#what he really wanted was a relationship with another boy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jensthwa · 2 days ago

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a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.

PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!

WORD COUNT: 7k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?

NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 25th 2024.

Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget.

He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.

Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority.

Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever.

And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him.

And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound.

He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house.

Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them.

The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years.

The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek.

You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another.

He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street.

Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.

“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly.

He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.”

“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.”

You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them.

“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away.

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love.

He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…

“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.”

He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment.

His friend was a very proud but not that out gay man.

But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway.

“Good luck with that, love.”

“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!”

The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him.

Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even.

He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.

Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi.

Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all.

School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either.

“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.”

“You said you felt he was not the one.”

Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?”

“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.”

You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone.

He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well.

He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go.

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in.

That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it.

The noise quieting down, that is.

Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.

Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect.

He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you.

And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth.

“Shit, shit. Security!”

You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it.

“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?”

No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart.

Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life.

Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you.

You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship.

He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back!

And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you.

“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?”

No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it.

“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.”

He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.

“She probably doesn't feel the same.”

“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.”

Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move.

He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him.

His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long.

And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present.

They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two.

Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily.

You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it.

“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?”

“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.”

“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.”

You pout “That's like… A lifetime.”

“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.”

He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes.

Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.”

Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!”

“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm.

You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room.

“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.”

“My eyes are literally closed!”

He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway.

You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct:

“Look up and open your eyes.”

Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks.

“Love… That's so chees—”

“Just kiss me, you idiot.”

And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him.

“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling.

“Sit on the floor.”

He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.

Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!”

There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets.

“This is beautiful, love…”

He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts.

There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs.

The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum.

“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!”

He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?”

“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.

You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card.

“Before you open it, let me read this to you.”

“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction.

“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um…

“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.”

When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks.

“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart.

Kind of.

When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.

The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace.

With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis.

The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.

“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—”

“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears.

“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.”

He doesn't even know what to say.

“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back.

“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?”

“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up.

He points his finger at you “Wait here.”

And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat.

It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately.

“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”

It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart.

Just like you hold his heart.

“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.”

You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger.

“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—”

He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him.

“Shit, hold on—”

“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor.

“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?”

“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.

“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck.

“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again.

“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went.

There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his.

You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like.

Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared.

Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit.

He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him.

He moans pathetically.

You smile at the sound.

“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail.

“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone.

“With the necklace on?”

“And the sweater.”

He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression.

He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh.

“Where did you learn this kink, love?”

“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…”

“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips.

“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?”

He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”

“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want.

“Used her to get off?”

You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours.

“Is that what you want me to do with you?”

“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”

Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want.

Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return.

Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you.

He also knows you enjoy this.

The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal.

A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud.

“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?”

You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine.

“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?”

Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another.

And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home.

So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there.

You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then.

Today, there’s not enough time.

So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin.

You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.

He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him.

If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched.

Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room.

And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well.

He remembers he doesn't have much time.

And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue.

He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going?

You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling.

You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.

“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!”

Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace.

“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.

He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval.��

“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.”

You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now?

With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you?

He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—

“Oh— fuck.”

His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before.

“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up.

And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully.

No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum.

He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately.

“That was…”

“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.”

He gasps in feign offense.

“Stop projecting, love.”

“Am not—”

“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you.

You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back.

“I want to marry you, Y/N.”

He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes.

“Now?”

He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.”

“Good thing you got my ring size right.”

Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him.

“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again. “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.”

You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.

“I don’t want it any other way, love.”

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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ellecdc · 2 hours ago

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hi!! i recently discovered your blog and i'm afraid you've singlehandedly brought back my harry potter hyperfixation. i didn't even know moonwater/darksun wasn't a thing until your posts ... i've been so out of loop

i was wondering if you could write about moonwater and a reader who's too nice for her own good. regulus being in a secret relationship with reader and remus, seeing reader being bullied and trying to teach her how to be scary or fight back but she's too adorable for it. so he just says fuck it and hard launches their relationship by walking her everywhere to scare away her bullies himself

such a cute prompt - thank you for your request! I hope I did it justice <3

poly!moonwater x whimsical!reader who's too sweet for her own good [1.1k words]

CW: fem!reader, reader is from Ravenclaw, her housemates are sort of bullying her, the boys are protective, Regulus threatens pain and torture, hard launching an up-until-then private relationship, fluff

“Dovie,” Remus cooed in that way that Regulus could tell he was sort of trying to be chiding but really couldn’t bring himself to be as stern as he wanted to be, “where is your scarf?”

You paused in shucking off your robes to look down at your scarfless frame as though you’d only just realised it was missing. “Oh, well, it wasn’t on the coat rack that I normally leave it on when I was getting ready for class this morning.” You explained breezily. “So I just left without it.”

“Do you have any idea where it could be?” Regulus asked carefully as he fought against the protective ire threatening to bubble over; daring to draw closer to you in the privacy of one of the study rooms that the three of you often secluded yourselves in.

The relationship was new - not tentative, yet delicate - and Regulus wasn’t exactly ready to welcome the attention that being a Black and a Slytherin could draw to what he deemed to be quite precious.

“No, but it has the habit of showing up in the most peculiar places.” You replied, ever present smile adorning your face as Remus and Regulus shared a sympathetic and concerned gaze over your head, respectively.

“Like where, amour?” Regulus pressed.

Your lips pursed as you considered him. “One time it was hanging from the rafters in the great hall; that was very tricky to get down. Oh! And another time, it was wrapped in a bow around a pot of venomous tentacula; very cute, but the plant did nip at me when I tried to retrieve it.”

“Sweetheart,” Remus cooed again as he sat forward in his chair, clearly feeling very sorry on your behalf, “who keeps doing that?”

Your brows furrowed at Remus’ obvious displeasure. “Well, I’m sure it’s probably my housemates? They have easy enough access to my things.”

“Things?” Regulus interjected. “Plural? They do this to your other stuff too?”

“Oh, all the time.” You agreed simply.

“And you let them?” He continued, earning him a reproachful “Regulus…” from Remus.

“Well,” you offered with a shrug of your shoulders, “they seem to have fun doing it.”

“No, absolutely not.” Regulus declared as he stood. “Amour, stand up, we’re putting an end to this.”

“An end to this?” You asked curiously, though you stood as Regulus directed you to, allowing him to position you in the middle of the room.

“Pretend I’m your roommates.” He instructed, fixing his robes and standing straighter as he ignored Remus’ snort of laughter who simply watched with intrigue. “Tell me to keep my filthy fucking hands off of your godsdamned things.”

You pulled your lips in between your teeth as you looked at Remus nervously. “Erm…could, well, could you please keep your…filthy fucking hands off of my things…please?”

“Amour,” Regulus chastised, “stop saying please. Don’t say please.”

“Well, it’s just that it’s a little rude, Regulus.” You explained as though Regulus might not have known.

“I know it’s rude, amour. That’s what happens when people steal your things, yeah?”

“They’re not stealing my things.” You argued. “They…borrow them; I get them back eventually.”

“Yeah? Remus, do you often have to fight venomous tentacula’s for your things?”

“Not once.” Remus answered quickly, keeping his interested gaze on you.

“No? Why’s that?”

Remus shrugged. “I’d probably be very rude to them if anyone tried to steal my things.”

“You’re not rude, Remus.” You insisted, causing Remus’ teasing smile to soften to near painful levels. Regulus thought it was disgusting adorable.

“I’m not rude to you, dovie. But you also don’t steal my things or play mean pranks on me.”

Your face fell somewhere between bemused and crestfallen. “You think they’re being mean to me?”

A pained sound actually emanated from the back of Remus’ throat.

“Well…I don’t think they’re being very nice to you, mon cœur.” Regulus offered softly, shooting a grimace over at Remus.

“Well…why would I want to be rude like them, then?” You asked honestly, and Salazar’s saggy balls, if Regulus didn’t completely agree with you.

“You know what, amour? You’re absolutely right.” He agreed; lips threatening to turn up at the corners at your relieved smile.

“Well, hang on.” Remus started. “What are we going to do about her things?”

“Salazar help me, if you don’t tell me where the fuck you’ve put her scarf I will have you chained to the bottom of the Black Lake so godsdamned fast, Merlin himself won’t be able to help you.” Regulus hissed, one hand fisting the collar of a beady-eyed Ravenclaw and one hand shoving the tip of his wand into the bloke's jugular.

“It-it’s hanging in the Hippogriff pen!” He offered quickly, struggling in Regulus’ grip.

“Good lad.” Remus offered patronisingly from behind Regulus. “Now go get it for her.”

Regulus released his hold on the bloke's collar the second he nodded, and the Ravenclaw couldn’t have taken off towards the Beast's classroom faster if he had tried.

“Anyone else have any of Y/N’s things they’d like to cough up before we come looking for them?” Remus asked jovially, smiling at the cautious crowd that had formed when they heard Regulus Black and Remus Lupin of all people were on a warpath.

“Uhm,” a witch squeaked as she stepped towards you, keeping her nervous eyes pointed at your boyfriends, “sorry, L/N…I, erm, I seem to have come across your History of Magic textbook.”

You smiled as though she was handing you a gift. “Thank you, Clarissa; I kept getting detention for showing up to class without it.”

Regulus was sure Remus could actually hear Regulus’ teeth clench from his place beside him, but Remus simply placed a placating hand on his elbow.

“If I so much as see you even looking at her things again, Clarissa-”

“You won’t!” Clarissa yelped, interrupting the end of Regulus’ threat before taking off down the hallway.

“Do you have all of your things now, dove?” Remus asked after you, watching you look down at the book in your hands.

“Almost, but I’m sure the rest of my things will start showing up now.” You responded happily. Remus nodded in agreement, Regulus narrowed his eyes at the surrounding crowd as if threatening ‘they better’.

The relationship was new - not tentative, yet delicate - and Regulus hadn’t been quite ready to welcome the attention that being a Black and a Slytherin could draw to what he deemed to be quite precious.

But if welcoming the attention that being a Black and a Slytherin could draw is what it took to keep you happy and safe, well, he was more than willing to pull out all the stops for his sweet and too-pure-for-her-own-good girlfriend.

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heavyhitterheaux · 5 hours ago

Text

Santa Tell Me

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: It's your first time celebrating Christmas with Joe as a couple as your first semester at LSU comes to an end. The two of you celebrate in your own little way seeing as Joe is going back home while you are headed to New Orleans. However, you confide in your best friend about your hesitations about getting into another relationship so quickly and hoping that what feels like a fairy tale isn't too good to be true

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The timer went off once again letting you know that all of the cookies were now officially done baking. As you were taking them out of the oven and placing them on the cooling rack, Erin attempted to grab one to eat it when you quickly slapped her hand away resulting in her letting out a yelp followed by her glaring at you.

“Ow!”

“Those are specifically for Joey so we can decorate them once he gets here. I literally just made you an entire cheesecake.”

“But I want a cookie, too!” Erin exclaimed, but you weren't budging.

“No and he should be here soon.”

As you sat at the table in your small kitchen, Erin sat across from you and had begun eating her cheesecake when you suddenly asked her a question which caught her off guard.

“Erin, what if me and Joe break up? And that cheesecake was not meant for it to be eaten in one sitting.” You casually asked as you unlocked your phone to play one of the many games that you had installed.

“Huh? What in the world are you even talking about? And I'll just ask for another one.” She asked as she put her fork down to look at you.

“What if we break up and we don't work out? I literally just hopped from one relationship to another and…”

“Stop. Just stop. I have on my Christmas sweater and I am eating my Christmas treats you made me and we are listening to Justin Bieber's Under the Mistletoe and you are fucking the vibe up.”

“But…”

“No, we are not doing this. You two haven't been together very long, but Joe literally worships the ground you walk on. The way he even looks at you is insane. That boy is IN LOVE.” Erin said as she now opened the freezer to take out the ice cream you thought you were discreetly hiding from her, but it looks as though you efforts had failed.

“But what if it's too good to be true? Sometimes It doesn't even feel real.”

“You literally have no idea of what happiness looks like even if it hits you in the face. He has been after you basically the entire semester and now that he finally has you and you have him, you think that the two of you are going to end up breaking up? Make it make sense, babe.”

“Everything started out too good to be true with Trevor and look what happened with that.”

“Uh no, boo. Trevor had been an asshole from the beginning, it just took you forever and a day to notice. Everyone else saw it but you. You’ve been treated like shit for so long that your ass is literally blinded to how good you actually have it. I mean Joe hit me up a few weeks ago to help him pick out your Christmas gift or gifts I should say.”

“Wait, he did what?”

“Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say anything so let’s just pretend I didn’t. But they're really pretty and I know that you’re going to like it.”

“I just… he’s really important to me and I just want this to work out between us.”

“And it will. I literally started planning the wedding the day you two met because I saw the way you lit up when you talked about him. It’s going to work out and I will be the first person to say ‘I told you so’ when you are walking down the aisle.”

