#you are SO sweet and this warmed my heart

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏

Mr Crawling

Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.

He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.

Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.

Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.

Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.

He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.

Mr Scarletella

Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.

You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.

So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.

And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.

So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.

He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.

Mr Silvair

Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.

All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.

He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.

So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.

Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀

Mr Gap

This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.

You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.

Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.

So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.

Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.

[niilue]

⎯ like that time you were teaching vi how to french kiss ⎯

cw: female reader, shy and inexperienced vi, french kiss, sweet reader, fluff with a lot of sexual tension. vi is so adorable, she can't help but say she loves you bc of the way you treat her <33333.

you look into her eyes, knowing that vi is a storm of nerves, and you smile softly, trying to calm her. “ready?” you whisper, and she nods, unable to articulate a single word. you slowly bring your face closer to hers, feeling her shaky breath against your lips. her eyes close just as your mouths meet, your tongues accidentally touching. the surprise overtakes her, and she pulls back a step.

“there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, vi,” you say tenderly. “we’ll try again, but this time at your pace, okay?”

vi nods with her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining with a mix of fear and excitement. you pull her gently by the waist, bringing her closer to you, and her lips part slightly. her breathing becomes uneven, and you can feel her heart racing wildly. your tongues move timidly, testing, exploring, and every movement is clumsy and adorable at the same time. she lets out a soft moan, and you suppress a laugh, knowing that the sweetness of the moment is what’s making her even more nervous.

“shh, relax pretty,” you whisper, and your lips move with more confidence, your tongues dancing in a gentle melody of discovery.

sensing her inexperience, you softly take the lead, guiding her lips and tongue with yours. vi begins to relax, following your movements with growing confidence. her breathing becomes labored, and her arms tighten around your waist. her mouth opens slightly more, allowing you to deepen the kiss, which evolves into an exchange of saliva and soft sounds that escape from her lips. her tongue entangles with yours in a clumsy dance, every caress and lick confessing her nervousness. her eyes open for a brief moment, revealing the innocence behind her masked aggression, and you pause, captivated by the tenderness of the desire in her gaze.

her face reddens even more, and you feel warmth spreading through your chest, knowing that you’re affecting her in exactly the way you want. “see?” you whisper. “it’s not so bad, right?” she nods, and you kiss her again, this time with the intention of making her feel safe and cherished. her lips are soft and warm, and each kiss you give her brings her closer to comfort. as the kiss deepens, her breathing intertwines with yours, and vi’s hands move to your back, caressing you tenderly. she lets out a small moan that melts into the tension-filled air, and you hold her even tighter, savoring the taste of her innocence and the passion awakening in every caress.

vi clings to you more intensely, her lips moving with yours, every lick you give her mouth igniting her further. her teeth clash awkwardly against yours as she tries to imitate your caresses, and the saliva begins to flow between you, creating a sticky sound that fills the silence of the room. her eyes open and close to the rhythm of the kiss, the moonlight filtering through the window illuminating her flushed face.

“is this what a kiss with… with…” she whispers, unable to finish her sentence as every attempt to speak turns into a gasp.

“yes, my love, with the tongue,” you reply with a mischievous smile, never stopping the kiss.

she processes your response and continues, now with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. she starts to respond with her own tongue, sliding it into your mouth, licking your lips and teeth with the clumsiness of someone discovering a new taste and texture. her movements are erratic, full of unrestrained passion, and with each lick she gives you, you feel her handing over another piece of her vulnerability.

“vi, slow down,” you whisper, gently guiding her face, showing her the softness she’s capable of.

she calms down for a moment, her eyes opening, revealing the confusion and fear of not being what you want, of not knowing what you’re looking for. you look at her tenderly, caressing her cheek with the tip of your finger, making her understand that there’s nothing to fear, that you’re guiding her on this path of discovery.

the kiss turns wild again, the tension rises, and the room fills with the sound of her moans and your whispered reassurances. your mouth explores hers, your tongues intertwining, separating, and meeting again in a sensual and sinuous dance that seems endless. the training room becomes a refuge of passion and discovery, and in every moment, vi’s hardness fades, revealing the sweetness hidden beneath her tough exterior.

her breathing turns into gasps, her hands move urgently across your back, and the sensation of her fingers caressing your skin is exquisite. the kiss has become a storm she can’t control, an explosion of desire that overwhelms her, embarrassing her and, at the same time, filling her with a pleasure she never imagined.

in an experienced gesture, you take her chin, pausing the storm of kisses for a moment, and look into her eyes. in that instant, you see the life behind the tough facade she shows the world. “relax, you’re perfect,” you whisper, and she, with her gaze clouded by excitement, smiles shyly at you, letting you know that despite the clumsiness, what she feels is real, pure, and that she doesn’t want the kiss to end.

with your hearts beating in unison, you continue the lesson, guiding vi through this uncharted territory. every deep kiss and every caress of your tongues becomes a promise of what you could be. her nails lightly press into your skin, an instinctive response to the pleasure overwhelming her. her eyes widen, and in them, you see a mixture of wonder, desire, and a little bit of fear. you caress her gently, letting her know that everything is in her hands, that she’s the one in control, the one deciding the pace.

catching her breath, vi begins to take the lead, kissing you with the intensity she feels, returning the passion you’ve taken the time to awaken in her. her mouth opens, and her saliva mingles with yours in a clumsy and beautiful union. her moans grow louder, and the sexual tension that has built up in the room is palpable. your breathing quickens, your hands move down her back, pulling her hips closer to yours, and the sensation of her curves against you is deliciously overwhelming.

your lips part, panting in unison, saliva glistening at the corners of your mouths. her eyes open, full of disbelief and excitement. “that… that was…” vi stammers, her hands clutching your shirt.

you smile, caressing her cheek. “that was a kiss. a real kiss.”

she looks at your mouth, temptation glowing in her eyes. “can we try again?”

“of course,” you reply, your lips moving toward hers again.

your lips meet in a kiss even more passionate than the last, your tongues tangling, testing, learning. her nails dig into your back, pushing your mouth against hers, and the sound of crumpled fabric joins your gasps.

“ah…” vi moans, and the sound pierces your chest.

“do you like it?” you whisper against her lower lip.

she nods, and her mouth opens, inviting you to deepen it further. she begins to move her tongue, mimicking your caresses, and every movement is a step forward in trust and comfort.

“yes… more…” she whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the plea in her tone.

the kiss intensifies, the training room turning into a whirlwind of passion, and the night stretches out before you, full of possibilities and discoveries.

“i… i love you,” vi murmurs, her hot breath brushing against your neck.

your hands freeze, your eyes snapping open in shock. “what?”

she pulls away, covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes filled with panic. “i… i’m sorry, i shouldn’t… i didn’t mean…”

you grab her shoulders, stopping her torrent of apologies. “vi, don’t worry. that wasn’t bad. i love you too, i always have..."

she looks at you, insecurity battling with emotion. “really?”

you nod, smiling sincerely. “really.”

with a sigh of relief, vi hugs you, and your mouths find each other again, her confession still lingering in the air. the kiss softens, now filled with an affection that wasn’t obvious in the earlier clumsiness and overwhelming desire.

“vi, if you want, there are many more lessons i can teach you,” you whisper in her ear, prompting her to bite your earlobe in affirmation of her desire.

“tell me what else you want us to do?” she asks, eager to learn.

you smile, savoring the excitement of the night ahead. “let the magic take its course,” you say, kissing her again, guiding her in the dance of desire, letting her feel every step she takes on this entirely new journey for her.

[chuluoyi]

✎ a birthday to remember

- gojo satoru x reader

what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex

note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sensei— happy birthday!”

This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.

If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and stay at home would most likely make you feel lonely.

Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chipped in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.

You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—

“Wifeeeey!”

“Oh my god!”

You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—

Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.

“Satoru...?”

He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”

Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.

He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”

“Yes—”

His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”

“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”

“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”

In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.

His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right�� Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”

“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”

“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”

“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”

Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”

Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.

But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.

Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.

And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.

You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”

“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”

“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”

"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.

Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.

Click! Click!

"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.

Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”

You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”

Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.

Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.

“—?! Satoru!”

A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”

“You're absolutely shameless.”

“But you love me anyway~”

You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.

“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”

. . .

He was right. It fit you perfectly.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.

And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.

"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”

His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.

And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?

As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!

"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.

"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.

Did you want this?

Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.

In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.

Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."

He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.

"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.

He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...

His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—

"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."

How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.

"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."

The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."

Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."

Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.

"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."

He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.

The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"

Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.

"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?

"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.

He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?

The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.

"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."

You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.

"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.

Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.

In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.

Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."

You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.

His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.

Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.

(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)

Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.

Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.

"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.

"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"

"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."

"Hush, I'm fine."

After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.

Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?

"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"

A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"

You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.

"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Sylus: Sweet Night | SFW

Am I entering a Sylus era? No, no I'm not. I just love them all and got this idea real fast and needed to quickly type it out.

Pairings: Sylus x Reader Warnings: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Sylus

Whenever he goes to bed, you're just waking up, and whenever it's time for you to go to bed, he's already drinking his morning coffee in the kitchen. It was one of the few things you absolutely despised about your schedules. Just once, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

Sylus could see it on your face as you were pouting, heading towards the bedroom. You didn't even know when you came to just casually sleep at his place almost every night, but it was part of your routine now.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing how you seemed to be sulking as you turned to him. How did you even voice what you wanted? It wasn't like he could help it, in the end. His meetings took place late evening and at night, while your work started early in the day.

He noticed the hesitation as he walked over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, "Come on, you can tell me." he coaxed, his words sweet and gentle in your ears, a tone reserved only for you.

You let out a sigh, looking up at him, "I just...do you think sometime we can...go to bed together. And wake up together?" you decided a direct approach was always best with Sylus. He was accommodating to you all the time, as long as you spoke what was on your mind.

He hummed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your temple, "Is that all you wanted?" he murmured against you, "Then how about...next week? I can clear my schedule then, and we can have a day, start to finish." he settled on, making your heart soar.

"You'd do that for me?" you asked, feeling so content in the moment as he hummed, the sound vibrating against you.

"It's not like you're asking for much, sweetie, honestly you could've asked for far more and I'd still go along with it." he said and you chuckled.

"I'll hold you to that, then." you said, reaching an arm up to drag him down for a quick kiss.

