#whether you’re in a pot or a bed

[ozzgin]

Your fingers look like they're running out of ring space. Can I cut those rings off and nurse you back to health? 💖💖

In reference to this.

Anon, I genuinely thought on first glance that you said “can I cut those fingers off and nurse them back to health” and I was so confused about it, like what the hell are you planning to do with my digits 😭

This was literally my mental image for the first few seconds until I went through your message again

[girlkisser13]

being married to clark kent would include

• at first, he doesn’t want to reveal his identity to you, even though he feels he can trust you. however, he’s concerned that knowing who he really is might put you in danger.

• once you convince him that you’re willing to accept the risks and show him how much you care, the last of his walls come down. you’re stuck with him forever now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

• your wedding ceremony was lovely. there was a special moment when he used his heat vision to create a heart-shaped firework display in the sky as a surprise for you.

• becoming one of the few people who sees him for who he wants to be, not just who the world needs him to be.

• clark is incredibly gentle with you, always careful with his strength. he holds you close, gives you soft kisses, and makes sure you always feel safe in his arms.

• life with clark is never boring. whether he's saving the world or just helping out around the house, there's always a sense of excitement and adventure in your relationship.

• when it’s a quiet summer afternoon he’ll take you flying just before sunset, he’ll go right above the clouds so you can see what he gets to see.

• he loves the simple things in life— like spending a quiet evening with you at home, enjoying a homemade meal, or taking walks around metropolis.

• clark’s abilities come in handy for everyday tasks. whether it’s lifting heavy furniture, flying you to a special date, or simply speeding through chores, he always makes life a little easier.

• he likes to be touching you when you’re near— whether it’s a hand on your waist, his pinky brushing against yours, or his knee pressed next to yours when you’re sitting together.

• his love languages are acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch. he loves doing things for the people close to him. this includes taking out your trash, watering your plants, making your bed, putting on a pot of coffee in the morning, and fixing any holes in your clothes.

• finding out that clark was superman was not that surprising, but you were taken back when you learned his dog was also an alien. not that it stopped you from spoiling him with toys and treats and anything else his k-9 heart desired.

• there’s always a part of you that worries about him when he’s out saving the world. but he’s always reassuring you that he’ll always come back to you.

• despite his busy life, clark always makes time for quiet moments with you. whether it's reading together, watching the stars, or just enjoying each other's company, he cherishes these moments when it’s just the two of you.

• clark loves surprising you with spontaneous date nights. sometimes he’ll whisk you away to a remote, beautiful location for a romantic evening, using his super speed to make it feel like you’re the only two people in the world.

• TRACING HIS FAMILY CREST ON HIS CHEST WHEN YOU’RE LAYING ON HIS CHEST>>>

• you’ve had to adapt to living with someone who has super senses. you’ve learned how to whisper secrets to him, even in a crowded room, and you appreciate how he’s always attuned to your needs, often before you even realize them yourself.

• sometimes when the two of you are late for work he’ll fly you both there.

• seeing something solar powered and never missing the opportunity to say, "oh look, it gets its power from a yellow sun just like you, honey!"

• he rolls his eyes, but secretly he loves it.

• you love both sides of him— the farm boy from smallville and the alien hero who saves the world. he never has to pretend or hide who he is with you, and that freedom to be himself is why he’s so enamored by you. <33

[trustmypoison]

SVT doing acts of service

Requested? Yes! 

Request: 'seventeen members and what they would for their partner who’s love language is acts of service :)'

A/N: there are so many different kinds of acts of service, but I picked the ones that really stuck out to me. 

Seungcheol - car maintenance and care

You haven’t had to fill up your gas tank in months, years even, because it never seems to come close to empty. You haven’t thought about needing an oil change or tire rotation because the little sticker in the corner of your windshield always looks new. You forget how a drive thru car wash works because your car is always sparkling. And if your check engine light ever does come on with an actual issue, best believe he’s swapping cars for the day to take care of it. Almost entirely motivated by you being safe, but the shiny car with a full tank of gas kind of makes him proud when he returns it to you.

Jeonghan - does the dishes 

You said a single time that dishes were your least favorite chore. You grumbled about it but had every intention of doing it as soon as you could work up the motivation. But he’s rolling his eyes lovingly, pushing you back towards your seat saying, “I’ll do it, but you’re so whiney.” Don’t let it fool you. He doesn’t mind it and even tells you to just leave it for him later. Might even scold you a little bit if you didn't leave them for him.

Joshua - always makes coffee

Absolutely does not matter how early he has to wake up or if it might make him late, but he’s starting the coffee pot. You said one time that you were running late and really needed coffee but didn’t have time to make any or stop somewhere. So every morning when you rush around the apartment to get ready for work, you find fresh coffee with an insulated cup next to the pot for you to fill and go. So small yet so nice at the same time. 

Jun - cooking dinner

You get a little stressed about dinner. After a long day, it’s so, so easy to come home and say “fuck it, I’m ordering something.” But you lament how expensive and unhealthy that habit is sometimes, so you occasionally come home and are surprised to see him there too, cooking dinner. Will not listen to a single second of nagging for him to rest because he really doesn’t mind if it reduces your stress and ensure you’re eating properly and actually wishes he could do it more often. 

Hoshi - packing your lunch 

Similar to Jun, but you often forget to pack lunch the night before and can’t do it in the morning when you’re running late. He sends you to get ready for bed and says he’ll be there in a few. The next morning, he reminds you to grab your lunch from the fridge on your way out. It’s not always this super cute, aesthetically pleasing box lunch, but it’s always nice that he thinks to do it at all.

Wonwoo - organizing your things

You have a pile of things that need to be put away and organized, be it books, or clothes, or groceries. He’ll take over without really being asked. Your bookshelf is neatly alphabetized. Your closet is organized by color or item type, whichever you prefer. Your groceries are put away to your preferences, whether it be by date of expiration or on low shelves to ensure you can reach it. Will not accept any thanks because he just likes doing it. 

Woozi - filling up your water bottle

At the first sight or sound of your water bottle draining, he’s holding out his hand expectantly. Does not matter if you tell him you can do it yourself because you’re wasting your breath. Very much an “I know, but let me do it.” And you do let him do it a majority of the time because it’s kind of sweet how quickly he responds. 

DK - shoulder rubs

This feeds a little bit of the physical touch love language too, but it is still most certainly an act of service. If he sees that you’ve had a hard day or your shoulders are tense, he’s pulling you in front of him or coming up behind your seat to rub out your shoulders. It makes you melt, not only because it feels good and relaxes you, but because it’s always ended with a little kiss and a “feel better?”  

Mingyu - takes care of your pet

Literally the first to volunteer to scoop the litter box, or walk the dog, or clean out the fish tank. Doesn’t matter what kind of pet you have, he wants to learn about it and help you care for it. This also extends to making time for vet appointments when you’re too busy to do it yourself. If you ever say anything about how he doesn’t need to do all that, he’ll cry out, “but that’s our child!!” Don’t deny him his time with his child. 

Minghao - opens things for you

Another one that does the whole “I know, but let me.” He barely watches you struggle to open something for a second before he’s holding out his hand or just straight up taking the item from you. Might even preemptively open things for you before he hands them to you. It’s a totally silent, easy way to show he cares so please let him keep doing it. 

Seungkwan - dries your hair for you

(I’ve definitely written about this before for him, so this was an obvious choice.) Knows you’re usually tired by the time you shower at night, so he’s making you sit down in the bathroom so he can meticulously dry your hair for you. He kind of likes how it puts you to sleep too because it means it was relaxing or soothing for you. Will never let you touch a hair dryer if he’s around. 

Vernon - untangles things for you

It starts with your headphones. You lament that the cords always get tangled and bent in your bag. He takes the headphones from you right then to untangle them. He even winds the cord neatly so it won’t happen when you put them back in your bag. This little habit extends to things like necklaces when they get knotted or tangled in one another. He doesn’t even let you ask about it - if he sees a tangled necklace on your vanity or counter that you left to deal with later out of frustration, he’ll just stop and do it right then. Another one that won’t accept any thanks because he doesn’t mind doing it. 

Chan - organizing your medicine

Doesn’t want you to forget it, no matter what you might take it for. Buys a little pill organizer and sits down once a week to fill it up for you. It’s such a little thing that sometimes you forget you never have to do it. It’s just magically always full at the beginning of the week. He usually knows when you’ve run out of a medication and need a refill before you because of this little habit, and might take initiative to get them for you when he can. 

[theweewooshow]

Buck wakes up to his limbs being moved, to the mattress shifting with the weight change of Tommy getting out of bed.

He’s bleary-eyed as he lifts his head, a questioning sound leaving his throat before he’s even opened his mouth, trying to figure out why his sleep is being interrupted when he’s still so tired.

Tommy shushes him and leans down, kisses above his eyebrow—his birthmark, his favorite spot to kiss soft like this.

Buck looks up at him, his mouth trying to form the word stay.

Tommy kisses his forehead again and says, “Go back to bed, sweetheart.”

