#[ thread: just grin and bear it a while ]

[differenteagletragedy]

Simon x SingleMomReader, Part Four! Thank you for reading and commenting and being so nice, I love it here <3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Weeks went by, and little by little, piece by piece, Simon begins learning you. Your last name, the one you share with Charlie and Emma, your birthday, your favorite food.

Bigger things, too -- how Charlie was a surprise in a not-so-great relationship with a man who'd left and come back, sworn up and down that he'd changed just long enough for another surprise to come in Emma, and who'd left again soon after.

He doesn't just hope for random run-ins with you at the park now, either. He has your number, and you have his. Sometimes you invite him over for dinner, sometimes Charlie grabs the phone and begs him to come play, but more and more, he's finding himself at your house.

One day, Simon talks to Charlie at the dinner table while you're giving the baby a bath, and the scene is so domestic it almost hurts, the way some bit of sweetness can cause a toothache if it hits just right. You and he haven't talked more about his feelings for you or whether you share them, but that's fine by him. You trust him now, enough to let him tend to your son or hold your daughter, and that means everything to him.

"You wanna hear a joke?" he asks Charlie, who nods, smiling and ready, so he says, "What do you call a teddy bear who's going bald?"

"I don't know, what?"

"Fred Bear."

Charlie looks at him blankly, big eyes confused. "The bear's name is Fred?"

"No, sounds like threadbare. Fred Bear, threadbare."

"... His name is Thread?"

Simon chuckles, but before he can say anything else, you come out from the hallway, holding baby Emma.

"Is Simon trying to tell more jokes?" you ask Charlie.

"Yeah, but it wasn't funny."

"Aww, they never are, are they, baby?"

You grin playfully at Simon, and even after all the hours he's spent with you and your family, it's like the first time all over again. Except better now -- it's better every time. Because now, he feels like he's actually earning your smiles. Almost like he's worth all the warmth and kindness you've shown him, just by letting him be with you like this.

Next is the bedtime routine, which he's familiar with at this point. Emma, who's been so close to sleeping through the night, you've told him, gets one more feeding and plenty of snuggles before getting placed in the bassinet by your bed, while Charlie gets an equal amount of snuggles, as long as he'll sit still for them, and a bedtime story after he's all tucked in.

Simon helps out where he can, or when he's confident enough in whatever placed he's carved out in your family to offer, but often he stays back, cleaning up after dinner or straightening up the living room.

He's in the kitchen now, working through the dishes, when you come in, kid-free and trusty baby monitor in your hand. By the look on your face, he knows what you're about to say, and he tries to nip it in the bud.

"Don't need the 'you don't have to do this' speech tonight, love, I've heard it enough I can recite it by heart now."

"But you don't," you tell him, leaning against the counter by the sink, close enough that he can feel your warmth when he puts a clean dish in the drainer. "You know you can just come and hang out, you don't have to do my cleaning for me."

He smiles, glancing up at you, and says, "You want to say my part now or should I?"

You roll your eyes, taking a soapy dish from him so you can rinse it yourself, and pitch your voice as low as it can go, mocking him as you say, "'Know I don't have to, I want to, I’m a very large, very tough man and a sink full of dirty dishes and a bin full of dirty nappies is no match for me.’”

"That's what I sound like, is it?"

You laugh, bumping his hip with yours, and continue with the silly voice.

"'My name is Simon, I tell awful jokes and am very mysterious, but if you need a nap and have a four-year-old who won't slow down for two seconds, I'm your guy.'"

It's all very silly, but very cute, and he can't keep the smile off his face. You keep opening up to him more and more, and every new thing he sees from you, even dumb little moments of levity like this, make him fall even harder. It's such a stark contrast to the woman he met that first day, the one who trusted him only because she had to and lied about having a husband so he might think twice about hurting her.

Even then, he would have died before hurting you, but now?

"I am, you know," he says quietly, handing you another dish.

"You are what?"

"Your guy."

To him, it's just a fact. Of course he's yours. But you look at him with widening eyes, not all that different than the look Charlie gives him when he fixes the persistently leaky faucet or carries all the groceries home so you can carry the baby and hold the boy's hand -- like he's doing something magical when he's just doing something that he knows should be done. It's too much, to be held in such high regard. To feel this important.

With careful hands, still warm and damp from the water from the sink, he grips your waist. When you don't push him away, he gently lifts you to sit on the counter in front of him, closer to eye level. And when, miraculously, you still seem good with what's happening, he leans in.

Simon wants to go fast, because he knows how much he needs this -- how much he needs you, just like this, sleepy after a full day and happy with a full life and right there in his arms -- but he doesn't. He moves in slowly, giving you ample time to stop him, but you don't. Instead, you lift your hands to his shoulders and pull him in to close the distance between you.

It's a soft kiss, but one full of the wanting he's been feeling for months now, and as you move your lips against his, he can feel a bit of your wanting too. It's enough to pull a low grunt from his throat, one that spills from his mouth and into yours as you part your lips to deepen the kiss.

He'd always known that if he ever got the chance to kiss you, it would be good -- he could never see a way that it wouldn't be. But actually doing it, tasting you in more than just his dreams, was so much more than he ever imagined. He loses himself in it, just a bit, his hands only just slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your smooth skin.

When he feels your fingers grasping at his shoulders, an adorable, almost anxious little attempt at pulling him closer, he scoots you to the edge of the counter so that his chest is flush against yours. The kiss turns hungrier, deeper.

Then the baby cries.

It's a sharp sound through the monitor paired with the muffled sound from the down the hall, and you pull away, breathless and flushed.

"Sorry," you say softly, giving his shoulders one more squeeze before hopping off the counter. "I, um ... just stay, ok? I'll be right back."

He lets out a breath as he watches you hurry down the hall to your bedroom where baby Emma is wailing, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Through the baby monitor, he hears you softly soothing your daughter. He can't make out every word, but the love and care in your tone is clear. He sees the goodness in you every time he's with you, a softness unlike anything he's never known, and it's intoxicating. It's dizzying, someone like you letting someone like him get so close. It makes him feel like he's falling and flying all at once, like he wants to claw at his own skin just to get his hands on the part of you that buzzes through him. It's too much to keep inside him, as big and broad as he is. Too much to bear, all this longing.

All this love.

Simon hears a lullaby through the baby monitor, and sharp cries that turn into little whines before things go silent. A moment later, he hears your feet padding softly down the hall, then there you are in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on your waist and a question in your eyes.

His answer, of course, is "yes." An unequivocal, unrelenting yes, to any question, to anything you want or will ever want from him.

PART FIVE - PART SIX - PART SEVEN - PART EIGHT - PART NINE

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Aventurine and Ratio with a very generous and doting partner who makes them an abundance of gifts?

New weapons, a couple plushies, and many more

Gifts of the Heart

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Gifts, Tender Moments, Soft Romance, Lighthearted, Emotional Vulnerability, Comfort, Slice of Life, Found Family.

A/N: why was I listening to cure while writing this? 💀

Jing Yuan's office was a sanctuary of calm amidst the chaos of the Xianzhou Luofu. However, today it was anything but calm. Piled high on his usually immaculate desk were an assortment of meticulously crafted gifts: a new weapon stand made of polished silver, embroidered cushions for his chair, and a plush lion that looked suspiciously like Mimi.

You walked in with another package, your cheeks flushed with effort and excitement. "I thought you might like these," you said, setting down the final bundle—a lightweight, beautifully designed cape lined with reinforced threads, perfect for both combat and ceremony.

Jing Yuan leaned back in his chair, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Dozing General or not, I fear I might soon become the spoiled General if this continues.”

You smiled, brushing off his teasing. “It’s not spoiling if you deserve it.”

He reached for the plush lion and held it up, a rare chuckle escaping his lips. “Even Mimi has a twin now. Truly, you leave no detail overlooked.” His tone softened, and he leaned closer, his expression uncharacteristically tender. “You’ve made my world a much brighter place. Thank you, truly.”

Dan Heng was used to silence. It was his comfort zone, a shield against the chaos of the universe. But lately, the quiet in the archives had been punctuated by the rustling of gift-wrapped packages.

At first, he had been perplexed. Who needed a custom-crafted spear attachment inlaid with celestial patterns? Or a weighted blanket embroidered with stars and constellations that mirrored his room’s nightlight setting? And the plushies—one resembled Cloud-Piercer, another was an adorable caricature of his own stoic self.

You stood behind him, watching as he carefully examined a new spear stand. “Do you like it?” you asked hesitantly.

Dan Heng turned, his expression unreadable but his eyes softer than usual. “You don’t have to go to such lengths for me.”

“I want to,” you said simply. “You deserve to feel cared for.”

He hesitated, then reached for the plush Cloud-Piercer and placed it on his desk. “Thank you. I… appreciate everything.” His voice was quiet, but the sincerity in it spoke volumes. For the first time in a long while, Dan Heng felt that his solitude wasn’t a burden he had to bear alone.

Aventurine’s office was a chaotic display of opulence and extravagance, but now it had taken on a more personal touch. Golden dice-shaped ornaments dangled from the corners, a new set of playing cards lay on his desk, and a plush peacock sat proudly atop his chair.

“Another gift?” he asked, his signature smile playing on his lips as you entered with a set of intricately designed cufflinks shaped like roulette wheels.

“Only the best for you,” you replied, setting the box down. “I noticed your old ones were scratched.”

Aventurine picked up one of the cufflinks, holding it up to the light. “These are exquisite. You truly outdo yourself every time.”

You shrugged, grinning. “I just want to see you happy.”

His expression flickered, the mask slipping for a brief moment as he regarded you with something raw and unspoken. “You know, most people give me things expecting something in return. But you… you just give.”

“That’s because I care about you,” you said gently. “No strings attached.”

Aventurine chuckled, sliding the cufflinks into place. “You’re a dangerous one, you know that? Making me feel things I thought I’d buried long ago.”

Ratio’s lab was a temple of precision and order. Each piece of equipment had its place, every book meticulously cataloged. And yet, amidst the sterility of science, there was now a peculiar warmth: a plush owl perched on his desk, custom bookmarks tucked into his volumes, and a set of tools engraved with his initials.

“Another package?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you entered with a sleek case.

You opened it to reveal a new set of instruments, polished to perfection and designed with ergonomic grips. “I thought these might help with your work.”

He inspected them with a critical eye, his expression unreadable. Finally, he set them down and turned to you. “You have an uncanny ability to surprise me.”

“I just want to make your life a little easier,” you said, smiling. “You work so hard; you deserve it.”

Ratio’s gaze softened, the sharp edges of his intellect giving way to something more human. “It’s rare for someone to see beyond the intellect and treat me as a person. You’ve done more than that—you’ve made me feel valued in ways I didn’t think possible.”

He reached for the plush owl, holding it up as a small smile tugged at his lips. “Even this has its charm. Thank you, truly.”

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ DO YOU MIND? ❞

— minors dni, suguru x gn! reader (established rs), ft. satoru, voyeurism, oral [ m. receiving ], pining?, some stsg if you squint at the end :3, barely proofread 🫣

gojo tends to show up at the most inopportune moments.

…like now, when suguru is balls-deep in your mouth.

your boyfriend watches, utterly flabbergasted, as gojo settles into the other patio chair and then blinks at him with a casual, blue-eyed stare. it’s nonchalant, careless…as if this is all normal.

you begin to pull off of suguru’s length before he stops you with a steady hand on the crown of your head. your eyes widen, lashes fluttering for a quick second before a strange sense of normality washes over you, and your body relaxes. whatever gojo is up to, you’re confident suguru will handle him with ease, as per usual. after all, this wouldn’t be the first time his best friend has walked in on you two during activities like this, though he usually doesn’t take a seat with the apparent intent on staying throughout.

suguru takes a long, thoughtful drag of his cigarette, eyes narrowing. “…do you mind?”, he asks and quirks a brow.

gojo just smiles at him. “huh? oh, no, i don’t mind.”

a couple seconds pass and suguru has to wonder if he’s actually having this conversation. “are you actually insane—“

“god, what’s the big deal?” gojo groans, interrupting the once-hushed, midnight serenity in his typical, obtrusive fashion. shifts in his seat and suguru finally notices the bulge between his spread legs. his jaw just goes slack in utter disbelief.

suguru is not distracted for long. with a flick of your tongue, you bring forth a grunt from your boyfriend’s lips, back to bobbing along his length in a craving for his creamy release down your throat. suguru can’t and wouldn’t bring himself to stop you. the situation is far past strange but, if you’re determined to continue, and gojo being a fucking weirdo doesn’t bother you, then that’s fine by him.

he sighs. “whatever.”

not even a second passes before there’s a clink of metal, and suguru watches as gojo begins pulling his own cock from his pants.

“satoru, what in the f—“

“shhh.”, gojo hisses at him, and suguru raises two astonished brows. “i’m trying to enjoy the show.“

the dark-haired man is genuinely stunned into silence. it takes a moment before he catches his bearings, tossing gojo an unamused look and leaning back to rest in his own chair. “fine, whatever, just shut up while you do it.”

suguru rolls his eyes at gojo’s victorious grin, before pulling his dying cigarette back up to his lips and billowing out another cloud of smoke. whatever. with everything going on, it’s easy for him to block out any trace of gojo, anyway, and just focus on you.

a bold smell of tobacco wafts through the air, filling suguru’s nostrils as the nicotine finishes off any remnants of stress in his body. the sloppy, wet noises of spit and pre, of you eagerly sucking him down your throat. the curious feel of your hand massaging his balls while the other twists and jerks off whatever can’t fit in your mouth. yeah, it doesn’t take a single drop of effort for suguru to forget that his best friend is jerking off to the sight of you.

someone else is properly taking the time to admire every detail of the view before him. the moonlight rays gleaming off of you and his best friend, casting a gentle glow on the lewd scene. suguru’s head tossed back with locks of black framing his face, a red blush visible across his handsome features even with the limited lighting. and you, god, you. gojo eyes the hand on the back of your head, threading through your hair. suguru has a gentle grasp for the most part, sometimes shoving you down to his base, and gojo’s cock throbs longingly at the gags you let out before being released again. so cute, so pretty, doing your best to take his friend’s fat cock all the way in, only to come up a few inches short every time. it’s obviously a struggle, and yet you still try your best, so keen to swallow every inch. so eager to please.

globs of clear precum dribble out and over gojo’s tip, making for slippery strokes as he gives his bobbing cock a squeeze. though it’s hard, difficult, excruciating—especially with suguru’s own grunts and moans calling out into the night—gojo doesn’t want to risk interrupting this moment. it feels improper and rude, akin to shouting during a performance.

as he admires you both, gojo begins to feel this abrupt sense of jealousy. whether it comes from wanting to be in your place or suguru’s, he cannot decide.