You felt like that week dragged on, your entire mind only focusing on your plans for Friday night. Getting off work and immediately heading towards the N109 zone. You were exhausted beyond belief, but the comforting feeing of walking into the familiar Onychinous base made you feel at ease.

Instead of seeing Sylus in his robe, sipping on coffee while going through his phone, you saw him still fully dressed from his day. He had a sweet smile as he beckoned you closer.

A warm shower, soft words, and finally, finally, the soft embrace of his bed. HIs arms wrapped securely around you as you pressed your face into his neck, your hand over his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. Even still, it ran wild, but that too was oddly calming for you now.

He squeezed you closer to him, and he looked just as exhausted as you were, "Did you pull an all dayer for this?" you teased him, your voice coming out softer now as he looked at you and smirked.

"Obviously," he murmured, "I wouldn't be able to sleep if I was working off my normal schedule." he said, pinching your side and making you squirm closer to him until you were hooking a leg around his.

You were silent for a moment as you thought things over, "I...thank you for doing this for me." you finally said, pressing a kiss to the wide expanse of his chest that you could reach from your angle.

"It's not much, you shouldn't praise someone doing the bare minimum, darling," he said, "Raise your standards."

"My standards are already incredibly high thanks to you, sir," you scoffed playfully. His face was pressed into your hair now, and you could feel him smiling against you.

"That's how it should be...besides, this seemed important to you. You seemed stressed last week about the whole ordeal." he pointed out and you blinked for a moment, processing his words. You didn't realize you had shown that many signs of it bothering you, but Sylus did have a tendency to be able to read you like an open book.

"Ya, I guess I was..." you said, "I just," the words were embarrassing to admit, "Tara had talked about how nice it was to fall asleep and wake up in the arms of her current boyfriend, and I felt a bit envious over it. I thought that wouldn't be possible for us."

Sylus hummed, "If you want, I can put more of an effort into laying with you until you fall asleep, and coming back before you wake up." he commented.

"What if I wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Then call me, and I'll come back," he said, "Now hush, we're both tired, and need sleep. As much as I enjoy our little talk, you had a long day, didn't you?" he asked and you hummed.

"I assume Mephisto was reporting about my work day?"

"He always does," Sylus said, "Now sleep, I promise, for at least tonight, even if you wake up in the middle of the night, I'll still be here."

"Alright, goodnight Sylus."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

[shrimpybbq]

green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

[thebiggerbear]

This was the very first thing by you that I ever read and I fell in love with it as well as your writing!!! One of my favorite Dean scenes in the later seasons is the dream Sam has with the pizza and pie, and Mary calling him "little piglet...with love". Plus you included the Latin flair on one of my favorite holidays, girl, my heart was bursting at the seams as I read this while also drooling while also slightly jealous of Dean LOL. (you should know as I'm typing this I am daydreaming about the flan, you should just straight up know that LOL)

The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.

I am happily being led while pushing Dean out of the way to get to it first. Lovingly of course lol.

“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer. You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.

Not going to lie, I'd be giving Sam a little bit of the stink eye myself. What is so wrong with Dean enjoying himself a little? Besides...give me ALL the flan!!! Sam doesn't know what he's missing.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.

This made me smile because it is so sweet and so Dean. ❤️

“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter. “So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.

Exactly. Let the man enjoy it.

“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.” Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right. “You don’t remember?” you gently ask. Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…” He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry. It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.

This right here is perfection. It made my heart break for Dean as well as Sam for their childhood, what Dean had to sacrifice at times to take care of Sam, how Sam never realized it before...just so perfectly written and so on point.

You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.

Okay, this is just beyond sweet. Literally made me

Moments like this are worth melting for. 😉 (seriously though, I'm pretty sure I have to call someone to get the wetvac to get me up off of the floor)

The whole ending scene just makes my heart glad, especially with her offering to go for a walk with Dean, most likely keeping in mind what Sam said (while Sam is keeping what she said in mind - like I said, perfection!) , but I especially loved the ending sequence right here:

Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.” It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at. You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.” Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him. “Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off. Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you. “Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”

Oh, Dean, nice try. We all know you do. 😉

This was just beyond sweet and it was something I very much needed back when I read through it the first time. (I'm sorry I didn't leave feedback until now! I'm trying to be better about that these days) I love the way you write the Winchesters and this one shot cemented you as one of my favorite writers I've come across in this fandom (as well as a few others 😉).

I definitely cannot wait to dive into the Midnight Espresso verse and get more of these two. You did a beautiful job here, lovely!!! Well done!!! 😊💖💖

Get Stuffed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @iprobablyshipit91: Sam making the usual digs at Dean about his diet, and how much he eats, and the reader pulling him aside and telling him to back off as he doesn’t realize how much Dean went hungry as a kid to make sure Sam was fed.

Word Count: 1,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, innuendo, tinge of angst

**This story can be read as stand-alone, but you can also check out the full masterlist of one-shots below. ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.

This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.

He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…

“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.

You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he's seated.

“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”

He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.

“Ohoho, yeah.”

You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.

You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.

“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.

“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.

The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.

“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”

He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk. You glance at him with a smile as you set down the metal pan.

“It is a flan,” you affirm. “I tried my hand at coconut this time.”

“Ooh, tropical,” Dean says, waggling greasy fingers. He wipes them on a napkin before he reaches for the pie cutter, which is usually reserved for his favorite dessert. Although, flan is rapidly becoming his second go-to. The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.

“How can I get you to make this more often?” Dean mutters while carving out a generous slice.

Your lips curve. You rest your chin on your hand and lean towards him, earning his gaze. “If I made it all the time, you wouldn’t savor it, now would you?”

Dean smirks. His gaze lowers to your lips, like he’s contemplating some persuasive maneuvers.

“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer.

You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.

By the end of the meal, all three of you are stuffed. Dean groans and leans back in his seat. A gurgle mounts audibly from his stomach.

“Jesus. Are you erupting?” Sam says.

Dean holds up a finger. “Wait for it.”

You give your boyfriend a bemused look. You know exactly what’s about to happen. As does Sam, who’s grimacing.

A few seconds later, Dean does erupt, with a truly legendary belch.

“Nice,” you say wryly. Dean squeezes your soft, thick thigh and backs his chair away from the table.

“Well, since I roasted the pig and you did the rest, I’d say it’s Sammy’s turn on cleaning duty,” he says.

“Thanks,” Sam says, with a wan smile. Yours is more jovial, even as Dean’s hand toys with a curl of your hair after he stands.

“I’m gonna shower off the meat sweats,” he says.

You giggle, but you nod. “You do that. I’ll help Sam a bit, put away the food at least.”

Your smile becomes more genuine when Dean drops a kiss on your forehead from above.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.

You reach up and give his cheek a tender touch, before he withdraws and makes his way to the bedroom he shares with you. It leaves you and Sam to collect what’s on the table and bring it all into the kitchen. While Sam does the dishes, you start to put away the leftovers.

Something has been nagging at you all night, though you’ve tried to stamp it down time and time again. You don’t know if it's your place to say something. Especially if Dean doesn’t seem bothered…but it bothers you. And you’ve never been one to hold your tongue.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you begin, even as a small bit of trepidation niggles inside you.

Sam looks over at you. He’s quick to catch the serious note in your demeanor.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he replies. You okay? his eyes also ask.

“Why do you get on Dean so much for enjoying his food?” you ask.

Sam blinks. Then he scoffs a little. “There’s enjoying, and then there’s gluttony.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue.

“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter.

“So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.

Sam levels you with pinched brows. “He’s not in his 20s anymore. All that crap he eats is going to catch up to him someday.”

“What, you expect him to down some kale smoothies?” you reply, giving a pointed brow raise and a teasing smile. “Get up at the crack of dawn for a bare-chested run?”

Sam shoots you a dry look.  

“My point is, I’m not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks just to get taken down by cholesterol,” he says.

You sigh a raise a placating hand. “All right. I get what you’re saying. I’m just saying…have you ever thought about why he loves food so much? Why he overindulges sometimes?”

Sam's brow quirks. It’s a question you know you need to tread lightly in order to answer. You uncross your arms to lay a hand on Sam’s wrist. He stops washing dishes and turns off the sink to give you his full attention, sensing your shift.

You look up at him, and you steel yourself.

“He might’ve mentioned once…that you two sometimes had a hard time growing up. With John taking you guys from motel to motel while he was working a job, and every now and then, leaving you guys alone longer than he meant to.”

Dean had been more than a bit drunk when you’d gotten this out of him. Hearing about that aspect of his upbringing had upset you, not just as someone who cared about him, but the caretaker in you smarted.

“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.”

Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right.

“You don’t remember?” you gently ask.

Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…”

He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry.

It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.

This isn’t the first time he’s had to reexamine Dean’s role in his life, and not the first time he’s felt this flavor of guilt. But he sighs and really doesn’t know what to say.

You seem to realize that, and you squeeze his arm one last time.

“Just keep that in mind,” you implore.

You soon leave him to venture upstairs, but there in the kitchen, Sam makes a resolution before the new year. One that includes having a conversation with his brother.

You find Dean in your bedroom. Now in his most threadbare sweatpants and an old black shirt, he lays over the covers on the bed. His eyes are closed and his arms are folded behind his head, but he hears you when you come in.

You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.

“Think I overdid it a bit,” he admits, cracking his eyes open. You smile and gently pat his stomach. 

“Wanna go for a walk tomorrow?” you ask. “We can go down to the park.”

Dean raises a brow at you. “You hate walking.”

“Not true,” you shake your head, before you rest more comfortably against him. He tucks you in beside him and begins to run his fingers down your arm. It’s a bit distracting.

“Could be nice, with the right view,” you add, though you shiver a little at his touch.

Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.”

It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at.

You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.”

Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him.

“Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off.

Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”

AN: 😂 A little callback to S1 at the end there. I hope you guys liked this! Just in time to prepare for my Christmas cooking! ❤️💚

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Wish to Build a Dream On":

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

▶️ Next Story: A Wish to Build a Dream On

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[jaemna]

— [ 9:43pm ]

wc 1.5k

sunghoon x fem!reader

smut mdni, sub!hoon x dom!reader (ig technically they’re switches but that’s the majority) orgasm denial, crying, slight choking, hair pulling? kinda?, light bondage, idk lmk if there’s more! this is my first smut in a long time so i hope you like it 🫶🏻

with two thick strips of pale pink silk binding sunghoon’s wrists to the bedframe, he instinctively grips tightly in an attempt to ground himself, his knuckles burning white, his nails nearly digging indents into the dark oak wood.

he’s unable to stop himself from letting out a deep, breathy moan when you purposely clench around his cock, trapped in the limbo between heaven and hell. he’s been inside you for so long now, and you haven’t let him cum, not even once. he’s starting to lose his resolve, and you can see it.

smirking proudly at your power over him, you give his shoulders a light squeeze as you move up and down, up and down on him slowly; torturingly slowly. a beautiful sigh greets you when you lean in and meet the sweet spot on his neck with your wet lips, massaging over it with your tongue, sucking and nipping your way along his soft skin to create little purple bruises.

sunghoon catches his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle a gravely groan when his hips buck up into yours by instinct; he throws his head back against the pillow propped up behind him, his dark hair a frizzy mess from the pillow case, his wrists once again tugging unsuccessfully against the silky restraints on either side of his head.

you immediately stop your movement, lifting your head from the crook of his neck to glance at him, still gnawing his lip as he pants. you lift your hand to run a thumb softly over his lip to free it from his teeth, releasing his heavy breaths into the humid air.

“mmh, so pretty,” you coo at him, the softness of your voice directly contradicting the agonizing nature of your actions. running your finger over the plush of his lip, you feel the heat of his breath on your fingertips, his cute little fangs on display as his mouth parts slightly at your teasing touch. “don’t hide from me, baby,” you scold him lightly, watching as his head lolls to the side, exhausted.

“‘m sorry,” sunghoon sighs, looking up at you with tired, glossy eyes, completely fucked out and wrapped around your pretty finger. but still, your other arm travels up, tracing like a feather over his skin and leaving a shiver in it’s wake as your hand grips his throat lightly to squeeze, making him let out a whimper.

“say it right,” you breathe into his ear, making his heart pound. you feel his adam’s apple bob against your palm.

“i’m sorry, my love,” he corrects himself. you smile at him, connecting your lips in a sloppy reward of a kiss, followed by a mumble of a ‘good boy’ as you begin to move again, still excruciatingly slowly.

“baby- god, plea- ohh god, mmmph” sunghoon slurs, lost in his spinning mind of pleasure and pain.

“use your words, baby,” you hum, licking a warm stripe along just under his jaw. his hands clench into fists above his head as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“please, please move faster, baby. please let me-" he sighs, “-let me cum,” he whines, so so desperately. it’s the first time he’s dared to ask, and you have to bite back a smile at how close you’ve pushed him toward his breaking point. it’s hard not to comply when he’s so good for you.

but instead, “awh hoonie, what happened to ladies first? did you forget your manners?”

sunghoon’s brows furrow together at that, puffing his lips up in a pretty pout. maybe any other time he’d agree, but now- after he’s already lost count of how many times you’ve gotten yourself off tonight, and how many times you’ve brought him so close to the edge, only to be yanked backwards and forced onto his knees just to stare at the threshold he was about to cross- he feels himself rapidly approaching insanity.

if his brain hadn’t been so foggy, he would have immediately regret showing any amount of discontent upon seeing your knowing look. but it’s pretty instant anyway, when you begin to move faster, once again without granting him the permission he needs to let go.

sunghoon chokes out a whiney groan in surprise, a hopeless whimper following it. you’ve never heard such a pathetic sound fall from his lips before. he’s suffocating, and yet you still snake your hands up his chest and neck, taking a soft yet firm hold on both sides of his jaw, and you force him to watch you.

you angle yourself so precisely on his lap as you bounce yourself up and down, sunghoon’s cock aching and begging for release as you use him to hit just the right spot inside you over and over. your voice is so so pretty, smooth and velvety as a chorus of praises tumble out but all he can hear as they meet his ears is the mocking, the feigned gratitude displayed as you use him to ride yourself through your own high with no regard for his.

sunghoon’s head feels heavy; it slips from your fingers and falls forward to rest in the crook of your neck, and it takes every last bit of strength he has left in him to bite his tongue and keep himself from releasing inside you despite the way your pussy clenches and flutters around him when you finally cum again, as if it’s begging to milk him dry just as much as he is himself.

delirious, his mind is in a blur, and sunghoon barely notices when you finally come down with a heavy sigh. you grab a fistful of hair and gently tug his head back from your shoulder. his neck falls limp, lolling back and thudding against the pillow once again.

your heart hammers when you see his face; his cheeks are pretty and red, his brows still furrowed and his eyes screwed shut, and warm fresh tears spill from his lashes, leaving wet, glistening streaks down his face.

complete awe overtakes you for a moment. you reach a hand up, the pad of your thumb dusting along his cheek to wipe a tear away. sunghoon swallows hard, instinctively leaning into your sweet touch.

“please,” he begs again, barely audible, like a broken prayer, and your chest swells with a sick sense of pride.

you brush his hair from his sticky forehead, pressing a few soft kisses to his flushed skin and one more lingering one to his lips, swollen from his biting. he hums, leaning forward a bit to chase you, still satisfied with your affection despite what you’ve put him through.

“do you think you deserve it?” you whisper, your breath making his skin tingle. he finally opens his eyes, his irises twinkling as he scans your face. he takes in your questioning look, your head tilted and eyebrows raised, and he answers with an eager nod. his hips jolt up into you, and you press your hands against his abdomen to keep him steady. he gives an apologetic look.

his breathing is heavy, labored, and his mind struggles to connect the dots. his confusion on why you stopped him is quickly sedated when he sees you reach up and wrap the silk strands around both your fingers, releasing them at the same time and letting them flutter down to the pillows.

a switch completely flips, and with his newfound mobility sunghoon grabs you and flips you over in a fraction of a second. your back hits the mattress with a thud, a surprised gasp pulled from your lungs and a devilish grin appearing on your face as you pant, feeling sunghoon’s hand grip around the pulse point on the column of your neck.

he wastes no time, grabbing one of your thighs and yanking your leg up, pushing his angry cock back inside you. he lets out a growl as he finally gets to pound into you with no restraint, the force of his thrusts knocking the headboard into the wall.

“brat,” the baritone of his voice rumbles next to your ear. “you’re such-” a grunt. “such a brat.”

he’s cumming before he can even get the last syllable past his lips, unable and unwilling to push it off any longer than you’ve already forced him to. he sinks his teeth into your collarbone to stifle his moans, the vibration making you whine as he fills you up, rope after rope after rope, far past the point he’s ever reached before.

his thrusts finally slow after a while, his body trembling, and you sift your fingers through the hair that curls under his ear, scratching your nails against his scalp, soothing him while his body and mind are still buzzing as he comes down from his high.

when his breathing is steady, you press another kiss to his burning lips. but as you shift to get up, his hands are on your shoulders and he shoves you back down. he grips your chin and turns your head sharply to look at him. a fire still flickers in his pupils.

“i’m not done with you yet.”

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere young Justice x villain reader

The night was alive with tension, shadows dancing in the flickering glow of streetlights, as Young Justice faced you once more. You were the storm they could never predict, the haunting melody that lingered long after the music stopped. Their nemesis since the team’s inception, you had become something far more dangerous—a fixation, a flaw in the armor of their resolve.

“Give it up,” Robin growled, his staff twirling with precision. He stood at the center of the team, their ever-stoic leader, though his sharp eyes betrayed a storm brewing beneath the surface. “We end this tonight.”

Your laugh spilled into the air like silk, smooth and dangerous. “End it?” you echoed, stepping forward with a lazy grace. “My dear, we’ve barely begun.”

Every word dripped with a taunting charm, a velvet dagger aimed straight at their hearts. Robin’s jaw tightened, his composure threatening to crack. You weren’t just an enemy. You were his enemy—the one he couldn’t quite unravel, couldn’t quite forget.

Superboy lunged, his movements raw and forceful, like a hurricane desperate to prove its strength. “Stop talking,” he snapped, his fists swinging with earth-shattering power.

But you sidestepped him with a predator’s ease, your fingertips grazing his arm as you passed. “Oh, Kon,” you purred, your voice as sweet as it was venomous. “So quick to anger. What’s the matter? Afraid of how much you want me to keep talking?”

The growl that tore from his throat was animalistic, but it didn’t mask the flush creeping up his neck.

Above, Miss Martian hovered, her hands glowing with psychic energy, her voice soft and imploring. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her words brushing against your mind like a fragile promise. “There’s still good in you. I can feel it.”

You turned your gaze upward, your eyes catching hers with a look that felt like a snare. “Feel it, do you?” you asked, your voice lilting like a melody that didn’t belong in the battlefield. “Or is that just wishful thinking, Megan? Tell me—” you stepped closer, your tone softening to a whisper that somehow felt louder than the chaos around you—“do you want to save me, or do you just want me?”

Her power faltered, her focus breaking as she stumbled back to the ground.

“You’re insufferable,” Artemis hissed, her bowstring taut as she loosed an arrow aimed directly at you.

You caught the movement out of the corner of your eye and dodged, the arrow slicing through the air where you had just been. “Ah, Artemis,” you said with a sly grin. “Always so sharp. But tell me, is it hatred I see in those eyes... or something else entirely?”

She fired another arrow in response, her hands trembling even as her aim stayed true.

Kid Flash zipped around you, a blur of speed and frustration. “Why don’t you ever shut up?” he asked, though his words lacked their usual bite.

You chuckled, spinning just in time to trip him with a precise kick. He tumbled to the ground, groaning as you crouched beside him. “Oh, Wally,” you murmured, your voice low and warm. “If I stopped, you’d miss me too much.”

He didn’t respond, his face red as he scrambled to his feet, but the way his gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat too long said enough.

“Enough!” Aqualad’s voice rang out, his water-bearers crackling with energy. He stepped forward, the anchor of their team, his every movement deliberate. “This ends now.”

You tilted your head, your smirk softening into something almost wistful. “You always think you’re in control, don’t you, Kaldur?” you said, your voice quieter now, almost tender. “But tell me—what do you do when the tides turn against you?”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond, his silence betraying the weight of your words.

The battle raged on, but it was clear you weren’t just fighting them—you were unmaking them. Every word, every taunt, was a thread pulled loose from the fabric of their unity.