And Buck is tempted to sink back into the warm sheets and let sleep take him again because his body is sore and he’s bone-tired and weary after a tough shift yesterday, but then he hears the shower start up and remembers that Tommy switched shifts with someone from another shift so they could go to their kid’s dance recital today.

So he rolls over and sits up, stretching out his arms and his neck and his back, getting some of the kinks out before he drags himself out of bed with a groan.

He trudges downstairs to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He shakes the fog from his brain as he blinks at the machine, watching it sputter to life.

He pours himself a cup when it’s done and pours one for Tommy too, who he knows will be out of the bathroom soon.

He sips coffee from his mug, taking stock of what fruit they have left and what breakfast proteins they have in the fridge as he formulates a plan for breakfast.

He’s cutting up some bananas so he can make a Bananas Foster topping for pancakes when he hears Tommy coming down the stairs.

He smiles when Tommy slides up behind him, warm from the shower and smelling like Buck’s shampoo.

“Morning,” Tommy says, wrapping his arm around his waist, leaning his full weight against him, his chin tucked over Buck’s shoulder as he yawns into his neck.

“Good morning,” Buck says, turning his head to press a kiss to Tommy’s temple.

“Thought I told you to go back to sleep,” Tommy says, voice light and teasing as his hand travels across Buck’s chest to rest on his shoulder, effectively wrapping Buck up in him, making him feel held and warm and too many emotions for this early in the morning.

“You know I don't always like following orders,” Buck says, smirking as he returns to cutting up the bananas in front of him.

“Yeah, when you’re being a brat,” Tommy says, a fond sort of exasperation creeping into his voice. He nuzzles into Buck’s neck, his nose pressed against the bolt of his jaw.

“I didn't want you to have to eat breakfast alone,” Buck admits after a second, utterly incapable of being insincere when Tommy has him in his arms like this, when he keeps him close and just doesn't let go.

It’s one of his favorite things about being with Tommy, how when they’re alone together, Tommy always wants him pressed right up against him, no matter what they’re doing—whether it’s watching TV or cooking or doing laundry, he just always wants Buck close to him.

It was a surprising thing to learn about Tommy—how clingy he actually is. He seemed more aloof when they first met, but once he let Buck in, the shift was pretty quick. And Buck is absolutely not going to complain about that, not when he gets to have this whenever he wants.

He leans back into Tommy’s embrace when he finishes prepping the bananas, letting the warmth of Tommy’s body seep into him, letting his hands drift along Tommy’s arms around him, his fingers tracing up and down his skin.

“You’re sweet,” Tommy whispers, his lips pressing soft, deliberate kisses to Buck’s neck.

Buck would normally be more than content to stay here, wrapped up as he is—to turn his head and brush his nose against Tommy’s before their lips touch, to bring his hand up and curl his fingers into Tommy’s hair to keep him where he wants him, to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, to kiss him until his mouth is sore and red and the air around them is warmed through with the heat of their kisses—but they’re on a tight schedule this morning with only another hour or so before Tommy has to leave.

So even as he basks in the quiet comfort of this moment, he asks, “You gonna let me make you breakfast?”

Tommy’s arms tighten around him, his mouth pressing firmer to the junction of his neck and shoulder. “In a minute,” he murmurs.

Buck hums in response, closing his eyes. He’s got no place to be but right here.

—

also posted on ao3!

[n0tamused]

Welt nerding out about his little special interests and his tv show he likes and whatnot... Dr.Ratio going on and on about all his bath soaps and bath salts and whatever he has... Sunday snuggles and sleeping after a long and heavy day of work....

A/n: Sorry for taking so long pookie I hope you like these little imagines :( <3 mwah, ty for requesting <3

Contents: gn reader, separate drabbles for Sunday, Dr. Ratio and Welt, a bit angsty in Sunday's part, fluff otherwise

Gloved fingers held around the black stylus pen as it glided over the digital screen in a few precise strokes. The character on screen is becoming more and more alive, and looking over his shoulder you can see the several other frames that lay finished, resembling only the start of this little project you managed to convince Welt to partake in. 

“I take it you like it, right?” you ask, tiptoeing playfully around the direct question, prompting the man to laugh heartily, mirth seeping into the crinkles in his face. Leaning back in the chair he takes a small break from the lineart, adjusting his glasses before he look up at you where you stood at his side. 

“You’re spoiling me, you know?” he begins, his eyes mellow with a childlike wonder and joy that isn’t too often seen on his person these days. “Yes, I do like it, a lot. This tablet is even more advanced than the ones I was used to using back in my day. I mean, it holds so many functions, and the program itself has many great features to assist with the process - whether it be just one piece of art or a whole animation” His eyes gleam as he looks back at the screen, his eyes flickering over the corners of the canvas, the little icons and frames and the low opacity sketch of the animation.  

“That is a relief, and I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying it so much. You do deserve it, Mr. Yang” cooing at him softly you pat his shoulder and give him a light squeeze before taking note of what’s on screen. It’s a simple set of characters, and in a more cartoonish style - chibis, is what you heard them call this style. But the characters are oddly familiar to the crew itself.

“Huh..? Is that.. us?”

“Yes… Since this gift was from you, and also the crew has left its mark on this old heart, I thought that my first project on the tablet should be something special too.. Uh, wait..” He fumbles a bit with the frames and animation, brief images flickering of different character - Dan Heng surrounded with books, March 7th’s chibi showing a worried face as she stands next to a pot of Himeko’s coffee and Himeko looking pleased as she drinks from her mug, and there’s PomPom next to the Express, but what  gets your attention is the chibi version of yourself at the very start of the frame set. You’re sitting at a round table with a few chubby stars above you.

“Starting with you, I am first making an introduction to each character..”

“But where are you?”

“Hm?”

“I saw everyone in these, but not yourself? This crew is incomplete without you, Welt.. You should put us together in one frame. I mean, we can be drinking tea at the table together, right?"

Welt looks at you, then at the frame, noting the vacant left side of the big table. 

“You’re right…”

“Sunday..” sleepy mutters fall from your lips as you push yourself to sit on the big bed, the covers pooling at your hips. Your hand is lifted up to shield your eyes from the golden light that spilled from the hall. 

“Apologies... I'll turn the light off now.." comes a reply from the figure shrouded in darkness, but by silhouette alone you could tell him apart from another. His wings droop underneath his ears, showing that even the lightest parts of him felt the heaviness of today’s work. He swiftly but quietly slips into the hallway to turn the lights off, before his footsteps mark his return to the bedroom. Now you can only listen to him shuffle about, the heavy breathing making your heart throb from concern, but you know asking him about it wouldn’t grant you an answer.

So you wait until he lifts the bedsheets and until his palm searches for you across the vast expanse of the mattress. Taking his hand in yours you lead him to where you are, laying on your back and feeling the bed dip and move underneath you until Sunday has settled himself with his head on your chest. Sighing the biggest breath you heard from him so far, you tighten your hold on him, arms circling around his shoulders.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he had you both sinking further into the bed, desperate to feel your warmth, hear your peace and feel it rub off on him too. “I missed you…” he confessed, leaving a chaste kiss on your collarbone before his ear pressed above your heart, listening to the trapped drumming within. 

“I missed you too..” you reply, combing your fingers through his hair, feeling the wings around his waist stretch out for arguably the first time today, one wing shorter than the other, feathers cut halfway. 

“Rest now..” you prompt, kissing the top of his head and he hums into you, wanting nothing more than to dream of you and freedom with you.

"I told you to be a little more careful with which shampoos you purchased.." you heard him say when you pointed out how a particular shampoo on the shelf made your hair damaged the last time you used it. You sighed, in agreement with him, but as he plucked the bottle from the shelf you looked over the other products on the shelves, taking a hair mask container and putting it in your cart.

“See, this is why this shampoo didn’t sit well with you” Veritas says, looking over the ingredient list after catching sight of the logo of the producer, a sneer already on his face as he never had good experiences with this company’s products. 

You look over at him, holding onto the shopping cart with one hand as you peer at the bottle in his hand. “Oh, yeah- that one did have my hair feeling like hay.. ugh” you frown a little but as Veritas looks further down the ingredients list, you let your eyes wander over the shelves in search for a possible alternative - one that won’t leave your hair feeling dry and ready to snap. 

“Hmm…” Veritas looks up, his coral eyes looking over at you after he had returned the bottle onto the shelf. “Let me see..” he muttered, already reaching out to grasp a lock of your hair in between his fingers, twirling it for a moment before thinking hard about it. Then his eyes return to the vast selection of shampoos, reaching for a green bottle on a higher shelf. “Ah, this one would go well for your hair type. And it will regenerate whatever damage that other bottle left you with”

“Oh, let me smell it-” you whisper with soft excitement, forcing a huffed chuckle from Veritas as it seemed you cared more about the smell than what the shampoo actually had to offer. He shakes his head as he pops the lid open and brings it to your nose. 

“Does it smell good enough for you?” he asked, teasing laced in his words, but despite that he brought the bottle to his nose as well to inhale the light green apple smell. He relishes in the scent, imagining the way our hair would smell the same if you purchased this. 

