#I like his sleeves.. his clothing is the softest of course!

[detonatethegemapples]

"You're all so kind, I'm truly thankful for everything!"

I feel like it's been a while since I've drawn his normal form gijinka.. so here he is! What a trustworthy individual (￣▽￣)

I'm still unsure if I want to give him glasses.. I feel like he looks good in them though, they might stay!

Glasses/no glasses alts (❁´◡`❁)

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓷𝓸𝔀

The limits of the adoration of Coriolanus Snow knew no bounds.

Every second he got, he was lavishing you with gifts. The dresses, the jewelry, the shoes...if it was pretty, he insisted you have it.

You hadn't grown up poor by any means, but you'd never been able to literally have whatever you wanted. It took a lot of getting used to, and even now you still weren't. He was just so excited to give you things.

He gave you credit cards by the dozen, practically shoving them into your hands. "Go get something pretty to wear for me, sweetheart."

He had money in bucketloads, something you were a little wary of, but you didn't ask any questions. It'd only cause tension, and besides, it didn't seem to be going anywhere.

Coriolanus would hear you come home with shopping bags in hand and leave his office, coming to you with his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. "Good trip darling?" he'd ask, taking you in his arms and kissing you on the cheek.

"Uh huh," you'd smile, and he'd tweak your nose a bit, petting your soft hair.

"Show me what you got, sweetheart," he'd say, taking you by the hand and carrying a few of your bags for you.

You would model the pretty dresses for him and he'd sit back against the headboard of the bed, telling you to spin so he could see the whole thing. You'd save the lingerie and nightdresses for last every time, knowing how that would end.

With his tongue in your mouth and his hands sliding under the waistline of your panties.

Since Coriolanus had grown up so poor all the while portraying the image of old money, he relished in being able to have it all now. He took you out to expensive restaurants and made sure you wanted for absolutely nothing. He'd been able to buy you a beautiful wedding ring, and the ceremony itself was lavish, beyond anything the likes of the Capitol had seen before.

You were the brightest thing in his life, his sweetheart, his love. You had a hold on him and you didn't even know it, one that kept him grounded and kind. The absolute least he could do was make sure you had everything. The nicest clothes. The right invitations. The softest sheets. The best protection.

And not only did he spoil you with things, but he gave you attention to the highest degree.

Every night there were soft kisses all over your pretty body, pressed in the creases and lines of you that he had memorized. His hands wandered you aimlessly, only wanting to feel you under his fingers. During these special times, shrouded in darkness, his entire being was devoted to you, to making sure you felt good.

If he was spending the day at home, he would summon you into his office to keep him company, letting you read near him (in his lap, of course).

Coriolanus thought you the sun and moon. You were the only person whose pleasure he cared for besides himself. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe.

You found this to be true one night when you'd come home in tears, your dress torn, your face stained with your makeup that had been so perfect at the beginning of the evening.

Of course he'd noticed immediately, gathering you into his arms and smoothing your hair, pressing kisses to your face to try and calm you down. "Sweetheart...oh sweetheart, what happened?"

You were hysterical, clinging to him as you tried to slow your breathing down. "I was...wa-walking alone...an...and someone came up behind me...'n grabbed me...and..." the rest of the story was lost to your tears.

Coriolanus was seething, holding you tight to him. He swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, lying you down and starting to undress you. You whimpered and he shushed you gently, keeping one arm around you the whole time. "Shh, just getting you more comfortable pretty. I'm here. I'm right here with you."

He got you into your nightdress, getting into bed with you and pulling the blanket over you. You laid your head against his chest as he stroked your hair, soothing you into sleep.

Keeping one arm around you, he reached for the phone beside the bed, picking it up and dialing a certain number. He kept his voice down so you'd stay asleep, all the while keeping you against his chest, holding your head there.

"...never happen again. Do what you must," he concluded quietly, putting the phone back in its receiver. Looking down at you, he felt a fond little smile come over him, and he ran his fingers through your hair again, his wedding ring getting caught in the strands slightly.

He would do anything to protect you. If it meant having people taken care of to keep you safe and sound, he'd do it over and over again.

You were a treasure, the one pure thing in his fabricated politician's life. And he would guard you like gold. Spoil you in pretty things and in safety.

There was not a single thing on earth he wouldn't do for you.

come talk about coryo here!

[sailorshadzter]

just some modern jonsa :))))

He finds it endearing, the way she leaves little traces of herself across his apartment

Like a spare hair tie he finds on his bathroom sink or a glass of water on his bedside table, a red lipstick stain on its rim. There's a sweatshirt of hers mixed in with his latest load of laundry and her favorite coffee creamer in his fridge. Her scent perfumes his sheets and his clothes, sweet and floral when he breathes in, even on the nights she sleeps away from him.

And those nights aren't that often, not anymore that is.

Across the room she sits from him now, tucked into the corner of the couch, a blanket spread over her lap, Ghost’s head on her feet. He can’t help but to smile at the sight- his two favorite beings in this world go together like they were always meant to be. Sometimes he thinks the two of them like the other far more than they like him. Somehow, that’s totally okay with him. 

