your waist, of your hips, of your thighs, of your ass. Finally indulging the impulses he had dreamed about for so long - the very image he had fucked his fist to more times than he could count while parted from you.

With his teeth on your shoulder, tongue laving your warm skin; "So fuckin' soft," he grumbles deeply, and urges, "pretty thing. So soft. Fuck, I missed you."

His cock is hasty to grow boulder-solid under his trousers, and he chastises himself - but you answer with a cloying giggle, grinding your mound against its rigidity as if to torment him.

"Mm, you did miss me," you tease, little brat.

Then in an instant, all he can think about is the softness of your syrupy pussy, the gumminess of the inside of your cunt as its walls caress and milk his cock like it was built just to fit him.

You make him fucking ravenous, so voraciously eager to have you that he doesn't even notice his hands turn to vices around your flesh - fingers burrowing so deeply into the cheek of your ass that he might break through the skin.

"Ah!" You yelp, "Ow - Simon - you're hurting me-"

Your squeak of pain is enough to immediately shatter him - so he rapidly lifts you off of him, protecting you from his impulse. Stands you on your feet so that you're no longer victim to his inability to control himself.

"Shit, I'm sorry-" he grunts under his breath, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's-" Your brows curl in worry, turning to look at where he had clawed you - and he sees the purple bruises where his hand had wrenched the flesh of your ass, the red lines where his fingernails had nearly punctured you. "Oh," you breathe at the sight, "…wow."

Drowning in visceral shame, he can barely bring himself to touch you again. But your soft hand caresses his hair, running through the sandy tresses - you, somehow, the one to comfort him.

"It's okay, baby, I know you didn't mean to," you purr fondly, and he leans forward to shamefully press as soft a kiss as he can into the bruise he gave you. Fucking monster.

"I'm sorry," he croaks into your skin, hoping his guilt will reverse his barbarity. "I just missed you."

"I know," you croon, turning to plant a loving kiss into his hair. "It's okay."

You guide him to lean back, mounting his lap again, letting your pelvis grind against the erection you were quick to reawaken.

His hands barely ghosting over your skin, he restrains himself, touches you carefully.

You whisper, into his stubbled cheek; "I'll show you how to be gentle again."

[rumisgf]

❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION (PART 2!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: y’all wanted a part two i shall give a part two

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: katsuki bakugou, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, iida tenya, kirishima eijirou

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: black!reader obv, cursing, mentions of drug usage/marijuana, suggestive if u squint, fem reader implied, mentioning of babies/children

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

✮ wipes your tears sort of aggressively but only because he’s so urgent to comfort you and take care of you

✮ always hugs you by your lower waist

✮ when you go to the gym together, he’s the type to always say “c’mon, you can do one more.” or “do three more”

✮ ruffles your hair/flicks your forehead in a teasing way

✮ “act right.”/“watch out.”

✮ doesn’t remind you to drink water— he simply justs brings water bottles up to your mouth and tells you to “open up”

✮ if you have any, he cares for your pets like they’re his own

✮ just something about the sight of him holding a baby

✮ bites you just because he can

✮ pulls you into his lap whenever he’s tired of your attitude

✮ gets super close to your face like he’s gonna kiss you but pulls away just to mess with you

✮ “that’s my girl” in the most proud voice ever every single time

TODOROKI SHOTO

✮ any time he does get high he’s all over you and staring at you with half lidded eyes

✮ it’s just something about the way he curses man.

✮ loves falling asleep on the phone with you and takes facetime photos of you sleeping because he thinks you look like an angel

✮ runs his thumb over your hand whenever you hold hands

✮ loves giving earlobe kisses

✮ will casually be like “when we have kids,”

✮ sends voice memos ranging from something funny that happened in class to how much he misses you and needs to see you

✮ kisses your lip gloss off every chance he gets right after complimenting how nice your lip combo looks

✮ sends you pictures of yourself and says “you look so pretty in this”

✮ him whispering in your ear.

✮ has your contact as the only one pinned in his messages

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

✮ pats away your tears with his finger instead of wiping them (those who watch love island usa and are kordell + serena fans know what i’m talking about)

✮ places his hand on the small of your waist to guide your somewhere or move you out the way

✮ constant forehead kisses

✮ lifts you up and spins you around when he’s excited to hug you

✮ guides you into the right form when you workout together

✮ runs his hands down your waist and hips when he’s checking you out while you’re right in front of him

✮ him around kids. that’s all.