“I’m holding you to that seeing as it’s still pretty early to be singing about wedding bells.”

“But for now, it’s December, we almost made it through our first semester as college students, you have a very cute boyfriend who wants to spend every waking moment of the day with you so you need to make the most of it.”

“You’re right, I do need to make the most of it seeing as it’ll be a few weeks where we won’t see each other since he’s going back home.”

“And his birthday is coming up too. So, my vote is to have Christmas early with the two of you. Hopefully by doing this you won’t miss him so much on the actual day since the two of you kind of already celebrated in your own way.”

“I mean, I did get us matching Christmas pajamas to decorate our cookies, drink hot chocolate, and watch cheesy Hallmark movies.”

“See? Perfect. And I know that he is going to love every minute of it. But for now, I am going to go study for one of my many finals and hope and pray that the words on the pages in the textbooks somehow transfer themselves to my brain. Let me know how everything goes.” Erin told you as she wrapped up her cheesecake and placed it in a plastic bag hoping none of the filling would get on the seats in her car.

“Me saying ‘I told you so’ is going to hit so hard in a few years. But….” She was cut off mid-sentence as there was a knock on the door.

“And look at that, there he is. Let's go see your future husband.”

You couldn't help but to laugh and shake your head at Erin as she was gathering all of her things, while you went to go and answer the door. Once you did, you were met with your boyfriend carrying a shitload of different bags and him leaning down to kiss you.

“Okay, you two! Spare my eyes, I'm leaving so Joe can turn you every way but loose without me having to see it.”

“Bye, Erin.” Was all you said as she continued to smile at the both of you.

“Hi Joe, Bye Joe.” She told him as he fully walked into your apartment as she was headed out the door.

“Bye Erin.”

Once the two of you were by yourselves, you immediately started questioning Joe about the many bags he brought.

“Uh, babe? Are you moving in and didn't tell me yet?” You asked and he let out a laugh before starting to open some of them and pull out their contents.

“I just bought a bunch of different things we could do. It's almost finals week and I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. And you have literally been playing this album since the day after Halloween.”

“Aww, I love it. Okay so tell me what you bought. And what about it!?” You asked as he had set everything down and motioned for you to sit down on the couch so he could show you.

“So my chess set. Ever since I taught you how to play, you said that you were going to try and beat me before the semester was over and never mind that I even said anything. Low key convinced that you're going to break up with me and get with Justin.”

“Very true but athletes are my thing, not singers.”

“My telescope since you love learning about space as much as I do. And I guess that means I'm safe?”

“I am loving this so far and yes, babe. You're safe.” You told him as you placed the chess set on the table.

“Madden. Since I know if you were able to be on the field with us, you would be. But I mean I can't sing all that well, but if you want me to serenade you just say the word.”

“Good point and seriously?” You replied while laughing.

“And I think that's it for now. I could only carry so much. But you'll be the one hitting high notes with how good I'm making you feel.” He told you as he shrugged while you gave him a small smile while also shaking your head at him.

“It's absolutely perfect and I have something for you too. I'm ignoring that last part.”

“What is it? Before the night is over, I'm making it happen.” Joe said as you ran into your bedroom to find the bag that they were in before coming back out into the living room.

“Matching Christmas pajamas.”

“Oh, so we're that type of couple now?” Joe teased as you rolled your eyes.

“Yes, and this is literally going to happen starting from this year until forever.” You replied as Joe moved closer towards you and put his finger underneath your chin in order for you to be able to look up at him.

“Forever? I like the sound of that.” He quietly said while leaning down to kiss you.

“But for now, we also have cookies to decorate that I baked and hot chocolate to drink.”

“Let’s do it.”

The two of you got comfortable in your pajamas before starting to decorate the cookies and you were multitasking with making the hot chocolate at the same time.

Joe was concentrating hard when you decided to peek over and take a look at what he was doing.

“Joey, I thought you were making a Santa cookie?” You asked while a little bit confused on what you were actually looking at.

“I am! This looks like Santa! I just need to do his beard.”

“And his hat.” You added noticing that was missing also.

“Not everyone can be an amazing baker in their spare time like you.”

“Hmm, you're right, but it doesn't look bad. If I opened my own bakery, I might hire you. I do happen to be a woman of many talents. So, someone mentioned to me that you got my Christmas gift already?”

Joe stopped decorating his cookie to look at you with a blank stare.

“No. I'm not telling you what it is and I am never telling Erin anything else ever again.”

“But babe!”

“No. Final answer.” Joe replied as you rolled your eyes at him which then led to him pinching your cheek.

“Fix your face. I want it to be a surprise and I don't plan on spoiling it for you.”

“Well I got you a gift for your birthday as well as Christmas. It didn't feel right combining both of them together.”

“And unlike my girlfriend, I'm going to be patient and wait.”

“You mean to tell me that you aren't the least bit curious about what I got you?” You asked him and you could tell he was thinking about his answer before he said it.

“Nope.”

“Liar. I know that you definitely want to know. But I'll just say I know that both of them are something that you're really going to love.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him.

“As much as I love you?”

“No, but knowing you it might come close.” You told him as you were now putting the final touches on the hot chocolate you made for the two of you and handed him his mug.

“And like I said, I'll be patient unlike some other people.”

“I'm ignoring you. Anyway, break out the telescope since it's clear tonight and we'll be able to see something.”

Once Joe had gotten the telescope set up by the window, you were just finishing your hot chocolate and went to place your mug in the dishwasher before going back into the living room and seeing Joe with a bashful smile across his face.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” You asked while wrapping your arms around him and Joe leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead before responding to you.

“I'm about to show you. Stand in front of me and look through it. Don't adjust anything.” He said as he slowly turned you around so that you would be facing it.

You did as you were told and noticed that it was focused on one single star.

“I see it, babe. What's so special about it?” You asked as you turned back to look at him and he simply handed you an envelope.

“It's the star that I got named after us.”

Your eyes went wide and a smile broke out on your face as you took out the contents of the envelope and it simply said Y/N and Joey's Star at the top.

Underneath was a map detailing where you would be able to find it.

“So no matter where we are, whether together or apart. We can be able to look at it at the same time. This isn't a part of your Christmas gifts by the way, I just wanted to do it since I figured you would like it.” He shyly told you as the smile became wider on your face. You didn't say anything, but simply wrapped your arms around him once again.

“This was… no… this is definitely the sweetest thing that anyone has ever done for me. I honestly wouldn't have even been upset if this did end up being my Christmas gift. I love it and I love you which you already knew, but I figured that I would tell you anyway.” You quietly told him as he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips.

“And I love you. Remember earlier how you mentioned that matching pajamas are going to be a thing for us forever?” Joe asked and you gave him a swift nod.

“Mm hmm, what about it?”

“This is also going to be something that we have forever. Any time we get in a disagreement or we're not seeing eye to eye with each other, we need to remember that we're in this together for the long run. And looking up at the star can remind us of that. I know we haven't been together for very long, but I want this with you and I've been saying from day one how I'm going to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” Joe confessed and the smile on your face couldn't help but to get bigger.

“I'm going to hold you to that Burrow.”

“How about you hold me to this too? Look up for me?”

As you looked up, you saw that Joe was holding a mistletoe above the both of you.

“Any excuse to get more kisses from me, huh?” You playfully asked him and was met with a smirk.

“I mean, I've been getting kisses from the moment I got here, but this is just a plus.” He told you as he leaned down and you reached up to meet him halfway.

“And there will be many more where that came from.”

“Santa definitely did his big one this year.”

“How so?”

“I get to spend it with someone who I know cares about me just as much as I care about them. That's literally all I asked for.”

#Spotify #joe burrow #joe burrow lsu #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe shiesty #joey burrow

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fuqnia · 17 hours ago

Text

SP Main Four + butters !College AU Relationship Headcanons

[☆] A/N | hii guys! i recently hit 500 likes on tumblr and i'm like so speechless... i never wouldve thought people would be interested in reading my stupid little writing hehe, so tysm! my long fic, most wanted, is coming to a close soon, and I have been working on another longfic that's a fem!reader insert x main 4 boys in college! i'm also probably going to write a more realistic/sadder headcanons, because this one was toothachingly sweet </3

[☆] C/W | NSFW under the cut, this is also for f!reader, but i'm open to writing a gn!reader or m!reader in the future

[☆] check out my !college au headcanons for the boys + butters here!

☆ stan marsh

hopeless romantic

will definitely do the most cheesy things for you

has a mixtape of songs that remind him of you

writes love letters, but never gives them to you

feels everything deeply, he's a big ol' baby

late night talks about his fears and dreams

craves emotional intimacy and trust w/ you

super duper attentive to your needs

will put you over himself

overthinks

enjoys laid-back dates! like movie dates, thrifting, strolls

gets jealous reallyyy easily

wont outright admit it tho

very insecure, if someone flirts with u, he'll just sulk LOL

avoids confrontations at all costs

not afraid to cry in front of you

vomits on you if you do something really provocative to him

always offer his jacket/hoodie to you

loves holding your hand

laces his fingers thru yours and swings your hands

goofy ah grin when you surprise him with kisses

big on cuddling

gets super flustered when his friends teases him about you

obsessed with your laugh

keeps a picture of you in his wallet

NSFW

sooo nervous during your first time with him

very eager to please!

takes his time learning what you like

kisses every inch of your body

starts with your lips and works his way down

definitely a soft dom

"does this feel good?" "tell me if you want me to stop"

loves holding your hand while in you

eats your p out like your his last meal

i think he would be more into receiving than giving, but doesn't mind giving at all!

gets shy when you compliment him and tell him how good he is making you feel

prefers gentle sex, unless you want it rough

his entire body flushes red when you tease his cock

like palming thru his shorts, or pressing quick kisses to his tip

loves to cum in your mouth

goes crazy if he gets to paint your face tho

i'm sorry but this man is into creampies...

gets turned on when you're really emotional/crying from him pleasuring you

favorite position is definitely cowgirl

definitely an ass man, loves squishing/pinching your skin

kisses your forehead, cheeks and lips after going down on you

i think he would also be kinda quiet, wouldn't let out that many moans

☆ kyle broflovski

shows his love thru actions rather than words

remembers every anniversary, even the little ones :)

makes detailed itineraries for dates

even though he's a yapper, he definitely enjoys listening to you

fiercely loyal

takes no disrespect towards you

ready to work anyone's shit as so much as they look at you funny

probably would like someone who would challenge him intellectually

needs you to have the same core values as him

DO NOT DO PDA WITH THIS MAN

he will just look at you with pure disgust if you even attempt to...

but will secretly hold hands under the table or sneak a kiss when no one is looking

puts too much pressure on himself to be perfect for you

always notices this little things about you

oh you changed your nail color? you applied your makeup differently?

will blush like crazy when you compliment him

awkwardly rubs the back of his neck

will get irrationally jealous

tries to hide it by cracking sarcastic jokes

writes you long thoughtful texts when your apart, updates you about his day, asks you how yours went

becomes super attentive when your sad or stressed

wraps you in a blanket, makes you tea

i feel like he'd hate the feeling of having a crush

but once he's in a relationship, lowkey a romantic, buy you books he'd think you'd like, jewelry that compliments your skin tone

NSFW

overthinks everything at first

constantly asks "is this okay? are you sure?"

like i said, super attentive, he needs to make sure you're okay

loves eye contact while fucking you

gets really shy when you take control but secretly loves it

prefers slow deliberate strokes and touches

has a thing for neck kisses– both giving and receiving

talks your through it

"you're perfect" "you feel so good"

gets competitive if you tease him about lasting longer

please kiss his freckles... he'll go absolutely feral

not afraid to leave hickeys, scratches or nail prints on you

wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck and his life is yours LOL

i think missionary would be his favorite position

needs to see your face

it's his life mission to make you squirt...

loves fingering you

sit on his face ?

super embarrassed about his moans, but lets it out anyways lmfao

loves your titties, no matter the size

will beg you to let him cum in you

☆ kenny mccormick

we all know kenny is a natural flirt

will wink, smirk, and use cheesy pick-up lines to make you blush

loves physical affection

always has an arm around your waist

makes you laugh constantly

goes to extreme lengths to see you smile, whether it's his silly pranks or grand gestures

draws little hearts and doodles on your notebooks/texts

if he's super bored, he'll draw on your skin lmfao

super duper protective— he'll walk you home late at night and make sure you're always safe

loves taking you on adventurous dates, especially sneaking into places you're not supposed to be

calls you "babe," "sweetheart," or "princess" with that drawl of his hehe

not above embarrassing himself, will write cringe worthy poems or songs and serenade you

immediately notices when you're a little bit off

pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back

buys you little trinkets and steals snacks from eric, saying, "i saw this and thought of you!"

obsessed with kissing you, he'll lean in for a quick peck and smirks when he notices your smile

immediately goes back in for a longer kiss

i think he's super good at braiding hair, and loves playing with yours!

please wear his band tees <3

NSFW

super duper confident, definitely knows what he's doing

loves teasing you, using soft kisses and touches to drive you crazy before giving in

worships your body, tracing every curve with his lips and hands

like kyle, adores it when you take charge and being at your mercy

whispers dirty things in your ear, his voice low and sultry

"you're so fuckin' beautiful babe, I can't get enough of you."