💜: @anthoosies @staryukis @teddybeartoji @lxnarphase @satoruxx @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @bookswillfindyouaway @rosso-seta @sugurubabe @soraya-daydreams @bubblez-blop @arthurschneider @venzlenes @khaothick @haruchiy0 @sillysushi @risuola @hobarihope @crocodilethesir @starlightanyaaa @reodiaries @spicana @lovley212 @katharinasdiaryy @ninikrumbs @imaniitheoneee @luvr-exe @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @trafalgarrattata @sataraxia @elleflying07 @toptierbunny @purplegemadventures @whokilledvivi @getouolgy @exinqiu @flvffybunny @leilalilox @babytoshiii @idkluvv @froggkat @princ3ss-juicy @starsharkz @zzzlevislothzzz @sugu-love @peachyaone @squishies0102 @ivy-vivii @mynahx3 @ratedrrrr @ha-zel-art @hongsxn @tryn-ity @rubyredish @higuchislut @mochi-islive @shhinigamii @insanebiitch @shinninglightning

[emilys-bangs]

unspoken requests | e.p

Tags: shy!reader, fluff, established relationship, use of petnames, soft soft soft emily, severely touch starved reader, YEARN <3

Summary: In which you need affection from your girlfriend and can't find the words to ask.

Word count: 2.1k

The apartment is hush quiet. There’s still warmth to it—the silent TV blinking, the fire throwing an orange glow over the living room, lining the furniture in gilded edges. There’s warmth to it, but it’s still cold. Empty. Too much void, and not enough of your girlfriend.

You hadn’t fully realized how much Emily encompasses the apartment with her physicality, even when she’s silent. She takes up space, flows with warmth.

So even when she takes a short trip to the 7-eleven down the street, you ache.

Sitting on the couch, face tilted to the frosted window and eyes searching the streets for someone who isn’t there, you feel a ridiculous urge to bear the weight of her chin on your shoulder. The softness of her hands wrapping around your middle, her fingers cupping your sides as she’d speak into your cheek.

Your skin tingles with her phantom warmth.

“It’s ridiculous,” you say out loud, so suddenly that Sergio chirps in surprise. His furry head raises up from where it was tucked beneath his paw, the sleepy blink of his eyes making you rub a consolatory path between his ears. “Sorry, buddy.” Your voice lowers. Sergio closes his eyes on the beginnings of a purr, your nails gently scratching through his fur. “It’s stupid to miss her. Right? Totally ridiculous.” You sigh, face between your sweatpant-covered knees. “Doesn’t make sense.” 

She’s only been gone—you look at the clock—12 minutes. And while you know her list of snacks is extensive, you also know the convenience store won’t hold her for long. You only wish she was here to trace herself into your skin, leave you with threads of her perfume that wind their way between the fibers of your clothes.

Sergio purrs up an engine beneath your fingers. Though his eyes are closed you scoop him up, smiling at the bemused protest he meows out.

“Cuddle me,” you demand softly, settling his slight weight on your chest, “until she’s here to do it.”

But even when Emily does come back, your ears perking at the twist of her keys in the lock, your request remains tucked firm under your tongue. Sergio is placed carefully back on the couch before you slide across the hardwood to meet her, your smile stretching as she closes the door with a low sigh.

“Hi.” You greet, hands clasped behind your back—just in case they take over without your permission and aimlessly smooth over her thick coat.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Emily intones softly. Quick as the wind that had ruffled her hair, she leans in and steals a kiss from your cheek, her lips cold. Warmth barely spreads through your skin before she’s leaning back; distance grows between the two of you too fast for your liking, the bag in her hand crinkling as she digs a hand through it. “Got you that chocolate you like.”

“Hershey’s?” Your brows raise, your question answered when Emily holds up said chocolate bar with a grin. A jittery spasm makes your breath stutter, hands unhooking from behind your back to take it. “T-Thank you. You didn’t have to,” you mumble. 

“Sure I did,” she says easily. You take the bag from her hand to let her strip off her coat, though you rather wish it was your hands peeling it off. “It would’ve been mean for me to eat my snacks in front of you if you didn’t have any. Not fun, either.” Her face scrunches in a playful wink that you smile at.

She hangs her coat and turns, the hem of her sweater rising to expose a sliver of her stomach. That, coupled with her rosy, cold-bitten cheeks, coupled with the chocolate you’re still holding, makes you set the snacks on the floor and take her cheeks in hand. Your fingers tremble a little at your boldness; you curl them into the silky threads of Emily’s hair and kiss her. Not hard, but purposeful.

It takes both of you aback for a minute, before Emily’s hand cradles your jaw. She hums—pleased? surprised?—and the feeling of her lips curling up against yours turns your knees to jelly. Her other arm hooks around your waist, slipping home between the downy softness of your sweater. The weight of it brings you flush against her chest.

A blazing fire unfurls across your cheeks, boiling the blood under your skin as you lean back to shove air into your lungs.

“Thank you.” You say again. The hushed timber of your voice is breathless, filled with entirely too much gratitude over a singular Hershey bar.

Emily beams at you, her eyes sparkling. “You’re very welcome, dolcezza,” she says warmly. Her dimple winks at you, the flushed plushness of her lips pulling over her teeth. “If I’d known I’d get this reaction I would have gotten you the whole box.” Her cold knuckle traces over your cheek.

You think the heat emanating from your face could warm it right back up. You clear your throat, your eyes dropping from hers as you take her hand. It’s so icy your brows slip into a frown as you enclose it between both sets of fingers.

“You’re freezing. It must be arctic out,” you tug her to the living room, in front of the fire. You think the bag of snacks is left abandoned at the door.

“Arctic.” Emily echoes, dutifully letting herself be dragged. She kicks off her shoes at the edge of the carpet, and then you’re tugging her down to sit in front of the fireplace. You tuck your legs beneath you; she crosses hers, and when Sergio spots her and the triangle of her legs, he situates himself between them.

It’s odd to be jealous of a cat.

Swallowing it down, you focus on the hand in yours. It’s strangely soft, in spite of the guns she handles every day. Soft with short nails, their edges smooth and her knuckles an angry red. The rest of her skin is pale snow, twice as cold. 

“You should’ve worn gloves,” you kiss her frigid knuckles.

Emily huffs out a laugh. You don’t feel the loving press of her gaze, too preoccupied with kissing warmth back into her skin. It takes a few minutes of massaging circles on her hand before you’re satisfied. When you reach for her other one she lets you, though you’re almost desperate for them to be wrapped around your body, bringing you into her chest.

She’s your girlfriend. It won’t be that hard to ask.

At least, it shouldn’t be.

You finally drag your eyes from the hand in your lap and look at its owner. The red in Emily’s cheeks is hidden beneath the orange glow of the fire. It reflects in her eyes, amber swirling through brown so dark it’s nearly black.

She smiles and the words crumble in your mouth.

But you really, really want a hug.

“Are you…is the rest of you cold?” you ask stiltedly. Emily cocks her head, a crease settling between her brows at your strange wording. “I mean are you still cold, is there anything I can help with? Been inside all day, I’m quite warm.” You shrug jerkily, words tumbling from your mouth with no rhyme or rhythm.

Emily smiles softly. Her lashes cast spidery shadows on her cheeks, the flutter of them enchanting as she leans in. You’re briefly breathless, trapped beneath her gaze as she crowds your space. You inhale and her perfume forms clouds in your lungs.

Your heart kicks.

“Arctic out, isn’t it?” You mumble, dropping your eyes. The warmth of Emily’s hand leaves yours; her finger sidles under your chin, oh so gently tipping it up to meet her eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” you squeak.

Emily grins, honey slow and Cheshire bright. “Can you warm me up?” She asks, her voice low and dulcet. Her thumb skates along your jaw, catching your uncertain pulse. 

“I guess.” You swallow. Her finger is still skimming over your pulse and god, it’s giving you away; your heart almost beats out of your chest. “Yeah, I can do that, if you’re cold.”

“I’m really cold.” She nods.

For a moment you think she’s making fun of you. Then you scan her face, taking in the firm set of her mouth and the twinkling brightness of her eyes. The way she’s looking at you is nothing short of adoring; it’s the warmth of her irises, flowing with more heat than the fire next to you, that makes you relax. She’s your girlfriend. She’s Emily—she would never make fun of you, even if it was just the two of you for miles on end.

“Well, we can’t have that,” you whisper as your arms loop around her neck, finally, finally squishing your chests together, “you’ll get sick.” The tail end of your words trail out in a sigh.

Emily’s hands find their place on your waist. She squeezes, you melt, and Sergio meows in protest and departs from her lap, leaving ample space for you. You don’t climb on top of her thighs, though; you’re more than content with slotting your head into her neck, breathing in the warmth of her.

“We definitely can’t have that.” Emily murmurs. Her voice gets muffled into your hair; she turns her head and finds your temple in a kiss. One of her hands skates up your side, finds the threads of hair at your nape. You almost purr like Sergio. “You’re right, you really are warm. Like a furnace.”

Been saving up warmth for you, you almost say. It’s not true, but sometimes you wish you could flirt with her the way she flirts with you. She constantly charms you, knocks you off your feet though you’re hers already, and from time to time you can’t help but feel the urge to do the same. Can’t help but wonder if she’d stumble over her words like you do, if her eyes would go wide and her cheeks the loveliest pink.

And when she holds you like this, you want her to stay holding on and not let go. Your brain tells you enough, let her go, but your heart yearns to get closer, burrow into her shoulder and maybe sleep there for an eternity or two. She always comes to you for affection. Maybe you could learn to do the same.

Emily’s lips find your temple again. To be fair, it’s the only place she can reach.

“Y’didnt….” You begin then trail off, embarrassment flaming your cheeks. Closing your eyes, you dig them further into Emily’s sweater and snap your mouth shut.

Her fingers comb through your hair. “Didn’t what, babe?”

A grunt-whine gets muffled into her shoulder. 

“It’s stupid.”

“I’ll bet my life it’s not,” she says soothingly, her voice a comforting rumble next to your ear. “Tell me, sweetheart, what didn’t I do?”

By the time you gather the courage to voice your thoughts, your cheeks have cooled. They start heating up again when you press your tongue to the back of your teeth.

“Didn’t kiss me before you left.” You mumble in a mortified whisper. Emily wouldn’t judge you, you know—and she would never let it show if she did—but even to your ears it sounds childish. You were in the bathroom, she was already dressed, it makes sense that she’d leave with a muffled bye through the door.

It makes sense, but you still don’t like it.

Emily’s then nudging your head up again. Coercing your eyes to meet hers, manipulating you into holding her gaze as she holds your cheeks. Your stomach twists in knots, the ones you’ve now come to associate solely with her. Your Emily butterflies.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” she whispers. Distantly, you realize her hands are warm on your cheeks. But the thought dissipates, your brain classifying it as unimportant when her lips hover above yours. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Don’t say sorry,” you manage, almost dizzy with her closeness. 

“But it’s such a terrible mistake.” Emily murmurs. Between each word, a feather-soft kiss is brushed on your lips. “I’d hate to do it again. You wouldn’t forgive me if I did, would you?”

A trapped bird flutters around your chest. You close your eyes, putting more weight behind your kiss when your mouth meets hers again. 

“I don’t think I would.”

Emily hums and takes your lips in a proper kiss. A slow one, gentle, as if she has nothing better to do than this. She takes her time, does it thoroughly and tastes the love you feel but can’t say, her lips finally warmed to the same temperature as yours. She robs you of breath, sweetly, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

When her forehead presses against yours, you spot the smallest blush under the glow of the fire.

“Neither would I.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights@moonlight-simp 

[highway-143]

kissed- nishimura riki

genre: fluffy fluff, est. relationship

pairing: bf!riki x tall fem reader

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01

word count: 592

now playing: kiss me more- doja cat

(proofread)

------<3------

"why are you so cute?"

"excuse me?" riki glances down at you from his phone, pausing his round of candy crush to give you an offended look. you were lying with your stomach on the bed, legs kicking in the air as you flipped the pages of a thick book. riki was on his back, his phone held precariously over his confused face. his eyebrows knitted together in an all too familiar expression.

one you adored.

he rolls his eyes when you laugh, going back to his game. "i'm not cute, i'm handsome."

"yeah, sure" you say sarcastically, twirling your hair while watching him.

"mhmm... you're the cute one in this relationship. don't get it mixed up."

"okay, but like... you're still so cute."

he chuckles, a throaty sound that made your insides twist. "tell me," he says, dropping his phone on the bed and leaning over to face you, his face inches away from yours. "what about me is just so cute, huh?"

you feel a heat rise in your cheeks, but stubborn as you are, you don't back down. "the way your face lights up when you win something in that game. the way your lips pout when you lose, how your forehead scrunches up when you're confused. it's cute."

he laughs. "interesting."

the way his lips move is mesmerizing to you. his jaw flexes with every word, cheekbones more prominent as his silver hair swoops around them. his face is clear of makeup, and his skin glows in the evening light.

you reach up and poke the mole that dots his chin, and a quizzical look flashes on his face.

"what's that for?"

"you know how they say that your beauty marks are where you were kissed most in your past life?"

his deep voice fills your ears, a silky caress as he leans even closer to you. "yeah, so?"

you laugh. "so your past love must have been really short. she couldn't even reach your lips."

he smirks and grabs your hand, pulling it away from his chin and threading his fingers through yours. "then you must have been really short in your past life."

your cheeks flare and he laughs, his smile almost too adorable for you to bear.

"because you know i would choose you again and again, right?"

you scoot forward and kiss his chin, right on his beauty mark. riki's eyes close when your lips touch his skin, and you could feel his grin streching the soft skin under his lips, your own smile forming on his jaw.

when you pull away, he wines, gripping your hand harder. "you know i also have one here?" he asks, pointing at his bottom eyelid, displaying a tear mark that you had obviously known about. there was nothing about him you didn't know.

you press your lips to his closed eye, a soft touch that had riki's heart flipping around his chest.

"i love you," you say, the words a quiet hum as you pulled away. "so, so much."

he closes the gap with a kiss to your lips, his jaw pressing against you in a sweet but strong motion. every sense was on fire as you moved your lips on his, rubbing your free hand on the hair on the back of his hand as the other was squeezed in his.

you pull away for a breath of air, his pants louder than yours as you both recovered from the lightheadedness.

riki smirked and laid back down, grabbing his phone again.

"you're still the cuter one."