“You’re all so predictable,” you said as you danced through their attacks, your movements like liquid poetry. “So desperate to catch me. But tell me—” you paused, your gaze sweeping over them, a glint of mischief in your eyes—“do you want justice? Or do you just want me?”

The silence that followed was deafening, your words cutting deeper than any blade.

Robin stepped forward, his shoulders tense, his voice low and dangerous. “We’re going to stop you,” he said, though his words sounded more like a promise to himself than to you.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, your voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him. “Oh, little bird,” you murmured, your smirk curling into something sharper. “You’ve already lost. The moment you let me in, you lost.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you blurring into nothingness. Then, with a final glance at the team, you stepped back into the shadows, your voice carrying through the stillness like a haunting melody.

“Until next time, my darlings. Don’t miss me too much.”

And just like that, you were gone.

The team stood in the aftermath, battered and breathless, their thoughts filled not with the fight but with you. You were their nemesis, their obsession, the fault line that fractured them.

And in the silence that followed, they all thought the same thing:

They hated you.

They wanted you.

And they would destroy anyone who tried to take you from them.

(A/n: hey send request 😿)

[ssentimentals]

okay ik i said it would be the last in my last request but i have two more in my mind so bare with me.... prompt 21 and 17 from the soft prompts with Charles Leclerc!! it just struck to me yk him making his own ice cream brand and all i feel like this will be superb

no pls i love your requests :(( and this is one is so thoughtful!! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'you can call me whever you want, even if you don't have a reason to.' 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite.'

you knew that charles was on a shooting for his LEC ice cream, you knew. and it's an important thing, something he always wanted and you knew better than to distract him from the work... but. but you two haven't seen each other in almost two weeks and you just missed your boyfriend too much: clothes he left don't smell like him anymore, his text messages are not enough and you miss him, his presence, his voice, everything. there surely must be some breaks during the shooting, right? what if you get lucky and call right in the middle of one? biting your lower lip, you spend few minutes thinking this over until you finally give in, pressing call and holding your breath till a very familiar voice doesn't answer with: 'yes, my love?'

'charles,' you breathe out and it comes out whiny without you meaning it to.

'what's wrong?' charles immediately asks, urgency clear in his voice. he can't see your face and this whine did not sound like your usual cute-and-bratty whine. this one sounded more like i-am-sad whine and it gets him worried: 'are you okay, amour?'

you shake your head before remembering that he can't see you; with a sigh, you quickly respond to soothe his nerves: 'nothing-nothing. i'm sorry for calling!'

something rustles in the background and then there's a sound of door opening and closing. this time when charles speaks to you, he sounds much closer and louder: 'why are you sorry? you can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to. but everything is okay, yes?'

'yes, it is. sorry, babe, i just missed you and wanted to call,' you confess, pouting even if he can't see. 'i thought i'd get lucky and catch you during the break.'

'you are lucky, cause it's exactly break time,' charles says, smiling. it's a lie - you called right in the middle of the photoshoot and he asked everyone to wait but what you don't know can't hurt you.

'then just few minutes with me and you can go back to your favorite ice cream,' you decide, smiling. 'how is it going so far?'

charles smiles, leaning on the wall. your cuteness will one day be the death of him, but today is not that day. it warms his heart that you are this open about your feelings and can just call when you miss him - he should learn a thing or two from you in that regard. 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite,' he confesses to you secretly, smiling when he hears your laughter.

'sweet talker,' you accuse with fondness. 'you probably have to go, yeah? go, i don't want to keep everyone waiting. have fun, babe! i can't wait to see it all!'

'and here i thought you can't wait to see me,' charles teases. 'i'll be back home soon, okay? don't start dinner without me.'

'bring ice cream!' you shout and charles laughs, going back to the studio.

'only ice cream?'

'bring yourself too,' you mutter with a small smile. 'i love you.'

'i love you too, amour.' charles whispers back. 'see you soon.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about kid wade sick days.

Not for littles who don't like violence.

Wade has been curled up in the corner of their bed, sleeping on and off for hours, shaking, trying to stay silent as if he would get introuble if he made any noise. He had the comforter over top of him, holding pillows tightly as singular slow tears ran down his face. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to play. He didn't want to pet puppins. He didn't want to go to the park. He didn't even want Vanessa.

Once inawhile, Logan would hear a soft "....oow." Come from the room, but his voice was tight and high pitched. If it wasn't for their super hearing they wouldn't hear him at all.

Al had suggested that they just leave him alone. That there was nothing they could do for him and bugging him was probably making it worse. "Logan.. Just let him cry himself to sleep.. its the only thing he can do right now."

"I can't just let him cry himself to sleep. He hurts."

"Sugar, he's hurting 24/7. It's only showing today because he's little and doesn't understand. If there was something I could do, I would. But for now it just seems he wants to be alone."

It hurt Logans heart to hear this. No one should have to be alone and suffer except for him. Wade didn't deserve all this pain. He especially didn't deserve it now.

".. He only wants to be alone right now because no one ever took care of him. He was left alone his entire life... you get used to it.. well too fucking bad." He mutters, deciding to bring him some orange juice in his cup.

"Wade?" He had asked. But he didn't awnser.

".. Kiddo?" Logan whispers, setting the cup down close to his head, rubbing his back softly.

"....ow" he whimpered

"I know.. can I come in?" He asks, sliding his hand under the blanket, wiggling his fingers slightly.

"Ow.." he says again, not budging.

"No? Okay... well... I'm going to stay here.. okay?" He says, laying back, letting his weight sink Wade close to him, hoping he would cuddle up to him instead of feeling so alone.

The small slide that he did was silent, the "bmph" being the blankets and pillows protesting but not Wade.

".. ok"

So Logan laid with him, humming and rubbing his back until he moved on his own to curl into his side. "Hey.." he whispers to him, only getting another "..ow.." in return.

"I know... i know." Logan would shush him, keeping him warm and, at one point, let Wade hold his entire arm under the duvet. It was a bit too warm for him. The feverish skin, his fluffy pants, the thick blanket, the pillows. It made him so warm. It was an uncomfortable type, but he enderred it anyway, letting Wade cling to him like it was the cure to cancer itself.

It eventually turned into Wade putting his head and arm on his chest, bringing more of him into his cocoon to the point it looked like over time the blanket was eating Logan until Wade was fully curled up on top of him, no longer shaking.

He let Kitty hold him, rubbing his back and whispering sweet nothings to him. It was so warm under here that you could probably remove the blanket, and the amount of heat Logan has conducted would have probably been enough to still keep him warm.

"Alright.. come on." He says, feeling a bit too much on fire, imagining how terrible and delusional he must be with this.

"Ow.."

"I know, but you're too hot Wade."

There was a little giggle under the blanket as Logan scoffed. "Not like that and you know it. I-i mean. You are but.. not now- t-The temputure kind!" He explained, kind of hating that he understood some flirt terms.

"Come on. Up."

"No... owie."

"Wade, you have to eat something. It's been 6 hours since you've drank anything."

"b-But my tummy hurts.." he whimpers, not wanting to move. He felt like if he did, he would vomit instantly and collapse from the stabbing and twisting pain in his gut.

Sighing, he pulls him close, his hand starting to rub his stomach in hopes the heat from his hand would help.. if not... he had other ideas.

"Here?" He asks, massaging his belly more.

"Mhm... ouch." Shifting himself, he put a hand on logans, keeping his hot hand against his stomach, letting him rub where he pleased, but the tears started back up. It hurt more to be touched, and the fact that he hasn't eaten either made it worse.

"Shh... it's okay... Kitty's here." He whispers, slowly pulling his arm around his neck, pretending just to be cuddling with him in that playful style they did often. Kissing his tears away, Logan mentally had to prepare himself for the worst. Though at least he was conscious enough to understand he was helping. If not, he would have told him to stop touching his tummy by now. "Better?"

Wade shook his head, trying to press Logan's hand harder onto his gut, squeezing his eyes tight. The preasure felt good, and with how desperately he was clawing at him to keep him close, Logan had a feeling that subconsciously, Wade knew what he wanted.

Scratch that. He knew what he needed.

"Here?" He asked, to be sure.

Wade nodded.

"Deep breaths.. It's okay.. Kitty will fix it. I love you, Wade." Logan whispers, cletching his fist as he forced the metal through his stoamch, skewering him.

Wade had gasped, freezing for a moment as the blood came piling up through his throat. He had tried to scream, but it was quickly filled with a choking gurgle as Logan put his head to the side, letting him drain out onto his chest.

"Shhh.. it's alright. Kitty fixed it.." he mutters, an instant wave washing over him as he held the claws deep for a few seconds, pulling them away, begining to kiss his thick tears away and placed his nose to his head.

"It was for your own good... promise."

For a second, he's quiet. Just that. A quick second before he coughed up the rest of the blood and began crying, not out of pain, rather emotionally wounded, his physical one perfectly healed.

"Hey, shhh I know, I know Im sorry, you didn't do anything bad. Im bad. I know- Shhh" He mutters to him, holding him close and kissing his forehead, letting him metaphorically and physically come back to life in his arms. "Shhh hey, did you see that pretty lady again? Hm? Its okay. Was she nice to you? Hm? Hey, shhh, no need to cry. Just a nightmare." He lies, needing Wade to catch his breath, sometimes forgetting to breathe when sobbing like this.

He nods, face still soaked with snot and tears as he nods softly, both confused and panicked.

"Oh yeah? Did she give you a hug and say nice things?" He wasn't actually sure, but the way big Wade described it, this is kind of what happened each time he died for even a moments notice. He wondered if she was aware of him in this state. She had to be right? With how many times he's had to give him to her before...

He blinks, as if finally realizing where he was and what had happened, becoming grounded. Slowly, and confused, he nods. ".. yeah.."

"Yeah? That's good. Does your tummy still hurt?"

He thinks for a second before shaking his head. "..no"

"Good. Are you hungry?"

He nods.

"Come on. Let's go get you some nuggets and cookies. Kitty's gotta do laundry now." He muttered. "...again."

Coming out of the room, Wade was much more chipper, holding his Fluffy Wovie and skipping to the kitchen with his cup, getting into the cookie container.

Al tilted her head, wondering why the apartment suddenly smelled like rusty copper.