VOCAL AS FUCK ! he'll groan, sigh, whisper your name, letting you know exactly how good you're making him feel

has a downright pornographic moan....

obviously a boob guy, he'll suck and manhandle your tits like there's no tomorrow

will cop a feel secretly infront of others as well LOL

also a thigh and neck guy—he'll kiss, nip, and mark you like he's marking a claim on you

definitely cums alot.... i'm sorry lmfao

dirty as fuck as well... spits in your mouth, puts his fingers in your mouth, making you suck him

taps his tip against your tongue, smearing his precum all over your lips

a big fan of sloppy toppy, grabbing your hair and face fucking you

he's tew good with his tongue... and so so messy when eating you out

will not hold back with his noises, literally slurping ???

loves loves loves overstimulation

favorite position is mating press, loves looking at where you guys connect

cusses when he cums

will crack some corny joke afterward to make you laugh,

"so... we're pretty good at this, huh?" and giggles like a schoolgirl

loves cuddling afterwards!

☆ eric cartman

definitely does grand gestures

brags to everyone about being in a relationship

"yeah, she's lucky to have me."

nobody believes that...

hates PDA in theory, but secretly loves it when you grab his hand or kiss his cheek

he'll complain, but his blushing face gives him away

sends you the most random memes and videos throughout the day as his way of saying he's thinking abt you <3

gets ridiculously competitive when it comes to impressing you

if someone else buys you flowers, he'll show up with a bouquet and stuffed animal, screaming profanities at the other person

jealousss to the max

glares daggers at everyone he perceives a threat, coming up with some sick and twisted plan is his head to take 'em down

gets super pouty when you tease him, but loves the banter between the two of you "i'm not fat, i'm big-boned and you know it!"

will absolutely demand you come over to "study", but in reality he just wants to spend time with you hehehe

has a soft spot when you baby him a little

like brushing his hair or adjusting his hoodie, he'll pretend to hate it but he's melting inside

if you're upset, he'll try to cheer you up in his own weird way...

usually a mix of crude jokes and awkward affection ??

please don't cry infront of him, he'll just panic

keeps a picture of you on his phone as his lock screen, and gets super defensive if anyone points it out

"shut up kahl! it's not even a big deal!"

gaslights the hell out of you, but eventually gives in when he realizes you'll just gaslight him back

will bring you up in any and every conversation, and doesn't care if it annoys the fuck out of his friends

proudly shows off your achievements and loudly declare that you're the bestest girlfriend in the world !

until you piss him off...

NSFW

talks a big game about being dominant and kinky

but he's secretly all about soft and sensual moments with you <3

loves loves loves being in control, rarely lets you take the lead

he needs to boost his ego somehow!

will grab your jaw to force you to look at him, his nails pressing hard into your cheeks

"awe, my poor baby is being fucked too dumb, can't even speak properly"

i'm sorry, but this man never shuts up in bed

whether it's dirty talk or low/breathy moans, he's always yapping

really mean too ):

depending on his mood, he'll either take you to pound town, or just veryy lazy sex

gets flustered if you tell him how good he's making you feel, and fails majorly covering it up

"well, duh. i'm amazing."

loves leaving hickeys—he'll mark you in places just barely hidden, so you're always reminded your his.

obsessed with the fat of your ass and tits, doesn't matter the size—he's all about kisses and touches

will 100% lose focus if you whisper in his ear

his cocky demeanor crumbles instantly, and he's completely at your mercy

gets embarrassed easily if you get too emotional, crying and pawing at his chest that you feel too good

this man does not own a single condom... he'll just pull out and paint your stomach

edges you when he's in a particularly bad mood, and only gives in when you're begging

definitely prefers receiving over giving, but likes the feeling of your walls clamping down on his fingers

asks you to stick out your tongue so he can see the load he blew LMFAOO WHY DID I WRITE THIS

i can't decide if he'd prefer doggy style or cowgirl, so ig just depends on his mood?

has a secret stash of candles or mood lighting for when things get "serious"

will deny deny deny it if anyone ever finds out.

his aftercare is surprisingly sweet— he'll tuck you in, grab snacks, and make sure you're comfortable before he starts pretending he doesn't care <3

☆ butters stotch

is THE definition of doting boyfriend

he'll write you sweet notes and hide them in your bag for you to find later

always asks for your opinion on everything

from what outfit he should wear to what movie the two of you should watch

he just wants to make you happy 😭

blushes like crazy when you compliment him, his hands fidgeting nervously as he stammers out a thank you

will call you every nickname under the sun

"sweet pie," "honeybunch," "cutie patootie"

he's so genuine it's impossible not to grab his cheeks and smile

loves holding hands—it makes him feel safe and connected to you

like stan, he'll swing your arms as you walk, grinning ear to ear

will apologize profusely for the tiniest things, even if it's not his fault

"oh, gosh, i’m sorry! did I step on your toe?"

keeps a running list of all your favorite things so he can surprise you with thoughtful gifts or dates!

if you're upset, he'll bake you cookies or cupcakes and sit with you until you feel better

"it's okay to cry, you know. i'm here."

absolutely adores cuddling, but gets super shy at first

once he's comfortable, he's wrapping you in the coziest of hugs

brings you flowers he picked from the campus quad, tied with a little ribbon

"i hope you like ‘em! i thought they were real purdy."

gets starry-eyed whenever you talk about your dreams or passions

he's your biggest cheerleader and believes you can do anything!

definitely giggles as you try to kiss all over his face

allows you to paint his nails, so you both can match

kisses your scratches/bruises whenever you get hurt, then patches you up himself

takes candid photos of you, so he'll always remember the feeling of moments with you <3

NSFW

don't let this man fool you...

he'll act all nervous and shy at first

he'll blush bright red when you undress in front of him

he'll nervously kiss every inch of your skin, murmuring soft compliments as he goes

he'll shyly ask, "is it okay if i touch you there?"

like he's not about to have you begging for him to keep going

once he realizes how much you're into it, he flips a switch

suddenly his shy little kisses turn into biting your lip

pinning you down

murmuring in a low voice, "i'll take care of you, baby"

he'll start slow, watching you squirm under his touch

but he's secretly enjoying the power of making you lose control

SLEEPER AGENT OF KINK

you think he's all soft neck kisses and hand-holding

then he's tugging your hair, love bites on your shoulder

and growling in your ear, "you like that, don't you?"

his hands, his mouth, and his cock alternate between gentle and rough to keep you on edge <3

the moans he'll let out would be so loud and unrestrained

completely enamored with your body

big fan of overstimulation

thrives on praise

eager to learn as well!!

positions where he can see everything—your expressions, your body, the way you react to his touch—drive him wild

not afraid to try something new!

and when it's all over, he's right back to his soft and sweet self

kissing your forehead and pulling you into his arms like he wasn't doing unspeakable things to you five minutes ago.

can you still guess who my favorite is... 💀 also i'm so sorry for whatever this was

#south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park main four #south park college au #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #eric cartman x reader #butters stotch x reader #south park #sp college au #south park headcanons

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magnoliapromenadegalleria · 1 day ago

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TLDR:

-People have a hard time connecting with Kant because his main motivation, Babe, is not around much.

-Kant and Bison are both guilty of lying to one another. Interested to see how they navigate their relationship now that they are both on to each other.

I've had this thought in my head since last week, but never got around to writing it down. I think part of the reason people, not me because if Kant had one fan it would be me, have such a hard time getting behind Kant's reasoning and motivation, is because we aren't that familiar with the object of said reasoning. Babe is Kant's motivation. He's the only family he's got as far as we know, and he's Babe's guardian. It's not only a question of if Kant doesn't do what Capt. Crunch does he will be sent to jail, it's if Kant doesn't do what Capri Sun does he will be sent to jail, and Babe will most likely go into the system because there's no one else. That's simply just not an option. Kant wasn't stealing cars because he liked the thrill of it, he did so because he needed to take care of his brother, and he was desperate. We joke that Kant is a terrible criminal, but I think that's the point? From the pieces that we can grasp, he was/is a criminal out of necessity after his parent's sudden death, and not just for the thrill of it. He wouldn't be in his current situation if he was great at it.

When you write it out like that, I think it makes one more empathetic to his plight but the problem is we don't really know Babe. I wrote in a previous post that Fadel and Kant are the same in different fonts. Both are protective of their brothers and will do anything to protect them, but the stark difference is we know Bison. He's a fleshed-out person and we feel bad for him. We don't know Babe. We know that he likes Shakespeare, he gets bullied, and he's Kan't brother. That's it. We go episodes without seeing him, and his absence leads one to forget that he's the main reason Kant is doing any of this at all. He just looks like a sleaze trying to stay out of jail.

With each episode, it is becoming clear that Kant is failing horribly with not becoming attached to Bison. He lies and has a healthy amount of fear of Bison, but his gestures are honest. He can't help it, he's been into Bison since before he knew what he was. He's not just sweet on Bison because he has a role to play, he's sweet on Bison period. With them living and working in such close proximity anyway, they were bound to be a thing.

But.

That's not what happened, and he can't even fully explore his feelings because this cop is threatening him and has put him in an impossible and dangerous situation with no resources or protection, Bison is a killer, and he's stressed out by both. There's definitely nuance and reasoning there with Bison, but baby boy is still incredibly lethal. Kant's head has got to be stronger than his heart and his other head, and as much as he likes Bison, he loves his brother abundantly more, and that's reasonable. He also does not know Bison. I wrote something last year while watching Only Friends about Sand and Ray's relationship that I think can be applied here. Kant and Bison are not getting the same insight into one another, for clear reasons. They're open with each other, but they are not completely honest with each other for, again, reasons.

Kant is lying to Bison, but Bison is also lying to Kant. Kant knows Bison is lying to him, but being a sweet-faced assassin is a pretty big omission. Bison is under the impression that he's killing bad people, but Kant isn't privy to that and only knows that under that pretty face with dreams and an artistic spirit with a love of cats lies a killer. Someone who could kill him and his brother and not think twice about it. Obviously not, but Kant does not know that. Someone who just as easily lies to him about a big part of his life, and with a lot more ease. Bison doesn't want to be an assassin anymore and wants to live his life, but as far we know he does not lose sleep over any of his kills, and that's still scary. Again, nuance there, I got a whole thought process on other mother raising children to be disposable assassins, but this post ain't that!

It's been touched on many times that Bison knows there's something up with Kant. He is a perceptive little thing, so there's no way he doesn't know Kant is not being truthful. Fadel has pointed out and Bison does not listen. Bison knows. Deep in his bones he's always known, but I think he didn't want to believe it because he's fallen for Kant. That may not have been the initial goal, he just wanted freedom and Kant's hot, great motivators, but dammit if he didn't fall for the guy. I have a similar theory about Kant. Let me explain, don't touch the mic, let me explain. Kant knows Bison's other occupation. Capt told him what was up and he hasn't been completely comfortable around Bison because he knows this information, but I don't think it really clicked for him until he went into Bison and Fadel's secret room. Not because he didn't believe it, but because he didn't want it to be true. I think he wanted Capt. to be wrong about this because he's fallen for Bison too, and not only that, he's falling deeper despite all that. Which is a terrifying revelation. And Bison protected his brother twice now? Kant might be better at keeping himself than the other three, and he might be lying to himself out of self preservation, but he's just as gone. Now that both know about the other, I'm so ready for them to finally be truthful and truly lay themselves bare without deceit between them.

...This got away from me, but whatever.

One last thing! I think this scene above is after all truths and betrayal are out in the open because that looks like a taxi, probably stolen, Kant looks like he might be wearing some sort of uniform that hides his tattoos, and Bison is wearing a hat to hide his identity. Okay, I'm done.