“Ohh.. oh definitely, it smells so good. Give it here” you smile up at him and take the bottle to put in the cart. “I should ask you more often on this guru advice, Veritas, you’re more help than I gave you credit for” you playfully jab at him as you walk a few steps forward, looking at another section where bath salts and bath bombs lay. “Oh! Look at this!” you gleam as you pluck a round bath bomb colored blue. 

“Lavender?” Veritas asked as he came up next to you, choosing to ignore your initial jab. 

“Yeah. Lavender suits you, and it is a relaxing scent over all. Didn’t you run out of those bath salts too? We should get some new ones” you throw the bath bomb into the cart before he can reject it, but you make space for him to look over the other products, smiling up at him coyly as he gives you a daring look, yet you knew he meant no malice, he was being playful. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[chukys-mouthguard]

oscar winning tears

featuring -> quinn hughes x female reader

genre -> angst, fluff

summary-> inspired by ‘oscar winning tears’ by raye

note -> thinking of this becoming a mini series possibly? If anyone would be interested?

“You’re fucking joking, are you kidding me?”

Quinn’s shouting echoed off the walls of your shared bedroom as he halted his packing. The news caught him off guard as you sat on the bed, arms wrapped around your legs as you held them tight to your chest. Feeling awful for what you’d told him, but you had no choice.

“I wish I was Quinn, but I just got the call an hour ago. I have no choice!”

Quinn let out a snarky laugh as he resumed packing his suitcase, shaking his head as he moved about the room.

“You do have a choice, you’ve had a choice since the day you met me y/n. This is going to be one of the biggest nights of my career, and you’re canceling on me for a meeting?”

“Yes Quinn, a meeting that happens to be one of the biggest in my career! Look, I’m sorry that I refuse to be some stay at home WAG that cooks and cleans the house all day while you’re the one off making money and having a career. But I just don’t understand why you can’t support me in my career like I support you?”

Quinn scoffed as he zipped the suitcase shut, “yeah, some supportive girlfriend you are! I gotta go.”

Pulling his bag from the bed he grabbed his wallet and phone from his dresser as he headed downstairs, his ride waiting to take him to the airport. You knew that it was best to let him go, when fights like this happened it was better to end it once one of you walked away. But you were less stubborn as Quinn, you hated the idea of walking away from one another after saying something hateful. Especially when one of you is about to get on a plane for several hours.

“Quinn, wait!”

Hurrying down the stairs you tried your best to stop him, but he was already loading his things into the car. As he closed the trunk he looked to you, as if waiting for whatever it was you had to say.

“I love you, I’m so proud of you.”

He made his way to the side of the car, climbing in, he didn’t say anything back. Your heart sinking in your chest, though you told yourself it’s just Quinn being Quinn. The sound of the window rolling down stopped you from heading back into the house, a stern look on Quinn’s face as he spoke, “Call you when I land,” and with that he was gone.

-

Quinn was nervous, you could tell by his body language as his fingers picked at the arm of the couch he was seated on. Impatiently awaiting the announcement this entire night centered around for him. How you wished you could have been there. To hold his hand and keep him calm, to reassure him that whether he won or lost you still loved him and were so incredibly proud of him. But alas work had other plans, and you were left to watch from home on the couch with the rest of the world.

“And the winner of the James Norris Memorial Trophy is…”

You could feel your heart in your throat as you crossed your fingers, praying that his name would be called. The calm look on his face was simply a facade as you knew Quinn was probably laced with anxiety inside. His brothers beside him surely were doing the same as you, rooting for him as they always did.

“From the Vancouver Canucks, Quinn Hughes!”

“Yes!”

Your cheers echoed throughout the house as you jumped off the couch, clapping and cheering as you watched Quinn take the stage. You knew it was nothing to get emotional over, but you couldn’t help but shed a tear. Only a few people knew how hard he worked behind closed doors. What he went through day in and day out to be one of the top defenseman in the NHL. And now he could truly say, he was the top defenseman.

Thinking back to the argument the two of you had a few days ago, you started to question if Quinn was right. Despite always telling yourself that you wouldn’t give up your career for the typical WAG stay at home lifestyle, you were thinking of all the moments you could potentially be missing.

Though the NHL awards weren’t the biggest night in Quinn’s career, next it could be the Stanley Cup Final you’d be missing. And simply the idea of missing such a night for Quinn, you couldn’t imagine it. Though Quinn tries to respect your desire for your own career, you know he keeps a lot of his thoughts to himself. But after the last argument, you knew that it was getting harder and harder for him to keep those quiet.

-

“Baby?”

You heard Quinn’s voice echo throughout the house, followed by the sound of him setting down his bags. Quickly you hurried to put the finishing touches on your surprise dinner, the last step being to pour some of his favorite wine.

Just as you’d replaced the cork and set the bottle down Quinn turned the corner, a soft smile on his face as he looked over the candlelit dinner you’d prepared. He let out a sigh as he walked over to you, arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close.

Taking in the scent of your perfume he loved so much, his hand tracing up and down your back as he took his time appreciating your body in his embrace. Making sure you knew how much he missed you as he pulled back to steal a kiss from you.

“Hi.”

“Hi babe.”

You smiled up at him, slightly giggling as you could see how well you pulled off your surprise by the look on his face. He helped you into your seat at the dining table before taking his own.

“So, what is all this about?”

His eyes scanned the table as you took your glass in hand, holding it out for him to cheers you.

“Like you have to ask Mr. Norris Trophy Winner!”

He rolled his eyes embarrassed as he raised his glass, then pulled it to his lips to take a sip.

“Yeah yeah, I know you didn’t do all of this just for me winning that trophy babe.”

His tone caught you a bit off guard, though appreciative it also seemed laced with sarcasm and assumption.

“Really Quinn? Why can’t I do something nice for you? I mean, you want me to be this stay at home type. Cooking dinner, having the house clean for you when you come home. This is what you want right? And now I’m being criticized for it.”

Quinn immediately regretted his comments, not meaning them to come across the way they did. He just wasn’t used to surprise dinners from you, with work usually holding you up at the office and dinner not a common occurrence, Quinn couldn’t help but feel there was more to the act than just a simple dinner. But he certainly didn’t mean to accuse you of buttering him up.

“I’m sorry, honest. I didn’t mean, I just. You’re right, you aren’t this type of girl to surprise me with dinner on the table. And I didn’t think me winning that trophy was enough reason to become that type of girl. So, for that I am sorry.”

He took your hand in his as you tried to let your frustrations subside, not noticing the tears in your eyes until Quinn reached out to wipe one away.

“I’m sorry Quinn.”

“You’re sorry? For what babe?”

Trying to laugh off your emotions, you simply wiped your tears as you served some salad onto Quinn’s plate.

“I just, I thought about that argument we had. And I think that maybe you’re right. Maybe I should consider giving up my job. I’d be able to do things like this more, come to more games, be at award ceremonies and sit next to you and support you. I can’t do that now, and you deserve so much more than that. So I’m sorry, but I’ll figure something out and try to be better.”

Quinn grabbed your wrist and stopped your anxious serving of food, taking the tongs and bowl of salad from you. Setting them down on the table with a sigh as he could tell how much the argument affected you.

“Baby, please. I love you just the way you are. You don’t need to be better, you’re perfect. I’m a dick for ever telling you that your career isn’t important, or for making you think you needed to give that up for me. Would it be nice to have you around more? Of course! But I don’t want you to sacrifice all of that for me, this should be a compromise. And I can let my emotions or frustrations relax a bit when it comes to your schedule. It’s not like the extra stress on you is at all necessary, work puts you through the ringer as it is.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you tried your best to take what Quinn said as facts, but you knew deep down he hated your work schedule. He hated how often you missed games, or how many nights you spent late at the office missing the opportunity for dinner with him at home. Despite him telling you that your career wasn’t an issue, you couldn’t help but feel like he’d be better off with a typical WAG that stuck to social media or was something more flexible like an influencer.

“Quinn, I hear you, I do. But, maybe you’re just trying to justify things. I know you’d prefer it to be different, and, I’m willing to sacrifice because I love you and I-“

“Don’t you have a big work event coming up?”

“What?”

The question caught you off guard, work wasn’t something Quinn ever asked much about, so you weren’t sure how to respond.

“There’s like a big party or something coming up?”

“Oh, yeah, our company gala. It’s basically to recognize the success of the company over the last year and stuff. Why?”

“You’re being recognized right?”

Quinn laughed at your confused stare, wondering why you thought him being interested in your work was so wrong.

“Can I go?”

“Y-you wanna go?”

“Of course! I don’t think I’ve ever been able to go before, and I wanna support you just as you do for me! I promise I’ll prove to you that you don’t have to be some stay at home trophy WAG for me, okay?”

[schemmentigfs]

Sweetening The Deal. (part 3.)

Summary: Melissa reflects about the possible changes between the two of you that the sugar mommy deal bought. After spending the night at her penthouse, you have a weird dream about the redhead....

tags: @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @greencurlyhair @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic

Next Chapter.