"What did you do to him?" She asked.

Logan, who now came out with a the bloody blanket, and blood caked onto his clothes, sighed.

"You don't wanna know..." unaware of how weird this sounded.

"Kihhy 'ixed me!!" Wade shouts from the kitchen, several cookies shoved into his mouth, puppins next to him, struggling to chew on one too.

"Uh... huh.... rrriigghhtt.."

"Like I said.. don't ask... now, where's the peroxide?"

[dalliesque]

I'm On My Knees . . ! ! >//<

random things that make riize weak on their knees.

꒰ png ot7!riize x fem!reader , fluff , sillies , headcanons , established relationship , lower case intended . cw kisses, pet names . wc — (not proofread) ꒱

yu notes: MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT HC AAAA, NOT GONNA LET OT6 RUIN MY DAY 🫵

shotaro — your gaze

• it doesn't matter how long you have been dating him.

• your gaze would always melt him away, never failing to make him weak on his knees

• the way you stare at him loving, so warm, so comforting.

• he swears he'll always get hypnotised by it

• and at the end of it either staring back with a pair of lovesick eyes,

• or suddenly blurting out his dramatic plans of marrying you.

• well it could be both

"what do you want for dinner? it'll be my treat" a giddy giggle escape your lips, looking up from your phone to catch him staring. your gaze soften as you call for him in a small voice, "taro?" you tilt your head slightly. not receiving any reply back, you ask once again. "taro"—"let's get married."

sungchan — your voice + petnames

• there's just something so alluring about your voice

• it doesn't matter if your voice is sometimes soft, sometimes deep, raspy,

• even when you're not talking at all and just simply breathing

• it will always be a sweet treat to his ear.

• especially if you add in some sweet new names for him in your sentences

• he'll be kicking his feet like a highschool girl

• he's so obsessed with it, he will refuse to start a day without calling you or atleast receiving a voicemail from you.

• and obviously sleep calls when he's away are a must !!

"hello?" you utter sleepy, yawning and laying back down to your bed. you can hear shuffles through the call, confusion arising when he's not replying to your words. "pretty boy?" the call goes in one long silence as you can't hear him shuffling around on the other side anymore. "sungc"—"did you just call me a pretty boy??!!! KAKSJDJWISJSJSN WAIT I NEED A MINUTE"

eunseok — your caring nature

• idiot grin on his face

• like his smile is huge everytime your personality traits starts to show up

• the way he observes your attentiveness, your caring and kind nature

• his eyes will legit turns to hearts !!

• loves to watch as your caring mode turns on everytime you see animals, people or simply seeing,, him.

you drop down to a squat gently pushing the can of tuna towards a cute little kitten. "look at you.." you coo, offering your hand cautiously watching the way the kitten reacts before gently stroking it. eunseok smiles warmly, staring down at you and the way your expression soften whilst gently carresing the poor animal. "eunseok" you call softly breaking his trance. "yes baby?" eunseok's smile widens crouching next to you, you giggle gently reach out to fix the stray hair on his face. "can we adopt her?" eunseok swears he's fallen in love twice.

wonbin — your warmth

• wonbin lovesloooooves hugging you

• or cuddling you on top of a comfy mattress

• whether it's him spooning you or the other way around it doesn't really matter for him.

• what matters the most is your body pressed close against him at all times!

• he won't be able to function without the warmth your body provides, even if it's in the middle of summer 😵‍💫

you struggle in his embrace, trying to let go as the heat of summer slowly seeps through the window. feeling you pry open his arms, wonbin let out a whine pulling you closer as he hides in the crook of your neck. "it's so hot wonbin" you pout still trying to breakfree from his embrace. "i know im hot" a groan leaves your lips hitting his back gently. "atleast let me grab the ac remote??" wonbin sigh letting go slightly, his hand still perfectly wrapped around your wrist "fine, so this is how it is huh? you don't love me anymore." "oh shut up." you roll your eyes while chuckling softly turning on the ac before spooning him back in your arms, sighing in content.

seunghan — your touch

• blushing mess everytime your hands touch

• people might assume it would be the other way around, the way he acts most of the time proves that he wouldn't be the one clinging right?

• oh how wrong that is

• he'll make sure to keep you close 24/7

• it seems everytime you touch send such an electric feeling in his body

• and he'll never get enough of it, he will alwaaays be so flustered by it

you lean in slightly, your thumb brushing over his lips. "you got chocolate on your lips" you clarify, leaning back to your seat. sipping on your hot chocolate. seunghan quickly reaches out for your hand, placing it back to his lips. "seunghan..?" "i like your touch."

sohee — your smile

• this boy have the sweetest most beautiful smile and guess what?

• his weakness is your smile.

• he's such a tease about it too :(

• would do anything to see you trying to hold in your smile, looking away while blush crept up your skin. all because of him

"so pretty." he whispers softly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. his eyes finding yours as you try your best to keep your composure, your eyes wandering everywhere but his pair. sohee holds back a giggle, seeing your flustered state. he gently touch your chin, forcing you to look his way. "baby.. pretty.. look at me."

anton — your kisses

• your kisses are his BIGGEST and i mean BIGGEST weakness ever

• most especially a kiss on his cheeks.. oh and his lips aswell !

• he will literally drop everything he's holding and drop down to his knees

"antoooooniooooo" you call fhim in a singsong voice, running giddily towards him. anton gives you sweet smile, pulling you in for a hug. "i missed you so much" you pout, soon pulling away. "i missed you too baby"— chuu! you lean in and gives him a big kiss on his cheek and another one on his lips as soon as he finished talking. your lipgloss staining his face. anton gasps, touching the places where you leave those kisses. feeling his knees weakening. "oh my—" "anton!!" you laugh keeping his knees from hitting the ground.

2024 ©️ dalliesque

@ :: @intakstars @taroddori @reenfludfmarshmallow @enhacolor @sftsohee

[mangostarjam]

birthday boy — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established relationship aka they're happily married, smut mentioned but not described, reader is called "wife" and "darling" and "sweetheart", fluff, birthday fic, 1.7k words

"Quit smiling so much, bowl cut," Narumi Gen snaps. "You're giving me the creeps. Who called you out here, anyway? This is First Division territory!"

Hoshina Soshiro sheathes his blades as officers begin to scatter from the area. His smirk grows. "We're right on the border, so my wife called me."

And there it is — a telltale pink rising on the Captain's cheeks, hands spasming on his bayonet as he tries to come up with something that doesn't betray his jealousy. Not that Soshiro cares — not today, anyway, not when his wife woke him up with a soft, sweet kiss before making him cum so hard he went a little boneless.

Still, it never hurts to rub it in.

"She knows I'm the best at neutralizin' these small fry kaiju," Soshiro says lightly, "and y'know my wife — she deserves the best."

Gen's jaw ticks. "Oh yeah? Well, your wife still thinks I'm the best Numbers Weapons user!"

Both men subconsciously straighten when their earpieces click and you sigh loudly over comms. "Seriously?" you ask, but Soshiro can hear the smile in your voice. "Shouldn't you guys be working?"

"Aw, sweetheart, we're done here," Soshiro says, glancing around quickly. The scene is secure, the kaiju are all neutralized, and officers from the First Division are handling the rest. There's only one thing left.

Soshiro spots a drone hovering nearby and waves a hand at it. He can feel the camera focusing on him, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Gen watching with a frown. He shoots the camera a cheeky grin. "I think it's time I get back to my wife. See ya, Captain."

You groan loudly over comms and Soshiro laughs, shoulders shaking as he waves goodbye to the First Division and heads back to his car. Gen scoffs just as loudly and begins barking out orders, because he is a good captain underneath it all, and Soshiro should really get out of their territory before he ends up with more paperwork on his desk.

You're waiting for him in his office, perched on the edge of his chair with a familiar jacket covering your body. "The troublemaker returns," you announce, sweeping your arms out as if the office contains an audience and not just the two of you.

Soshiro laughs and steps into your embrace, squeezing you to him as you giggle. You're warm — and soft — and you smell like laundry detergent and sunshine and the faintest whiff of freshly brewed coffee. "Didja borrow my shampoo again, my dear?"

"It was my shampoo first," you scrunch your nose at him playfully. He snorts. Resists the urge to kiss your cheek — and then gives in a moment later, lips brushing soft along your skin. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. "Need help with your combat suit?"

Soshiro's fond smile goes a little sharp. "Are ya offerin'?"

"Yes, you menace," you stretch a little to give him a kiss. Soshiro's heart thunks painfully in his ribcage as the warm metal of your ring sweeps across his cheek. "Here, let me."

Soshiro stands still as you begin unzipping his combat suit. He keeps his gloved hands on your hips, muscles relaxing out of the subtle, constant strain of the suit as it releases his body little by little. You're taking your time — fingers dancing along his shoulders and pecs, palms smoothing down his biceps and nails catching just barely along the edge of his compression shirt.

He always keeps a spare set of uniforms in his office, so he's not the least bit surprised when you drag the zipper further down, your touch featherlight along the tense muscles of his abdomen. You suck in a breath and it's gratifying, always, to catch your gaze and the heat in your blown pupils.

You keep your eyes on his and nearly go cross eyed when he tips forward, purple strands tangling with your hair. Your thumbs trace idly along his hip bones. "Who's the menace now?"

"Still you."

Soshiro laughs quietly, nerves thrumming in his fingertips as his heart threatens to overflow. "I think you're a pretty good contender."

"Hmm, I dunno," you mutter, tugging the zipper a little further. Soshiro's briefs waistband is in view now, but you just lick your lips. "You're the one who insisted on returning the favor this morning, even though it's your birthday."

"Can't help it," he sneaks a kiss to your jaw, presses his lips against your fluttering pulse. "That was a great birthday gift — my pretty lil' wife, cumming all over my cock 'cause she knows it belongs to her."

Your face warms and Soshiro grins. Kisses your cheek. Catches your hand in his and rubs his thumb along your matching ring. "Alright, Vice Captain, you should really get changed," you say, and immediately Soshiro's expression falls. "Wh-what?"

"That's illegal," Soshiro says. He can feel himself pouting, but it's fine. Nobody's around to see except you. "I'm your husband!"

"Oops," you say. Your eyebrow raises and you tug the zipper the rest of the way down. Soshiro sucks in a breath. "Want me to make it up to you, birthday boy?"