#the heart killers #the heart killers series #the heart killers the series #kantbison #kant thk #bison thk #firstkhao

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mapoeggplant · 1 day ago

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skip to loafer chapter 66 analysis // spoilers

the school trip is over, but the changes are not yet: chapter 66 is full of cute moments that remind us how skip to loafer likes to treat its characters with great affection, leading them to a much brighter and gentle future.

i really love chapters like this one, where we have the famous “conversation between the girls vs conversation between the boys”. it’s very clear to me how sensei has fun using a lot of the adolescence and innocence of her characters to explore such cute and fun moments like this one, and i'm very grateful for that.

i think there is nothing better than starting the discussion by focusing on the girls! it is so good to see the four of them so comfortable with each other. this moment of them all together sharing a bed reminded me a lot of when they all went to mitsumi's hometown and gossiped all night. it is cute moments like these that we will remember forever as we grow up and lose the freedom we had when we were young, so i am very happy that they have the opportunity to experience something that they will carry inside their hearts for as long as they live.

i also really like seeing how mitsumi is gradually opening up and becoming more and more adventurous. i never would have imagined that such a responsible and rule-following girl would agree to meet her friends even after curfew. of course, it wouldn't be such a peaceful moment without the stress of finding one of the teachers on patrol, but the fact that mitsumi got carried away and ran away with the girls already shows how she has been letting herself be carried away by the lightness of life.

it's beautiful to see how they understand each other so well and are always willing to face anything together — and “together” has to be the highlighted word for this episode. just like makoto said, whether it's running through the hallways or getting scolded, what matters is that they are facing everything side by side, without leaving anyone behind.

meanwhile, in another room, shima is cornered by his friends, especially mukai, who knows exactly everything that has happened for some time now. seeing shima getting involved with mitsumi again awakens in him a concern that is both new and old: old because he has already had a similar conversation with shima and knows about all of his doubts and complex feelings; new because, for him, it is as if shima is once again getting involved in something selfishly and without thinking much about the consequences. what he did not expect is that shima has changed much more than he himself imagined.

it is very good and gratifying to see how shima has been changing so much in this last arc. he has been increasingly true to himself and increasingly builds a desire to change his own relationship with his past. in my opinion, i believe that he is not only looking for a way to forgive everything that happened to him and finally accept that he does not have to carry as much guilt as he believes, but that he also sees a new life in his future without having to be completely tied to what happened in his past. he no longer wants to hide everything that happened and wear a mask, but rather forgive what happened for the sake of a future where he can be the one he seeks to be.

and this is also reflected in the way he treats two people around him: mitsumi and his mother.

in the previous chapter, we had the chance to understand a little more about how shima understands his relationship with mitsumi and how he believes she sees/understands him. of course, there is still a very foggy barrier that makes it very difficult for him to truly understand and see everything with greater clarity, but little by little, i believe that the kindness that mitsumi sees in him will begin to be much stronger than the contempt he feels for himself, giving him the opportunity to take care of himself with more affection.

or rather: not only to himself, but also to everyone around him. and i believe that this has been happening little by little, since i see a lot of potential and growth in his plea to mukai, so that his friend will once again trust him and believe his words when he says that, from now on, he will no longer face his relationship with mitsumi with so much hesitation or fear.

now, the grand finale of this chapter, for me, involves the second person i mentioned earlier: shima finally manages to face his mother, but not in the way we readers expected. i always saw many people (myself included) expecting shima to face his mother in a much more firm and direct way, using the same aggressiveness and defensiveness that he used every time he talked to her before. i really believed that he would question everything she made him go through and would place much of the blame on her, but of course acting like that would make no sense after so many changes that shima has faced in the last few chapters.

inviting his mother to the next school festival not only shows that he is ready to start a new phase of his life with her, but it is also a way of showing her that he is much more willing to understand all of her reasons instead of questioning them aggressively. he no longer wants to keep their terrible relationship alive or point fingers, but rather to start something new and without so much pain, just like he did when he finally returned to the theater and found his passion again.

i believe that, from now on, there is a huge chance for shima's relationship with his family to improve and grow in a more positive way. i think that, in the future, we will finally have a chapter focused on his mother, where she opens her heart more to this son that she hurt so much, having a redemption arc for the sake of a healthier relationship with shima. i also think that we are close to seeing shima being even more open with little keiri, which fills my heart with joy.

and well, to finish, i think that all this change that we saw in volume 11, this hopeful beginning for volume 12 and the back cover of volume 11 being composed by chris and ririka, shows that these two will be the next people to have a greater focus, bringing even more light to shima's past and much more clarity so that he can walk towards a brighter future. this is all a guess, of course, but it would be perfect for me, since i love both of them and can’t wait to dissect them a little bit more.

well, i do believe i will talk more about chapter 66 before the release of chapter 67, but for now, that's all i have to say!!! thank you so much for reading and for having the patience with me, it means a lot 💛 don't forget to buy vol 11 and chapter 66 on comic days!!!!!

#skip to loafer #skip and loafer #shima sousuke #iwakura mitsumi #skip to loafer chapter 66 #skip to loafer spoilers #stl spoilers #skip and loafer spoilers #duckmetas

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theredpharaoah · 20 hours ago

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Reading comprehension is at an all time low. You way too in your feelings over my lil Merthur post. Fanfiction wasn’t part of my argument brain trust. I brought that up in regards to her finding out about Merthur from TikTok. I never said anything about fanfiction providing evidence for this ship in the show. No one knows their character better than the actors and they interpreted their characters as being attracted to one another. The writers also interpreted it that way. Where was I nasty to Gwen? I’ve never had a problem with Gwen. I’m a fem black individual myself - I loved Gwen. I wanted them to do more with her and they did not. I literally stated that just as Merthur is the dominant ship in the fandom, Morgwen is right there next to it.

Ok, let’s talk about Gwen and Arthur’s marriage….it ain’t shit to say cuz it gave nothing. It was boring, stale, and Arthur never seemed to care for her as much as he did Merlin. And I never said Gwen and Arthur’s relationship was fake. The OP said that BOTH Merlin and Arthur liked Gwen. Which is why I specifically said that Gwen and Merlin’s little bit of attraction in season 1 gave “girl falls in love with gay boy because she thinks he’s sweet and charming”.

Pump the brakes. Who the fuck is going ”uwu”? I am not one of these lil smol bean bitches you used to dealing with on this app. We could meet up in real life and see what you really about, trust. You have a difference in opinion and that’s fine, but you ain’t have to come up in here being disrespectful. Furthermore, I didn’t diminish, replace, insult or ignore Gwen. But if I wanted to do that, I damn sure would do that and ain’t shit you could or would do about it. Know that.

Now on to the next one:

Nobody ever said or thought “Arthur was just using Gwen for her womb”. Please keep your assumptions and bullshit to the people you know and not me. I never said the authors didn’t write that they were in love. They TOLD us that on multiple occasions. But when it comes to writing it’s better to show and not tell. If you have to do the latter then usually there’s something wrong with the writing. The subtext(because yes, that does exist. Shocking I know.) reads Merthur. And that makes sense since that was what the writers intended. There’s some shit on one of the Blue rays where a writer literally says it’s a love story between two men. It’s as platonic as Xena and Gabrielle. I said Gwen doesn’t have chemistry with anyone and I was mostly talking about Merlin and Arthur. But no I don’t think she had much chemistry with anyone because I don’t think her character was ever developed all that greatly to begin with. She’s a side character. This whole conversation is hilarious because you two are both working off of these crazy ass assumptions. The main one seems to be that I’m some white person when I’m not only black and fem, but an anthropologist and philosopher who primarily studies race/gender and spirituality religion - specifically in relation to black peoples mostly. My entire life revolves around me being black and fem. So go on ahead and miss me with all this “all the white boy characters are just so lovable” shit, cuz that was never in my thought process. Again, never stated that the Merthur subtext was diminishing anything. I simply stated that it was clear that Merthur was the ship of the show. And again, the writer and I believe Katie said on the season 5 tape that the show was a love story between Merlin and Arthur. I never lied about the canon material. I stated how I saw Merlin and Gwen’s relationship in season one. You are attributing a bunch of shit to a short and quick post that was never even stated. Again, where is it even implied I said omegaverse fanfiction was canon? I specifically brought that up in relation to her saying she learned about Merthur from TikTok. It was the usual “Yall wasn’t there in the trenches with us” type of statement. Both you sorry ass hoes need to learn how to read. Maybe print out the post next time and annotate it or something. Idk. Yall are referring to a bunch of shit that was never said by me. Both of you are working entirely off of assumptions about me that are not at all true. The first fool said some “uwu ships wars are dumb” shit and you over here talking about white boys and “we gays”. Keep it cute cuz I’m definitely the bitch to make it ugly. I am NOT one of them smol bean bitches. Metaphorically speaking; the only trigger warning you gon get from me is the sound of the bullet firing.

You started with a good premise but now I think you’re actually insane. Merlin and Arthur had tension from day one. I was a child and I knew they were gay for one another. Gwen didn’t have chemistry with anyone - least of all Merlin. Merlin wasn’t interested in Gwen at all. Season 1 read as when the girl falls for the gay boy cuz he’s so nice and sweet. The actors shipped Merthur. The writers shipped Merthur and they wanted the fandom to ship Merthur. The only reason they probably didn’t explicitly put it in the show was because of the time we were in. The writers and fandom have always been gay af. Because right next to Merthur is Morgwen and after that, Gwen/Lancelot. This is not at all an example of what you’re talking about. Also, TikTok? Did you just start watching the show? Watch it again please. And then watch it another time. Like we were reading/writing Merthur fanfic in 2008. I was on mf livejournal reading A/B/O dynamics Merthur fanfics. Hello??!!! Like maybe it’s because I’ve been in this fandom for over a decade - Merthur was my first fandom - but I’m literally so affronted and flabbergasted. How do you even-

#merthur #merlin #who tf are you bitches talking to #I fight in real life #imma say uwu when I stump ya bitch ass out #never hated Gwen - loved her actually #I ain’t never said a white boy character was lovable.#what Bey say? I’m still a creole banjee bitch from Louisian #I will tell you to kys and laugh my ass to sleep

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petriwriting · 22 hours ago

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Resentment - Theodore Nott X reader

summary: Y/N gets jealous when Theodore has a really beautiful herbology project partner.

A/N: They/them pronouns. Implied female reader, but not important. Jealous!Theo & Reader. Cormac Mclaggen being a shit head. and slightly toxic and abusive. Gryffindor Vs Slytherin love triangle (sort of)

Her long curls fell down her back perfectly. Sweet perfume filled the room, something with notes of rose, bergamot and cedar. Manicured thin fingers held a quill and took notes. she smiled, and laughed as if she were in a movie. He was wealthy, athletic and came from a prestigious pureblooded family. She was everything. Slytherins It girl. she was popular and the type of girl who was always nice, even to the Gryffindors and non-purebloods. Her name was Astoria Greengrass. Even her name had a nice ring to it, sounding just as perfect as her appearance.

She was fortunate enough to be paired with Theodore for the herbology class you shared, Theodore had been your long-time crush since you were children, but as you both grew more mature and time passed, It was somewhat evident he may not feel the same, as you had hoped. The two of you maintained a very playful, and flirty in nature relationship, but both parties kept it to a minimum, scared of teetering over the edge that would dileniate friends from lovers. a line that you felt was often blurred with the boy. But now, Theodore seemingly had eyes for another.

The professor went on about poisonous plants and their uses in magic, potions and tinctures. You day dreamt about putting wolfsbane in Astoria's coffee, in a jealous rage. Maybe you had learned something in that class afterall. You were rightfully upset. She tossed her head back and laughed at Theodore's every joke, and smacked his arm playfully. They would make the perfect couple, though it was sad to admit. both were young and attractive slytherins. You thought you surely didn't stand a chance against her. It was good though that your own class partner was jotting down notes. It was a nerdy hufflepuff boy, who asked questions a lot and kept pushing his glasses back up on his face.

You seethed in anger as you watched what was unfolding, watching the two closely the entire class period. Once class was over, you scurried away quickly. You just wanted to scream into your pillow, it wasn't fair at all. You huffed, rushing back to your dorm, and of all people to run into...Thud.

"I am so sorry," It is Cormac Mclaggen. His blonde hair, and strong jawline, boyish figure, now all standing in front of you.

"It's alright," you utter softly. the boy helps you gather your books that had scattered across the floor, your hand brushed yours and you swear you saw him flush. 'Are you headed back to your dorm?"

The question caught you off guard. Was it that obvious you were going back there to cry, eat chocolate and be alone?

"Yes, actually." you said finally. "May I walk you?" he asks. You shook your head at first, it would have been a polite no but you could use the company, and It never hurt to be seen with someone for once.

"Very well then. Shall we?" He asks, holding your books for you. It was odd that someone like him would even consider speaking to someone like you, coming from vastly different cliqes with different friends. you walked forward while he matched your stride beside you. "So, Herbology, huh?" He asks to break the ice, seeing your herbology textbook at the top of the stack of textbooks.

"Yes, It's been rough." you admit. "Just remembering all the herbs and which ones are poison and which ones are healing." you continued.

"That class was a breeze for me." He says with confidence. He isn't usually the type you would attract, but he is handsome and willing to talk to you. "Oh really?" you quipped, somewhat oblivious to the obvious flirting, but playing along anyway.

"Yes," Cormac says with a smirk. "I could tutor you if you'd like?" He offers. You stop at the common room entrance, he passes your books over to you. "That would be really nice, actually." you said. "I'd appreciate that."

Cormac nods, shifting his focus to you. "Meet me in the library tomorrow afternoon then? We can go over some material." you smiled softly. "Its a date then." you said, quickly correcting yourself. "Well, not really a date, date. But you know what I mean." you reply.

"Its a date." he nods with a wink and a smirk and then wanders off. you enter common room and then past the students sitting there leisurely. You enter to sanctuary of the dorm, finally. Did you just schedule a date? I guess If your longtime crush decided it was time to move on, there was nothing stopping you from doing the same.