Part 1. Part 2.

Melissa groaned as the early morning sunlight pierced through the slits in the blinds. She rolled over, already dreading the reality of waking up. The events of the previous night—everything about it, from the dinner to the lingering almost kiss—played through her mind again, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and you. It was too soon to tell if it was a shift for the better, but it was certainly a shift all the same.

The redhead’s muscles protested as she pushed herself up, running a hand through her messy hair. It wasn’t like her to be so off-balance, but there was something about you that rattled her in a way she hadn’t expected. You were bratty. Unpredictable. A puzzle she was both annoyed and intrigued by. And despite herself, she found herself almost caring about the small details—like how you’d looked at her last night or how your voice had softened when you spoke to her.

She carefully slid out of bed, wincing at the stiffness in her back from the night’s sleep. She glanced over at the guest bedroom door, half-wondering if she’d wake you up with her movements. She didn’t want to disturb you, not just yet. You had seemed so vulnerable when you’d finally fallen asleep last night, and the thought of you waking up in a strange place made her feel protective—though she hated admitting it.

Slowly, the older woman padded to your room, peeking through the crack in the door. There you were, lying on your back, arm thrown over the edge of the bed, eyes shut in deep slumber. You looked so innocent, nothing like the woman who’d made her life so much more complicated in such a short time.

Melissa leaned down slightly, brushing a hand across your arm, feeling the warmth of your skin under her touch. She didn’t let herself linger long, though, pulling away almost immediately. She was a little surprised at how soft your skin felt. The woman she’d been dealing with for the past few days, who had given her nothing but trouble and attitude, was here now, looking almost angelic in sleep. She huffed quietly, stepping back toward the door.

“You’re so fucking bratty,” she muttered under her breath, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “And you’re making me care. I don’t like this.”

Before the redhead could react, you kicked the blanket and that’s when she caught a glimpse of your underwear—dark lace peeking out from under the hem of your oversized shirt. Green eyes widened briefly, her heart pounding before she immediately closed them, unwilling to let herself get lost in the distraction. Focus, Schemmenti. Focus. You can’t look at this little stinker like it is a meal. You are not a damn wild animal.

Opening her eyes and cleaning her thoart, she pulled the door closed gently behind her and tiptoed downstairs, hoping the solitude of the kitchen would give her a moment to clear her head. But she wasn’t alone.

Suddenly, the faint sound of clattering pots echoed from the giant kitchen again and again. Melissa let out a low groan, recognizing the noise immediately.

“Shit,” the woman sighed softly, already feeling the headache return. “Cavolo, stai scherzando.”

Descending the stairs, she heard Pearl, her elderly housekeeper and longtime friend, bustling around as if she were still on the clock. Despite being retired for almost a decade, she had made a habit of showing up unannounced, whether it was to check on Melissa, water her plants, or, as she put it, “make sure you’re not making a mess of yourself, piccola.”

The only problem about the sixty nine year old woman was that she was always early. The retired housekeeper-turned-mentor had an uncanny ability to show up before anyone was awake. She had taken care of the redhead for years, practically raising her as a daughter of her own, and now, even in her retirement, the older woman found ways to make herself useful—perhaps a bit too useful for Melissa Schemmenti’s liking.

The redhead tried not to wince as she descended the last step, her joints protesting as the smell of scrambled eggs and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the kitchen. Pearl was already busy at the stove, flipping pancakes with her practiced ease, the lines of her face softened with a contented smile as she worked. Melissa’s heart softened, despite her earlier irritation at being woken up this early. She couldn’t help but feel a warmth for this woman who’d cared for her all these years.

“Morning, Missy,” Pearl greeted, barely turning from her task. Using the childhood nickname that the heiress of the Schemmentis hated. “You look like you had a rough night.”

“Didn’t think anyone else would be awake yet,” the green eyed woman muttered, crossing to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would help shake off the lingering fog. “Especially you, coming so soon.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” the housekeeper replied with her usual warmth, her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. “Got up to make sure you had a proper breakfast. Since I know you aren’t eating properly due to menopause. And your night escapes to some bars.”

“You don’t need to act like my ma.” Melissa scoffs, rolling her eyes annoyed. Before she could answer again, she groaned feeling hot.

Pearl’s sharp caramel eyes glanced her over knowingly. “Forgot your medication, didn’t you?” she asked, her tone a gentle scold. “And don’t tell me you didn’t, Melissa Ann. I know that look.”

Melissa grimaced, rubbing her forehead. “I was just going to take it now,” she said, her voice defensive. She rummaged in the cabinet above the sink, pulling down a small pill bottle labeled with her name. The eldest raised a skeptical eyebrow as she uncapped it and dry-swallowed one of the pills.

Pearl set down her spatula and crossed her arms, her gaze softening. “Are you taking care of yourself, Mel? I know menopause isn’t easy, especially for someone like you who tries to carry the world on her shoulders.” Her voice held a rare gentleness, a tone reserved for the few times she’d allowed herself to acknowledge Melissa’s various struggles over the years. Some of those being her depression episodes, marriage trauma and family problems since her Nonna’s passing.

The forty-five year old’s shoulders slumped a bit. “It’s… it’s fine. Really. Just some hot flashes here and there. Dryness. And headaches. And—” She cut herself off, sighing as she realized she was about to list off all the symptoms she’d been dealing with lately.

“Mm-hmm,” Pearl replied, clearly unconvinced. She took out her own bottle of medication from her purse on the counter and handed it to Melissa, who dutifully placed it in a nearby drawer with Pearl’s name on it. “Now, what about you?” she pressed, her tone half-teasing but her eyes serious. “I didn’t expect to find a guest here this morning.”

She let out a sharp sign, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like that. She’s… young, yeah, but it’s different this time.”

“Oh, a young woman now,” Pearl noted, raising her eyebrows in amusement. “Not like that young man last time—what was his name? The one who didn’t know what he was doing in bed if it saved his life.”

At this, Melissa’s cold face twisted in a grimace, the unfortunate horrified memory flashing in her mind. “Don’t remind me,” she whispered, almost shuddering. She remembered that boy fumbling, more nervous than he had any right to be, and how disappointed she’d felt through sex. “This one’s different, though. It’s… a sort of arrangement. You could call it a sugar mommy and sugar baby thing, I guess.”

The brown haired gave her a look, equal parts surprise and amusement. “A sugar mommy thing? With all due respect, Melissa, you don’t have enough patience for that sort of thing.”

She crossed her arms. “She’s bratty, I’ll admit that. But she’s… I don’t know, she’s different. I’m trying not to think too hard about it.”

Pearl shook her head, her mouth set in a knowing line. “You know your family won’t like this,” she said quietly. “You know how they can be about anything that doesn’t fit the mold.”

“They already don’t like half of what I do. What’s one more thing?”

Before the housekeeper could respond, a soft whimper floated down from upstairs. Melissa hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the stairs. She’d heard you tossing and turning all night, the sounds muffled but constant, each soft shift catching her attention as she lay in bed. She’d even considered coming to check on you during the whole night, maybe sleeping on a armchair next to the closet but something held her back. Now, hearing your faint whimper, she couldn’t ignore the stir of worry creeping up.

“Poor thing was restless all night,” she muttered to herself, sighing as she forced herself to stay seated. “Couldn’t keep still for a second, that little troublemaker.” The nickname slipped out, soft but affectionate, as if the word had formed on her tongue before she realized it.

Pearl looked at her with a knowing smile. “Ah, so you were listening,” she teased, folding her arms as she watched Melissa try to feign indifference.

The Italian scoffed, shrugging in a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, well… couldn’t exactly ignore it. She was moving so much, I half expected her to fall out of bed.”

Meanwhile, you tossed and turned, trapped in a fevered dream that felt all too real. The sheets tangled around your silhouette, your breathing shallow as you tried to escape the sensations pulling at your mind. In the dream, Melissa was there, her figure pressed tightly against yours, the heat between you building as her green eyes locked onto yours with that hungry, predatory glint that always sent a shiver down your spine. Her auburn hair was falling messily around her shoulders as she leaned over you.

The redhead was grunting softly, her breath warm against your neck as she ground her plump hips against yours, pressing her chest closer until the friction between your clits was almost overwhelming.

“Mm, c’mon… just like that,” she whimpered, each word dripping with raw desire. “Feel that, huh? God, you’re a mess for me, aren’t you?”

You moaned, feeling the pressure grow, her words sinking into you, making every nerve in your body come alive. Her manicured hands gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as she rocked faster against you, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that had you panting while the bed cracked softly. “You like that? Can't even keep quiet, can you?”

“Please..”

“God, you’re so needy,” she mocked, her tone laced with a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. Her lips brushed against your ear, her hot breath making your entire body tingle. “When I’m done with you here. I’m gonna eat that pretty cunt of yours until you’re begging me to stop.”

She rasped, pressing harder.

Your hands clawed at her back, every inch of your body aching for her as she took control, her voice a seductive murmur that drove you wild. “You’ll be so wrecked, you won’t be able to think about anything else. Just Mommy.”