He's achingly hard, nerves shivering with the release of the suit and anticipation, but you've gotten in trouble before for shenanigans on duty and he knows better. He does.

Really.

You smile into the kiss, lips moving comfortably against his own. Soshiro sighs into your pretty little gasp, teeth nipping at your lip before he pulls back completely. "Soshiro…?"

That's really not fair. "The captain'll understand, won't she?" Soshiro mutters. You giggle and he can't help it — he kisses you again.

You tug at his gloves wordlessly, too caught up in kissing him back for any finesse. With the removal of his gloves, the sleeves of his combat suit slide off, and the rest of it follows until it pools on the floor. You slip your fingers under the edge of his briefs as he tugs you close, his own hands now free to roam appreciatively over your body beneath your borrowed jacket.

"Does my husband have plans to take his boots off?" you ask teasingly, tilting your head as he sucks another mark into the soft skin of your neck. "We don't have much time before your next meeting."

Soshiro groans into your shoulder when you touch him, eyes flashing hot as your lips part in silent awe. "Are ya still stretched out from this mornin'?"

"I might've been — ah, touching myself, just a little bit, while I was waiting for you to get — Soshiro!"

Your laughter fills the air and Soshiro engraves it into his memory, takes every gasp and moan and the wet, warm heat of you and etches it into his bones. It never gets old — just better, with age and familiarity and the silly inside jokes layered upon your shared history. With the boundless love echoing through both of you, the promises and the choice to keep choosing each other through it all.

Soshiro chokes on a surprised laugh when you mumble something about how your tits must look like mont blanc desserts from how much attention he paid them. "Aw, darlin', are ya jealous? I swear I love ya more."

You lift a shaky hand from your face and manage to shoot him a look. "You're not denying it."

He kisses you, but you're both smiling too much, so he pulls back slightly to brush your noses together. "Didn't ya say somethin' about bein' late?"

"We won't be late," you say. Soshiro raises an eyebrow and you shrug demurely. "What can I say? I know my husband."

The loud bark of his laughter makes you grin, and he finally pulls out to get the two of you cleaned up and presentable. You had the foresight to stash a change of panties for yourself among his things, but he leaves his jacket on you, opting instead to wear your lab coat even though it strains over his shoulders.

"Sexy," you snort, tugging him closer by his belt loops. He steps into the space between your legs and hums as you reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "You look like you ran a marathon."

"Someone was a lil too distracted to care about my poor hair," Soshiro says lightly. You roll your eyes fondly. "But it's alright," he sighs, "at least I match my wife."

"Not quite yet," you mutter, gaze flicking to the mark you had managed to leave on his skin, sitting just beneath the edge of his turtleneck. "But it's fine," you smile sweetly, "I've got time."

"Is that a promise, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you slide your arms around his waist and he steps obligingly closer, letting you press your ear to his chest. The sigh you release makes his lips twitch with a pleased, fond smile. "The captain granted us the day off tomorrow, since you had to go help the First Division today. So you can party as long as you want tonight, and we'll still have all day tomorrow for me to make sure we match."

"Party?"

"Don't play dumb, Soshiro," you say. "You know I wouldn't have let you mark me up so visibly if we were going to a real meeting."

"I dunno," Soshiro hums, hugging you a little tighter. "I thought it was just my birthday present."

You lean back slightly to look at him. Sitting on his desk puts you at a bit of a disadvantage, but he thinks you look cute like this, with your soft gaze and the pretty tilt of your lips.

And to think — he'll have more of this. Years and years together, getting to see you smile and hearing the bright sound of your laugh. All the time he spends with you more than makes up for the reality and danger of your jobs, but it also means he cherishes each second with you in a way that he never takes for granted.

"What is it?" you ask. Soshiro's grip tightens slightly. Your confusion melts into understanding and you reach up to cup his face in your hands. "We're right here, Soshiro."

"I know." He kisses you softly. You sweep your thumbs along his cheekbones, so tenderly his heart aches.

"Happy birthday, my love."

[moonselune]

Headcanon about what a lazy morning looks like with each of the female companions? In camp or post Elder Brain doesn't matter.

I did it as little snippets because I simply could not contain myself

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The first rays of dawn filtered into your shared tent, casting a soft glow on the canvas walls. The air was still cool, but the warmth radiating from Karlach more than made up for it. She lay sprawled on her side, her fiery hair fanned out on the pillow, her breathing steady and even. The sight of her like this—completely at ease—was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

But peace was fleeting when it came to Karlach’s mornings. As her eyes fluttered open, she stretched her arms high above her head, her muscles shifting with the motion, and let out a groggy yet determined groan.

“Alright, babe, time to get moving,” she mumbled, already swinging her legs over the edge of the bedroll.

Oh no, you weren’t having that. Not today.

Before she could rise, you flung your arms around her middle, pulling her back down with a playful grunt.

“Absolutely not,” you murmured, burying your face in the curve of her neck. “Stay. It’s too early, and you’re too comfortable to go anywhere.”

Karlach laughed, her voice husky and warm. “C’mon, sunshine, just a quick run to shake the cobwebs loose. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You tightened your hold, resting your chin on her shoulder. “Nope. You’re officially trapped. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

She turned her head, smirking as her sharp teeth glinted in the morning light. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do to stop me, huh?”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “I’ll bribe you with all my love and maybe a few promises here and there. How’s that?”

Her laughter filled the tent as she relented, settling back down into your embrace. “Alright, you’ve got my attention. What kind of promises are we talking about here?”

“Anything you want,” you replied, tracing small circles on her arm. “I’ll make you breakfast for the rest of this week, rub your shoulders, maybe even kiss every bit of your face.”

Karlach turned fully to face you now, her grin softening into something tender. “Babe, you’re making it really hard to resist you right now.”

“That’s the plan,” you said, matching her smile.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, murmuring sleepy words back and forth, trading kisses that ranged from playful pecks to lingering brushes of lips. Karlach would occasionally make a half-hearted attempt to get up, but each time, you pulled her back down, giggling as she surrendered with exaggerated defeat.

Eventually, though, her stomach growled loudly enough to interrupt the peace, and she laughed. “Okay, okay, you win. I’ll stay lazy—but only if I get breakfast.”

“Deal,” you agreed, releasing her with an exaggerated sigh of loss. “But you’re fetching it. I’m too busy being cozy to move.”

“Oh, so I’m a servant now? So much for those sweet promises” she teased, pulling on a loose tunic and giving you a playful glare. “Fine. You just sit there looking cute. I’ll be back.”

She leaned down to kiss your forehead before ducking out of the tent. You lay back, basking in the warmth she’d left behind and listening to the distant sounds of camp stirring awake. When Karlach returned, she was balancing two plates loaded with breakfast—a chaotic mix of bread, cheese, and fruits.

“Feast time!” she announced, plopping down beside you on the bedroll.

The two of you dug in, making a complete mess of the blankets as crumbs scattered and sticky fruit juices dripped onto the fabric.

“Alright, who’s the slob now?” you teased, pointing at the crumbs collecting on her lap.

“Oh, please,” she shot back, her mouth half-full. “You’re the one with jam on your chin!”

You reached up to wipe it off, but Karlach leaned in, licking the spot clean with a quick swipe of her tongue.

“Hey!” you laughed, swatting at her.

“Can’t let good food go to waste,” she replied, grinning as she kissed you again, tasting of sweet fruit and warmth.

By the time you’d finished eating, both of you were laughing so hard your sides hurt, teasing each other about who had made the biggest mess. Crumbs covered the blankets, and there was a suspicious smudge of butter on Karlach’s cheek, which she refused to admit was her doing.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back with a contented sigh. “This is the life. Lazy mornings, breakfast in bed, and you. What more could I need?”

You smiled, reaching out to tangle your fingers with hers. “I could ask the same thing.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while longer, sharing quiet moments of laughter and warmth, before finally deciding to face the day. But in your heart, you knew these mornings with Karlach were what you’d treasure most.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

Lazy mornings with Minthara were never truly lazy, not at first. She was a woman of discipline, a warrior who thrived on structure, and mornings, in her mind, were for action, not indulgence. You had long since learned that the battle to keep her in bed was one that required cunning, strategy—and occasionally, shameless dramatics.

This morning was no different. Minthara had already stirred, her sharp gaze fixed on the faint light spilling into the room, her body tense as though preparing for an unseen battle.

“I have things to attend to,” she said firmly, her voice a silken blade. She was already reaching for her armor, her movements precise, deliberate.

You, however, were ready for this. Sliding closer to her, you tangled your legs with hers and let out the most exaggerated sigh you could muster. “Oh, but who will keep me company in this cold, lonely bed? The pillows can only do so much, and the silk sheets—soft as they are—lack the warmth of a lover’s embrace.”

Minthara paused, her silver-white hair falling into her face as she turned to glare at you, though there was no true malice in her eyes—just the faintest flicker of amusement.

You pressed on, emboldened. “Perhaps I’ll dream of someone to hold me. Someone strong, someone fierce, someone who could rule both the bed and the world…”

Her hand darted out, grabbing your chin and tilting your face to hers.

“Enough,” she hissed, her crimson eyes narrowing. Then, before you could respond, her lips were on yours, silencing your teasing with a kiss that was both possessive and electrifying. When she pulled back, her voice was low and dangerous, though the smirk playing on her lips betrayed her. “If you dare dream of another, I’ll ensure you never wake again.”

“Veiled threats already?” you teased, leaning into her touch. “And here I thought we were just starting the day.”

Her laugh was soft and dark as she finally relented, sinking back into the bed and pulling you close. Her arms wrapped around you, and one hand found its way to your hair, her fingers idly combing through it.

“You are insufferable,” she murmured, though her tone held no real bite. “But it seems I’ve been bested—for now.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

The two of you lay there for a time, her body a warm, reassuring presence against yours. Minthara rarely allowed herself these moments of vulnerability, but when she did, they were all the more precious.

“What shall we do with our day, then?” she asked, her voice softer now, contemplative.

“Conquer the world, perhaps?” you replied, tracing idle patterns on her arm. Her lips quirked up in a rare smile.

“Ambitious. But tell me, where shall we start? The surface? The Underdark? Or perhaps,” she added, her tone teasing, “we’ll begin with breakfast.”