. . . . . .

The next day, the afternoon came quickly. You appeared in the library early, before lunchtime to study on things on your own. Little did you know you would run into a certain someone and his 'friend'. Of course, as soon as you heard Astoria's effortlessly attractive laugh, your heart sank into your stomach. The mood you were in faded, and you couldn't stop thinking about Theodore.

You wanted to prance over there and tell her off in front of Theo, but you knew causing a scene would just make you look like a fool and word would spread, followed by rumors. So you stayed in your seat, taking notes for the textbook you were looking through, copying the illustrations and writing down key-words.

The laughter was like a melody, filling the air and piercing through the silence of the library, it was heard above the quiet chatter, and when you looked back with a glare your eyes caught Theodore's. You stared for a moment, and then looked away. Astoria was suddenly quiet again. You decided to play the game right back at him.

Cormac Mclaggen approached your corner of the library, and you smiled, standing to greet him with a hug, the confused, but not complaining boy embraced you tightly and you giggled. "Thank you for doing this." you whispered.

Mclaggen was clueless to your antics, just wanting a date and to study.. or so you had thought. The flirting was amped up to the max, and absolutely no studying got done that afternoon. Cormacs hands reached lower... past your lower back.

(Theodore's POV in italic.)

When I locked eyes with them in the library I knew. I knew that I had ruined my chances. I turn to my classmate and family friend, Astoria. The other Slytherins would be deathly embarrassed for me if they knew I had asked the girl for help. Despite my reputation as a flirty 'bad boy' as some would say, I knew this relationship was different, It didn't feel like just a crush, and I wanted to get things right. So Astoria was helping me flirt. She was pretty, sure and could have any guy she wanted, which is what made her the perfect qualified expert to seek help from.

"Girls like when you sit close to them," Astoria had told me, tossing her long hair behind her ear. "You'll know if she likes you if she plays dumb at first, classic move. and," Astoria explains. "They'll laugh obnoxiously loud at everything you say. Like this." she erupts in a thunderous laugh, she's faking it, but I don't think anyone can really tell. I sigh.

"Alright," I say. "What about if they aren't... so direct?" I ask her, uncertain. The person I had eyes for didn't seem like the type to giggle at my every word just because I was giving them attention, it seemed superficial. "Well," she begins with her lips pursed. "Then you'll have to be yourself if the classics don't work." She says. I'm unconvinced, I'm not the best at talking beyond flirting. and they are important to me.

"It's just like I told you in Herbology," Astoria says. "Being yourself will work once you've flirted and played a little. Make them chase you." she says matter of fact. I snicker, I know her secret, and that her tactics don't work on the one boy here she has eyes on. "Is that what you're doing with Draco?" I ask her, she flushes red and fingers the ends of her hair, a nervous habit. I noticed she did it when she spoke to him, so maybe even the experts get nervous.

"noo!" she exclaimed. "I try and be nice to him," she explains. "He's been through a lot." she frowns. "Sure, Astoria." I say her name very promptly. "That doesn't matter, I'm trying to help you remember?" she says. "Oh I remember." she chuckles again. "You are unbelievable Nott. so, Who is the lucky girl?" she asks.

This is the part where I looked up to meet their eyes. We locked eyes for a moment, I was mesmerized. Enamored. But then I see that Mclaggen and his bloody arse is hugging them. My blood begins to boil, I want to lunge forward and hex him, but I stay in my seat quietly. "It doesn't matter." I say. "We need to leave." I Say promptly. "Oh, ok." Astoria frowns again, softly gathering her things and following me out of the library in a rush.

. . . . . .

In the following few weeks it was now an official school-wide rumor that Theodore Notts' new girlfriend was Astoria Greengrass. There were even rumors from the Gryffindors that you were Cormac's new arm candy. It upset you, greatly. So you had been playing along and letting Cormac take you on dates and to honeydukes. You'd been doing all the things couples do, without the label.

You figured it didn't matter considering Theo had a new girlfriend. You had wanted to tell him how you felt, and you were so close too, until all this happened. Almost everywhere you saw him in passing he was with her and the other Slytherins. You avoided them specifically to avoid the conflict.

You were walking yourself to class when Cormac popped up, you tried to hide your dismay, you wanted to roll your eyes and scoff but you faked it instead. Cormac was clingy, and could be very pushy at times. "Hi love." he said with a smirk. You hated when he called you that. "Hello." you said quietly. "Will you be at my quidditch game later today?" He asks. you stop in your tracks. "Tonight?" you confirm. "Yep. you know where," he winks. "I have my Jersey from last year for you to wear from the stands." He says, pulling out a Gryffindor Quidditch Jersey that hasn't been washed and smells like sweat and cologne. You stared at the filthy cloth.

"Well, I have plans tonight." you said. it wasn't a lie, you did forget about his stupid game. Cormac looked at you like a lost, orphaned puppy you had just kicked. you sighed, not wanting conflict to arise. "I guess I can make it work." you said finally, grabbing the nasty shirt and holding it out. "right on!" Cormac cheers for himself. "I'll see you this evening." He says, kissing the side of your head and then rushing off into the halls to be with his buddies.

You wanted to scream, as you walked back towards your dorm. You needed a nap to clear your head. Cormac could be a great boyfriend, for someone who liked half-beaten flowers that were bearly alive, cheap jewelry, Honeydukes chocolates (Not even the kind you liked..) and for someone who liked to be smothered. You had to put an end to it before it got worse, and before he started to catch actual feelings, but you liked the attention and felt less empty, so you stayed around.

As you made it to your dorm you laid down in defeat, tossing the dirty jersey onto the floor. No way you were wearing that this evening. You'd wear a warm coat and your house scarf like you had planned.

. . . . . .

When the evening came around, you gathered around and got ready with your dorm mates, helping each other pick outfits and making sure your hair was perfect, It was a cute moment. Something heartwarming and refreshing before you would inevitably have to stand in the cold stands during a quidditch game, the one you didn't even want to attend. you hadn't even been thinking about how Theo would be there as well, until you remembered out of nowhere. It made you even more upset. But eventually you'd have to stop avoiding him and just be happy for the boy.

You just wanted a good fun evening, without unrequited love on your mind. You pushed Theodore to the back of your mind, for now. You tried to be present in the moment, just enjoy the time you had with your friends, no drama, no bullshit.

as you approached the quidditch stands, students were slowly filling the stands, Slytherin against Gryffindor. Both very... Passionate houses. you were hoping you'd blend in, without the obnoxious jersey you didn't bother wearing. Students chattered, the roar slowly growing louder until the start of the game. The cold air was nipping at you, piercing your exposed skin. You shivered slightly, hoping it wouldn't snow that evening. You chatted with your friends, who accompanied you.

Once the game began, everyone lined up in position. It started off slow, with Gryffindor in the lead, nearing to a tie. You watched as player flew past you on their broomsticks, an entertaining affair. Your eyes tried to ignore Theodore, but he looked so handsome in his Slytherin quidditch robes.. you couldn't help but feel warmth on your cheeks. You were pulled out of your dreamy state when Cormac waved for you, blew you a kiss and made a heart with his hands. you sank back into your seat on the stands, it was embarrassing. Your friends teased you about it making kissy noises. You hoped the Golden Snitch would be captured already to save you the torment.

Slytherin and Gryffindor were now tied, it was a race now. Both houses were incredible competitors, especially for each other. You secretly hoped Gryffindor would lose so you wouldn't have to celebrate with Cormac later, you felt bad for not liking him, and for stringing him along. You are lost in your own thoughts, despite the large crowd, the chatter and cheering.

You should have thought that sooner, Because that's exactly what happened. Gryffindor lost, by a very close call. Slytherins in the crowd cheered loudly, a roar of applause and laughter. A relief for you. You watched from the stands as everyone cheered for Theodore and his team, Cormac looked pissed off, in some side huddle with the rest of his team just under the stands out of view. You hurried down from the stands to the field, your hands were like ice cubes despite the fingerless gloves. You were surprised not to see Astoria lingering near...

"Hey!" Theodore calls for you. "Congrats on winning tonight, Nott." You said playfully, breaking the ice finally. while upset, you still cared for him. His eyes still made you feel warm and his scent was enough to make you weak in the knees. "Owe it all to the team." He says, running his fingers through his hair. "Non-sense, you did great out there. Best playing I've seen in a long time." You quipped, a sharp exhale escaping your chest as you saw Cormac wander over. Total eye roll.

He threw his arm around you, as if you were his property. You pushed his arm away and gave you a sharp look. "That your boy?" Theodore asked harshly, biting his lip in restraint. "What?" you questioned, realizing what he had meant. "No, no." you said quickly.

Cormac's cocky expression dropped to a cold one. "Excuse me?" he asked you dramatically. "Don't be ridiculous. Let's get out of here." he said. When you shook your head, clearly uncomfortable, Cormac grabbed the center of your upper harm, with a stern tight grasp. You gasped gently, the squeeze was painful as you struggled against him.

"Let me go!" you snapped at him, That is when Theodore stepped in and grabbed his wrist as he tried to reach for you again after you had struggled out of his grasp. "They said to let them go." he seethed through his teeth.

Cormac scoffed loudly. "Is he the reason why you refused to wear MY Jersey?" He looked at you, standing behind Theodore. He had said questionable things to you, but you were scared now that he had gotten physical with you. "Stay away from me," you snapped at him. "I should have never spoken to you."

Cormac laughs, had he had his wand with him he would have tried to hex the both of you. Unfortunately, he didn't have it. He hesitated for a moment and then swung on Theodore, luckily, like a cat his movement was swift and he was able to dodge. This only made Cormac angrier. "You son of a-" Cormac had tried to lunge forward, but your emotions and frustration got the better of you now, and you had stepped forward and kneed him hard in the crotch. The boy cowered in pain immediately, and you stood there for a moment, some of the slytherins cheered for you, some stared in shock, others were amused. your face went red, and then the tears threatened to spill over so you ran off.

In the evening cold, the snow had began to fall as the sun set over the school. You had ran through the corridors to find someplace private, landing on an empty corridor on the far end of school grounds. Immediately, the tears began to fall. You felt so stupid you had let Cormac Mclaggen of all boys embarrass you like that. and in front of the only boy you've ever wanted? That was just social suicide. You were crying not just because of that but because of how scary the situation was, now you'd be targeted by Cormac and his group. You wanted nothing to do with him from the start, you just wanted to make Theo jealous and to make yourself feel less alone.

You choked out another sob and you steadied your breathing.

. . .

I saw them there, after leaving my quidditch gear behind on the field. they looked so saddened and I couldn't bear the thought of that low life bloke ever hurting them. I wanted to hug them, tell them it was all going to be okay. They were sobbing, and my heart shattered. I knew I would find them here. I said their name tenderly, gently. They quickly brushed the tears away from their eyes and looked at me. "I'M sorry about all that." I say softly. "Is everything okay?" I ask.

They take a long breath and open up, finally. "Cormac hasn't been the greatest to me," They admit. I knew that much. "We aren't dating, by the way." they said. I sighed, and placed a hand over theirs in reassurance. Even with puffy eyes and restlessness they still looked breathtaking to me. "I was using him to make you jealous." They said. I swallowed in confusion.

"Why me?" I asked, I sounded like a desperate fool. I just wanted to make sure they were okay, no matter who they were with. "Because," They said. I sigh, not wanting to pry any further.

I finally speak up after a short silence. "You know... I really like you." I said finally. My heart is racing but it feels so good to say out loud. I anxiously anticipate their response. They look at me in confusion, which confuses me... "I thought you were seeing Astoria Greengrass." they asked me. I chuckle lightly at the thought, She's not my type, and very much into Draco. "No, no I am not." I say in disbelief. Its starting to make sense now, I supposed to an outsider my little secret deal with Astoria could be mistaken for a relationship. "She's only being friendly with me so she can get closer to Draco." I explain. "I had this deal with her... I would set her up with him if she would help me impress you." I say, it feels like spilling my guts. "I hope it worked." I add after a second.

"I had no Idea you felt that way about me." They say. "Being with you is all I've ever wanted since I met you." I admit sheepishly. "I just have never had any idea what to do with this feeling, It's strong and new for me." I continue. Oh, Merlin. Stop. Talking. though mentally scolding myself, and before saying anything stupid I take another step closer to them, inches from their face. They give me such a gentle and loving gaze it makes me feel warm and loved. I close the distance, embracing lips with them in a gentle embrace.

. . .

You were taken back by the kiss but embraced it, enjoying every second of the moment. Your hands felt up to the nape of his neck and into his hair, while his found their way to your lower back. You pulled back after a moment, embarrassed that you looked like a mess from the crying. "Then lets do it." you said finally.

"Let's be a really good couple." you said with a girlish giggle at the thought. "Absoluetly, anything," Theo says. You gaze into his eyes in another sweet moment. It was now somewhat official, your heart was fluttering and you felt butterflies congregate in your chest. An amazing feeling.