“Gonna make you cum, sweetheart?” She grabbed your neck, grinding faster and faster. The friction was driving you to the edge, and you could feel yourself trembling, every nerve on fire. You were so close, the sensation building until you thought you might break.

“Mommy— shit. I… I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, voice barely more than a whimper as your body arched beneath her, completely lost in the moment. Her strong hand tightened, grounding you as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, shuddering with pleasure—

Then, abruptly, you jolted awake, your breath catching as the remnants of the dream slipped away. Disoriented, you blinked at the ceiling, your heart pounding as the heat of embarrassment flooded your face. Shifting slightly, you felt the unmistakable dampness beneath you and glanced down, realizing with horror that you’d left a very obvious wet spot on the bed.

“Shit,” you whispered, mortified, scrambling to sit up, only for the sheets to tangle around your legs. You stumbled in your hurry, slipping off the edge of the bed and landing on the floor with a loud thud. “Oh, God—shit, shit!”

The noise must have been louder than you thought, because within seconds, you heard the footsteps rushing up the stairs. Before you could even process what to do, the door burst open, and there stood Melissa, eyes wide with alarm, closely followed by someone that you didn’t knew.

“What happened?” The older woman demanded, her gaze darting over you as you sat on the floor, cheeks flaming, trying to gather yourself.

Looking up, you gulped. Fascinated by the one and only Melissa Schemmenti in front of you. She’s wearing a bright, colorful outfit that combines a green and yellow floral-patterned cardigan over a teal top. Her pants are pink with a large floral design, adding to the bold color palette.

“Y/N?” she asked again, frowning. “What is wrong?”

You fumbled, not sure how to even begin explaining, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried to act casual—despite the very obvious wet patch visible on the sheets. “I—I, um, I was… I mean, I just—uh, bad dream! Yeah. Bad dream,” you stammered, trying to brush it off, but the redness on your face betrayed you.

The shorter woman arched a brow, her expression both amused and skeptical. “Bad dream, huh?” she quips, crossing her arms as she gave you a once-over.

You bit your lip, scrambling for any excuse that didn’t sound utterly mortifying. “Uh! Like… uh… giant spiders? Huge ones. They were all over the room,” you said, clearly flustered, and added, “Super terrifying. And I guess I, um, kicked myself out of bed.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching like she was trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh. Spiders,” she repeated, clearly unconvinced.

You could feel yourself turning bright red under her gaze, every attempt to come up with a coherent explanation slipping away as you grew more embarrassed. “It’s… um… it’s complicated. You know, just… spiders everywhere,” you continued, waving your hand in a vague, desperate attempt to salvage your dignity.

The housekeeper shook her head, chuckling softly. “Looks like someone’s still half-asleep. Well, dear,” she said, turning to the redhead with a smirk, “seems your little friend had quite the night.”

Melissa coughed, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. “Maybe you oughta get a handle on those… nightmares?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, utterly mortified.

Noticing your discomfort, your sugar mommy huffed, pushing Pearl away. She turned to her old friend, fixing her with a pointed look. “You’ve done enough meddling for one morning, Pearly. Go get yourself a coffee or something—and don’t eavesdrop, alright? Come on, get out. I’m sure you’ve got something else to do—like… I don’t know, gardening or making some pasta?”

Pearl held up her hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it,” she spoke, casting a knowing glance before heading out, muttering something about the “privileges of the rich.” As she disappeared down the hallway, Melissa rolled her olive eyes and turned back to you with a reassuring smile.

“Pearl’s been around forever,” she explained. “She was practically my second mom growing up. A little nosy, but she means well.” With a shrug, she softened, her tone growing gentle. “But enough about her. I figured now’s as good a time as any to talk about you settling into your new place. I know moving’s a process, but we’re close. By the end of next week, everything should be ready for you to be officially out of that fucking apartment.”

You nodded, the tension in your shoulders easing as you let the idea sink in. You’d been living in a cramped, rundown place for far too long, and the thought of moving somewhere safer, somewhere luxurious, almost didn’t feel real. “I… I appreciate it, Melissa. Really.”

Melissa waved a hand, brushing off the thanks as if it were nothing. “It’s the least I can do. But I thought we’d get a head start on things today, get you acquainted with my place since you are going to stay here until the moving process is over. C’mon, let me give you the grand tour to your temporary home.”

She motioned for you to follow, leading you through the spacious, elegant penthouse. Every corner of the place felt like it was straight out of a magazine—the polished marble floors, the sweeping floor-to-ceiling windows with a stunning city view, and the sleek, modern furniture that seemed like it was made to perfection. She pointed out the essentials as you moved from room to room, each space more luxurious than the last.

“This here’s the kitchen,” she said, stopping by a gorgeous open space outfitted with the latest stainless steel appliances and a massive marble island. “Anything you need in here, just ask. I’ve got a personal chef who stops by now and then, so if cooking’s not your thing, don’t worry.”

You followed along in awe, nodding as she led you past the living room, that you saw yesterday which was filled with plush furniture and enough space to entertain a whole party. After covering every corner of the penthouse—from the extravagant master bathroom, equipped with a jacuzzi tub, to the private gym—Melissa finally turned to you with a satisfied smile.

“Alright, now that you’ve seen the whole place,” the redhead starts, resting a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder, “it’s time we get you properly settled. How about a little shopping trip to pick out whatever you need?”

You felt your cheeks warm as her hand lingered, the sensation grounding and reassuring. “Yeah, I could use some essentials… maybe a few things to make it feel like home. And I could use some new clothes..”

“Good. Then let’s get going. We’ve got a lot to cover, and I don’t want any more interruptions.” With a final pat on your shoulder, she led the way to the door, her presence steady and confident by your side.

[kiwisim4]

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With Maxis Match textures, the Capsule Collection integrates seamlessly into any home, whether you're furnishing a chic city apartment, a cozy suburban home, or a retro-inspired space. The clean lines and soft wood tones bring warmth and personality, while the subtle mid-century edge gives it that timeless charm.

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[honeyshiddendesire]

Dirty Alphabet - Shanks

Shanks x Female Reader

*banner*

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Loves his sleep but loves you more. So expect him to clean you up after whether it’s with his mouth or a nice hot bath for the two of you

B = Breath Play (do they like it done to them or doing the deed)

Both I can see him being a kinky dude 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Creampie enthusiast lol loves stuffing that pussy full of his seed while telling you how pretty you look doing it

D = Dirtiest Kink (what they think is their dirtiest kink)

Daddy kink for sure but not like that simple calling him daddy stuff. Oh no! He wants to see you in the pretty skirts, with the pigtails and remind you that he’s the older one, even going as far as saying, “Be careful sweetie don’t want mommy to hear you.” It’s dirty and deranged and he just can’t get enough of your shocked gasp before you finally give into his dark desire.

E = Exhibitionist?  (Do they like being watched)

Watch him all you want but he’ll tease you the entire time, giving you a nice dirty show. Stroking his cock and telling you to help him out by spitting on his dick so he can glide his palm against himself

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl! Both reverse and regular.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Will tease and crack jokes whenever he can unless it honestly makes you uncomfortable but he’s very much go with the flow.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Groomed pretty nice but likes his happy trail 

I = Initiation (how do they get you going? Vice versa )

Hornball just like all the other red haired men in this show lol Can’t keep his hand off of you whenever you pass by him. Will pull you into his lap and whisper some filth in your ear till you’re the one begging him to take you to your room.

J = Jealous (how do they get when jealous )

Honestly you could try and make him jealous even going as far as having someone buy you a drink and it would backfire on you, tbh he’d probably cheer you on. But if someone gets handsy with you during your little jealousy game then he’ll step in wrapping his arm around you pulling you into the biggest, sloppiest kiss. Once yall get back to the room be prepared for the spanking of a lifetime.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Shanks loves loves lovesss watching you masturbate, make it pretty for him and put on a show and he's gonna melt. He’ll try and sit still till the end but he can’t help himself and will pounce, licking your cunt like a lollipop

Loves spanking you. Hearing you yelp and seeing you squirm as you’re bent over his lap makes his cock so hard. Grinding his cock into your belly as he lays spank after spank on your cute booty, enjoys seeing it move with every smack.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Will literally fuck you anywhere but prefers his comfy bed so you can be your loudest.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you bend over to pick something up he’ll materialize right behind you in an instant, or you come behind him and rub his shoulders. If you flirt even a little he’ll become like a pot of boiling water waiting to blow off his steam and load all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won’t draw blood from you so he’ll never be too rough with you. If you happen to be on your menstrual then he’s fine and dandy but if he’s the cause for your blood then he’ll freak out.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Great pussy eater and can spend hours between those pretty legs, using his arm to pin your tummy down preventing you from moving or running away. Loves receiving as well but except him to fuck your face nice and slow while praising you on your perfect skills.

P = Position (favorite position)

Cowgirl - so he can see your pretty face as you work those hips he loves so much

Reverse Cowgirl- Loves spanking your ass as you bounce on his cock, pulling your hair so you arch your back on his cock. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Whenever and wherever you guys can sneak off to he is all for it lol

R = Rope (shibari, bondage? Do they like it?)