You chuckled. “We’ll start wherever you want. Though ruling the Underdark together does have a nice ring to it.”

Her eyes softened as she considered the thought. “You truly wish to remain by my side, even there? In the dark, where few can thrive?”

“Wherever you go, Minthara, I’ll follow,” you said earnestly.

She regarded you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Then we shall carve our future together, one conquest at a time.”

The morning passed in quiet conversation, your shared ambitions weaving a tapestry of possibility. For once, Minthara allowed herself to stay, her fingers brushing through your hair as she spoke of her dreams for the Underdark and the life you would share there.

As the light grew stronger, you knew she would soon insist on rising, but for now, you had her. You had this. And that was more than enough.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lazy mornings with Lae'zel were always a battle of wills. She was a Githyanki warrior through and through, her mind and body conditioned for discipline, combat, and constant motion. Staying in bed was, to her, a waste of precious time. But you had your methods—methods that she begrudgingly admitted she was impressed by, even if she would never say it aloud.

It always began the same way. The first rays of sunlight would filter into the tent, and Lae'zel, ever vigilant, would stir. Her muscles would tense as if prepared for a fight, and she would begin to shift beneath the blankets.

“I must rise,” she would say, her voice sharp but still laced with the drowsiness of sleep.

“Oh no, you don’t,” you murmured, already moving. You wrapped your arms around her waist and legs, entwining your body with hers like a constricting boa. She tensed beneath your hold, her golden eyes narrowing as she tried to pull free—but you were relentless.

“Release me,” she demanded, though her tone lacked the bite it usually carried in battle.

“Not until you promise to stay,” you countered, your grip tightening just enough to keep her in place.

Her muscles flexed, and you could feel her testing your hold. But then, to your surprise, she stilled, her gaze scrutinizing you.

“You are tenacious,” she remarked, a note of approval in her voice. “Very well. I will humor you… this once.”

Satisfied, you rewarded her compliance with a flurry of kisses on her face, starting with her forehead and moving down to her cheeks.

“Good choice, Lae'zel,” you teased, planting a final kiss on the corner of her mouth. She scoffed, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

“Do not mistake this for weakness,” she warned, though she made no effort to pull away.

You grinned, settling beside her with your head resting on her shoulder. “Never. But now that you’re here, you owe me a story.”

“A story?” she echoed, raising a sharp brow.

“Yes. Tell me about the Astral Plane,” you said, your fingers tracing idle patterns on her arm. “I want to know what it was like. All of it.”

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze growing distant as she considered your request. Then, she began to speak, her voice steady and commanding, as if recounting a battle strategy. “The Astral Plane is unlike anything you could imagine. It is a void, vast and infinite, where time holds no dominion. The stars are not stars as you know them, but luminous beacons of psionic energy, guiding us to our conquest. The Githyanki thrive there, unbound by the laws of your world.”

You listened intently, hanging on her every word. The way she spoke of the Astral Plane, with both reverence and pride, painted vivid images in your mind.

“Did you ever look out into the void and just… wonder?” you asked softly.

She turned her head to look at you, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. “Wonder about what?”

“About what else might be out there,” you said. “Beyond the conquest. Beyond the battles. Just… what it would be like to live there, peacefully.”

She was silent for a moment, as if the question had caught her off guard. Then, she spoke, her tone quieter than before. “Peace is not a concept that the Githyanki are taught to value. But… perhaps I have wondered.”

Your heart swelled at her honesty, and you pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“Thank you for telling me,” you murmured.

She huffed, though her expression softened. “You are insufferable. But I find your curiosity… tolerable.”

You laughed, knowing that was the closest you’d get to a compliment. The two of you lay there for a while longer, Lae'zel continuing to share her stories of the Astral Plane while you listened with rapt attention.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Slow mornings with Shadowheart were a cherished slice of heaven to you, a rarity in your chaotic lives that you clung to. The two of you often found yourselves tangled in each other’s arms, her head resting on your chest, your fingers lazily combing through her soft, raven hair. She was slow to wake, a luxury she rarely afforded herself, but in your arms, she allowed her guard to fall.

The first hint of the morning came with the sound of Scratch’s claws clicking against the wooden floor outside the bedroom. You groaned softly, already knowing what was coming, but Shadowheart barely stirred, her breath warm against your collarbone as she shifted slightly closer to you.

Just as you expected, Scratch’s wet nose nudged at the door, and a moment later, it swung open. The loyal dog padded over, tail wagging enthusiastically. He jumped up on the bed with a happy woof, which earned a sleepy groan from Shadowheart as she stirred.

“You’re far too energetic for this hour,” you mumbled to Scratch, scratching behind his ears as he let out an eager bark.

Before you could do anything, Scratch took it upon himself to deliver his morning greeting to Shadowheart—by licking her face. Shadowheart let out a soft, sleepy hum, still half-asleep and mistaking the sensation for something else.

“Good morning to you, too, my love.” she murmured groggily, her lips quirking into a small, contented smile.

That was it. You couldn’t hold it in. Your chest shook with barely contained laughter, and when Shadowheart finally opened her eyes, she was greeted by Scratch’s happy, drooling face.

Her expression shifted from affection to realization, then to horror.

“Wait—Scratch?” she exclaimed, sitting up abruptly and wiping at her face. “I thought—! You—!”

You were absolutely losing it, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as you clutched your sides.

“Oh gods,” you gasped, tears forming in your eyes. “That was—oh, that was perfect!”

Shadowheart glared at you, her lips twitching in a suppressed smile despite her best efforts. “You think that’s funny?”

“Absolutely!” you managed to get out between peals of laughter.

“Fine,” she said, her voice laced with mock seriousness. Before you could react, she grabbed your shoulders, leaned in, and ran her tongue up the side of your face in one swift, deliberate motion.

You froze for a second, utterly stunned, before letting out an exaggerated sound of protest. “Shadowheart!”

“That’s what you get,” she said smugly, settling back down into the bed and pulling the blanket over herself as if nothing had happened.

Scratch, apparently pleased with himself for causing such chaos, flopped down at the foot of the bed, wagging his tail contentedly. You wiped at your face, still grinning, and turned to Shadowheart, who was now feigning sleep again.

“You’re impossible,” you said, pulling her back into your arms.

“And yet, here you are,” she murmured, her voice soft with affection as she nuzzled against you.

The rest of the morning passed in a warm haze of sleepy cuddles and light banter. Scratch eventually drifted off, his snoring filling the room, and you couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to Shadowheart’s temple.

“You know,” you whispered, “I think he likes you better than me.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Smart dog,” she replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh all over again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The morning light filtered through the tent’s flap, casting a soft glow over Jaheira’s features. She stirred before you, as usual, her discipline refusing to let her linger in bed for too long. Her hand reached for the edge of the blanket, intending to throw it off and rise to start her day.

You rolled over, catching her wrist gently, and looked at her with a sleepy smile. “Must you be so diligent, my love? You’re not a young sprout anymore. Surely, someone of your… seasoned years needs more rest.”

Her eyebrows lifted, her lips curving into an amused but challenging smirk. “Seasoned years, is it? Careful, or I’ll show you just how much strength comes with them.”

Feigning innocence, you stretched lazily and tucked your hands behind your head.

“Oh, I’m not worried. I just thought you might need a little extra time to… recharge.” You waggled your eyebrows teasingly.

Jaheira let out a low laugh, shaking her head as she leaned down over you. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? A little fox, nipping at my heels.”

Before you could reply, her lips found yours in a kiss that was both commanding and affectionate, silencing whatever retort you had prepared. Her hands brushed along your sides, firm but gentle, leaving you breathless as she pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I may be older than you, but don’t mistake that for weakness,” she murmured, her voice low and smooth.

You grinned, cheeks flushed, and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her back down onto the bed with a soft laugh. “You’ve proven your point, oh wise one. But I win this round, don’t I? You’re still here.”

Jaheira let out an exasperated sigh, though her eyes glinted with fondness. “You always get your way, don’t you?”

“I like to think of it as a gift,” you replied smugly, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

She chuckled, shaking her head again, but didn’t make any further attempt to rise. Instead, she allowed herself to relax into your embrace, her fingers absentmindedly stroking through your hair as the two of you basked in the warmth of the moment.

“I suppose one morning spent lazing about won’t hurt,” she said after a while, her tone softer now.

“Exactly,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone. “Besides, I’m selfish. I want all your mornings.”

Her hand paused in your hair, her gaze turning thoughtful as she looked down at you.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” she said, though her smile betrayed her affection.

“Your menace,” you corrected, grinning up at her.

With another indulgent sigh, Jaheira rested her head against yours, allowing herself to savor the stolen moment of peace. You both knew the world would demand your attention soon enough, but for now, you were content to remain entwined, sharing the kind of love that made all the teasing and trouble worthwhile.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so cute to write, I love little fluffy things like this and I hope you guys enjoyed it too! - Seluney xox

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[daisymbin]

Hi💕 can i get 22. "you were my first love—you still are." And 33. "can we start over?" With S.coups telling the reader (fem), with an indecisive ending…? Thanks

thank you for requesting!!!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

second chance prompt #22: "you were my first love—you still are." +

second chance prompt #33: "can we start over?"

the crackling of the campfire echoed through the air as you and seungcheol sat quietly on the sand, far enough from the group to be alone, yet still close enough to hear their laughter carried by the breeze. the firelight cast a warm glow on his face, and you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye.

you hadn’t meant to wander off like this, but somehow, the conversation between you two had drifted toward something more... nostalgic.

“remember when we used to come here, just the two of us?” seungcheol’s voice broke the silence, and you turned to see him staring at the horizon, his posture relaxed but his expression distant. “seems like it was just yesterday.”

you smiled softly. “yeah, i do. it feels like so much has changed since then.”

“yeah,” he said with a quiet laugh, “everything felt so different back then. simpler, maybe?”

“simpler,” you echoed, looking at the firelight in the distance. “and we were younger.”

“much younger,” seungcheol agreed, his tone almost wistful. “so, tell me,” he said suddenly, turning his head to look at you, his expression playful yet tinged with curiosity, “who was your first love?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “my first love?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “i was obsessed with knowing the answer back then that i asked you all the time but you never really told me. so who was your it, your first love?”

you laughed awkwardly, unsure of how to answer. your heart skipped a beat as the weight of the question settled on you. you could lie. you could say someone from high school, or maybe a celebrity crush? you just weren’t ready to admit it.