#reader insert #my writing #x reader #hp x reader #slytherin x reader #hp #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott #harry potter

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pxuvalentinx · 1 day ago

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Punishment | Luka x Fem!Reader

After some issues, your 'secret relationship' with Luka got revealed by the Aliens. The both of you had expected a harsh punishment, and that you got - just a little different than initially expected. warnings » fem!reader, worshipping, voyeurism, sort of public sex?, toy usage, bondage, overstimulation, orgasm denial, a ruined pair of pants, came untouched? also sort of again, very little mentions of death, torture and so on, body parts going numb

Luka wasn’t a weak man…but, oh, the man he became when it came to you? How could he not worship the ground that you walk on? What kind of man would he be, if he didn’t do anything for his pretty little girlfriend. Your entire relationship was a secret thing, no one could know, no one would ever know. Or so you thought.

But god, if you would’ve known what they’d do to the both of you as soon as they found out? Maybe your little relationship would’ve been a tad more public.

Aliens loved one thing — they loved to torture their humans or so called pets. Make them do stuff solely for the alien’s pleasure, treat them as their slaves, punish and push them till death was near. The both of you had overstepped a line, disobeyed a rule, an important one as it is. So punishing you was only fair, right?

This was only fair, you thought, or at least you tried, as the little bud on your clit made you squirm and thrusts your hips in the air without even knowing. Legs were tied to both the armrests of the chair you sat on.

Well sort of.

Actually you sat on the comfy lap of your pretty blonde boyfriend. His arms tied together behind the chair, while his legs were tied to the chair itself. His rock hard boner was long forgotten, at least by you, but Luka could feel his boner so well, it was like he forgot how to feel anything else. All of your senses were overwhelmed as you chased your high, for what felt like the 5th time tonight. While the blonde hadn’t cum once, understandably frustrated by now.

The also long forgotten audience of aliens in front of you, would make fascinated sounds whenever you let out a particularly high pitched moan, or again, squirted all over your boyfriends pants. All eyes on the two of you.

Luka has never been this whiny before. Who would’ve thought this charming man could turn into such a pathetic boy, once he’s being denied of what he loves the most. All he could do was bite into your neck, lightly thrust his hips up for any kind of friction. But it wasn’t enough. No, he just couldn’t cum like this. It was driving him crazy. All he wanted was to feel your honeysweet warmth engulf him, take him in and finally let him fuck all that pent up energy out. The blonde's head was spinning, he felt like he was gonna die if he didn't get any relief soon.

You cursed out his name over and over again. A hint of guilt washing over you considering how you took all the pleasure for yourself, even though there wasn’t really another option. “Ughh…gonna…fffuckk..cumming again!” Your words were like a soothing song to his ears. No matter how bad he wanted to finish, hearing you cum like this, was just getting him one step closer to his own release.

The buzz of the vibrator ran through your whole body by now. Your once intelligent brain turning into mush. “Have such a beautiful lady…on top of me..haaah..” He cooed at you. Luka sounded so out of breath. You bet on everything, he looked so good right now. Covered in beads of sweat, his eyes almost teary, while his usually neatly kept hair was a mess.

After your orgasm had successfully washed over you, your hips went limb. The pool between your legs, including the vibrator strapped against it, was now engulfing the blonde’s bulge. Luka’s hips immediately jerked up, he was chasing that pleasure, chasing the friction that little vibrator provided him. Oh, and just in that moment, Hell let loose inside of him. Built up saliva slowly ran down his chin, his mouth wide agape. At the sudden change in his behavior, you slowly turned your head back.

His clothed dick repeatedly bumped against your entrance and clit covered by the vibrator. If you hadn’t been so terribly overstimulated, this might’ve been heaven. “Oh…Oh! My pretty Darling….Shit..Oh gonna cum…gonna finally…!” And that’s when he went still. His bulge firmly pressed against your cunt, as he ruined his pants. God, and he was coming loads. All that built up tension releasing all at once. In between your hazy thoughts, you could hear the crowd of aliens cheering, almost over-sounding Luka’s ragged breaths in your ear. You felt his legs tremble, the overwhelming pleasure slowly fading.

In all this shock, overstimulation and pleasure, you didn’t even notice that the buzzing had stopped. It allowed you and Luka to catch your breath. It was finally over? You hoped. Maybe you could finally take a warm bath and soot-

bzzzz Oh.

#x reader #smut #drabble #luka alnst #alnst luka #luka x reader #luka alien stage #luka alnst x reader #luka alien stage x reader #alien stage x reader #alnst x reader #what am i doing

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mahou-furbies · 1 day ago

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First impressions on Champignon Witch

This manga isn't really magical girls, but there is a witch in it (duh) and no way I'm not gonna talk about it. I saw this in a compilation of anime that's coming out in 2025 and from the promo art alone I knew this was going to be my manga (from the mushroom witch hat with ornate decorations), and so far it has lived up to expectations.

The story is set in a fairytale style world, where the black witch Luna lives in her little mushroom house in a forest with her magic familiars, and makes various powerful medicine out of poisonous mushrooms. People fear and hate her because she emits poison, and even the few merchants who will do business with her and treat her in a friendly way wear protective items around her and will scrub clean everything she has touched after she leaves. Luna continues to create medicine for the townspeople though, because she has few other ways to feel connected to other people outside seeing everyone all happy about the anonymous source's cures, even if she knows that nobody would want them if they knew they came from the poison witch. Also unbeknownst to the normies the poison she radiates is actually beneficial, because she involuntarily sucks up this vague evil bad vibe energy around her, and turns it into a more manageable form.

The first volume or so is spent following Luna's life, and it isn't until later when she finds the turbo poisoned boy Lis, somewhat cures him and takes him as an apprentice that the main story actually starts. The council of the black witches wants to kill him, because it is speculated that his poisoning will eventually take over and he'll cause large scale ruination, and only allow a limited time for Luna to teach him to manage his own poison.

I like how the whole series has a rather somber tone, which mostly comes from the characters wanting and failing to be close to one another, and trying to make peace with having to give up on someone. Like Luna has lost several of her black witch friends to witch hunt executions. The story also has a difficult relationship with love, since love is "poisonous" to black witches and messes up their magic, and also Luna has to live in isolation anyway. But it doesn't seem like this is a "love conquers all" kind of romance, because it has a side character give a speech on how it's condescending of outsiders to think that life without love is somehow incomplete.

I really like Luna, aside from the lovely character design she also has sweet quiet personality and it's easy to root for her to get through her self esteem troubles. I also like that she is already an experienced witch at the start and not a newbie who is baffled by everything. I'd say my biggest complaint about the story is that lately it has been a lot more about characters other than Luna, I wish she'd come back to the spotlight soon!

Since Luna's character design is what drew me to this in the first place, I was extremely happy that she wears a lot of memorable "medieval fantasy" type outfits. Quite many of them in fact, she has a new one almost every chapter! And sometimes multiple in the same chapter! And you know how I often like to draw collections of animu outfits with the character standing there in a neutral pose, here the author has done my job for me because almost every chapter ends with a good reference image full body pics of the major characters' new clothes! Even the ones that only appear once on a cover! It's like this was made for me.

Finally it should be mentioned that eventually Lis falls in love with Luna; it's somewhat complicated how old he is because he keeps getting aged down by magic so he is chronologically older than how he looks (and so is Luna for that matter, this is a "magic people stop aging" kinda series), but if that's a dealbreaker to you then maybe steer clear.

#champignon witch #champignon no majo #first impressions

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peachhcs · 2 days ago

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macklin asking only like a week after they see each other again to hang out and they go to the beach or something, something calm and quiet but something they missed

this was actually so so cutie to write :))) adding in more lore about blaire’s relationship with her brothers, so expect that to be a pretty big plot point and the way blaire is the way she is being so closed off and reserved sometimes

au masterlist

mack didn’t really know what too soon was but a little over a week after they saw one another again, they were going to the beach to hang out on one of mack’s days off. he figured the beach was good because they didn’t have to talk if they didn’t want to, but there were always good conversation starters around as people walked by. either way, blaire agreed to going to the beach with him and the brunette couldn’t be more excited.

he saw her in her car when he got there. she quickly waved when he pulled in next to her and the brunette flushed, returning her cute little grin. they met around the back of their cars after climbing out, “hi,” macklin smiled softly.

“hi. i haven’t been to the beach in so long, so i’m glad you suggested this. it’s such nice day,” blaire kicked her back hatch open to grab her beach bag and beach chair.

“i know, i can’t believe how nice it is for october,” he followed her lead down the beach.

“how was your game last night? i saw you guys finally had a win,” blaire glanced back at him and the boy’s face flushed at the idea of her watching his game.

“it was really good actually. our first win of the season, so it felt really nice.”

blaire found them a spot halfway down the beach where there weren’t a lot of people around. the two set their chairs up next to one another. blaire dug into her bag to find her sunscreen. “you want any?” she asked mack.

“i should probably put some on,” he laughed a bit.

“right, you burn so easily,” a giggle slipped past her lips making mack blush. she remembered so many little details about him that he thought she would’ve definitely forgot after two years.

he watched her (not in a creepy way) apply her sunscreen. when she reached her back the boy flushed thinking she was gonna ask him to help get her upper shoulders and he was right because she did, “i can’t reach the awkward middle. can you?”

mack, who tried not letting his nerves show, stepped forward and gently rubbed it into the girl’s skin. it was kind of strange to him being so relaxed around one another after literally not talking or seeing each other for two years, but mack wasn’t complaining. he was actually glad blaire still felt so comfortable around him despite them literally breaking up (and possibly finding their way back to one another.)

“i think i got it all,” the brunette mumbled, dropping his hands back to his sides.

“thank you. want me to get you?” blaire quickly offered.

now rubbing her sunscreen in for her was one thing, but her doing it for him was completely different because mack didn’t know if he’d be able to even function properly when her hands touched his bare skin.

“sure,” he said nonetheless and pulled his shirt off.

the cream was cool against his skin, he squirmed at first, but relaxed the more blaire eased her fingers into the divots of his back.

“so what else has been new with you besides becoming a big shot hockey player?” her tone had a teasing edge to it like how they used to talk to one another when they were 15. it was a good thing she couldn’t see mack’s embarrassing red blush.

“not a lot, i guess. hockey’s been taking up most of time since august,” the boy shrugged lightly.

“yeah, same with figure skating. we have competitions every weekend. when i’m not doing that i’m studying,” the girl agreed.

“you were really good the other day, by the way. i mean you’ve always been good, but..wow. i was impressed,” mack confessed and he wondered if blaire was blushing because she didn’t respond right away.

“thanks, celly. that means a lot,” blaire finally responded, her voice soft.

she moved her hand away from his back and he took that as her cue that she was done. he spun back around, meeting her soft gaze as she handed him the rest of the sunscreen.

“because we’re here you have to play mermaids with me later,” blaire grinned widely and the hockey player laughed.

“okay, deal. i love mermaids,” they shared a laugh and macklin applied the rest of his sunscreen.

for now, the two just sat out on their chairs tanning and people watching. they’d occasionally point out people walking by, but for the most part, they just caught up. the conversation flowed like they never spent any time apart. macklin talked about his year at boston university and blaire told him about her freshman year at santa clara. it sounded like both had really good years.

that feeling macklin’s had since he first saw blaire last week continued growing as the day went on. his chest tightened and exploded each time her eyes lit up when telling him a funny story from freshman year.

it was pretty obvious he’s never been over her. as much as he tried moving on and finding other girls, something always drew him back to blaire like maybe they’d reconnect one day and reconcile whatever happened between them—and surprise, surprise, he was getting that chance. the young rookie was not letting her go this time.

“how are your siblings?” blaire shifted the subject to him, feeling bad she’s done so much talking about her life and hardly asking him about his.

“they’re good. aiden’s playing hockey at boston still. rj’s playing for a little league team and charlie’s doing tennis still,” macklin explained his siblings’ whereabouts.

“i’m glad to hear they’re all doing good. carter and mason are pretty good, too. carter’s finishing high school and mason’s a senior at university of washington,” blaire hummed and macklin could hear the crack in her voice. he always knew she never had a very close relationship with her brothers because of everything that happened with their mom.

“wow, a senior already?” the rookie chuckled.

“tell me about it. he’s moving to ireland once he graduates. he found a crazy good job and he wants to be abroad for awhile,” blaire continued.

“ireland? that’s crazy. good for him.”

“yeah, it is crazy. carter’s pretty sad about it, but he’s gonna do good,” the dirty blonde hummed, her fingers tapping against the armrest of the chair. even though she didn’t say it, mack knew her better than that. he knew she was also sad about it.