Definitely down to try anything. Loves seeing you unable to move as you’re all tied up and isn’t opposed to being the one tied and at your mercy but he’ll still talk like he’s in charge.

S = Sharing? (Are they willing to share you?)

It’s up to you but he’d only share you with Benn of course.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Loves them. Want a vibrator? Then he’ll fuck you senseless while holding it to your clit until you’re shaking and regretting the purchase. Want him to wear a cock ring? Sure he’ll be your victim no problem. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not to unfair but lives to tease and drive you wild

V = Voyeur (do they like to watch)

Most definitely but he’ll only watch for so long before he gets impatient

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Can totally see this man pretending like he doesn’t know you in a bar just to have the excuse to pick you up again. Pretending you’re both cheating on your dear partners until you’re both tangled in the sheets in a lusty sweaty mess. The whole time Benn and the crew will just laugh along with your antics 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Not the girthiest but that man is long and curved poking you right in your special spot. Won’t stretch you too much but you’ll feel him deep in your tummy. Will even tease you by putting his cock against your stomach, winking that that's where he’s about to be.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When he’s away you’re in the forefront of his mind and the second he’s back on the ship then he’ll drag you off somewhere in a second. If you’re not on his crew and he has to leave then you’re his masturbation material until he finally has you in his reach and returns back to your island.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not quickly, he loves being a gentleman taking care of all your wants and needs and that includes anything you’ll need after a body numbing session but once you’re all good then he’s snoring like a big baby.

[lijojo]

love is in the details.

after years of being married and living together, you two have settled into a little routine. what’s the little moments that make your life special?

genshin characters x reader 

brushing each other’s hair in the morning

early in the morning, regardless of whether either of you have to go out or not, you help brush each other’s hair. if you’re in a rush, he’s groggily following you into the kitchen, hairbrush in hand. you’ll be sitting there eating breakfast while he’s standing behind you trying to manage your bedhead.

his touch is gentle, loving as he files through your strands. if you have a specific hair routine in the morning, he’ll do that for you. rubbing your favorite hair oil in his hands, he’ll gingerly comb it through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process.

and you’ll brush through his hair and try to micromanage the little tufts that stick out. when you’re finished, he’ll turn around to give you the softest kiss on the forehead and say “thank you, love.”

when you two know neither of you are going out for the rest of the day, you’ll pull out your collection of flowery clips you saw the other day at the market and tie his hair up in multiple silly little ponytails decorated with butterflies.

even if he doesn’t like it, he’ll never tell you. not when you look so happy, content with making a mini ponytail that made him look akin to a unicorn. instead, he’ll sit still and look pretty, watching through the mirror’s reflection as you clip his hair back with a giggle. his eyes will soften, like you’re the most precious thing. 

kaeya, kazuha, diluc, zhongli, baizhu, albedo, alhaitham, xiao

 brushing your teeth together

it doesn’t seem like a big thing, but you two make it a point to never brush your teeth without the other. not if you can help it, at least. when one of you gets out of bed before the other, whether it’s because you have something you need to do or you’re making breakfast, the other will quickly follow suit. 

when your eyes accidentally meet each other’s in the mirror, he’ll raise his hand to ruffle through your hair. and depending on his mood, he might put you into playful headlock, not letting go until you squeeze the fat at his waist. 

sometimes while you’re doing other things, he’ll come from to tug at your wrist, signaling that he needs to brush his teeth after eating something sweet. he won’t say anything, but the two of you have quickly reached a silent understanding. 

and if he’s feeling a little bit annoying that day, he’ll press a messy kiss on your cheek. you’ll groan as you clean the toothpaste off your face but he’ll just smile smirk cheekily at you as he tries to dodge your own kisses. 

in the midst of your scuffle, if toothpaste lands on your shirt you’ll point at it and laugh together. 

some days, when you’re sad, you find it hard to keep up with personal hygiene. there are days where it feels too hard to get out of bed and take care of yourself, but he’s always there to make self-care seem just a bit easier. 

childe, thoma, tighnari, scaramouche, kaveh, ayato, gorou, alhaitham

singing songs in the kitchen

when you two are cooking, the two of you will sing together. it’s not some loud thing. if one of you has a song stuck in your head, you’ll hum it in harmony as you fry the eggs. 

occasionally, you two will break out in full-on concerts. you’ll pretend that the spatula is your microphone as you preform a grammy-winning duet. as you wait for the pot the boil, you’ll dance as if you’re on stage in front of thousands. 

as time passes, you guys end up leaving a notepad and pen somewhere in the corner. while you’re cooking, baking, or simply getting a snack from the fridge, if you have some kind of song/lyric idea you’ll messily scribble it down and be on your merry way. 

and so, you two probably have a couple albums worth of silly songs. sometimes you write it together, sometimes you’ll pass by and check to see if he added something new. sometimes the songs are about the new cooking recipe you’re trying out, sometimes it’s a sweet love song. 

either way, the two of you are jamming it out in the kitchen. whether the two of you are cutting vegetables or stirring the pot, you two are in harmony. 

venti, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, cyno, childe, itto, thoma

playing little pranks 

when you least expect it, he’ll switch your rings. just to see if you’d noticed. he’ll give you at least a couple of hours (at most a day, but that’s only if you’re really busy) to notice. if you do, he just smiles cheekily and switches them back. if you don’t, he’ll pout and ask for a kiss to make up for it. 

when you’re feeling overworked and burnt out, he’ll walk into the room with a glass of water and some fruit. he’ll give you a kiss for good luck, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your hair and walk out swiftly as if he was never there. 

if you don’t look up fast enough to catch him before he’s out the room, you’ll miss the fact that he’s wearing your bra outside of his shirt and walking as if he was on a runway. when you do, you’re quick to act on it. you sprint out of the room with the biggest grin. by then, he’s heard your footsteps and is already on the run. when you catch him, you pepper him with hundreds of tiny little kisses.

“that’s what you get for taking my bra,” you say in-between giggles. 

he wraps his arms around your neck, peppering you with equally as many kisses. 

“i don’t think this is a very good punishment. i’m not supposed to like it,” he muses cheekily. 

when the two of you’ve calmed down, he’ll give you a final kiss goodbye before you return to work, recharged.

his little shenanigans might be distracting sometimes, but it’s because of him that you’ve learned the importance of stepping back and letting yourself breathe. 

venti, childe, kaveh, kaeya, itto, ayato

[thematpatcu]

So uh,,, just gonna let this go here,,,

Off Night

BillxFordxFiddleford

Silly eepy time fic I made in a cold sweat trust

“Specs really is tired tonight, huh? Must be tiring being worked down to the bone.” This again. Bill had already gone through this whole conversation 30 minutes ago, and Ford thought he had dropped the issue by now.

‘He’s fine, Bill, he’s probably just having an off day.’ It happens to the best of us, and if anybody can pull through this, it’s him and Fiddleford. They’re not like everybody else, they can achieve anything they put their minds to, as long as they’re willing to put in the hours.

“Off night.” For a moment, Bill sounded cross, but he quickly returned to his usual cheery demeanor. “It’s almost midnight, Sixer. Don’t tell me you’re losing track of time again.”

‘We’ve worked longer.’

Right as he heard Bill sigh, Fiddleford spoke up. “Stanford..?”

“Hm? Yes, Partner?”

He was avoiding eye contact with him. “‘S been a long night, and I oughta get home soon-“

“But we’re so close to hitting the next big break on the portal!” Stanford shot him a desperate look, “Please, Fidds, just five more minutes…”

Fiddleford fidgeted with his hands, a wobbly smile appearing across his face, “Right, I know, but, portal’ll be there tomorrow, won’t it? Plus, I gave ya five more minutes…” He shrunk in on himself, mumbling now, “thirty minutes ago…”

‘Can’t believe you’re making me do this, IQ.’

“Do what?” Before Fiddleford could ask why he just asked that, Stanford slumped against the desk, rising back up with yellow eyes.

“Alright, Mr Inventor, I’ve heard ya loud and clear!” He stood tall, hands at his hips, grinning unnaturally wide at the hillbilly.

“Bill..?”

“The one and only! So, ol’ Sixer won’t let ya sleep, huh?” He cocked his head to the side, his smile turning more cocky.

Fiddleford looked down, to his left and right, anywhere that wasn’t Bill’s face. “Oh, it ain’t like that..”

“I can tell when you’re lyingggg, smart guyyyy!” He crowded into Fidd’s personal space, looming over him like he always did.

“If Stanford wants us to stay up… I will. ‘S what you do when ya care fer someone.” He was doing that whole starry-eyed look again. Bill was starting to notice it on the hillbilly more and more.

It was disgusting. He hated it. “You’re going to bed whether I have to make you or not.”

Fiddleford crossed his arms, turning to face him in his chair head on. He stared Bill in the eyes, a determined (if tired) look on his face. “Make me, then.” Bill hated that look, the inventor had used it on him before and it made Stanford’s stupid body get all warm and jumpy every time.