------<3------

a.n- tysm for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed! and to the anon, i hope the word count was helpful! i'll try and remember to include it in my other wips XD

[cherry-zip]

hello hellooooo i love all your work!!!! and i saw that requests were open so here i ammmm

i was wondering if you could do a girl dad cheol like reader came home from work one day and saw cheol and their daughter all dressed & dolled up like princesses

thank you so much!!!

─ • CSC .ᐟ Princesses at home

› content ┆ parents Choi Seungcheol x fem reader ⊹ genre .ᐟ fluff. ✎ word-count ┆ 1.3k. ⌁ summary ┆Coming home from work to witness dress up.

✧ here's a request! ✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! this is my first even nsfw fic so bear with me.

The long, exhausting day at work had drained you, but you still couldn’t wait to get home. The weather had been gloomy, and the rain had soaked through your coat, but the thought of your family waiting at home warmed your heart.

As you turned the key in the front door, the familiar scent of your husband’s cooking greeted you. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. What did, however, was the sound of music playing in the living room.

You hung up your coat and stepped further inside, freezing in place at the scene that greeted you.

“Daddy! Look, I’m a princess!” your daughter’s voice echoed through the living room.

You blinked, not quite processing what you were seeing. Choi Seungcheol, your husband, was standing in the middle of the living room. But it wasn’t just any ordinary scene. He was wearing a tiara. And, if that wasn’t enough, he was holding a glittery pink wand.

“Me too, me too!” Your little girl, Seunghee, twirled in front of him, her dress sparkling with every movement.

Both were completely dolled up in princess costumes. Seungcheol, in full princess mode, looked absolutely ridiculous—yet, somehow, incredibly adorable. He wore a dress in pastel pink with a matching tiara perched atop his head, while Seunghee’s dress was a delicate lilac with silver threads that caught the light.

You leaned against the doorframe, unable to contain the chuckle that escaped your lips.

“Seungcheol,” you called, your voice tinged with disbelief. “What... what is going on here?”

Seungcheol looked up at you, his eyes widening. For a moment, he froze in place, clearly caught off guard. But then, his face broke into that mischievous grin you loved so much.

“Oh, hey, babe! Welcome home!” He raised his glittering wand like he was greeting royalty. “We’re just having a little ‘Princess Time.’ I thought it’d be fun.”

 For a moment, you could barely speak, your mind trying to process the sight before you. But then, Seunghee tugged on your pant leg, her face lit up with excitement.

“Mommy, look! Daddy is a princess too! We’re matching!” she exclaimed, twirling around in her dress again, the ribbons fluttering behind her.

You couldn’t help it—your heart melted. Despite how ridiculous it was, the moment was far too sweet to make you upset. Seungcheol was always a bit of a softie when it came to his daughter, and you knew he would do anything to make her happy. And if that meant dressing up like a princess, so be it.

You stepped into the living room, leaning down to Seunghee’s level. “You look beautiful, sweetie,” you said, smoothing her hair.

“And you, my dear princess,” you continued, turning to Seungcheol, “make a rather convincing royal figure.” You raised an eyebrow in playful skepticism, “Are you sure this isn’t your secret dream job?”

Seungcheol shrugged exaggeratedly, flicking a pretend lock of hair from his shoulder. “I could totally see myself as a ruler of the kingdom. I’d make sure there’s cake every day.” He winked.

Seunghee giggled at his antics.

You shook your head, smiling fondly at both of them. “I’m gone for one day, and look at what happens.” You let out a mock sigh. “I leave for work, and I come back to a full-blown royal ball.”

Seungcheol gave a dramatic bow, holding out his hand to you. “Would you care to join us, my queen? The ball is just beginning.”

You couldn’t resist. As tired as you were, you took his hand, allowing him to lead you into their game.

As the music played in the background, you found yourself swept up in the lightheartedness of the moment. You twirled around with Seunghee, laughing as Seungcheol pretended to be a prince who was terribly bad at ballroom dancing.

You realized, watching him try to guide their wobbly waltz, that there was no one else you’d rather be with. The fact that Seungcheol—your tough, strong husband—would do something as silly as this just to make your daughter laugh made your heart soar. You had no idea how, but somehow, he managed to keep both you and Seunghee happy with his antics.

After a few more twirls and laughing fits, you finally managed to get the story behind the impromptu princess session.

“Okay, so how did this all come about?” you asked, sinking onto the couch, with Seunghee nestled in your lap.

Seungcheol plopped beside you, still wearing the tiara with the utmost pride. “Well, Seunghee’s been obsessed with princesses recently,” he began, running his hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. “She kept talking about dressing up as one, but we didn’t have any costumes at home.” He paused dramatically. “So, I took matters into my own hands. I went online, found some dresses, and… well, here we are.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be impressed or confused. “You bought yourself a princess dress?”

Seungcheol nodded, his grin never fading. “I thought it would be cute if we matched. And it’s been a while since I had a good laugh with Seunghee. You know how much she loves her fairy tales.”

Seunghee chimed in, “Daddy’s the best! He’s the best prince(ss) ever.”

Your heart swelled; it was hard to argue with that logic. Seungcheol wasn’t just a great dad; he was also the kind of father who would go above and beyond, even if it meant looking a little silly.

“But…” you said, turning to him with a teasing smirk, “how does the ‘King of the House’ feel about all this princess business?”

Seungcheol raised his chin high, puffing out his chest in mock pride. “I’m embracing my inner royal self. I may be the king of this castle, but sometimes the queen and princesses need to have their fun.” He winked at you, his voice taking on that playful tone that always made you laugh.

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” you sighed, pretending to be exasperated.

“Definitely,” Seungcheol replied with a grin. “But at least I’m enjoying it. And I’m sure Seunghee will remember this for the rest of her life.”

You looked down at your daughter, who was now holding your hand, beaming up at you. “I’ll never forget this, Mommy,” she said, squeezing your hand.

As the night wore on, you all settled into a quiet routine. You ordered takeout since cooking felt like a distant memory, and the three of you ate together while still in your princess costumes. It was a simple meal, but the joy in the room was contagious. Laughter echoed off the walls, and for that one evening, nothing else mattered except your little family.

Later, after dinner, Seungcheol suggested watching a movie —something light-hearted and family-friendly. You sat together on the couch, your daughter nestled between you and Seungcheol, all of you still dressed in your sparkling dresses.

As the credits of the movie rolled, Seunghee drifted off to sleep, her head resting against Seungcheol’s chest. You watched them both, feeling a sense of deep contentment.

“You know,” you said softly, running your fingers through Seunghee’s hair, “I never would have thought I’d come home to a princess party hosted by my husband.”

Seungcheol chuckled, gently smoothing his daughter’s hair. “Well, sometimes the unexpected moments are the best. This one’s a keeper.”

You smiled, leaning against him. “It is. I think she’ll remember this for a long time.”

“And so will I,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Seunghee’s head. “Maybe we’ll make it a tradition. Princess Day, every once in a while.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Seungcheol was always full of surprises—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

For tonight, you were just a family—no work stress, no distractions from the world beyond these four walls. Just laughter, love, and a tiara-wearing dad sparkling with joy. 

And in that moment, it was perfect.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

@ credits┆big thanks to @kyeomofhearts for beta & proof reading this fic (again) ☆彡

❀ a/n┆ my first request is out!

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip" 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[wendichester]

Sam x deaf reader please please pleeease pretty please !!

⊹₊⋆｡˚ sign it,

summary. sam wants to communicate better with you.

pairing. sam winchester x deaf!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 617

notes / warnings. frustration with communication, mutual pining, sam learning sign language.

It starts the way it always does—with you sitting across from Sam at the library table in the bunker, pretending to read and failing miserably. His hair’s too fluffy. The light from his laptop screen is hitting his face in the most annoying golden-boy way. And he keeps glancing up at you like you’re some kind of answer he can’t puzzle out.

You bite the inside of your cheek and look down again, flipping a page you didn’t actually read. Not that you have to. Research isn’t the point tonight. Not really. Sam offered to help, you said yes, and now here you are. Sitting together in your little bubble of soft lamp light and shared glances.

He taps his knuckles on the table to get your attention.

You glance up and he’s already smiling—that soft, boyish one that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He signs, You okay?

You nod. It’s not a lie. You’re okay in the bunker. With him.

He signs again, slower this time, like he’s practicing: You want a break? Coffee?

You grin and give him a thumbs up, then motion toward your cup. Refill?

Sam rises to his feet immediately. He always does that—like your needs are more urgent than anyone else’s. Like he was waiting for an excuse to be good to you.

While he makes the coffee, you watch the way his shoulders shift, the way he mouths something to himself when he thinks no one’s looking. You wonder what it would be like to kiss that mouth. If his hands would be gentle on your face. If he’d sign beautiful to you with his eyes as much as his fingers.

You’re still wondering when he sets your cup back in front of you, careful not to startle you with soundless movement.

You mouth a thank you, and he signs back, Anytime.

Something heavy hangs between you after that. Not awkward, but thick. Like a thread tightening.

You stare at him too long. He stares right back.

And then—slow, careful, soft—Sam signs: I think about you a lot.

Your breath catches. You blink, like maybe you misread it. But his hands are still in the shape of it, lingering in the air like something holy.

I think about you a lot.

He adds, When I’m not with you.

You sit frozen, your heart kicking against your ribs. Your hands shake a little as you sign, Why?

Sam breathes in deep. It’s almost like he’s nervous. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that on him before. Not like this. Not this soft.

He signs: Because I care about you. And I wish I didn’t have to work so hard to say that right.

You lean forward, your chest aching in the good kind of way. You’re saying it right.

He smiles—slow, radiant.

Then, like it’s nothing, like it’s everything, he lifts his hand and signs the word that sends your whole body still:

Love.

Just that.

One word.

One breathless, beautiful thing.

You don’t cry. Not really. But something in your chest melts so completely, it’s like you’re being rewritten.

You reach for his hand and guide it to your chest.

Then you sign it back.

Love.

His eyes close for half a second, like the moment hits him too hard to bear.

When he opens them, his voice is quiet, husky. “Say it again.”

You smile, and you do. With your hands. With your whole heart.

And he says it back, every time. Until the coffee goes cold. Until your hands fall still. Until you’re both sitting there in the hush of the bunker, knowing nothing will ever be the same.

And for once, that’s not scary.

It’s perfect.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[bigfan-fanfic]

Descript of coming into your and his bedroom to get ready for bed to find Bucky on the bed, shirtless, hair down and in his boxers reading please?❤️ cosy vibes. Need cheering up.

Bucky's reading The Silmarillion, hair down, freshly washed and only just looking dry, soft and you can practically smell the gently-scented shampoo he uses. He's in a pair of red plaid-patterned boxers, shirtless, his dog tags and the mate to a set of rings he won for you at a fair he was able to steel himself enough to go to despite the crowds threaded onto a thin chain round his neck. He glances up.

"Hey, sweetheart. You finished up out there?"

You nod. "Yeah. Felt like it was time for bed."

His eyes track you across the room as you head to the bathroom. "I'm glad. It's getting late. Thought I might have to come get you."

"Says the man who rarely sleeps." You tease.

"Maybe I don't sleep, but I'm always happy to be your teddy bear."

"My Bucky Bear, you mean?" you dip into the bathroom as his eyes drift to the housewarming gift Steve had gotten you both when you moved in. A genuine piece of old merchandise - a Bucky Bear, based off of the Howling Commando James Barnes. One of the arms was damaged, replaced with a white one instead. It now sits on your nightstand, there to stand in for its namesake on the rare occasion Bucky isn't in bed at the same time you are.

When you emerge from the bathroom, Bucky's changed the lights to night mode, soft and warm, as if the room were lit by candles, albeit candles that illuminate the floor very well.

He handles the book with one hand now, with practiced ease. It's the one concession he made to his own preferences - while a tablet or book reader would be quieter, he loves a physical book and will turn the pages as quietly as possible.

He's warm and present, able to set his arm around you as you curl into his side. He has a knack for cuddling you to sleep and then easily sliding away when you shift without waking you up.

"Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams."

"Will you be in them?" you ask softly.

He grins. "Soon as you close your eyes. I'll meet you there, sweetness."

Protective, soft, present. As you drift off to sleep, Bucky is there. Taking care of you.

And the last thing you hear before sleep takes you in the soft bed- "I love you."

[yvaineseleneposts]

Under the Pines

Requested: no

Pairing: Jack Hughes x reader

Words: 1.5k

Warning(s): mentions sex but not described in detail

The forest smelled exactly the same. Pine needles, damp earth, and the faint scent of a long-ago campfire clinging to the air. You stepped out of the car, breathing it in like it was medicine. Jack slammed the trunk shut and looked around, eyes wide with cautious wonder.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” he said, adjusting his baseball cap, “this is prettier than I expected.”

You grinned and stretched your arms toward the treetops. “Told you. This place is my favourite. We used to come every summer when I was a kid.”

He walked up beside you, slinging a backpack over one shoulder. “You gonna show me all the secrets then? The legendary ‘best marshmallow roasting spot’?”

“Obviously,” you teased, “but only if you promise not to burn yours into a charcoal meteor like last time.”

Jack put a hand to his chest, mock offended. “That was a creative choice.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling the warmth you always got when you were out here — only now, it was doubled with Jack by your side.

The two of you set up camp with the ease of a couple who had learned how to move together — you staking down the tent while he unfolded sleeping bags, asking every few minutes, “You sure we don’t need a hotel instead?” just to make you laugh. When everything was ready, you took his hand and led him down a narrow dirt path worn by years of your footsteps.

“This is where my dad used to take me fishing,” you said, pointing to a tiny dock overlooking a still lake. “He taught me how to tie knots here. Horribly. We never caught anything.”

Jack looked out over the water, then back at you. “You ever think about bringing kids here someday?”

The question surprised you, gentle and offhanded as it was. You bumped your shoulder into his, smirking. “Maybe. If they don’t mind sleeping on the ground and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.”

“I’ll bring the bug spray.”

You walked in silence for a bit, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the far-off call of a loon. You reached the firepit next — stones stacked in a lopsided circle, probably still half-arranged the way your brother left them years ago.

“I had my first s’more right here,” you said softly, kneeling down to pick up a smooth rock. “It was half raw, half incinerated. But I thought it was magic.”

Jack sat beside you, close enough that your knees touched. “You glow when you talk about this place, you know.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. It’s like… I don’t know. I’m seeing little pieces of your childhood. Like time-travel.”

Your heart swelled. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here. This place feels more alive with you in it.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips over your temple. “I’m glad you let me in. All of it. Even the part where you nearly made me eat a pinecone because you thought it was a secret forest snack.”