“how are you feeling?” he dared to ask.

there was a pause and the boy quickly worried her overstepped by asking. “okay..i guess,” she was vague which mack expected. he wondered if he should push for more, but he didn’t wanna test his luck considering they just started talking again.

blaire kept talking though, “it kind of feels like he’s leaving because he doesn’t wanna be around us anymore though. even though our mom dying was like seven years ago, it still really affects all of us i think. mostly because none of us really processed it right, but i don’t know. mason’s never been the same since. he like hardly wants anything to do with carter and i. me specifically.”

“shit, i’m sorry. that really sucks,” mack sympathized but blaire shrugged. “it’s fine. i can’t really do anything about it. i just try not to think about it.”

a silence fell around them after that discussion. macklin stared out at the beach, suddenly grateful that at least his siblings were somewhat close even and family was still together even though attention got really divided sometimes.

“hey, i think i wanna get in the water now. you up for mermaids?” blaire stood up, clearly trying to break the tension she just created. mack smiled.

“of course,” he grinned and threw his towel off him.

he watched her slip out of her tank top and shorts, his breath hitching when he saw her in nothing but her bikini. he adverted his gaze when she looked back at him, a blush coating his cheeks. “race you?” she smirked.

macklin didn’t even get a chance to respond before she started racing towards the water. he quickly chased after her, some of the other people on the beach giving them a side eye for being so rambunctious. blaire had a pretty big lead and successfully made it into the water before mack could catch her. she dove right in, the cool water feeling good on her warm skin.

mack dove in after her. they came back up at the same time, shaking their wet hair out. “it feels so nice. i miss coming to the beach,” blaire grinned and dipped her head back.

she pushed back so she was floating on her back like a starfish. mack admired her again. the sun was reflecting off the water and onto her skin perfectly that it looked like she was glowing. she hadn’t even changed a bit—still looking like the same girl he fell in love with when they were fifteen.

they played mermaids for a good half hour which just consisted of them splashing one another and diving under the waves. they hurried back up to the beach with pruny skin, grabbing their towels to dry themselves off.

“so what are the chances you could get me tickets to your next home game?” blaire wondered as she squeezed her hair out. mack’s gaze flicked to hers, a look of surprise on his features.

“you wanna come to one of my games?”

“well, yeah. i wanna see you on the big rink with the big guys,” blaire grinned and mack was pretty sure his heart exploded right then and there.

“i can see what i can do, but chances are high,” the boy smiled back.

“good because i really wanna come. i already have an outfit in mind,” she cheesed and there was no way mack wasn’t getting her back.

the two packed up their things for the day and trudged back up towards the parking lot. mack helped blaire load her chain into her car before the two awkwardly stood in the parking lot wondering when their next hang out would be and what this was going to mean for their friendship moving forward.

“this was really fun, thanks for coming,” blaire said first.

“of course. i had a lot of fun too. we should do it again,” he smiled.

“literally just text me, i’m freeish..well, i’ll just tell you when i’m free, but it’s been really good getting to see you again. i’ve missed this,” the girl admitted shyly.

“me too. i’ve missed seeing you. i will definitely text you and let you know about the next game,” he opened his arms for a hug. blaire quickly reciprocated, stepping into his embrace that smelled like sand, salt water, and remnants of sunscreen.

“get back safe,” mack said when they pulled apart. blaire nodded and they finally got back into their cars where mack couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 days ago

Text

It was a day meant for baking—a day where the world outside could wait while warmth and sweetness unfurled inside your home, one shared with Bradley. - 🤭🤭 this is so cozy already! the way you describe the kitchen counter and all the ingredients amassed on it was so vivid, i loved it

You stood at the counter, your apron tied snugly around your waist, its cheerful pattern a perfect match to the one hanging on the hook by the door. - stop! do they have matching aprons!?! (edit: yes they do!)

For a fleeting second, he could imagine this moment stretched into a lifetime: mornings like this, evenings too, the two of you wrapped up in the ordinary magic of just being together. - the ordinary magic of just being together!!! oh my god this is so perfect, i want this! and the way the work so seamlessly and easily together without even needing to talk is so sweet

The moment felt timeless, as if the world outside had paused to give you these small, perfect moments. The soft sunlight filtering through the window, the mingling scents of butter and spice, and the steady rhythm of your hands moving together—it was all a quiet symphony of togetherness. - this is just so lovely and such pretty prose, it’s making me all warm inside like a slice of apple pie

Long, arduous flights had left him drained, but it wasn’t the exhaustion that weighed most heavily on him—it was the constant longing to be somewhere else. Somewhere with you. - bradley!!! sweet boy!! he’s got his person, his other half, the one he can bake with and not have to say anything to while also being so in love. it’s what he deserves!!!

“Thin, but not too thin,” you instructed, your voice soft but firm. “We want them to bake just right, not turn to mush.” - lol get his ass haha

It was like this kitchen, these shared moments, were a bridge between his past and present. - stop this!! perfection!

You were six. I was eight. Mom had decided we were going to bake chocolate chip cookies together—like a whole ‘family bonding’ thing. - i was just going to ask how long they’ve been together and how long they’ve known each other! really liked how it all builded to this memory!

The bond between you, so effortlessly shared in this small kitchen, felt like it had always been there, like it had been waiting to be rediscovered, one chocolate chip at a time. - the bond waiting to be rediscovered!! that’s so pretty!

"You know, I’ve always thought I’d be a Chandler in another life." - every single time i watch friends i think of bradley as chandler, they’re such a perfect match/comparison

Growing up together, you had little to no secrets from each other, but the level of domesticity being in a relationship and living together had brought you had you dreaming of a life with him, a picket fence and kids, dogs and cats, a classic life you hadn't allowed yourself to dream of. - this is everything i love about bradley fics where he’s always known the reader? this is so perfect. per your author’s note, i would love a fic about how they finally got together!

Apple Pie

pairing : bradley bradshaw x reader

fandom : top gun

synopsis : bradley helps you make your renowned apple pie and experiences and enthralling sense of domestic bliss.

a/n : merry christmas to all who celebrate! love and best wishes ❤️🎁

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The scent of smoky cinnamon hung thick in the air, weaving itself with the tartness of fresh apples and the buttery promise of a homemade crust. Sunlight spilled through the kitchen window in golden pools, catching the specks of flour dusting the countertops like freshly fallen snow. A warm breeze, heavy with the aroma of a San Diego Christmas, whispered through the open window, carrying the faint scent of the salty sea air. It was a day meant for baking—a day where the world outside could wait while warmth and sweetness unfurled inside your home, one shared with Bradley.

The marble countertop, a luxurious expanse of creamy white, veined with subtle streaks of silver and gray flowed like frozen rivers beneath its polished surface. Cool to the touch and impeccably smooth, it provided the perfect canvas for the symphony of ingredients scattered across it.

A woven basket brimmed with crimson and honey-gold apples, their skins catching the sunlight and gleaming like polished jewels. Nearby, a small glass bowl overflowed with granulated sugar, sparkling like powdered stardust. A ceramic dish held a mound of cinnamon and nutmeg, their earthy hues promising warmth with a whisper of spice. A stick of butter, softened to perfection, rested on a wooden board, its edges slightly melty, waiting to be folded into the dough. Flour spilled artfully from a linen pouch, creating soft white dunes across the counter, while a jar of amber-colored honey glowed invitingly in the light. Nestled among the ingredients, a rustic jug of heavy cream stood tall, its promise of richness tucked beneath its simple cork top. Everything was arranged with an almost reverent care, a silent anticipation lingering in the air, as if the ingredients themselves knew they were destined for something magical.

Bradley stepped through the front door, the familiar creak of the hinges blending with the faint hum of music wafting from the kitchen. The aroma hit him first—sweet apples, warm cinnamon, and the unmistakable scent of butter melting into perfection. It wrapped around him like a welcome, soft and inviting.

Rounding the corner, his gaze landed on you. You stood at the counter, your apron tied snugly around your waist, its cheerful pattern a perfect match to the one hanging on the hook by the door. The sight made his heart stumble, just for a moment. There was something about the ease in your movements, the gentle sway of your hips as you worked, that filled him with a quiet, overwhelming contentment.

The apron—a gift he’d jokingly insisted on getting a matching pair of "kiss the chef" ones looked far better on you, though he’d never admit it out loud. For a fleeting second, he could imagine this moment stretched into a lifetime: mornings like this, evenings too, the two of you wrapped up in the ordinary magic of just being together.

“You’re making me look bad,” he teased, his voice warm as he leaned against the doorway. “What happened to waiting for the sous chef?”

You turned, a smudge of flour dusting your cheek and a playful smile lighting your face. “Sous chef? I thought you’d promoted yourself to taste tester.”

Bradley grinned, crossing the room to grab his own apron. “Domestic bliss never looked so good,” he murmured, the words half to himself as he tied the strings and stepped up beside you.

Side by side at the marble countertop, you and Bradley worked in quiet harmony, the kind of rhythm that didn’t need words. His hands, large but surprisingly gentle, moved clumsily at first, pressing into the cool, pliable dough while your smaller ones guided him with a soft touch. The room was filled with the quiet, comforting sounds of baking—the scrape of the rolling pin, the faint rustle of flour against the marble, and the occasional low hum of contentment from one or both of you.

“Like this,” you murmured, placing your hands over his. Together, you smoothed the dough into an even circle, the action unhurried, almost meditative. The soft press of your palms and the steady roll of the pin seemed to draw the tension from the air, leaving behind a soothing calm that wrapped around you both.

Bradley’s brow furrowed in concentration as he followed your lead, his lips quirking into a smile whenever you corrected his grip or teased his uneven edges. “Not bad for a rookie, huh?” he said, glancing over at you with an easy grin.

You tilted your head, pretending to inspect his work. “Hmm. I’d say you’ve got potential, Bradshaw,” you replied, your tone light but your smile warm.

The moment felt timeless, as if the world outside had paused to give you these small, perfect moments. The soft sunlight filtering through the window, the mingling scents of butter and spice, and the steady rhythm of your hands moving together—it was all a quiet symphony of togetherness. By the time the crust was ready, your fingers dusted in flour and your laughter mingling in the warm air, it felt less like a task and more like a memory you’d treasure forever.

As the two of you worked, Bradley's thoughts drifted, momentarily pulling him away from the comforting rhythm of the kitchen. The past few weeks had been a blur of intensity. The rigorous training sessions, each one pushing his body to the limit, followed by the endless debriefs that stretched into the late hours of the night. His mind had been consumed with flight simulations, meticulous calculations, and the pressure of preparing for missions that came one after the other. Long, arduous flights had left him drained, but it wasn’t the exhaustion that weighed most heavily on him—it was the constant longing to be somewhere else.

Somewhere with you.

The thought of the kitchen, of this quiet domestic scene, had become his escape. There was something about the way you were always waiting for him, patient and unwavering, that had kept him going through those long stretches away. In the dead of night, when his muscles ached and his mind raced with the remnants of missions completed and ones yet to come, he’d close his eyes and think of you. The way your laughter filled the space between the two of you, the warmth of your touch, and the sense of peace that came simply by being near you.

Now, standing beside you, the stress of those weeks seemed to melt away. The world outside, with its endless demands and responsibilities, faded into the background as he watched you expertly roll out the pie crust, the soft flour drifting through the air. The connection between you both—so natural, so easy—was like a breath of fresh air, and in this small, quiet kitchen, Bradley found solace in the simplicity of the moment.

He hadn’t realized just how much he had longed for this. The mundane beauty of being with you—flour on his hands, apples scattered across the counter, and a pie coming together, was a contrast to the chaos he had been living. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

Bradley reached for the basket of apples, the crisp fruits cool under his hands. “You do the crust like a pro,” he said, flashing you a grin. “Let me see if I can redeem myself with the apples.”

“You sure about that?” you teased, handing him a knife and a cutting board. “This is precision work, Bradshaw. No room for error.”

“Challenge accepted,” he quipped, rolling up his sleeves again as he positioned himself beside you. He started slicing the apples, his cuts neat but slightly uneven. You leaned over to inspect, your hand brushing his wrist as you adjusted the angle of the blade.

“Thin, but not too thin,” you instructed, your voice soft but firm. “We want them to bake just right, not turn to mush.”

Bradley nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile as he focused on the task. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filled the kitchen, mixing with the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Each slice brought a sense of calm, as if the act of chopping apples could somehow unravel the knots left by weeks of tension.

While he worked, you measured out the sugar, pouring it into a small glass bowl with a practiced hand. You added a pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg, the warm, earthy spices swirling together in a fragrant mix. As you stirred them together, Bradley finished his pile of apple slices and slid them toward you with a triumphant flourish.

“Not bad, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with pride.

You glanced at the perfectly sliced apples, raising an eyebrow in approval. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You might have a future in baking after all.”

Bradley laughed, reaching for the measuring cup to help you portion out the rest of the ingredients. “Told you I’m a quick learner,” he said, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you a moment too long.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm again, working side by side to combine the apples, sugar, and spices. The mixture shimmered in the soft light, a glossy cascade of sweetness and warmth that seemed to mirror the mood in the room. Every step felt unhurried, every action deliberate, as if time had slowed to let you savor this rare moment of togetherness.