His voice was low when he found it, “Careful what you wish for, Specs.” Bill lunged at Fiddleford, but missed, allowing him time to slip away and run off into another room of the house. “YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CANT HIDE!” He knew he wouldn’t go easy if he had egged him on, but the face Bill makes because of it is worth it every time, even if he’s very certain he’s going to die now. His hiding spot is good, sure, but the dropped pots and pans might have given him away.

Bill is close, he can tell. He can feel his presence looming closer. Bill slows his pace, tutting in front of him like a disappointed teacher. “I really expected better from you, Banjo.”

Fidd sighed, standing up, walking into the room, lit up by the moonlight shining through the window. One of the only ones that didn’t have Bill in it. Though, Fidd supposed, it’s got Bill in it right now. His eyes are in the reflection. “Ya really just want me to go to bed that badly?”

“Yep!” Bill took his hand, (er, more so his wrist,) dragging Fiddleford to his and Stanford’s shared room. He brought Fidd to the edge of the bed, slapping his back so hard he fell forward onto it. “Golly, ya fell real easy! Ahahaha! Just like how ya fell for Ford.”

“What was that last part?” Fidd looked at Bill, red as a cherry, but he was already gone. Stanford fell on top of him, completely knocked out cold. He tried to move the bigger man off of him as gently as he could, Stanford hitting the bed with a loud thud. He immediately started snoring.

Fiddleford chuckled to himself, got under the blankets, and fell asleep.

[imasimpforshanks]

random fluff head canons pt????

ft. ace, sabo, zoro, sanji, shanks

a/n: I’m entering my black clover era ?????) I freaking love that shit oh and I have just rewatched thriller bark and it made me fall in love with zoro all over again

when he’s tired ace is without a doubt the clingiest person you will ever meet. refuses to let you go if you wake up in the middle of the night no matter how much you warn him that you will pee the bed if he doesn’t let you go. literally whines and pouts once you finally escape his arms and doesn’t stop until you return.

whether you’re all dressed up for a date, in sweats on the couch, fresh out the shower, or you’ve quite literally just rolled out of bed, sabo always always takes a moment to remind you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have scored a hottie like yourself.

although zoro isn’t one to say “i love you” out loud (he prefers to show it through his actions), he will always say “i love you” when you’re arguing or angry at one another. in fact, it’s the first and last thing he’ll say in an argument. he wants you to know that despite current circumstances he doesn’t love you any less.

sanji is the type to fall in love with you all over again years into your relationship. like he literally gets a crush on you despite having been together forever, and he finds himself feeling giddy and acting like he did when you first got together.

shanks loves nicknames or pet names (whatever you want to call them). but the thing is, they get progressively weirder. yes, there’s the classic ‘baby’ ‘my love’ and ‘sexy’ but it can quickly progress from that to ‘foxy mama’ or ‘boo bear’ to literally something completely random like ‘my chicken pot pie’. you can never know what to expect with shanks, really.

[thevegandarkelf]

Aches & Pains: Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader

My second attempt at an x Reader fic! Please be gentle or I’ll cry, and I don’t think you want to be responsible for that, now do you? Thank you as always to @dixons-sunshine for proofreading/hyping me up 🖤

Era: Alexandria, post-Saviors war

Word count: 850

Warnings: no use of y/n, swearing, a little suggestive at the end, periods, blood (kinda? Like a brief mention of it? Reader has a uterus and is on her period), I think that’s it!

“Oh my god.”

The groan emanating from the deepest part of your chest echoed off the kitchen walls, further aggravating your already-pounding head. One moment, you were cutting carrots to add to the pot on the stovetop, and the next, you were doubled over the kitchen island, clutching your abdomen as you rested your face on the cool marble. The contrast in temperature to your searing skin provided some relief from the hot flashes plaguing your system.

A few minutes later, the front door to your home swung open, the autumn chill and sound of familiar footsteps greeting you. Your agonized moans quickly caught your husband’s attention, flipping his previous stoic demeanor to one of concern.

“S’wrong, sweetheart?” Daryl asked. He was quickly on you, planting a soft kiss on the back of your head and a tender hand on your shoulder.

“The cramps are bad this month, and my head is pounding,” you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper as another wave of pain washed over you, your breath catching in your throat, “the pain is radiating into my legs.”

“Anythin’ I can do?” He stood behind you, his calloused, work-worn hands softly pressing into your lower back, massaging in slow circles. The gentle pressure alleviated some of the pain, enough that you could comfortably breathe again. “Should prolly go lie down.”

You groaned again and looked back over your shoulder at him. “But dinner—“

“Can wait,” he insisted, cutting off what he knew would turn into anxious rambling. He kept the pace of the slow circles on your back, increasing the pressure ever so slightly, but still wanting to take it easy on you. “Ain’t gon’ have much of an appetite if I knew ya’s in agony when makin’ it.”

“I’ll be fine.” As if to put you in your place, another wave of pain rolled through, this one more intense than the last. You groaned through gritted teeth, the strained noises dripping off your lips absolutely breaking Daryl’s heart.

“How ya so stubborn in so much pain?” he asked. There was a slight astonishment in his voice, as if he himself had not also been incredibly stubborn in moments of suffering.

“Used to powering through. It’s what women had to do before the world ended. Still in the habit I guess.”

As you looked back over your shoulder at him, his sympathetic gaze met yours, the usual sparkle in your eyes dulled by the pain. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that now. C’mon. Ya layin’ down whether ya wanna r’not.”

Before you can protest, he’s gently pulling you away from the counter, scooping you up into his arms with ease. A soft giggle escapes you as you thread your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. Your soft giggle brought his signature half-smile out, and he planted a kiss on your forehead as he carried you up the stairs and placed you on the bed.

“Ya take anythin’ for the pain?” His gruff voice was silky, as it always was when he spoke to you. However, he was laying the silkiness on extra thick, like it would soothe your pounding head.

“Like an hour ago, but it’s done nothing.” You slowly moved down on the bed, the pillows below welcoming your head as you laid back.

“Gonna get ya some water,” Daryl said, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone and kissing your forehead again, “just lay there ‘n look pretty.”

A baby pink blush appeared on your cheeks. Whether it was because you were hot or you were flustered at his sweet compliment, he would never know. He bounded down the stairs, returning a minute later with a cool glass of water.

“You’re sweet, Dar,” you thanked. You shifted onto your elbows, turning yourself over slowly so you were resting on your stomach. “Can you keep rubbing my back?”

“Like ya even needed t’ask,” he assured, climbing onto the bed and straddling your legs. He quickly got to work on massaging the small of your back, his thumbs pressing in circles and slowly deepening the pressure as to not overwhelm you.

A deep, guttural sound, a mixture of gratefulness somewhere between a sigh and a groan, slipped from your mouth, muffled by your face buried in the pillow.. The soothing motions were already beginning to alleviate some of the tension. But the pain was intense, and you needed more than just a back massage. 

“Y’know, I dun’ know much ‘bout this kinda stuff, but I heard there’s a certain somethin’ that can help,” he commented, his tone still silky, but now playful and a little flirtatious. He didn’t need to say what he meant for you to know. After being married for two years, you knew that tone & its intentions. You chuckled softly, lifting your head and folding your arms underneath, resting your chin there. It was like he’d read your mind. “Oh yeah?” His hands slowly wandered lower, trailing down your hips and carefully cupping your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And ya know I ain’t phased by a little blood.”

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie @holdmytesseract

GIF made by me

© thevegandarkelf 2024. I do not consent for my work to be shared, translated, adapted, posted, or copied to this site or any platform without my explicit consent & evidence of said consent.

[headkiss]

hi!!! fall request for steve or eddie! maybe the classic giving reader their jacket when it gets a bit chilly at night <3

hiii!!! this might be a little different than what you had in mind but i hope u like it anyways <3 | 0.6k, a fluffy domestic morning with eddie!

Since moving into your own trailer together, you and Eddie have gotten to know each other better than ever before, if that was even possible.

Exact routines, whether you shower in the morning or at night, the first thing you do when you wake up, what you change into when you get home from work. Every little thing is shared and sure, he leaves his socks lying around on the floor, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s why Eddie knows exactly where to find you when he wakes up to your side of the bed being empty.

Most mornings, when neither of you are working, you’ll stay in bed until someone’s stomach growls enough to get you up, cuddling and talking, your fingers tracing his tattoos, his hands warm on your skin.

Or, you’ll be restless and get up before him, making breakfast and leaving out extra for him to warm up, reading on the porch, reorganizing his music, or taking a walk around the trailer park.

Eddie blinks his eyes open and pats your side of the bed, reaching for your warmth, but he’s met with empty sheets and a pillow with the indent of where you’d slept. Sitting up with a groan and a stretch of his arms, Eddie peeks around the room for clues of what you’re up to this morning.

He’d rather be with you than guess, though, so he gets up quickly, tugging on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, his hair sure to be a mess.

The kitchen smells like coffee, a pot sitting half empty. As he pours himself a mug, he spots you through the window.

You’re sitting on the small porch of the trailer, a coffee mug resting on the arm of your chair, hair tossed up in a clip.