“You’re staring.” Her voice breaks in and he blinks back to reality, blue eyes meeting gray. 

“I was only wondering what you might want to do tonight,” he says as he sneaks around the counter he stands behind, sliding into place on the couch, Ghost sandwiched between them. “It is Saturday.” He reminds her and she laughs, soft and slow, putting a hand to the wolf dog’s head. 

They had met several months ago, out at a club- he’d been dragged there by his friend, Sam, who was trying to hook up with the woman bartending the event. She, on the other hand, was best friends with the girl hosting the event. Two drinks in and he’d seen her at the bar, with her waist long red hair and mini black dress. Those two drinks had given him the courage to walk up and stand beside her, ordering himself a third, before offering a hello and can I buy you a drink? He could never forget that night, his first time seeing her, like an angel come down from heaven… Far too beautiful to be real, to be of this mortal world. But she’d laughed and said yes, telling the bartender she wanted just what he had ordered for himself. Turned out they shared a favorite drink- and a whole lot of other favorites, too. 

What’s your name, he had asked as she took him by the hand to the dance floor, sashaying the way only a woman could. Sansa, she had whispered in his ear as they danced on the crowded floor, one arm outstretched over his shoulder, her hips unbearably close as the music bumped in time with her every movement. 

She didn’t go home with him that night, but with him he’d taken her number and remnants of her red lipstick on his face. The very next morning, hungover as he was, he’d reached for his phone, wondering if it was tacky to text her so soon. 

Tacky or not, he had texted her, and now seven months later, she was as good as living with him. 

“I thought we might order in,” she says, looking not at him but down at the dog she’s petting, grinning in a way she only does with Ghost. “Chinese take out and cheap wine kind of night, you know?” She’s still smiling when she looks up at him, the sleeve of her oversized top slipping over her shoulder. A chuckle escapes him and he’s nodding, reaching for the pamphlets that litter his coffee table, options for the two of them to choose from. 

When dinner is ordered, from their favorite little spot on the corner from his apartment, he’s rising up to tug on his jacket, waving away her protests. “Stay, I’ll go and get it,” he insists, grinning as she sinks back down to the couch, Ghost now wagging his tail at his feet, thinking he might get the chance to go for a walk. Sure enough, Jon reaches for his leash, securing it into place before he grabs his wallet and keys. “Rose, right?” He asks over his shoulder as he turns to go, watching a smile spread over her face as she nods. Of course he knew. 

Just as he reaches for the door knob, he pauses, turning back to fully face her there on the couch, red hair falling in the softest of waves. “I love you,” he says simply, the truth, the words he’s held onto all these months they’ve spent together. All the days and the nights, the minutes and the hours, he’s fallen head over heels in love with her. Loved her in a way he never thought possible. The smile that graces her face is one unlike any he’s seen before, but she tilts her head, red hair cascading over her shoulder, blue eyes damp but bright. 

“I love you, too,” she says, her heart skipping a beat in her chest.

He’s gone then, ducking out the door to get their dinner and cheap wine, just so he might come home and spend the night with the girl he loved. 

It would be perfect.

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Hi! I love the Touchstarved headcanons you made! Do you have any ideas for being with Leander? Fluff (and maybe a little dash of angst regarding MC's hands or the dangers associated with it) please! He has just completely stolen my heart and I love him already <3 Happy writing!

Hi!! I literally squeaked when I got this! You've made me so excited, I've been itching for Touchstarved requests and yours is the first! Eeee!!!

I'm so happy with how this turned out!! I might make one for the other four, too, even without requests...

Fandom: Touchstarved Characters: Leander Warnings: Spoilers below the blue text! Very fluffy, mildly angsty...

Dating Leander Headcannons:

He is literally. The softest. You will not meet anyone sweeter to you than he is.

He blushes alllll the time! It's adorable, frankly. The slightest touch or compliment just makes him all 😳

He'll literally do anything for you. Those things he offered you when you met, the bed, food, clothes, whatever? Yeah that was just the beginning. Don't even joke about wanting things around him unless you actually want them, because if it's physically possible, he will find a way to get it for you. My man is devoted.

He does magic for you all the time. He'll greet you every morning with a flourish and a magical flower, tucking it behind your ear and giving you a kiss on the lips or forehead as it dissolves. One time he was in the middle of something important and forgot. He remembered only after you'd left, and he literally stopped what he was doing and chased you down because he can't miss his morning ritual!!

Also he literally just does random magic tricks to cheer you up whenever you're not happy. Sad, disappointed, sick, mad -- whatever, he's gonna find a way to make you smile if he possibly can.

He wears his heart on his sleeve with you most of the time, and is outwardly pretty affectionate. You're his person and he's not afraid to make sure everyone in Eridia knows it. As a bonus, not many people will dare mess with you.

Mild spoilers below! Nothin' major, just things from the demo

He makes sure you have the respect of the Bloodhounds. You end up as practically their second-in-command, after a while. They all take care of you, too, because they respect him and they know you're important to him.