As the two of you worked, Bradley’s mind wandered back to his childhood, to moments long passed but never forgotten. The kitchen had always been the heart of their home, his mother standing at the counter, apron tied high, her laughter filling the space as she taught him the small rituals of baking. It was there, in that warm, familiar room, that he’d first learned how to measure ingredients and roll out dough—lessons woven with love and patience, and the comforting scent of fresh-baked treats.

He remembered how she’d guide him through each step with a gentle hand, the way she’d smile when he made a mess, and the way her eyes would light up when the kitchen filled with the aroma of their creations. She always said baking was an act of love, a way to pour a piece of yourself into something tangible. It was one of those simple truths he’d carried with him, though it had taken him a while to understand how much those moments had shaped him.

As you stood beside him now, chopping apples with practiced ease, Bradley couldn’t help but notice the similarities—the way you moved with that quiet confidence, the way your presence brought a sense of peace to everything around you. It was like this kitchen, these shared moments, were a bridge between his past and present. The rhythm of your hands working together, the soft exchange of words, and the laughter that bubbled between you felt like a new chapter in a story he never wanted to end.

His thoughts drifted back to his mom again, to the way she’d often say, “Baking isn’t about perfection, it’s about enjoying the process.”

Bradley smiled to himself, a pang of nostalgia settling in his chest. Maybe he didn’t have the luxury of those moments with his mom anymore, but with you here, in this kitchen, it was as if she had passed that same warmth and care down to you, and through that, to him. He glanced over at you, the soft glow of the afternoon sun highlighting the determined curve of your cheek as you worked, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt like it had come full circle.

Bradley set down the measuring cup, the weight of the moment hitting him like a wave. His eyes softened as they drifted to you, the sight of you so focused, so at ease, reminded him of something he hadn’t thought about in years.

“You know,” he began, his voice quieter now, “the first time I baked cookies, it wasn’t just with my mom. You were there too.”

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face. “Really? I don’t remember that.”

Bradley chuckled, his gaze distant as he leaned back slightly against the counter, recalling the memory with fondness. “You were six. I was eight. Mom had decided we were going to bake chocolate chip cookies together—like a whole ‘family bonding’ thing. You were so excited, even if you had no idea what you were doing. I remember you kept sneaking chocolate chips and shoving them in your mouth when Mom wasn’t looking.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you tried to picture little you, mischievously eyeing the cookie jar. “That sounds about right.”

Bradley’s eyes twinkled as he continued. “I was determined to be the perfect little baker, you know? Measured everything precisely—like I was some kind of culinary prodigy. But you? You just dumped everything in, flour everywhere, a bit of sugar, chocolate chips scattered around… but somehow, it worked.”

You raised an eyebrow, the playful glint in your eyes matching his. “You mean it was my chaos that made it work.”

“Exactly,” Bradley said with a grin, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mom was trying so hard to keep us on track, but you and I just ended up making the biggest mess. It was like the kitchen exploded with flour and chocolate, but when those cookies came out of the oven, they were perfect. A little rough around the edges, sure, but they tasted like heaven.”

You laughed, imagining the chaos of it all. “I bet it was a disaster, but it was probably the best cookie I’ve ever eaten.”

Bradley nodded, the warmth of the memory spreading through him. “It was. And I think that’s when I realized something important—that sometimes, the mess, the imperfections, they’re what make the moments worth it. You and I, throwing chocolate chips everywhere, Mom laughing in the background—it was a mess, but it was our mess. And I’ll never forget that.”

There was a softness in his voice now, a quiet tenderness as he looked at you. “I guess I never told you this, but I always thought about that day when I came home, every time we’d bake together.”

You met his gaze, your smile softer now, the air between you warm and intimate. “It’s funny. I don’t remember the details, but I can almost feel it—the warmth of that kitchen, the smell of the cookies, and the laughter. It’s one of those memories that’s just… there. Like it was meant to be a part of me.”

Bradley’s heart swelled in his chest, and for a moment, he felt as though the years had collapsed into something simpler, something more timeless. The bond between you, so effortlessly shared in this small kitchen, felt like it had always been there, like it had been waiting to be rediscovered, one chocolate chip at a time.

With the apple filling nestled gently into the pie crust, you and Bradley stood side by side, both silently admiring the creation before you. The last few steps had been an easy flow of action, your movements guided by the comfort of routine and the shared sense of satisfaction that came from doing something together.

Bradley wiped his flour-dusted hands on his apron and looked over at you, his smile easy and warm. "You think it'll be as good as the one from last year?"

You laughed softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "Better, if we do it right."

Together, you carefully lifted the pie, the edges of the crust golden and slightly uneven, the filling bubbling just enough to promise sweetness and warmth. Bradley opened the oven door, the heat rushing out to meet you both, and you slid the pie onto the middle rack, feeling a little thrill at how perfectly it all came together.

The kitchen filled with the soft click of the oven closing, and you stood there for a moment, the two of you watching the pie as though you could will it to perfection just by looking at it. The anticipation hung in the air, the quiet hum of the oven providing the only sound.

Bradley leaned against the counter beside you, his arm brushing lightly against yours. “I’ve gotta admit, this whole baking thing—kind of growing on me.” His voice was relaxed, content, and you could tell that the weight of the past few weeks had momentarily lifted from him.

You smiled up at him, feeling a rush of affection for the man who, despite his usual focus on flying and mission prep, had found time to make something as simple—and yet, as meaningful—as this. "I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s nice, right? Just being here… together."

Bradley nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you, then back at the oven. "Yeah. I don't think I've ever felt more at peace." His words were quiet, but they carried a depth that made you feel rooted in the moment.

For a few seconds, the room seemed to hold its breath, the scent of cinnamon and sugar beginning to rise, mingling with the warmth of the oven and the comfort of the space. In that stillness, you both knew what this was—this simple act of being together, of creating something from scratch and waiting patiently for it to turn into something beautiful.

As the pie baked away in the oven, the comforting scent of cinnamon and apples filling the air, you and Bradley exchanged a look. It was time for a well-deserved break, and after the cozy chaos of the kitchen, a few moments of relaxation felt like a gift.

"Think we deserve a little treat?" Bradley asked, pulling off his apron and tossing it onto the counter with a soft thud.

You grinned. "You mean besides the pie? Absolutely."

With a quick nod, you both headed off to your shared room, shedding the remnants of the afternoon in exchange for something far more comfortable. The soft rustle of fabric filled the air as you pulled on your favorite pajamas, an oversized t shirt that had once been Bradley's before you stole it, still soft despite the stretched out neckline from years of use, and a pair of comfortable flannel pyjama pants that were just soft enough to give you comfort, filled with memories of quiet nights just like this one. Bradley appeared moments later, also in his own set of pajamas—flannel pants and a simple black tee that made him look effortlessly at home.

"Much better," he said, tossing a pillow onto the couch before plopping down next to it.

You laughed and followed him, curling into him as the warmth of the oven continued to fill the room and the scent of cinnamon wafted from the kitchen to your beautiful living room. "Alright, what are we feeling? Chinese takeout? Or... pizza?"

"Chinese," Bradley answered almost instantly, his hands already reaching for his phone to dial the number. "Nothing beats Chinese on a night like this."

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m with you. The crispy spring rolls, and fried rice, it’s all calling my name.” you sighed happily, a little drunk on how effortlessly perfect the moment was with him.

He grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into him so you were straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. His hands gently trailed down your back, squeezing your hips as he rocked you forward, meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss was heady in the best way. As he gently stroked your tongue with his, he let his hand drop to the curve of your ass, squeezing and palming the flesh through your pyjamas, the thin material pressing against your core in a way that had you gasping. As his tongue explored your mouth, you let your hands run down the muscled planes of his chest, hard and toned even under his t shirt, gently raking patterns with your nails and grinding your hips against his hips. His hand settled on your ass, cupping the flesh softly as he ran his fingers softly between. He drew back to inhale deeply, sighing happily at the sight of your swollen lips. He placed a final indulgent kiss on your swollen lips, pulling your lip between his teeth to watch it snap back in place.

You couldn't help but smile, gently tickling his side as he scooped you up to lay you down properly, grabbing your favourite couch blanket as you opened netflix on the TV.

As Bradley placed the order, you grabbed the remote, flicking through the shows to find something easy and comforting. "How about we throw on a Friends marathon? It’s been forever since I’ve watched it."

Bradley looked over, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Now you're speaking my language." He paused for a beat. "You know, I’ve always thought I’d be a Chandler in another life."

You raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh really? I can see that. The sarcastic humor. The… awkwardness.”

“Hey!” he protested, nudging you with his elbow. “I’m not that awkward.”

“Right,” you said with a grin, leaning back into the couch cushions. “You’ve definitely got a little Ross in you too, but more… cool.”

Bradley laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, but if I’m Ross, you’re definitely Monica. All that organization and competitiveness.”

You looked at him with a mock gasp, “How dare you? I’m not competitive.” But you both burst into laughter as the familiar opening credits of Friends played, the theme song a nostalgic reminder of countless nights spent laughing at the same jokes.

Bradley got up to fetch a bottle of red wine he had picked up a few weeks ago exactly for a night like this, along with two wine glasses with purple and red wine charms you had bought when you first moved in. He poured you a glass of the Sauvignon, watching with a content smile as you swirled it around your glass and took a happy sit, complimenting it with a sweet kiss to his lips.

The doorbell rang just as you settled in, and Bradley jumped up, a little too eager to grab the takeout. As he brought the steaming containers into the living room, you both made room on the coffee table, the food’s scent mingling with the still-warm aroma of the pie in the oven.

With takeout and your favorite show queued up, the evening stretched out in front of you like a peaceful, uninterrupted pause. There was no rush, no deadlines—just the quiet comfort of the moment, with laughter, familiar food, and a freshly baked pie in the oven.

Bradley fed you bites of food and the two of you chatted about mundane things that felt extraordinarily special when you spoke about them with Bradley. Growing up together, you had little to no secrets from each other, but the level of domesticity being in a relationship and living together had brought you had you dreaming of a life with him, a picket fence and kids, dogs and cats, a classic life you hadn't allowed yourself to dream of.

But now, as he fed you a bite of his spring roll and stole a sip of wine from your glass and placated you with a chaste kiss to your lips, your dream had turned to a reality.

The timer’s soft chime echoed through the kitchen, and with it, a rush of anticipation. The pie had finished its long journey in the oven, and as you opened the door, the golden crust greeted you like an old friend. The edges were perfectly crisp, the apples inside caramelized and bubbling with sweet warmth. The kitchen seemed to hum with the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.

Bradley was already standing by, his gaze soft as he watched you take the pie out, the aroma mingling with the last traces of cinnamon and sugar. “Looks perfect,” he murmured, his voice low with the kind of affection only shared in the quiet moments.

You turned to him with a grin. “I think you’re right. This might just be the best one yet.”

With care, you slid the pie onto a cooling rack, and together you waited those precious few minutes before slicing it. You cut into the soft, tender layers, the filling slightly bubbling over as you pulled the first piece onto a plate.

Bradley, ever the gentleman, grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge and dolloped a generous spoonful on top, the cold cream melting slightly against the warm pie. He handed it to you, his fingers brushing against yours in the exchange.

“You first,” he said, his smile warm, a little teasing, but filled with sweetness.

You took the fork, the bite of warm pie and cold cream almost too perfect, the sweetness settling on your tongue like a promise. Bradley’s eyes followed you, a quiet contentment settling over him as he waited for your reaction.

“Good?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, savoring the moment. “Perfect.”

And then, without a word, you held the fork out to him, offering him a taste. His eyes softened as he took the bite, the simple act of sharing something so intimate almost more than either of you could put into words. You fed each other in silence, the only sound being the soft scrape of forks against plates, the occasional hum of contentment escaping both of you.

Between bites, the pauses were filled with quiet laughter, shared glances, and soft kisses—quick, sweet pecks that made the world outside the kitchen seem distant, as though this small moment was the only one that mattered. Your lips met between forkfuls of pie, the taste of apples and cinnamon mixing with the sweetness of each kiss, a quiet rhythm that only deepened the sense of domestic bliss.

Bradley’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing the soft skin there as he pulled you in for another kiss. It was slow this time, lingering, the warmth of the pie forgotten as you melted into the softness of each other’s embrace. You let the moment stretch, taking it all in—the cozy kitchen, the warmth between you, the simple sweetness of pie, and the quiet joy of being together.

When the last bite of pie was finished, the plates were left behind, forgotten, as the two of you curled up together on the couch. The kitchen had long fallen quiet, save for the steady hum of the world outside. But inside, in the gentle glow of the evening, it was just you and him—a perfect little moment, wrapped in love, pie, and a thousand unspoken promises.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : merry christmas everyone! wishing you all love and peace! ❤️ would you like a series on how bradley and childhood best friend!reader got together? do let me know!! as always, likes , comments, reblogs etc are always appreciated!!