“uh… well, i guess it was… winnie the pooh,” you said with a shrug, trying to make it sound casual. “yeah, when i was little, i was obsessed with winnie the pooh. you know, with the whole honey obsession and all that.”

seungcheol blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “winnie the pooh? really?”

“yup,” you said, nodding and doing your best to act nonchalant, even though your heart was pounding in your chest. “he was sweet and loyal, and he had a bunch of good friends. i guess i had a thing for his, uh, personality.”

seungcheol stared at you for a moment, his lips twitching into a smile. “winnie the pooh, huh? well, that’s definitely... interesting.”

you shrugged again, chuckling nervously. “i was a weird kid.”

he leaned back on his hands, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

you let out a small sigh of relief seeing that he didnt push for more, but before you could settle into the moment, he looked at you with a glint in his eyes. “who was your first real love? i mean, after winnie the pooh.”

you shifted uncomfortably, still unsure of how to answer. but then, almost instinctively, you asked the same question back. “who was yours? you never told me either.”

seungcheol’s eyes softened, and he smiled faintly, a mix of nostalgia and something deeper in his gaze. “you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of years. “you were my first love—you still are.”

your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, all the noise of the campfire and the laughter from the group seemed to fade into the background. everything went still.

“what?” you whispered, barely able to process his words.

seungcheol looked at you, his expression serious, yet tender. “you were my first love. i’ve never told you that before, but you were the first person who made me feel like that—like love was more than just a word.”

it was like a punch to the gut, but a warm one. the realization hit you all at once—he felt it too.

“but—” you started, your voice shaky. “why didn’t you... why didn’t you tell me back then?”

“i don’t know,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the sand. “i guess i was scared. scared of losing you, scared of being vulnerable. so i kept it to myself, even though i shouldn’t have.”

“cheol…” you murmured, your voice breaking slightly. “i wish you had told me.”

“i know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “i wish i had too. well at least you know now. even though it's a little too late."

you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “i... i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly, reaching out to take your hand in his. “i just needed you to know. you were always my first love, and in some ways, i think you always will be.”

the warmth of his hand in yours made your heart ache. you could feel the sincerity in his words, the years of unspoken feelings that had built up between you. you both had changed, but some things—some feelings—remained the same.

you stayed there in silence for a while, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the quiet space between you two. the campfire crackled in the distance, but all you could focus on was the quiet intimacy of the moment.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “maybe it’s not too late.”

seungcheol turned to you, his expression uncertain but hopeful. a smile smile tugging at his lips, “yeah? you think so?”

you don't answer him, except to give a small squeeze with your hands. you both sat in silence again, the weight of his words hanging between you, unspoken but understood. the air around you felt charged, like the world was waiting for something to happen, but neither of you moved.

after a long moment, seungcheol shifted, turning fully to face you. “do you think,” he said softly, his voice steady but full of nervousness & vulnerability. “can we start over?”

you met his gaze, the flickering light of the fire casting shadows across his face. there was hope in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

could you start over? could you go back to something that was so simple before, and yet so complicated now? your heart ached, unsure of what to say. you hesitated, your mind racing. everything about this felt so right, yet so complicated. a second chance seemed like something worth considering, but was it really the right time? could you both just... fall back into the old rhythm, or would it be different this time?

you looked at him, unsure still, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “i don’t know,” you said softly, the indecision hanging in the air between you. “but maybe we can... figure it out?”

seungcheol’s eyes softened, a small, hopeful smile forming on his face. “maybe we can.”

and there, in the soft glow of the campfire and the crashing waves, the future was uncertain, but there was a warmth in the possibility. maybe this time, you can tell cheol that he's your first love too?

[syndrossi]

You brought up this AU idea from way back where Jon and Rhaegar were born earlier as Aemon and Jocelyn's sons, and thus Rhaenys' little brothers. How old would that put them compared to Daemon? Would he like having more cousins? For that matter, would Rhaenys like having little brothers? Would Aemon live in this AU, or would we get child!King Jon? (The sheer panic, lmao.) If so, would Viserys become his regent? I was just wondering about it and could not resist the curiosity. How do you think things would have changed in this sort of verse? 🤔

I sort of like the idea of them being right around Daemon's age, plus or minus a few years. I'm sure he would be thrilled about having cousins his age, too. Rhaenys is cool, but she's a girl and older. The age gap between her and Daemon is pretty significant in terms of being peers. Rhaenys meanwhile may find it a little disappointing at first. I expect she had dreams of her own that she might be queen someday after her father, long before she got her cold shot of reality at the Great Council. Twin brothers pushes her back behind both of them in the succession.

But Rhaenys is also a seven or eight-year-old, so it's not like politics and the succession are the primary things on her mind when the twins are born. Twins are fun, and the boys are cute/sweet, so I'm sure she warms up to them quickly and bossily assumes control over their education even though she's pretty much a child herself (Jocelyn, amused, lets her). She probably wishes at least one of them had been a girl, especially when she has to deal with the brat pack that is Viserys, Daemon, and the twins running around like hooligans at Dragonstone or the Giant's Toe.

If Aemon dies at his usual canon time and the twins are roughly Daemon's age, then Jon would be thirteenish, which isn't TERRIBLE. (The other alternative is the twins being born much later, aka when Rhaenys is married. Jocelyn gets pregnant, Aemon dies shortly after their birth, and chaos ensues. They'd be contemporaries of Rhaenyra in this case, and I expect Jaehaerys betroths Rhaenyra to Jon and plans for Baelon, and later Viserys, to be Jon's regent.)

Or my soft heart wins out and Aemon gets to live, who can say! That could be an interesting inversion--where Baelon dies, and it's Aemon who has to live on, only unlike Baelon, he has no enemy to strike down in vengeance, since it was sickness that took him. Viserys and Daemon both leaning on him in their grief, Daemon claiming Vhagar(???) instead.

It's hard to say what changes, exactly, without settling on some details! Is this a setting with or without warlocks (aka with or without messy Essos politics)? Does Aemon live or die? Are the twins contemporaries of Daemon or Rhaenyra?

I do think that Jaehaerys is faced with an interesting, difficult choice in the case of Aemon dies + the twins are babies. Because he has a grown son as a very valid alternative, even if standard male-preference primogeniture dictates that Jon and Rhaegar should be above Baelon in the succession. Then again, he did not immediately declare Viserys his next heir after Baelon's death, which shows he was open to Aemon's line stepping back into the position, even if the rest of the realm wasn't.

Things are much more stable if Aemon doesn't die (obviously) or if the twins are born earlier and Jon becomes a thirteen-year-old heir to the Iron Throne. Jaehaerys would have had enough time to get a sense of Jon's capability and know that he's an excellent option.

Otto's not sitting nearly as pretty as in canon (the daughter of a second son is no worthwhile match for the king's heir or his spare), so he may be driven to more desperate measures in his grasping for power.

(I'll bet the twins are Corlys's #1 fans. It is likely joked that no one was more excited when he wed Rhaenys, not even Rhaenys herself.)

[sweetpupii]

FLUFFY REQUESSSTTT caitlyn x reader who has a really bad nightmare :(( OR caitlyn x flower shop owner reader who is like the Sweetest person ever and has been giving flowers to the kiramman family for a while, and caitlyn has the biggest soft spot for her? Idk 😔

caitlyn x flower shop owner!reader is something I never thought about but you will be on my mind forever.

she hadn’t even reached the flower stand yet, but caitlyn could already feel her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, her heart skipping at the sight of you. the way you moved around the stand—focused and effortlessly beautiful—made her stomach twist in the best way. As she waked, she smoothed out the fabric of her uniform skirt and adjusted her enforcer’s helmet, determined to look professional.

( pls pls pls notice the dedication she has. )

“good morning,” the young enforcer said softly, clearing her throat to avoid startling you. blue eyes observing the vibrant flowers and the decorative plastic hummingbirds swaying in the breeze. everything in your stand was meticulous, full of care, and it only made you more captivating.

“oh morning, cait,” you greeted her with a warm smile and her stomach did fifteen consecutive backflips in five seconds. It was a simple gesture, but it hit her harder than it should have. breathe, girl. just breathe.

“working already?” you asked, casually adjusting a flowerpot.

“mhm,” she replied, her voice steady despite her nerves. “I see you’re also starting early. more demand than usual, I suppose?” she already knew the answer; every bloom here was burned into her memory from her countless visits to your shop.

“I like peonies,” caitlyn added, fingertips brushing the petals of one of them as if it was made of the most delicate glass trying to avoid damaging it. she couldn't bear the thought of the girl she was interested in ( loved is a strong word... but it fits. ) being mad.

“It’s their season,” the excitement in your tone doesn't go unnoticed, it makes caitlyn melt a little—the way you care so deeply about your job and the plants is just so sweet she feels something tugging at her heartstrings. she quickly mimicked your smile at the way you lifted one of the flowerpots motioning for her to smell, she couldn’t help but lean in, inhaling the soft, fresh scent.

“nice, isn’t it?”

she nodded, keeping her eyes closed for a second longer. eye contact with you felt almost too much, too intimate, and she didn’t trust herself. “could I buy one? I’ll come back after the ceremony to pick it up—they’d look lovely in my room.”

...buy?

you tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing slightly as if her words confused you. “you know you can just take one, right?”

her family had been using your flowers for events and just decorating for months now, why should she ask for permission?

“no no, please, let me pay,” she insisted quickly, shaking her head. she had more than enough to buy the entire stand if she wanted to so of course she would pay! don't be silly.

“It’s progress day and you’re you. consider it a gift.”

Her pulse quickened at the way you said "you’re you." —...did it mean she's as special to you as you are for her?—she wanted to grab that annoyingly gorgeous face of yours and kiss you breathless, but instead, she just laughed softly, shaking her head once more.

“you’re stubborn, you know that?” she teased, her voice warm and light.

“maybe,” you shot back playfully, “but if you insist on paying, I’ll be deeply offended, kiramman.”

caitlyn found herself grinning again, hopelessly smitten by those eyes that stared back at hers. god, she has to kiss you even if it's just once by the end of the day or she'll regret not making a move.