You laughed and shoved him lightly. “It looked like something edible!”

As night fell, you built a fire together. The stars emerged one by one, poking holes in the dark sky like lanterns. Jack roasted marshmallows with exaggerated concentration, proudly showing off each golden-brown one before sandwiching it into gooey perfection. You both curled up in sleeping bags outside the tent, watching the sky.

“Tell me another story,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and affection.

You smiled, head resting on his chest, letting the memories wash over you like waves.

“There was this one time,” you began, voice low, “we thought we heard a bear. Turned out it was just my cousin snoring…”

And under the whispering pines, the stars listened.

The sun had barely crested above the trees when Jack stirred beside you, groggy and warm in the sleeping bag. You were already awake, watching the soft gold light filter through the pine needles. It was quiet in the way only nature could be — a hush that held everything still.

“Morning,” he mumbled, blinking up at you. His voice was rough, lazy. “How do you wake up looking like that out here?”

You laughed softly. “Like what? Mosquito-bitten and frizzy-haired?”

“Like... beautiful,” he said, and kissed your shoulder before stretching. “What’s on today’s agenda, Camp Counsellor?”

“I was thinking,” you said with a mischievous smile, “you, me, and that lake.”

Jack raised a brow. “Swimming?”

You nodded. “Unless you’re scared.”

His scoff was immediate. “Please. You’re on.”

By late morning, the sun had fully claimed the sky, warming your skin as you peeled off your shorts and tank top to reveal the brand-new bikini you’d packed — just in case.

Jack did a double take. “Okay, I stand corrected. Now I’m scared.”

You raised a brow. “Scared of what?”

“How good you look in that,” he said, unabashed, eyes scanning every inch of you with that slow, appreciative stare that made your skin prickle in the best way.

“Flattery won’t save you from losing the splash war,” you said, already backing toward the dock.

“You think I came all this way to get shown up?” he grinned.

You turned and ran down the wooden planks, leaping into the lake with a dramatic cannonball. The water was colder than you remembered, but thrilling, waking every nerve in your body. Jack followed seconds later, sending a huge wave crashing your way.

You surfaced laughing, wiping water from your face just in time to get splashed again.

“Oh, it’s on now,” you said, swimming fast toward him. He tried to dodge but you caught him, dunking him under. When he came up, he grabbed you around the waist, spinning you in the water until you were both breathless.

“Truce?” you offered between gasps.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he floated you gently toward the shallow edge, water lapping at your waists, his hands never leaving your hips.

“I gotta say,” he murmured, gaze smouldering as he brushed wet hair from your face, “something about you here… you’re different.”

You tilted your head. “Different how?”

“Wild,” he said, eyes flicking to your mouth. “Free. Like this is the real you. And it’s hot as hell.”

The air between you thickened, charged with sunlight and water and want. You pressed closer, your fingers tracing the muscles of his shoulders, the curve of his neck. “Maybe it is,” you whispered. That’s all it took.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting for it all night. It started soft, careful — then deepened fast, his hands pulling you in until you were flush against him, water sloshing around you. His mouth moved over yours like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you sighed his name when his hands slid down your back.

You tangled your fingers in his damp hair, letting the kiss build, heat rising in your core despite the cool lake. His breath hitched when your lips grazed the edge of his jaw, then his throat.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours, voice rough and reverent. “Seriously.”

You smiled against his mouth. “Guess I’m more dangerous than that bear we thought we heard last night.”

His laugh was low, and he kissed you again — slower now, deeper. More like a promise than a dare.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both breathless and grinning. He tucked a wet strand of hair behind your ear, eyes locked on yours.

“So,” he said, voice husky, “what’s next, Camp Counsellor?”

You smirked. “Dry off. Firewood. Then maybe… see where the night takes us.”

He leaned in close again, voice warm in your ear.

“I’m already counting down.”

The lake still shimmered behind you as you and Jack walked back toward camp, fingers laced, clothes clinging slightly to your damp skin. The sun was beginning to dip, filtering through the pines in golden streaks that danced on the forest floor.

Jack kept glancing over at you, eyes lingering. You didn’t have to ask why — the kiss in the lake had changed something. There was a tension in the air now, electric and slow-burning. It buzzed beneath every glance, every touch, every teasing smile you exchanged as you gathered firewood and sparked a flame in the pit.

By the time darkness settled over the trees and the fire crackled to life, your nerves were taut with anticipation. You sat close on the picnic blanket, the firelight painting Jack’s jaw in warm bronze as he poked at the logs.

“So,” he said, barely louder than the popping embers. “That was a hell of a swim.”

You arched a brow. “Highlight of your trip?”

He looked at you, eyes heavy-lidded and serious now. “That… and the way you kissed me back.”

You turned to face him, heart pounding. “What did that tell you?”

“That I want more,” he said plainly, his voice like velvet and smoke.

You didn’t speak. Just leaned in, slowly, deliberately, until your mouth brushed his again — soft, then hungrier. He cupped the back of your neck, deepening the kiss until your whole body leaned into him. His other hand found your waist, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap.

You straddled him without hesitation, firelight flickering over bare skin as your fingers slid under his damp shirt. He hissed softly at the contact, lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, then down your throat.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, dragging his mouth across your collarbone. “You have no idea.”

Your nails grazed the back of his neck as your hips rolled slowly, instinctively. The friction made him groan into your skin. You kissed him again, deeper this time, pouring every bit of your hunger and heat into it. The kind of kiss that burned hotter than the fire beside you.

His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs, squeezing. “Say the word,” he breathed. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Tent. Now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

You grabbed the flashlight and giggled as he chased you across the campsite, grabbing you around the waist just outside the tent. You stumbled in together, fumbling with zippers and tangled limbs, laughter dissolving quickly into need.

Inside, the air was warm and close, the smell of pine and sweat and lake water wrapping around you both. Clothes came off in a rush — his shirt, your bikini top, the rest a blur of hands and breathless kisses.

You laid back against the sleeping bags, his body hovering over yours, his eyes devouring you in the dim light of the lantern swinging from the tent’s hook.

“You’re even more beautiful out here,” he whispered, kissing down your stomach, “wild and messy and all mine.”

You pulled him back up, crashing your mouth to his, whispering his name like a promise. And when your bodies finally came together, it was slow at first — intense, sensual — like the forest itself had gone quiet to listen.

Every moan, every gasp, echoed softly off the nylon walls. You moved in sync, every kiss deeper, every thrust a little more desperate, until you were clinging to him, fingernails digging into his back, breath coming fast and uneven.

He whispered words into your neck — how good you felt, how much he wanted you, how he’d never forget this moment — and you believed every syllable.

When it ended, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, sweat-slicked and blissfully exhausted, tangled in sleeping bags and whispered laughter.

Outside, the fire dimmed to embers. Crickets sang their lullaby. And inside the tent, your heart finally settled in the safest place it had ever been — right against Jack’s.

The first thing you noticed was the quiet.

Not the total silence of night — the owls had stopped calling, and the wind no longer rustled through the trees — but the kind of quiet that only came with early morning. The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft lavender glow on the inside of the tent. The birds hadn't even started singing yet.

Jack’s arm was draped over your waist, heavy and warm. His bare chest pressed to your back, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you like the earth beneath the sleeping bags.

You shifted slightly, and he stirred, his nose nuzzling the curve of your neck.

“Mm,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep. “Best wake-up ever.”

You smiled, reaching down to thread your fingers with his. “Yeah?”

“I could do without the twigs poking me in the ribs,” he joked, “but... yeah.”

You turned to face him, resting your forehead against his. His hair was messy, and his eyes were soft — no teasing, no cocky grin, just quiet affection.

“Last night felt... big,” you said quietly, not even sure how to name it.

He nodded, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “It was.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The early light made everything feel tender, unguarded — like if you said too much, the moment might break. But then Jack exhaled, and his voice turned serious.

“You know, I didn’t expect this,” he said, gaze steady. “I thought camping would be fun. Maybe clumsy, maybe chaotic. I didn’t think I’d feel like I was seeing a whole different version of you.”

You swallowed, heart full and open. “I think this is me. At least a part of me I haven’t shown in a while.”

“I love it,” he said, without hesitation. “The way you light up out here. The stories. The freckles I didn’t even know you had.”

You laughed, cheeks warming. “You’re not just saying that because I let you get to second base under the stars?”

He grinned, nudging his nose against yours. “Nope. That was a bonus.”

Then, quieter, “I just… I feel closer to you here. Like I’m not just seeing you — I’m knowing you.”

You bit your lip, touched. “I’m glad you came. I’ve always loved this place, but sharing it with you... makes it feel brand new.”

He pulled you in tighter, his forehead resting against yours. “We should do this every year. Make it our thing.”

You nodded. “We can call it ‘Hughes & Co. Wilderness Retreat.’”

“Only if there’s s’mores.”

“And skinny dipping,” you added, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Deal,” he said, then kissed you gently — sweet, lingering, like he had all the time in the world.

Outside, the first bird chirped. Inside, you curled into Jack’s chest, wrapped in the kind of peace that didn’t come often — the kind that whispered, This is something real.

And as the sun rose over the pines, you knew you'd found something out here you hadn’t even realized you were looking for.

[ohnoyuno]

Thread of a Promise 

Pairing: jeong jaehyun x female reader | ft. ilichil Genre: angst, established relationship Warnings: unresolved feelings, emotional tension Word Count: 2917

Summary: Jaehyun cancels on Y/N for the third time, leaving her heartbroken and giving him the silent treatment as she was unable to bear the repeated disappointment. On the day of NCT’s concert, their emotions came to a head, and through Y/N’s quiet yet heartfelt actions, Jaehyun finally understood the depth of her hurt. 

26 August 2023

It was d-day of NCT’s first ever concert as a whole group, NCT Nation: To The World. 

You got up at the crack of dawn, determined to prepare your signature kimbap for the boys. It was your way of cheering them on, and in your words, the kimbap would give them the extra energy they needed for the big night. You had always believed that food had a magical way of bringing people together, especially when it was made with love.

It took you a while to prepare the food, glancing at the clock every now and then to make sure that you were on schedule. After carefully wrapping each roll and feeling satisfied that everything was in order, you packed the kimbap into its containers before cleaning up the kitchen and putting everything away. With the kitchen now spotless, you then went to get yourself ready for the day. 

Once everything was packed and prepared, you set off on the drive to Incheon, eager to deliver the carefully made kimbap to the boys.

After nearly an hour and a half on the road, you arrived at Incheon Munhak Stadium, where the concert would soon take place. As you pulled into the parking lot, one of your manager friends was already waiting to hand you the backstage pass.

With the pass secured, you wasted no time making your way to the waiting room, greeting the staff along the way and handing out the kimbap you had prepared for them. You also made sure to pack portions for the Dreamies, Visions, and Wishes as well, passing them to their respective managers. 

As you reached the door to Illichil's waiting room, Haechan was the first to spot you.

“Noona! You’re finally here! We thought you weren’t coming.” he exclaimed, bouncing on his feet.

You let out a small laugh, adjusting the bag in your hands. “Sorry! Got caught in traffic, but there’s no way I’d miss this.”

Haechan grinned, stepping aside to let you in. “Good, because we need all the energy we can get today.” he said, peeking into the bag you were carrying. “Wait—don’t tell me… is this what I think it is?”

“Of course. My kimbap is your secret weapon, right?” you chuckled.

Just as Haechan was about to respond, the rest of Illichil turned their heads toward the door. “Did I just hear someone say kimbap?” In an instant, Jungwoo appeared at the doorway, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “You really did bring it!”

“You act like I wouldn’t.” you teased, handing him the bag of food. “You guys need all the energy you can get today.”

Yuta, who had been lounging on the couch, smirked as he stood up and stretched. “Our lucky charm never disappoints.”

Jaehyun, still in the midst of getting his makeup done in the corner, kept his eyes on you through the mirror, silently waiting for you to meet his gaze. When you finally did, your smile faltered. It was only a brief glance—almost dismissive, as if he wasn’t even there.

His grip on the armrest tightened slightly, but before he could dwell on it, Taeyong walked in, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. “Hey, you’re here.” he said, his voice gentle while pulling you into a hug. “We really appreciate this.”

“You always take care of us.” Doyoung added, already opening the containers to set up the table with the neatly rolled kimbap. 

“Someone has to.” You forced a small smile, nudging him lightly. 

Jaehyun remained quiet, still seated at the dressing table as the room buzzed with energy. The members gathered around the table, chatting excitedly as they got ready to dig into the kimbap you had brought.

Mark, fresh from finishing his makeup, walked over and glanced at Jaehyun on his way. “Hyung, come eat!” he called, motioning for him to join.

Jaehyun hesitated for a brief second before finally getting up, strolling over at an unhurried pace. His eyes flickered to the empty chair beside you, the only available seat left. It was clear the members had left it open for him.

But instead of sitting down, he turned to Haechan. “Haechan-ah, go over.” he said casually. “I want to sit under the fan.”

Haechan blinked up at him. “Huh? But—”

"Just move." Jaehyun muttered, his frustration evident as he gestured for Haechan to switch seats, choosing the spot furthest from you.

You didn’t react, merely continuing to pass out the food with an unreadable expression. 

The tension between you and Jaehyun has been building for a while now. It had been a week since you last spoke—ever since he stood you up on your date for the third time.

On the morning of your scheduled date, you were having your weekly breakfast with Taeyong when your phone buzzed. You glanced down to find a message from Jaehyun: “Something came up. I’m sorry.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you, and without thinking, you slammed your phone face down on the table.

Taeyong raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You tried to mask your disappointment with a forced smile, brushing it off. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re free tonight, right? Let’s go catch a movie.”

“Aren’t you going on a date with Jaeh— he canceled again, didn’t he?” Taeyong’s eyes narrowed as he connected the dots.

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Taeyong shook his head in understanding. “A movie it is, then. I’ll pick you up after practice.”

No attempt to reschedule, no effort to make it up to you. That was when you made up your mind. You weren’t going to keep making excuses for him. You didn’t even bother confronting him when you saw him the next morning. He briefly apologised again and tried to initiate a conversation, but you ignored him, giving him the silent treatment for the rest of the week.

For days, you didn’t answer his calls or messages. Every attempt he made to reach out was brushed aside, deliberately giving him the space to sit with the consequences of his fault. He didn’t try to fix things. Sometimes, Jaehyun was just dense. Not even realizing the depth of what he’d done or why you were pulling away. It was as if the effort to understand never crossed his mind, and that’s what hurt the most. The feeling that maybe, he never really cared enough to notice.