Eddie smiles at the sight of you there, at peace, in your home that’s also his. He grabs his leather jacket from where it’s slung over the back of a kitchen chair and steps outside.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, voice still scratchy from sleep.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

Fall mornings are crisp, the sun bright but not warm enough to cover the coolness of the wind, fresh smell of leaves and the colors more vibrant after having just woken up.

Eddie sets his mug down on the empty chair, walking over to you, bending down to press a kiss to your hair and tossing his jacket over your shoulders.

“You’re gonna catch a cold one of these days,” he tells you, making sure his jacket rests on you comfortably. When he sits down, he tugs your chair closer to his, his hand finding yours beneath the fabric of his coat.

“You’d take care of me, though.” You tangle your fingers with his, already feeling warmer than before. Really, you’d warmed up the second he stepped outside. “Wouldn’t you?”

“‘Course I would, but then you’d get me sick, and you’d take care of me, and it’d be the worst cycle ever. Snotty tissues and shit.”

“Eddie!”

“Just saying! Wear a coat, stop the cycle, babe.”

You smile, turning your head to look at Eddie, his hair frizzy, his eyes still a little heavy from sleep, his cheeks pink from the bite of the fall breeze.

“Why wear my own coat when you could be all romantic and give me yours?”

“I do like being romantic,” he says, tilting his head. “Don’t tell Wayne I said that. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Eddie’s tone is light, teasing, because Wayne’s already fully aware of how bad Eddie’s got it for you, and he already gives him shit for it.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Munson.”

[neiptune]

atsumu miya x will you be my new year's kiss?

Atsumu walks through the door with a few presents balanced in his arms, thick scarf covering his face up to his nose. The apartment is unusually quiet, the only details confirming your presence the colorful lights on the tree you decorated together the first day of december and a few pots left on the stove.

“Babe?”, he calls, confused. Maybe you’re getting ready for the party, which gives him enough time to take his coat off and sort all the boxes. He finally picked up the gifts he couldn’t give on christmas, Bokuto’s legendary new year's eve dinner celebration the perfect chance to check the remaining names off his list: Kiyoomi, Shoyo, Shugo, Rin, Shion. You helped him pick every gift but Atsumu refused to have his sense of creativity fully obscured by your good taste. He hopes Kiyoomi will enjoy his brand new, expensive antibacterial hand sanitizer.

As he walks upstairs, he calls for you again but once more there is no response. He finds you in your shared bedroom, head buried underneath a million blankets, a weak cough the only sign of life he gets.

“Baby? Are you okay?”, he rushes to your side, lifts the covers just enough to get a glimpse of your exhausted face.

“’Tsumu, you’re home”, you try to clear your throat but it still comes out in a hoarse whisper, “sorry, I think you’re gonna have to go to the party alone. I’m sick”.

“You’re sick? How did this happen? It was that asshole colleague of yours, wasn’t it? The one who always comes to the office with a fever, that jacka-”

“I just think going grocery shopping with my hair still wet wasn’t smart”, you chuckle from underneath che covers, “I’ll be fine, just wanna rest tonight. Tell everyone I said hi, ‘kay?”.

Atsumu frowns.

“What? No way I’m leaving ya alone, I’m not going”, he’s alrady taking off his tie by the time your half-lidded gaze emerges once more.

“No, ‘Tsumu! Please go and have fun, it’s new year’s eve!”.

“Nuh uh, I’m making ya soup and putting my pajamas on”.

“But-”

“Rest yer voice, pretty. D’you need any medicine? I can run to the nearest pharmacy”.

You weakly shake your head no.

“I’m fine, it’s just a cold. Some paracetamol will do”.

Atsumu feels your forehead with the back of his hand and smiles, dipping his head to gently press his lips to it afterwards. He murmurs some sweet reassurances into your skin, strokes your hair and tenderly puts out the last embers of your objections. It’s not a bother, his friends will understand, you didn’t ruin anything, he’s happy he gets to take care of his girl.  

Atsumu likes to party but he always says all he needs are those he loves, what he’s doing is hardly important. People make his moments and you happen to be his favorite person.

His new year’s eve is hardly ruined as he hums in your kitchen, puts together your favorite chicken noodle soup as you sniffle upstairs. He cuts fresh bread, makes lemon tea and fills your biggest cup with water, quick and efficient as the situation requires.

When he’s back by your side, tray in hand, you sit up with a deep groan and Atsumu gets comfortable on the side of the bed, insists on feeding you the best soup ever made. After every spoon, the question of whether you can feel all the love put in there makes you break into an exasperated smile.

“Did you eat?”, you take the medicine he hands, grateful, then melt against the pillows once more.

“Yes”, he lies.

“Go eat something”. Atsumu huffs at how easily you read him.

“Later, ’m not hungry”, he feels your temperature with his hand again, then boops your nose to make you laugh.

“I’m sorry”, you sigh, “this is so not how I wanted this night to go”.

“Stop apologizing or I’m gonna have to do it too next time I get sick”, he walks to the other side of the bed and lifts the covers, “and ya know how I feel about apologizing”.

“Go sleep in the guest room! I’ll make you s-”

“Ya talk too much”, once in bed, with a content sigh Atsumu wraps his arm around your body and pulls you in, “besides, I have a question”.

“What?”, you grumble, adjusting yourself to rest your head on his shoulder. He gently rubs your arm, turns his head just enough for his lips to graze your forehead as he speaks again.

“Will you be my new year’s kiss?”.

“Why do I feel like you won’t take no as an answer?”, despite the frustration in your tone, you chuckle.

“Damn right I won’t”, Atsumu smiles. Kissing you is worth getting sick. Kissing you is worth anything, really.

dear @heavenlyakin, a sweet secret santa dropped by to leave this gift for you! happy holidays 🎄

[bbokarimenu]

Sick Day

pairing: bang chan x fem reader

genre: fluff

warnings: None

an: Ahhh it’s my first imagine 🤩

The sound of rain tapping softly against the windows filled the apartment, creating a calm, soothing atmosphere as I hovered over the stove, stirring a pot of warm soup. I couldn’t help but glance down the hallway toward the bedroom, where Chan was resting. The poor guy had come down with a nasty cold, and though he tried to convince me he was fine this morning, the fever had told me otherwise.

Chan never let himself rest, always running on little sleep and too much coffee, so I was determined to take care of him today, whether he liked it or not.

After turning off the stove, I filled a bowl with the soup, grabbed a glass of water, and headed back to the bedroom. Pushing the door open quietly, I found him exactly where I’d left him—propped up against a mound of pillows, his hair a mess, and his face flushed from the fever.

“Hey,” I said softly, setting the tray on the nightstand. “I brought you some soup.”

He gave me a tired smile, his voice raspy as he replied, “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yes, I did. You need to rest, and I’m making sure you’re eating and drinking something. You always take care of everyone else, so let me do this, okay?”

Chan’s smile softened, and he reached out to take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re too good to me.”

I shook my head with a small laugh. “I could say the same about you.”

As I helped him sit up, getting the tray in place for him to eat, his phone suddenly buzzed from the nightstand. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was Changbin calling. Of course, the work never stopped, even when Chan was sick.

Before he could reach for the phone, I snatched it up and held it out of his reach, giving him a stern look. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“Come on, it’s probably important,” he croaked, trying to make a grab for it.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I said, giving him a teasing glare. “Work can wait.”

He sighed, knowing I wasn’t going to let him win this one. I answered the call, holding the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Changbin,” I greeted cheerfully.

“Oh, hey! Is Chan there? I need to ask him about something for the track—”

I cut him off quickly. “Yeah, nope. He’s sick and not working today. Doctor’s orders.”

Changbin hesitated. “Sick? Ah, man, I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do. He needs rest, and I’m making sure he gets it,” I said firmly, glancing over at Chan, who was watching me with amused, tired eyes.

Changbin chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll check in with him later.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Binnie. Love you, but bye!” And with that, I hung up before Changbin could argue, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand. Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

“You just hung up on him?”

I grinned. “Yep. He’ll survive. You, however, need to rest, so no more work.”

Chan shook his head, his smile filled with affection as he reached out to pull me closer. “You’re something else, you know that?”

I leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against his forehead, careful of his fever. “I’m just looking out for you, like you always do for everyone else.”

He let out a content sigh, his arm wrapping around me and pulling me down to rest beside him on the bed. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

I nuzzled into his chest, feeling his warmth, even though I knew it was partly from the fever. “No, I am.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting despite his raspy voice. “We’re both lucky then.”

As we lay there, wrapped up in each other, I listened to the rain and the steady beat of his heart, knowing that as long as he was resting, he’d get better soon. And I’d be right here by his side, making sure of it—even if I had to confiscate his phone again.

“Now,” I whispered, looking up at him, “go back to sleep, Mr. Workaholic.”

He smiled, his eyes closing as his grip around me tightened slightly. “Only if you stay here with me.”

“Always,” I whispered back, pressing another kiss to his forehead. And with that, he drifted off to sleep, finally letting himself relax.