✮ gives you flowers pretty much every week— and one time he gave you a money bouquet for your birthday

✮ flexes for you when he feels you staring at him and pretends he’s not doing it on purpose

✮ throws his arm around you and presses you flush against his chest when you go to sit on the couch next to him

✮ refers to you as his “wife” to his friends

KAMINARI DENKI

✮ you could have been rotting in bed all day and when he facetimes you he always greets you with something along the lines of “hello my beautiful princess” with a lovesick tone of voice

✮ calls you “mama” and “ma”

✮ obsessed with skinship because he aches to be able to “crawl inside your skin” and just needs to be close to you

✮ blows kisses at you from across the room

✮ for comfort, he runs his fingers through your hair and rocks you back and forth while hugging you

✮ his morning voice :)))

✮ lets you bite him and encourages it

✮ gets very touchy when you’re on his lap

✮ the king of “i know you’re probably asleep, but” texts

✮ goes on rants about how gentle and how well he would care for you when you’re one day pregnant with his children

✮ always calling you his “pretty baby”/“pretty girl”

✮ always posts pretty candid pictures of you and makes heartfelt story posts for every birthday, anniversary, and valentine’s day

HITOSHI SHINSOU

✮ has read for you + sung you to sleep on multiple occasions

✮ grabs you by your chin to force eye contact

✮ “say please”

✮ checks you every time you have an attitude with a smirk on his face

✮ has a habit of biting his lip

✮ says “there you go, babe” way too much.

✮ glares at anyone who flirts with you while tightly wrapping an arm around your waist

✮ has made multiple shared playlists for the both of you

✮ says he’s “gatekeeping” you because you’re just too pretty and he has to keep you to himself

✮ plays with your fingers when he’s bored or nervous

✮ buries his face into your neck to bask in your scent when he hugs you

✮ randomly stares at your for a full five minutes when you’re talking, barely listening to a word you’re saying, then lovingly sighs “i love you so much…”

IIDA TENYA

✮ always opens every door for you

✮ holds your hands while walking across the street or through the hallways

✮ very protective over you and will respectfully cuss anybody out who disrespects you

✮ pretty much has replaced your name is his vocabulary with “honey” and “sweetheart”

✮ never calls you hot— he always calls you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, or stunning

✮ grabs you by your sleeve or your belt loop to take you somewhere if you don’t hear him call your name the third time

✮ the thought of ever calling you his “bitch” disgusts him, he calls you his lady or his love instead

✮ will immediately grab the nearest box of tissues to wipe your tears or your nose whenever you’re crying

✮ kisses your cheek to greet you and say goodbye

✮ has deep conversations about your future together when you get to that point in the relationship, and is open about how much his heart swells at imagining you as a mother

✮ kisses your forehead when he notices you asleep on his chest

© rumisgf

[sunarinscat]

Nsfw below the cut !!

Thinking about Izuku who gets a little bit older and his voice grows a bit deeper. It’s raspy from all that screaming he did growing up. His hands are big and worn with scars and they easily dwarf your dainty little ones. He comes home with so much pent up frustration! The enemy got away and he hardly got to fight!! He still has adrenaline pumping through his veins.. all of that energy has to go somewhere. How can you deny him the outlet he needs?

So he coaxes his darling wife away from making dinner and slides you up on the counter. He fucking devours you. But he’s holding back. He’s trying so hard to be gentle with you.. that is until you blink up at him with your big doe eyes and long wet lashes. You look towards your thighs and your cheeks go red as you beg him to manhandle you.. to treat you like a toy. You bat your lashes at him and tell him you can take it. His girl can take it.

“Please zuku’” you whine.

He absolutely loses it. Hands all over you in an instant. He pries you thighs open and holds them there with his strong grip. His head is between your thighs and he’s eating you out like a man starved.

He’s moaning into your pussy and you know he’s saying the nastiest shit but it’s muffled and you can hardly hear it. Midoriya is so big on praise, he’ll break away just to tell you how good you are for him, how precious.. before he’s back at your cunt, lapping at your folds. He swirls his tongue around your clit, bringing two fingers up to tease your entrance. He slips his thick, calloused digits inside and hits that spongey spot you can never seem to reach on your own. He shudders when your hands find purchase in his hair. It makes him sob into you, the vibrations sending delicious shivers through your body. And when you go over the edge he doesn’t stop.

“One more f’me princess.”

But one turns into five and by the time his drooling cock is lining up with your entrance you’re twitching. But you said you could handle it. His girl CAN handle it, right? he fucks you mercilessly. He’s gripping you for dear life, mumbling things in your ear and cursing out that villain. You paw at his chest because it’s too hot and it’s too much and he’s everywhere. You’re so overstimulated, you can’t help the tears that slide down your cheeks. Izuku notices and laps them up, focusing back in on you and holding your face gently in contrast to the harsh movements of his hips. His eyes bore into yours and you can see his desperation.

“Cum with me baby. Last time. One more for me sweetheart.”

It’s so desperate, all of it is. Your clawing at his back as he fucks you. You can feel yourself approaching your high and you know he’s close too. With a whine you pull his face into your neck and cum hard. The way your plush walls squeeze around him has him reeling. When he finishes inside he collapses beside you.

Suddenly that sweet boy you met in highschool is back with you and he’s cleaning you up and asking if your all right. He runs a bath and feeds you the dinner you made before sliding into the tub with you and taking good care of you. When you flinch as his hands hit something sore he peppers kisses all over your back and shoulders. He asks if that was too much and you lean back into him reassuring him that you enjoyed it.

Izuku won’t go out of his way to manhandle you again.But maybe if you beg again he’ll give in…

[unedited for now]