You’d always face issues like this with silence. Jaehyun knew that. The silent treatment was how you usually processed things, how you created distance when words failed, and when you needed him to feel the weight of his actions.

You understood that with the upcoming concerts and the intense preparation for Golden Age, his schedule was packed. But that was exactly why you had requested a date night weeks in advance, knowing things would only get busier. You had planned ahead, making sure to accommodate his schedules, and yet, he still couldn’t make time for you.

The first time, you let it slide. The second time, you reassured yourself that it wasn’t intentional. But the third time? That was when you finally ran out of patience. It hurt more than you'd like to admit, this feeling of being invisible, like you were just another part of his busy routine. But you weren't about to beg for scraps of his attention. Not anymore. 

Taeyong, who was sitting directly across from you, observed the interaction in silence.

When your eyes briefly met his, he gave you a knowing look, subtle but unmistakable. Without breaking eye contact, Taeyong offered you a small, reassuring smile. 

As Johnny rummaged through the bag of food, he found a container of side dishes at the bottom, marked with a simple ‘J’. Recognizing it was meant for Jaehyun, he slid it towards him with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Jaehyun, Y/N made this for you. You should eat up.”

“I didn’t ask her to. You guys can have it.” Jaehyun said while not even sparing it a glance. 

“It’s not his.” you interjected coldly. “I wasn’t sure if the kimbap would be enough, so I just made some extras.” The sharpness in your voice made the room go quiet for a moment.

Sensing the tension, Jungwoo quickly cut in, clapping his hands together. “Jal meokgetseumnida!” he said cheerfully, prompting the others to follow suit.

Haechan, oblivious to the weight of the situation, piped up, “Jaehyun-ah, you’re seriously the luckiest having Y/N as your girlfriend.”

A swift nudge from Yuta promptly silenced him.

Jaehyun didn’t respond. He merely set down his barely-eaten kimbap, stood up, and walked out onto the balcony. The room fell into an awkward silence as the balcony doors shut behind him. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over, and you had reached your limit.

“Excuse me.” you said coldly, pushing your chair back as you got up to follow Jaehyun.

The air outside was cooler, a stark contrast to the heat of your frustration. Jaehyun stood by the railing, one hand gripping the edge and with a cigarette in another. He didn’t turn around when he heard the doors open, but he knew it was you.

“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?” you said, crossing your arms.

Jaehyun exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you to do anything for me. And mind you, you were the one giving me the silent treatment all week. Aren’t you still mad at me? Why are you even here?”  

“Yes, you’re right. I am still mad at you,” you shot back. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. And it definitely doesn’t mean I’d break a promise I made, that I will be there for every single one of your shows.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “But I guess it was all in my head, wasn’t it?”

He finally turned to face you, his expression unreadable.  

“Jaehyun, I’m mad because you keep pushing me away. Every time you cancel, it feels like you don’t even care to fix things, like I’m not worth the effort. Because no matter how much I try, it’s never enough for you.”  

His eyes flickered with something, guilt, maybe. But he remained silent.  

Without giving him a chance to speak, you let out a sharp breath, frustration bubbling over. “I get it. You’re busy. You have a lot on your plate. But don’t treat it like I’m forcing myself into your life when I’m the one who’s been left hanging over and over again.” you continued, voice shaking slightly.  

Jaehyun finally spoke, his voice low. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I’ve been messing up, and I hate that I keep disappointing you. I’m sorry, Y/N. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to feel like you’re not enough.”  

You shook your head, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “If you hate it so much, then why does it keep happening, Jaehyun? Why do I still feel like I’m the only one fighting for this?”  

“I don’t know.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to fix this.” 

You met his gaze, your eyes narrowing. “What do you even mean by you don’t know?” you asked, the anger laced in your voice. "Do you even want to fix this?" The words came out more sharply than you intended, but the hurt that had been building up inside you couldn’t be contained any longer.

Jaehyun’s breath hitched at your words. His gaze flickered with hesitation before settling into something firmer. Determination. “Baby, of course I do.” he said, stepping closer. “I want us. I just… how can I make up for all the times I hurt you?”

You sighed, crossing your arms and looking away, not saying anything.

Jaehyun exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the ground. Shame flickered across his face as he hesitated, struggling to find the right words. He knew he had hurt you, had pushed you away when all you ever did was try to be there for him.

As if afraid of wasting another second, he stepped forward. “Can I start making it up to you now?”

Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm, sending a familiar chill through you. He paused, his eyes searching yours as if asking for permission, his breath still carrying the faint trace of tobacco, an oddly comforting scent that immediately brought you back to so many memories. Then, without another word, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss.

His lips were warm, tender, but there was an undeniable urgency behind it, as though each second counted. The taste of the cigarettes lingered, mixing with the softness of his kiss, a contrast that made your heart ache with longing. His hands were gentle, but his grip on you tightened as if afraid to let go, as if this moment was something he feared losing. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with your own, both of you craving something that had been missing for too long.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m really sorry.” he murmured against your lips, his forehead resting against yours as he pulled back slightly. His hands cupped your face gently, his eyes searching yours. “For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you’re in fact the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your heart softened, the anger and hurt slowly unraveling in his arms. You let out a small sigh, your fingers lightly gripping his sleeves. “You have lots to do, Jaehyun.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on you tightening just a little. “I know.” pressing his forehead against yours. “And I’m going to do it right this time.”

His sincerity was written all over his face, in the warmth of his touch, in the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

“You better.” you mumbled, though the fight in your voice had faded.

Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head slightly. “Starting with this.” And before you could question him, he kissed you again, soft and tender, a silent promise in itself.

When he pulled away, he laced his fingers through yours. “After the concert, let me take you home.”

You arched a brow. “And?”

“And…” He squeezed your arms, his voice low as his fingers grazed your skin. “Then, let me repay you with a show.” His hands slipped under your shirt, sending a spark of warmth through your body.

You chuckled shyly, shaking your head. “Funny. You have a bigger show to run later.”

Jaehyun paused, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. “True,” he said, his tone teasing. “But the biggest show will always be for you, Y/N. You’re worth it.”

His touch caressing on the bare skin of your waist, his eyes softening. “I promise.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the heaviness of the past weeks melting away in that moment. You smiled, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Jaehyun leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours once more, his lips just inches from yours. “Then I guess I better make this concert count, huh?”

You laughed softly, feeling the tension between you two finally dissolve. “Yeah, I hope you remember that when you’re up on stage later.” you teased, playfully squeezing his cheeks.

“I definitely will.” Jaehyun said, his voice low and steady. “But right now, all I can think about is you.”

The firm, reassuring pressure of his hand on your waist made you feel the weight of all his unspoken words. There was still so much left unsaid, but for now, his actions spoke louder than any apology could. He pulled you into another kiss again, not willing to let go.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world around you blur, all the worries and the time apart fading into the background. 

You noticed the distant sound of the crowd from inside the stadium, signaling that the concert was about to begin. “Go get ready.” you said, pulling his hand out and giving it a gentle squeeze. “The concert’s about to start, and I think the rest of the guys are expecting you.”

Jaehyun hesitated to let go of you, his gaze holding yours for a moment before he snaked in one last kiss, as if to savor every second. “Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Jeong Jaehyun. I’ll be waiting for you after the show,” you said, squeezing his hand one last time before stepping back, giving him space to return to the hectic atmosphere inside.

Jaehyun smiled softly, his eyes holding a mix of affection and warmth. "I'll see you soon." he said, giving you a final hug before stepping back. His presence seemed to linger in the air, even as he turned to walk back towards the waiting room. You watched him go, heart still racing from the moment you shared.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, knowing he was out there living his dream, exactly where he belonged, doing what he loved. And in some small way, you were part of that. For the first time in a while, everything felt right again.

masterlist

[fourthcrow]

── JON SNOW x CHUBBY!READER HEADCANONS.

notes: this is my first time posting my work online, constructive criticism is very much appreciated! this man has me barking like a rabid dog in heat I ain't even gonna lie. not proofread oops. this is rushed because I am very sick this week.

warnings: fem!wife!reader, basic body descriptions, small mentions of insecurities, tooth-rotting fluff, written with later seasons jon in mind, sfw and nsfw. mdni. jon's a munch for his wife.

— SFW. (slightly suggestive)

I feel like jon wouldn't care what his lover looks like, as the saying goes, beauty is on the inside, but there are pluses to having a chubby wife. a soft, plush woman to call his own.

jon loves having a hand on you at all times, and not even in a sexual way. he simply needs that contact, feeling the way your softness contrasts against his own hard build. whether it's a hand on the small of your back as you walk alongside or a steady grip on your plump thigh beneath the table during feasts, jon wants needs to feel you. his favorite thing is probably holding your hand. it's so simple and innocent, and yet the feeling of your soft skin against his own is near maddening. his palms are rough and calloused from years of swordplay and hard work, while yours seem just as delicate as the petals of a rose.

the way your body fits into dresses is one of his favorite sights. the bodice hugs the flare of your hips and outlines the curves of your beautiful body in all the right ways. whenever you wear a gown with a particularly low neckline, it offers a tantalizing view of the swell of your breasts, a teasing sight of what he already knows lies beneath, but still feels his mouth run dry like some green boy. because it's you. you, his gorgeous, sweet, perfect little wife.

if jon could curl up in bed with you and bury his face in-between your chest, in the soft pudge of your stomach, or lie his head upon your lap, and stay there forever — he would do so in a heartbeat. it's one of his favorite places. it makes him feel safe, it makes him feel loved. especially when you delicately trace over his features or run your fingers through his hair.

another thing your husband adores is the way your rounded cheeks split into a grin each time you see him. it's so very endearing, watching the way your visage shifts, enlighten by his very presence alone.

very much gives grumpy x sunshine. jon, your quiet, brooding, king in the north who only ever shows his sweeter side to you, all vulnerable and caring in the warmth of your embrace. he would not hesitate to defend you whenever needed. while jon loves your body, all its softness, all its warmth, he knows that self-love is much harder for you. some lady from the court whispered under her breath about you? not happening. a drunken lord called you a horrid name between a snicker and another swig of ale? not on jon's watch. you're his wife, his love, and he will not stand for any disrespect. he only wishes you could see yourself through his own eyes.

and then there's the more practical side that comes with the extra bit of weight you carry. winters in the north are harsh and unforgiving. jon doesn't want some frail, delicate woman who he fears won't make it past the season. you come with a bit of extra hardiness, extra warmth.

another aspect of such topics is the prospect of carrying children — if that was something you both would wish for — again, jon doesn't want a fragile thing to worry about. he doesn't want you to break while you're carrying his child, and while he will still worry, he knows your body is practically made for bearing his little wolf pups.

— NSFW.

we already know that jon is canonically a munch. between your legs is surely better than whatever paradise comes after death. the way your fingers thread through his dark curls, tousling them from their bun, your pliant body squirming beneath him. oh, it's his own personal heaven. jon loves the way your plump thighs wrap around his head as he worships you with his tongue and lips. he could spend an eternity there, slurping up your nectar and suckling on your swollen clit. it has him groaning against your cunt and grinding against the featherbed.

jon loves the sight of your body sprawled out beneath him, your hair splayed across the pillows like a silken halo, framing you as his angel in the flesh. he loves to watch the way your flesh molds to his fingers as he grips your thighs or waist, the way the skin ripples with each one of his thrusts.

and your boobs. gods, your boobs. it doesn't matter what shape they are, or how big they are, he would kiss and suck and knead them until you were whining, crying out for him for more. I am a firm believer that jon snow is a boob guy.

his favorite thing when you are intimate is simply holding you as close as possible. with one strong arm tucked beneath your body, keeping you pressed against the hard planes of his chest as he drags his hips against yours. his other forearm is propped beside your head, keeping him up so he can watch the way your face scrunched in bliss, the way you look up at him like he's your whole world. his hand cradles your cheek, thumb reverently stroking your skin as he keeps you close and makes you cum.

[hees-mine]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Synopsis: Ever since the first night of playtime with your big brother, you couldn’t wait to spend more bonding time with him.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, stepcest, step brother, tit job, hand job, oral male receiving, fingering, inexperienced reader, dry humping, kissing, pet names.

If you’re uncomfortable with step relationships, this is not for you, so please kindly click off. Also they are both consenting adults. This is a work of fiction.

Genre: 18+, smut, minors do not interact!

WC: 2,622k

PART ONE

You were cuddled up in your blankets after finishing your bath. It was 10:00 P.M, and you were waiting for your brother to come and play with you again. You couldn’t wait to see him. He’d been gone for most of the day, and you missed him a lot. You pout at the thought today was the longest you ever spent away from him.

A soft knock on your door makes you jump in shock, but you quickly smile after seeing your big brother step through the door with a huge grin on his face. “Bubba!” You run to him at the door with your arms open, engulfing his large frame in a hug.

“Hi, sissy” When he doesn’t hug you back, you lean away from him with a clear look of confusion on your face.

“Why aren’t you hugging me?” You say sadly, and your arms drop to your sides.

He just laughs at your adorable little face. “Surprise!” He shows you what he’s been holding behind his back. It was the big teddy bear that you saw in the mall the other day, and when you asked for it, your parents said you already had too many, but that sure didn’t stop heeseung from getting it for his precious baby sister.

You gasp and practically yank the stuffed animal from his arms, pressing it to your cheek and feeling the warmth and fuzziness of its fur. “Thank you, Bubba!”

As you sat on your bed hugging the bear, heeseung closed the door, making sure he locked it before joining you in the bed. “You’re welcome, baby sis.” he leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead, making you feel all warm inside. “Now, are you gonna play all day with that bear, or do you wanna play with your big bubba?”

His face lights up when you toss the bear on the other side of the bed and immediately cling to his waist. “Wanna play with big Bubba”

“That’s what I thought.” he wastes no time grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling the loose material over your body. “Arms up,” you automatically obey and lift your arms so he can pull your shirt off. The soft bounce of your tits makes him sigh with nothing but pure delight as he smiles, and so do you. “Lay down, little one” The way you listen to everything he says without even questioning it makes his cock grow rigid beneath his pajamas.

He lays between your legs, leveling himself with your perfect mounds. Sticking his tongue out, he swipes over your erect nipple and hums from the softness on his tongue. “Bubba,” a mewl comes from your delicate frame, and he sucks your hardened bud into his mouth.

Naturally, your back arches slightly, and you begin to buck your hips against him as the heat between your legs intensifies.

He notices the way your hands rest at your sides, and he grips your wrist, guiding your hands to his head. You carefully threaded your fingers through his soft black hair, and he hummed, sliding his hand up to your chest and cupping your breast in his hand soft and gentle. “This feels good right little sissy?” You nod your head, eyes already glazed over with need and arousal.

That same wet, sticky feeling that you felt before was coming back, and you weren’t quite sure what was happening. It only happened when you were around him or if you thought about doing playtime with him.

The bucking of your hips becomes less subtle, and he pulls off your nipple to switch to your left one while scooping both your breasts into his large hands.

Biting on your lip to muffle your moans was nearly futile when you were being so loud.

Heeseung leaned back to lift up his shirt and expose himself to the curious yet shy gaze in your eyes. It makes him chuckle and twitch in his pajamas. As your eyes traveled to his cock he looked down at the very, very evident bulge and blushed slightly. He was already so hard just by being with you.

Instead of verbally answering your curiosity, he simply shimmied out of his sleepwear, showing you himself for the very first time.

You quickly covered your eyes, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. A part of you felt scared, but the other felt very excited.

His laugh makes you take your hands away from your eyes. No matter what you did, your gaze never faltered from what was between his legs. “It’s okay to look, baby sis.” he climbed on the bed, straddling your chest as he toyed with your nipples some more. “You can touch me too.”

You looked so fucking cute under him, big round eyes shiny and full of innocence while you shakily placed your hands on his thighs. “Go on,” he encouraged with a smile, and when you poked his shaft and jumped slightly, a hearty laugh bubbled in his chest as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “You’re so cute.” he clasps your hands with his larger ones.

“Wanna touch you some more” you pout, freeing your hands from his grip.

“Okay, want me to show you how I like it?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side as you nod eagerly. Taking your hand, he places it on his length, hissing as your cold hand wraps around the base. “There you go,” he whispers as his eyes grow darker. “Now rub it up and down like a good little sister.”

“Like this?” Your brows crease slightly as you move your hand up and down. He felt so big and warm in your hand, and you wanted to hold him more.

“Mm-hmm,” he grips the bed frame to stabilize himself, gritting his teeth so as not to wake up your guy’s parents in the next room. “See that on the tip?” He breathes out, and you nod. “Rub it all over.”

He moans when you skim the head with your thumb and begin coating his cock with his precum. “Is that right?”

“Yes, you’re doing so good for big brother.” he moved his hands from the bedpost and gripped your breasts. “That’s good,” he says softly and situates his cock between the soft flesh, slowly thrusting back and forth. “You feel so good, sissy,” he groans, eyes fixated on his thick veiny cock pushing past your tits. His tip peaks out every time he ruts forward, nearly grazing your lips.

You almost go crossed-eyed watching him on top of you, and you clench your legs together. The unfamiliar pulsating between your legs makes you cry out softly.

He averted his gaze to you, and he could have come seeing you hungrily staring at his cock. “Stick your tongue out, sissy,” he whispers. As soon as the words leave his lips, your tongue is hanging out all pretty and pink. “Now lick it like your favorite Lolli.”

You lap at his tip, eyes widening from the strong taste, and your heartbeat grows rapid the longer you feel his hot skin hitting your wet tongue. “How’s it taste?”

“Sweet,” you answer him as fast as possible so you can quickly go back to licking him. It tastes so good that you keep going back for more and more.

“Yeah?” He smirked at your words. “Suck on the tip” his thrusting came to a halt. If he continued on like that, he was surely bound to cum.

“Yes, Bubba” You open your mouth, the corners stretching far to accommodate his tip as you begin to suckle on it slowly.

“Oh fuck” he whines and throws his head back. The pleasure very short-lived when you stop sucking him in fear that you may have done something wrong.

“Sorry,” you say, feeling bad for what you had just done. “I hurt you.” You knew he only used words like that when something bad happened.

“Oh, it’s okay, sis.” he stroked your cheek with his palm. “You didn’t hurt me, see?” He smiles to make you comfortable and talks to you in the sweetest tone he can muster. “You’re making Bubba feel so good.”

“You don’t have to lie.” You turned your head away from him. “You only say bad words like that when you’re upset, Bubba.” You mumble and avoided all eye contact.

“Fair, but I also say that when I’m feeling really good too, and sissy Bubba feels so good right now,” he places your hand on his shaft, and you feel it hard and pulsating in your hand. “Feel how hard that is?” You nod innocently. “If you hurt me, it wouldn’t be so hard,” he chuckles. “That’s all because of you. You did that, baby sis. Only you can make Bubba this hard, okay?” You eye him In amazement, wondering how you were able to make him like that but no one else. The new knowledge made you feel proud. “Now go on and make your bubba feel good some more.” he pinched your cheek softly.

Opening your mouth, you cover the tip and even go a little further, taking him by surprise. An unwanted moan escaped his heaving chest, and he prayed it wasn’t as loud as it sounded to him. “Just like that, sissy” his mouth falls open, and he nearly drools the sticky sound of you slurping on his tip enough to make him feel like cumming then and there. The involuntary buck of his hips makes you gag, and his eyes grow wide and panicked. “I’m so sorry sissy. Are you okay?” You just giggle and suck him back in your mouth. The gag felt thrilling, and you wanted to feel it some more, he moans, feeling your hot mouth once more. You took him completely by surprise with your bold actions. He made sure you were one hundred percent okay before thrusting again and again until you were drooling on his big thick cock, and he’s more than impressed with how well you sucked him off for your first time. “Sis-“ he groaned while looking at your mouth covering him whole. It was so wet and sloppy, just the way he loved it. His head started to spin when you made eye contact with him, and he had to pull out of your mouth, panting and trying to catch his breath as his cock throbs in need of release.

You couldn’t react to his sudden departure because his hands were already pulling down your shorts and your panties till they were at your ankles. “I love how wet you get for me.” A feeling of warmth washed over you at his words. You loved it whenever he complimented you. It always made you feel so happy.

He laid down on top of you, gently opening your legs so he could fit in between them. “You wanna cuddle again?” His voice is low and deep in your ear as he holds you in his muscular arms.

“Yes, Bubba.” his chest being pressed against yours made your heart flutter. He was so close that it made you shy as you ducked your head down.

“You’re so cute,” he beams and tilts your head to look at him, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he reaches below, easily finding your clit and working it in tiny circles.

“Bubba!” You cry, hands flying to his back to brace yourself, and his hand immediately cups over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he looked you in the eyes with a stern look as he kept rubbing your private parts, spreading the wetness over your mound and covering you in your leak.

Your sounds were muffled, and they increased in volume. Luckily, his hand was enough to silence them when your eyes dropped low. He knew you were close, and he stuck two of his fingers deep in your hole to get you used to the feeling, his thumb still caressing your clit. “Cum” he whispered in your ear. You’re unsure of what he meant, but the shiver that went down your spine, along with the intense feeling down there, was enough to drown out any previous thoughts. “Good,” he drawled out the word, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

His hand stayed firmly cupped to your mouth, knowing you’d get even louder when he penetrated you.

He held his base, aiming at your hole. Slowly dipping his tip in, he pulled out and rubbed over your coated folds staining his cock in your juices before slipping it in inch by inch.

He paid close attention to your face when he was fully sheathed in your heat, the soft flutter of your warm, wet walls around nearly making it impossible for him not to let out a few moans of his own. “Like it sissy?” He whimpered, slowly rolling his hips and filling you out.

All you could do was nod, and he smiled, speeding up his thrusts until little squeaks could be heard beneath his palm. “My little sissy is so tight,” he groaned, snapping his hips fast and rough, getting you adjusted to his cock so you could take him with ease the next night. “Soaking your big Bubba like a good girl.”

You haven’t felt something so intense before, but it felt otherworldly having him on top and inside you. You couldn’t get enough. He always knew how to make you feel so warm and so good.

“Bubba’s gonna make you warm again. Want that?” He kissed your cheek softly, knowing he only had a few more strokes in him till it was over.

You screamed yes, but it could barely be heard past his hand, but he definitely got the message. “You’re so so good for your big brother, such a good little sister.” You felt his hand on that same spot from earlier. It felt good the first time, but it felt even better this time and again. That feeling in your lower tummy exploded, and you let out a cry, violently shaking underneath him.

“Sissy,” he moaned, uncupping your mouth to kiss you, attempting to quiet his own sounds as they got drowned out by you sloppily kissing each other. “I love you, I love you so much, sissy,” he whines into the kiss as he fills you up with his seed emptying out in the deepest part of you as he breathes deeply and makes out with you the best of his abilities.

Drained and barely able to move from the mind-numbing activity, you lay there desperately trying to catch your breath. “Breathe, little one.” he strokes your forehead and kisses your cheek. “Relax.” he holds you close, whispering in your ear how good you make him feel. “Love you, sis. Your big bubba loves you so much.” he kisses every inch of your face, smothering you when you’re finally able to think straight.

“Love you too, big Bubba,” you tell him shyly, and he hugs you tighter than ever.

He pulled out reluctantly, and he got about halfway before pushing back in. Not being able to part with you so soon, he at least wanted to cuddle for a few more minutes. Besides, your parents wouldn’t be waking up this late. “Mmm, Bubba,” you moan as you still feel him stuck deep inside you.

“Bubba’s gonna hold you while you sleep.” he kissed your neck resting beside your head.

“Okay, goodnight, Bubba.” Your eyes fall shut soon after from exhaustion, and the last thing you feel is a kiss on your lips and the warmth of him between your legs before drifting off to sleep.

Heeseung was just waiting till the weekend when both your guy’s parents went on vacation. Then he could really have you to himself, and you both could be as loud as you wanted, and every night would end in playtime.

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback!

[nachotrash]

Leopold x PersonalGuard!Reader

A/N: finished this in 4 days based on this thread with the lovely @rosenclaws. Now I have 23 tabs open with Victorian era customs and etiquette and other facts (half of which I didnt even use) so yippieee. Haven't written since august so I'm a lil rusty bear with me lol

Tags: Violence, blood, reader gets injured, Lord Millard, Otis is your dad, the angst is not as angsty as I'd like it to be--might write a seperate drabble based on purely the angst, laundanum (opium) as a painkiller mention, Leo being whipped for you

Wordcount: 3k

“Your Grace? The carriage is ready.”

Leopold nodded, turning back to the richly dressed woman in front of him with a polite smile. “Well, I’m afraid that we will have to cut our time short, Lady Isabelle. It was an honor to be in your radiance tonight. I wish you the best.”

He kissed her hand with a short bow, leaving the hostess giggling before he followed his escort to the carriage at the front gates.

“‘Your radiance’? That’s bardic, even for you.” You commented with a grin, one that only grows wider as he looks you up and down. We’re it any earlier, he’d have replied with more banter.

“Tired?” You open the carriage door for him.

“I am.” He breathes, sinking into the velvet cushions of the cart. You climb onto the perch up front with an understanding hum.

“Try to get some sleep then,” you advised. “It will be just you and me for about 4 to 5 hours if everything goes well. Don’t be alarmed, I won’t be disruptive.”

——

Everything did not go well.

They were maybe an hour or two away from home, the forest seemingly endless while engulfed in the nightly abyss. Leopold had long dozed off to the sound of the horses hooves clip-clopping against the dirt road when he was suddenly awoken by someone knocking on the very window he was leaning on. It was you.

He was immediately wide awake once he recognizes the knocking pattern.

tok tok tok… pause… tok tok

This was the code you two had agreed upon in case you weren’t able to verbally communicate due to possible danger. It was merely just meant to alert the other and you never really thought that you’d need it, but here you are.

Your heartbeat quickened while your gut churned in uneasiness. Something was wrong. Something had changed in the ambiance around them. Someone else is with you in the forest and they don’t seem friendly.

You kept riding, keeping the same pace as you did before. There is no way you could give yourself away. It would be too dangerous.

Just as they were starting to near the edge of the forest and into town, as you were about to sigh in relief, a lanky man leaped out of the bushes in front of your horse. You remain quiet.

“Excuse me, sir? We would like to pass through, thank you.”

He grinned in such a way that made your skin itch. “Sorry sweetheart. Nobody is going past this point any time soon.”

He pulls his sword, and so do you as you hop off the horse. Your gun is tucked safely in your coat, only to be used in emergencies.

The moment your boots hit the ground he lunges at you. You barely managed to parry it before he throws… sand? In your eyes. You stagger back, groaning as you furiously wipe away the sand and try to find him.

He was beside you, grinning creepily before it’s replaced with a yell in pain, blood oozing out from where you had just struck him.

With a furious roar, he charged at you once again, swords beating against eachothers as you each try to take the other out.

You glance back at the carriage every so often, just to make sure that Leopold is okay, until your eyes widen at the sight of him struggling against two more abductors. You knew that Leopold could stand his own ground if he needed, but he’s still no match against two more experienced men. You had to help him.

You thrust the other’s sword to the side, spinning around to get to Leopold when something crashed into the back of your skull. Your vision flickers, going black completely before it returns.

You look around, heart and head pounding.

6 more people have joined the fight. There is no way you can fight them off. You’re gonna have to make a run for it.

BANG BANG

The two men trying to drag Leopold out of the carriage drop limply onto the ground, who now stared at you in pure shock. For a moment, the world went quiet.

Then the adrenaline rushes past your ear again. You parry a strike from the guy behind you and shove your gun back into your coat, motioning for Leopold to grab the horse.

“Leo! We’re going! Get on the horse!”

He nods, sprinting to the now panicked animal with you right behind him. You cut off the leashes tying the horse to the cart with one swing of your sword and just like that you were gone.

You rode in silence for a bit as both of you caught your breath. There is no time to waste though, who knows what else may be waiting for you?

“Your Grace, are you hurt? Where have they injured you?” You ask without looking up, making sure the horse was galloping as long as he can. You’d giggle internally at how Leopolds arms tighten around you with every jolt of the horse, but you couldn’t afford to let your guard down now.

“I-I’m… i’m alright. What about you? You were the one actually fighting..” he panted, concern rolling off his words in waves.

“I’m good. Just a cut to the calf and upper arm. Nothing serious.” You replied curtly. Your entire body burned and your head was pounding, but that’s normal with these levels of exhaustion.

——

The sun was already rising as you finally arrived at the estate. The horse was soon taken away by Otis, who appeared at the front gate when he heard the clipping of hooves against pavement approaching.

Exhaustion rolls off your backs once you finally step into the main hall. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, the pain from your injuries slams into you at full force. You stagger, clutching your pounding head while your vision flickers. For a split second, everything goes dark. You feel yourself falling.

Leopold breath hitches as he sees you slump to the floor. He’s by your side in an instant.

“Where are you hurt? Come on, hey..!”

To prevent you from hitting your head in the tiled floor, he reaches down to hold it up.

His stomach drop as his hands meet something sticky.

Blood.

Now that he gets a chance to look at you properly, he realized just how bad in shape you are. Blood seeped through the navy fabric of your coat, smudging onto the cold tiles as you writhed in pain.

He had to help you.

Your body jerked as you feel two arms wrap around your waist and knees and hoist you up, the sudden change in friction causing pain to shoot through your body.

Everything around you happens as if it took place in another room. Somebody was talking to you, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. All you knew was that whoever picked you up—probably Leopold, you think— was really warm and soft. And you’re cold and tired. Some sleep won’t hurt, right?

Meanwhile, it was as if Leopold was in a completely different building instead of his house. He doesn’t remember the last time he went to the physicians himself, but lord, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he lost you because of it. He glanced down as he paced through the hall, fingers clutching your body even tighter as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“You’ll be alright. I-I promise. Just… stay with me, hang on.” He whispered, not sure if he even believed his own words.

He didn’t want this. He never wanted you to get hurt because of him.

Some part of him foolishly believed that as long as he’s around, he’d be able to protect you. That he’s be able to keep you safe instead of the other way around, no matter that you were ‘technically’ supposed to protect him.

The two of you have known eachother for longer than anyone else. He could still remember the day Otis was introduced to him, when he’d just arrived at his uncles after the death of his parents. Millard had taken the terrified boy back to his manor so he wouldn’t have to suffer more than he already had. Yet, it took him weeks to be able to sleep in his own room without crying. In an attempt make him feel less alone, Otis had brought his child with him so he could have some company of his age. And that child was you.

You two warmed up immediately. While he was often ‘disgraceful’, as per his uncle’s words, he has never once made you feel like you’re less important than him. Perhaps that’s what strengthened your silly little childhood crush on him. You’ve always been extremely aware of your difference in social status, having been reminded countless times by your father and Lord Millard throughout your childhood. Maybe that’s the reason you shook off the way Leopold would look at you when you’re strolling in his garden on a summer night. Maybe that’s why you purposefully pretended that you didn’t know from whom the letters were that appeared outside your windowsill every February. Maybe that’s why you slowly stopped calling him by ‘Leo’ and changed to ‘Your Grace’.

You feel like you can read him like a book, yet you can’t seem to be able to figure out what to do with it. On the off chance that he does feel the same, you’d be risking his wrath or even everything that he had should Lord Millard decide to disown him for it. You couldn’t do that to him. So you held back, planning to never tell him the truth despite it slowly crawling itself up your guts.

As you two grew up, you started hanging out less and less, both being obligated to your duties. It would not be before his coming of age party that you’d be reintroduced to him, now as his personal guard. Thankfully, there was no awkward phase, and you quickly became close again.

Except… now that he’s of age, his uncle would get more and more desperate at pushing him to get a wife. You’d nod in agreement when Leopold would complain to you about it and add more snarky remarks to his vocabulary, but deep down you were crumbling. The only positive thing you can get out of this is that he seems like he doesn’t like to marry others either.

Sometimes, you’d reread the letters he wrote you when you were little, which would leave you all giddy yet leave your heart aching because you know that it’s just not possible. However, just being around him is enough.

So you made up your mind. Being no more than his friend and guard is what you’ll stay. And you’d do anything to honor that.

——

Sounds start fading back in and the first thing you notice is how heavy and sore you are. You slowly open your eyes, adjusting to the light in the room as the blurriness slowly fades way.

“How is your vision?”

You turn to the side to see your father standing nearby, his tailcoat hanging off a chair.

“Ah… father..?” You croak out, surprised at the dryness of your mouth. He nods as he hands you a glass of water which you gulp down greedily, wincing at the pain from the sudden movements.

“So? How is your vision?”

“…it’s good, I think? I can see fine.” You take a deep breath.

“Father, I know that it’s not—“

To your surprise, he cuts you off.

“I know. The young master told me everything I needed to know before he… fell asleep.” He motions to the other side of your bed, where you now realize Leopold sat hunched over the white sheets. You open your mouth to speak but was shut off again.

“We’re both very aware of what I have always told you, so I will spare you it tonight.”

He turns around, grabbing his tailcoat again and putting it on.

“Oh, and dear?”

“Yes father?”

“I believe you did the best you could in this situation. I’m not upset. Just glad you’re alright. Proud of you, sweetheart.”

Maybe it was the laundanum in your blood or the exhaustion in your bones, but you feel yourself tearing up. You quickly wiped them away, smiling sincerely back at your father.

“Thank you, papa. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, I have been called to tend to His Grace, so I’ll be taking the young master with me. Try to sleep, alright?”

You nod, and he walks over to put Leopolds coat over his shoulders, causing him to jolt awake. He glanced around frantically, body physically deflating in a relieved sigh when his eyes land on you.

“Oh… thank goodness you’re awake. I… for a moment I thought..” he didn’t finish his sentence. “Since you hit your head and all and…”

“Your Grace, why are you here? I-I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it.” You added quickly “I just thought you might be in your quarters resting instead.”

Leopold stared downwards for a moment.

“Otis?”

“Yes, young master?”

“Could you please leave us some space?”

“As you wish.”

Once your father has left the room, Leopold immediately turns closer to you.

“I wish you’d told me about your injuries.”

“I apologize, your grace. I—“

“Leo.”

You blink.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Leo. Just… call me Leo again. Please.” The whispered plea sends your heart rate up, and for a moment you had no response.

“Ah.. um.. Leo. Look, I only had one objective and that was to get you to safety. It’s all part of my job, you know?” You can’t meet his gaze, afraid you might break and spill everything.

There is a bit of silence, and you’re scared to have angered him when the next thing you feel is a warm embrace. Your breath hitches before you melt in his arms. Leopolds hands were shaking as he held you, making sure to avoid your wounds.

The comfortable silence stretches on for a while as you hug him back. It’s soon broken by another whisper.

“…Can I… tell you something?” He pulls back and you look at him with slight confusion.

“You can tell me anything?”

His eyes trail over your face, lingering on your eyes before blinking.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The world stops around you once you process what exactly came out of his mouth. In love? With you? The blood rushes to your face and you find yourself scrambling for a reply.

“…What?”

You see him hesitate for a moment, still looking back in your eyes.

“I am in love with you. Will you allow me to court you?”

He’s practically shaking with nervousness, chewing on his cheek for a moment but speaking up hastily when you still haven’t responded, staring at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Please forgive me. I-I’m aware that one should always write a formal letter to their partner prior if he wishes to court them,” the young duke started pacing back and fourth, rambling with a red face. “Worry had overcome me when I started to realize I may not see you again because you injured your head a-and I didn’t get the chance to write you anything. I know! I’ll get Otis to bring me some—“

“Leo!”

He froze at the sound of your voice. Anxiety grips his heart when he realized just how un-put-together he acted in front of the one person he’s been trying to impress all his life. But when he turns back to you, he finds you smiling up at him with glossy eyes.

“Of course I wish to enter a courtship with you. I’ve wanted to for years.”

You swear you’ve never seen him light up this much before. He practically leaps to the sit on the side of your bed and grasps your hand.

“Y-you’re sure about this?”

You nod.

He couldn’t believe it. He’s been convinced that he’s lost his chance to be together with you once you two grew older. The way you stopped calling him by his name, instead moving onto his title. Or how your smile feels slightly off when he’s telling you a joke. That little drawer in his quarters hold at the very least a dozen of nearly sent letters where he’d confess his love, but he always backed out at the last minute, because there is no way you’d reciprocate. He’s blown his chance and he’ll have to deal with that regret for the rest of his life.

But then the last 24 hours has changed his view completely. Leopold has always been scared that he’s going to have to leave you someday, not realizing that there is a chance that you might leave him instead.

Thumb absentmindedly drawing circles on your hand, his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips.

“May I…” he stops himself, feeling his face grow red again.

“May I kiss you?”

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly. He smiles softly.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need a clearer answer”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You may kiss me.”

Leopold wastes no time, letting go of your hand to cup your face as his lips meet yours. You’ve never kissed anyone before but you do make a mental note of how soft they are. You can feel your heart hammering against your ribs and you’re pretty sure he can feel it too with how close you are. The fingers tangled in his hair, how one of his hands slide down to your neck…

You pull back with a giggle, noticing how he chases after your lips a little with a dazed look in his eyes before he realized that you stopped kissing. You giggle again and he swears he’s about to lose his mind with how sweet you sound.

Then the exhaustion from the past 24 hours finally comes crashing down on the both of you. Leopold takes off his shoes and you scoot over as he slides under the cover next to you. He makes sure not to touch your bandaged body parts as you feel his chest press up against your back and you feel all the tension leave your body.

“Didn’t your uncle need you for something?” You hummed.

“I’m sure Otis can handle it just fine without me.”

[prentissluvr]

OKAY HERE ARE SOME SAM THOUGHTS BEFORE I CLEAN MY ROOM (some platonic but mostly romantic)

loves getting his hair played with (romantically and platonically)

main love language is quality time

could have this giant on his knees if you compliment constantly (his looks or his personality) (mainly his personality) (he knows and is aware of how conventionally attractive he is but isn’t cocky about it) (like another winchester LOL)

runs warmer than the average human being so he’s your personal heater in the winter

but in the summer you make sure he stays far away from you bc man sweats A LOT in his sleep 😭😭

I HAVE MORE BUT I GOTTA CLEAN MY ROOM

ILL BE BACK LATER WITH DEAN AND MORE SAM 🤭🤭

djhJHFSKDJ SAMMMMM AAA okay okay bear with me while i go absolutely insane LMAO. like this is long LOL so i am gonna add a cw for anyone who stumbles upon our time of feeding each others delusions <3 i got carried away ahahahaha hehehehehe i'm normal about him tho!

wc: 1.6K. cw: kissing, a bit of swearing, brief mention of things trying to kill you bc that's the life lol, unedited

⟢ playing with his hair : do NOT get me started on sam's hair <3 it's always so pretty, and you have to make that known! sure, you do it out loud, but we'll get to the complimenting in a bit hehe. your favorite way of making it known (and definitely his) is by playing with it. constantly. and he can never get enough. sure, he gets embarrassed or picky about it around dean, like he does with just about anything romantic or sweet (mostly because dean won't ever let that sort of thing go un-teased). but he just loves so much to lay his head in your lap and let you thread your fingers through that pretty brown hair <33 it makes him feel so relaxed, and cared for in a way that doesn't feel overbearing or overly obvious.

and he loves it especially it because he knows that you do. he can feel you physically relax from under him when you sweetly run your hands through his hair, gently pulling apart any small knots and taking your time to take care of that gorgeous head of hair. he will also certainly melt and try to hide the pink tint to his cheeks when you reach for his hair unexpectedly, like when you lean in to fix a fly-away strand or full on card your hands through his hair when he's in the middle of research and didn't notice you approach.

also!! put your hands in his hair when he's kissing you!!! please!!! he's begging on his knees!!! god, he loves that so so much and he gets a secret ego boost because, once again, he can physically feel how much you love it too. he'll always kiss you harder when your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair.

gets embarrassed if you put little braids in his hair, especially as he grows older and it grows longer, but he can't resist how much it makes you smile, so he lets you get away with it if dean isn't around. and just imagine putting pretty clips in his hair LOL he pouts and asks you to take them out immediately, but not before kissing the smug grin off of your lips. will die and try his hardest to delete them if you ever get pictures of him like that, but you keep your blackmail well protected hehe.

as for platonically, that is facts! he thinks its very sweet if you're his best friend or sibling! it's not as big a thing as it would be in a romantic relationship, but he'll love to have his hair played with by anyone willing <33

⟢ love language; quality time : this is like almost sad and especially sweet at the same time because the poor boy has no time to spend much quality time with you. but again, this kind of makes this whole thing sweeter because that means each moment is just that much more precious. obviously, he'd love to be spending quality time with you by going on dates in the park, taking you to a nice restaurant that's not too stuffy, or something even as simple as taking you to the movies. but those things are hard to do, so to him, any time spent with you without the presence of something trying to kill you can be turned into that precious quality time.

for him, it's about sitting on the couch with your legs strewn over him or his head on your lap or yours on his shoulder (really any sort of thing keeping him connected to you) as you pour over lore books. it's about the seamless exchange when the two of you figure out how to kill your monster or save the world together. it's about posing as fbi to get answers and slipping his hand into yours when no one's looking or grabbing a decent breakfast together before the start of a busy day. all he cares about, the things he treasures, are you falling asleep on him in the back of the impala because he gave up shotgun to sit next to you, taking months, maybe longer to get through one season of a tv show together, and always taking even just a small moment out of a busy day to be together.

⟢ complimenting him : it's true that he needs less assurance about his looks because he certainly is aware that he is fine as fuck. but let's definitely establish that he adores to hear praise about his looks specifically from you because duh! he's in love with you and you're the only one he cares about!!

but yeah, when you compliment his personality, his sweet, loving, courageous hot sometimes completely idiotic and frustrating self?? oh he's done for. he's honestly far less used to that. when you're half asleep, and you murmur into his chest that you think he's so smart, kind, funny, loving, and brave and that you couldn't be more proud to be his? he's complete mush in your arms, he can't believe it.

"that's all you, baby," he'll refute, and you'll certainly grow bashful under his compliment, but you want him to accept it, at least a little bit. "i mean it, sammy, i really do." your voice is all soft and sleepy, and oh so earnest that he can't help the aching of his heart. "i know you do," he'll whisper, suddenly emotional and not wanting you to hear it. "i'm just glad you think so. i'll always do my best to be those things for you," and that's the kind of thing he only admits when the sole light in the room comes from a dim, clouded over moon and your head is tucked under his chin so you can't see his face. he means it, of course, but he's not used to such vulnerability and blatant adoration.

he'll clench his jaw when you tell him you know that, but that it's true that he's all those things and more for so many people, the few close ones, and all the ones he passes by and does his best to save. he doesn't fully believe you, he's got a lot of guilt built up in that sweet mind of his. and it's true he's not perfect, but you never said that. all you're trying to tell him is that you love who he is, so much, and he can never thank you enough for that.

bonus, he really really loves when you tell him you think he's funny. it's definitely an ego booster, plus he loves loves loves to know that he can always make you smile and laugh.

⟢ your personal heater : this is literally sooo true. he's so big with so much body mass that he'd have so much body heat to give off. but i so agree that on top of that, he'd also totally be on the warmer side. if you're naturally warm as well, then you two are an unstoppable force in the winter time (the both of you are lulled to sleep by the other's body heat in a matter of minutes). either way, he'll always envelope you in hugs when it gets cold because he knows it'll warm you up right away. he doesn't have to ask to know when you're cold, because you'll always press yourself to him, maybe grabbing his arm and pulling it around yourself before even saying a thing to him.

"you cold?" he'll ask sweetly, and after feeling your nod and hearing your muffled "mhmm," he's quick to wrap his other arm around you too and pull you closer.

for the folks with cold hands like me, he's always trying to warm them up with his own. whether you've slipped your hand in to his just to be near and they're particularly chilly, or he can see you trying to warm your hands up yourself, he's quick to take up both of your hands in his to warm them up. when he grabs up both of your hands, he'll pull them to his chest and hold them there until he's satisfied they're warm. he'll look into your eyes and talk about something completely unrelated, all casual as if he's not making you flustered. other times, he'll warm up one hand at a time, encasing it in both of his own, rubbing it and blowing warm air on it before gently slipping it into his warm, warm pockets and moving on to the other.

also, if he finds out your face is cold, he'll cup your cheeks with his large, furnace hands or full on just pull your face into his head or neck to warm you up that way.

but yeah😭😭 summer can be a lot less pleasant. if you manage to have cold hands even in the summer (i could never i wish), he'll try to steal the coolness from your hands and you'll be like oh my god please stop i'll die LOL.

and you're like nooo babe of course i want to sleep with you, you just have to stay as far away as possible and never touch me because it might burn me to death. if he's tired and touch-starved younger sam will pout at you and tell you he just wants to cuddle. later seasons sam just won't take no for an answer and will just pull you to him until he gets too hot himself lmao. he'll make sure there's a fan on you first and a glass of ice water on your bedside. basically he loves that he's warm in the winter because it brings you closer to him, then gets pissed about it in the summer because you don't want him too close unless there's sufficient a/c or some other form of ventilation to make it cooler lol.

[sarahscribbles]

I humbly submit the following request for The Black Suit™️ drabbles:

Crawling onto Loki’s lap (hello, thighs) and using that infuriatingly taunting tie as leverage while you ride him.

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟖𝐤

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐊, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ;)

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Unsurprisingly, you hear the familiar smooth drawl of Loki’s voice before you’ve fully crossed the threshold of Tony’s study. 

“My, my, darling, I can feel the frustration rolling off you from here. Has something happened?” he asks innocently, not lifting his eyes from whatever book he’s got splayed across those firm thighs. 

For a second - only a second - any lingering annoyance that it’s taken you forty five minutes to find this menace that is the love of your life is forgotten. 

Loki is reclined back against the soft brown leather of the sofa with an almost empty glass of scotch held loosely in his hand. He’s still wearing that damn black suit, only now the jacket lies discarded over an ottoman and he’s rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. 

Even in the dim half light cast by the array of lamps, you can still see the veins protruding along his forearms. 

It’s nothing short of decadent filth, tasteful indecency, and it’s all for you. 

You cross your arms over your chest, fighting valiantly to stay composed given the sight before you. “What’s happened is that my boyfriend is a tease!” you reply, trying desperately to mask your arousal with irritation. 

There’s a soft thump as Loki snaps the book in his lap shut, followed by another as he tosses it carelessly to the other side of the sofa. “Oh? How dreadful. You have my sympathies, of course.”

He sets his glass to the side with a quiet clink of glass on mahogany and turns those devastating eyes back to you. They’re alive and dancing with mischief and unspoken debauchery, and when he spreads his thighs just that little bit wider, you feel any lingering resolve crumble to dust at your feet. 

“Perhaps you’d like to come over here and talk about it?” he offers with a sly grin. 

You roll your eyes with affectionate exasperation. “Menace.” 

Slipping your shoes off along the way, you pad across Tony’s expensive bear skin rug to take your seat on Loki’s lap, but two firm hands on your hips prevent you from doing so. 

“No,” Loki says simply and twirls you around easily so you’re facing him. He nudges one thigh between your legs and looks up at you, still wearing that wolfish smile. “Now sit.” 

Molten heat blossoms like a spring flower beneath your cheeks and stirs to life like a storm between your thighs. Such is the bewitching power of your lover that three simple words are enough to unravel you like a spool of thread.

Ignoring the steady, rhythmic thump of Tony’s sound system and the distant chatter of a hundred conversations taking place at once, you seat yourself obediently on Loki’s thigh. Through the skimpy lace of your underwear you can feel the material that covers his firm muscles; it’s soft and expensive and would likely feel heavenly as you…

“Darling, if you wish to relieve your frustrations, you only need ask.” Loki’s smooth voice breaks through the pink haze of your arousal at the same time his hands curl around your hips. 

You hadn’t realised how you’d been rocking them against his thigh. 

“Loki, come on!” you huff, locking your own hands around his wrists. “This isn’t fair!”

“Isn’t it?” He teases, smirking at you while pressing his thigh more snugly against your aching cunt. “I’m giving you exactly what you want. All you have to do is ask, dove.” 

He’s maddening when he’s like this. He knows there’s little to nothing you’ll deny him, even if it’s asking permission to ride his thigh. 

For a silent moment you do nothing but hold his gaze, but when he rocks his thigh against you once more, you feel the last of your resolve crumble to dust at your feet. 

Damn this menace!

Mischief glitters like stars in those pretty green eyes. You know that he loves moments like this, loves hearing you beg for his body. It would be easy to dismiss it as nothing more than an ego boost, but you’ve known him for long enough to know it’s just as much a search for reassurance that you love him and will only ever crave him. 

As if there has ever been any competition. 

You peer at him through your lashes with feigned demureness, running your hands along his thigh for added effect. “Please can I ride your thigh, Loki?” you ask softly, feeling his fingers twitch around your hip as you do.

“You may,” he replies, but his hands remain locked infuriatingly around your hips. “On one condition,” he adds, smirking even wider when you groan. 

“Come, now, darling, what did you expect?” he teases, lifting one hand from your hip to tweak a nipple through the thin material of your dress. You breathe out a curse and watch the familiar green shimmer of his seidr dance in the palm of his hand. 

You know it means mischief - as it so often does - but you can’t help but be struck dumb watching his magic at work. It’s soft yet powerful, beautiful yet dangerous. 

It’s Loki. 

“The condition is that you wear this,” he says, and holds up a deep black ring gag. “I’d rather enjoy seeing how messy you can get for me.” 

Searing arousal burns through your veins, so much so that you can’t stop the shiver that shakes your spine. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, in more positions than you can count, yet he never fails to find some new way to make you ache for him. 

“Con…condition accepted,” you tell him, already feeling the hoarseness creep into your voice. 

“Wonderful,” Loki answers. 

He works the gag into your mouth until it’s comfortably behind your teeth and fastens the strap behind your head. Almost instantly, you feel drool begin to collect on your bottom lip. Loki collects it on the pad of his thumb to smear it around your open lips, saying nothing as he admires you. 

“Mmm, darling, I already know what I’ll be using this gag for next,” he purrs, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You remember your safe word when you can’t speak?” 

Quickly, you raise your hand to snap your fingers. 

“Good girl,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I’m all yours, my love.” 

As you begin to grind on his thigh, you feel a familiar gentle warmth tingle between your thighs, and suddenly the soft material of his dress trousers is blissfully against your bare cunt. He raises his hand and you see your underwear dangling from his fingertips. The grin he gives you is wolfish as he then pushes them into his pocket. 

“ ‘uck!” you groan out, feeling your eyes roll in your head as you grind furiously against his thigh. 

The friction against your cunt is divine to the point that you briefly forget about the gag holding your mouth open. Until you suddenly become very aware of the drool dripping off your chin and down your neck. 

“Oh.” You look quickly to Loki without slowing down. “ ‘i ess.” 

“It is too beautiful to be ruined, darling, I agree,” Loki taunts and reaches for the thin straps at your shoulders. Easily, he pushes them off until the top half of your dress falls to pool below your stomach, leaving your breasts fully exposed to him.

“There we go,” he then says, and the mischievous glint in his eyes dares you to complain. 

“ ‘uck ake!” you say through laughter, but it melts to a moan when his fingers begin to tease your nipples. 

They twist and taunt, flick and squeeze, and his teasing touch almost sends you into orbit. You bear down on his thigh, chasing your release with renewed force when Loki collects a fingertip of escaped drool to smear it over your nipples. 

“Good girl,” he praises you, gripping your chin again to force your eyes on his. “Keep those lovely eyes on me, dove. I want to see every second of you falling apart.”

There’s a roughness beginning to lace his own words and it only fuels the flames licking furiously at your core. To know that this man desires you so deeply and so fully. You could get off on that fact alone. 

As the first tiny waves of your release begin to ripple through you, you reach for Loki’s tie, gripping it like a vice to help propel you towards the edge. You hear his sharp intake of breath, hear the deep, guttural curse that tumbles from his lips, and feel his fingers dig into your hips so hard you know they’ll leave a bruise. 

You know you must look a mess - panting and grooming with your dress pooled on Loki’s lap, all while your own saliva trickles down your chest - but each curse and praise that falls like spring rain from his lips assures you that he’s enjoying every second of it. 

To you, that’s all that ever matters. 

With each roll of your hips over Loki’s firm thigh, the coil in your stomach twists tighter and tighter. Your climax is building within you like a storm, each rocky wave of pleasure washing down on you with purpose as you grip Loki’s tie like a life raft. 

His cheeks are stained pink from watching you, and there’s a new, almost feral, light in his eyes. It’s you that’s exciting him, and it’s you he’s all too likely thinking of ravishing. It’s that alone that sends you right to the edge. 

“ ‘ease, ‘oki! ‘uck! ‘ease!” you beg him, knowing there’s no chance you can fight off the pleasure that’s bubbling to a crescendo inside you. 

“Yes, darling.” He answers immediately, gripping your hips with renewed strength to guide you through your release. “You have my permission. Be a good girl and cum for me.” 

It’s blinding. It’s a release so earth shattering that stars dance at the edge of your vision and tiny bells ring out a melody in your ears. Loki’s hands never leave your hips as you howl his name as best you can. You thank him, you curse and moan, you chant his name like a prayer until your orgasm fades to nothing but a pleasant tingle between your thighs.

And then you fall forward onto Loki’s chest, exhausted.

Those familiar strong arms quickly wrap around you and deft fingers undo the gag. With care, he eases it from between your lips, swiftly running his finger along your jaw to ease the ache and to clean you up. 

“Beautiful, my darling,” he murmurs softly into your hair as you rest against his shoulder. “I’m so very proud of you.” 

You feel his lips against the crown of your head and nuzzle further into his neck. His arms are heavy and comforting across your back, and the silk of his shirt is soft and cool beneath your cheek. It would be all too easy to fall over to sleep and Loki seems to be in no rush to break the spell. 

“Love you,” you say quietly against his neck.

He squeezes you in reply. “As I love you. I wouldn’t sleep for too long, dove. The night is still young, afterall.”

He doesn’t see the excited smile that crosses your lips.

[livlovesskz]

Holding his hand 💙

Pairings: You x Han Jisung

Warnings: none, FLUFFFFFF

Summary: You're holding Han's hand while he gets a back tattoo <3

Author's note: Y'all this is screaming Han's HOP solo ( HOLD MY HAND <3333 ). Ik this was on my voting and the Hyunjin one got more but I wanted to do this for the lower percent anyways ❤️

" That giant ass- I don't even know what it is.. On your back? " You'd ask, confused why he'd even want that. You were more of an innocent girl. You still didn't know nothing about drugs, sex, alcohol, that sorta stuff. But you swore a lot ( God knows why tbh 🤷 ). You still wore bear hoods, you loved your fluffy threaded crochet animals and you were so proud of doing them all by yourself.. But Han loved that.. Good girl with a guy who does cvnty moves on stage and smokes a lot? Perfect.

" It's a phoenix comin' outta fire, babydoll. " He'd reply. " Looks sick. " He'd add. But.. You already have a tattoo.. " you'd reply, referring to the one on his forearm with your name on it. " Yeah, but I wanna do this.. " He said, trying to convince you. You sighed. " I mean, I can't really stop you.. " You'd say, defeated.. " Right. Get in the car. " He'd say, grabbing his keys, phone, wallet- whatever he needed and shoving them into his pocket. " Wait.. Why do I have to come? " You'd tilt your head in slight confusion. " Uhh.. " Han suddenly got a little flustered. " To like- I dunno.. hold my hand..? " He'd whisper uncertainly. " Valid. Reason- Let's gooo!! " You'd say, getting into the passenger seat while Han got the car started.

He drove over and parked his car before going in. He grabbed your hand as a few looked at your cute style.. Your were his and only his. No one else could look at you the way he did.

" Jisung-ah!! How's it going mate? " The man at the till said in a cheerful tone. " Aye, not too bad.. " he replied. " You're down for Hwang-Ho? " The man asked to be sure. " Yep. As usual? Is he ready? " Han asked. " Yeah, he'll be out in a few. " The man replied. Then a man came out with red dyed hair and many tattoos on his arms and a gold chain. " Ay, Han, how's it goin' bro? " He'd ask, patting him on the shoulder. " Aye, alright.. " Han would reply. " And this is? " Hwang-Ho would ask, gesturing to you. " My girl, Y/n. " Han would reply, a proud grin on his face. " Nice. Hwang-Ho. " The man would say, bringing out his hand for a shake. You'd shake his hand, then saying on purpose. " The only reason I came with him was because he wants me to hold his hand.. " you'd say, trying not to giggle. Hwang-Ho would burst out laughing. " Gettin' soft mate? " He'd ask Han teasingly as he looked into Han's eyes with a playful glint. " S-shut up.. " Han would reply, looking away to hide his flushed face. " Best get to it then? " Hwang-Ho would ask. Han sighed " Might as well. "

You two were lead into a room where there was the needle and the chair. " Any preference? " Hwang-Ho asked. Han showed him the phoenix that was coming out of a flood of flames. " Where? " Hwang-Ho would ask as he looked at the Pinterest board Han just showed him. " My back. Full print. " Han replied smugly. The chair was reclined so it was kinda like a bed. Han would take off his shirt, revealing his toned abs. You'd never get enough of those. He'd lay stomach down and you'd sit next to him and the sketch was done out on his body.

Then the second the needle hit his skin, he hissed slightly, putting his face in the chair. You held his hand comfortingly the whole time and you were patient with him.

After a while, when it was cleaned up, topped up and bandaged, when you two were driving home, he'd look over to you. " Hey, love..? Thanks for holding my hand for so long.. "