So the thing with the curse. He promises you that he'll do everything in his power to find a way to break your curse, and he does. But, of course, that takes time, and meanwhile, you're still living with it. So, Leander does everything he can to make you feel normal. You deserve it, in his opinion. He doesn't want you to have to live in fear anymore.

When you're alone together, he'll encourage you to take off the bandages and just... be yourself. Live life like a normal person, not a cursed person.

He encourages you to touch him, to touch objects, to feel anything and everything you want with your touchstarved hands. They've been deprived of sensation for so long, and in some ways you're like a curious child, trying to grab everything within reach just for the experience. He laughs the first time you touch something metal, jerking your hand back with a gasp because cold! Don't be too upset with him for laughing, though. He finds it adorable.

He has a morning ritual, but he has a nighttime ritual, too, regardless of whether or not you two sleep in the same room/bed. He'll sit you down and unwind the bandages from around your hands, and softly kiss them both, and then gently massage some magically-enhanced lotion into your hands and wrists. They've been neglected for years, because other than seeking relief when they ache, you've done everything you can to hide and ignore your hands - but not anymore. He showers them (and you) in affection, and encourages you to sleep with the bandages off. Yes, even if you're sleeping with him. Especially if you're sleeping with him.

Play with his hair. It looks like it would feel nice and soft, and with your hands... yessss. It's like touching a cloud, almost. You've never felt anything so soft in your life.

On the... less upbeat side of things, though. He's very serious about your curse. He makes sure all of the Bloodhounds know not to mess with your hands, ever. He probably tells them you have a condition of some sort, or that your hands were badly burned in an accident of some variety (probably magic if you're the alchemist, maybe some sort of cooking mishap if not) and they're very sensitive. He is very clear about this. No one is to touch them, even bandaged, and they are not to ever try to remove the bandages or tease you about them. This leads to the Bloodhounds having a tendency to grab you by the elbow or arm, which is sweeter than it should be.

Also, this means that he's the only one who gets to hold your hand :) Because he really really likes holding your hand :) and he's the tiniest bit possessive over them because they're so special and sensitive :)

Should anything happen, if someone somehow got touched... he would defend you. Doesn't matter who it was or how it happened, he's on your side, and he's not letting you be punished without going through him first.

He definitely gets you a pair of gloves, if you want them. Something soft on the inside but durable. Maybe he even enchants them for you, if such a thing is possible, makes it so that the gloves are impossible to remove except by him or you, so you won't have to worry about accidents.

Anyway back to the fluff to end this on a high note

Imagine cuddling up with him at night, tracing your bare fingers across his chest and face, pressing your palm flat against his chest to feel his heartbeat. Just. Being able to quietly satisfy your desire for physical contact without fear or judgement.

Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝

[just-another-star-47]

Taking care of a friend

A pissed Leander and a caring Garreth. Just a little snippet because the more I write about them, the more I like them and their dynamic. It's probably the softest in my entire story, to be honest. 😅

-> More about them and other characters <-

Without saying a word, Leander dropped into the armchair opposite Garreth and slumped down. An abrasion ran up his right cheek to his temple, his clothes smelled scorched and his hands were shaking.

'Sebastian?' Garreth glanced over the edge of the latest issue of the  'Potion Master' and met Leander's narrowed eyes.

"Sebastian, of course. That dog sears me every time with his stupid Confringo."

'Oh, Amalia wouldn't be happy about that choice of words,' Garreth put the magazine aside and rummaged in the pocket of his waistcoat, while Leander mumbled unintelligibly and shifted in his armchair. When his friend pulled a small  vial, containing a light green liquid, out of his pocket, his eyes widened in astonishment.

'When did you brew this?'

'Right after you told me the date on which the members of the "Crossed Wands" would meet again.'

'So you assumed that I would lose again, did you?' Leander sulked, leaning back and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

'Even winners suffer injuries,' Garreth tried to reassure him with a sigh.

'Not Sallow.'

Leander stared almost hostilely at the vial of healing essence Garreth patiently held out to him.

"I can't take this. Otherwise the others will make fun of the fact that I can't stand pain."

With another sigh, his friend put the potion back in his pocket and pulled a small bag onto his lap instead.

'You really don't think it's possible for me to come back without injury, I see,' Leander slid closer despite his disapproving words, 'but I'll beat Sallow eventually, I guarantee it!'

Garreth did not reply, focussing instead on treating the graze of the still sulking man.

Ever since the first duel between the Gryffindor and Slytherin student, in which the former had suffered a nasty laceration and burns, Garreth had made it his business to keep the doctor's bag well stocked. Even then, his  childhood friend had refused to be healed with magic of any kind. Whether he wanted to prove something to himself or to Sebastian remained unclear.

When Leander began to talk at length about the duel and his approach, Garreth only kept humming in confirmation as he dabbed dirt and blood from the pale skin and carefully applied an ointment. He had long since realised that Leander was by no means bad. The repeated questions from Lucan about training together were proof enough. And yet he knew that his friend would vehemently disagree with his view until he had defeated Sebastian Sallow.

'It's not that I wasn't able to block the spell,' Leander continued to huff as Garreth mended the sleeve of his shirt, 'I just think that even in a duel there should be a trace of chivalry.'

Garreth couldn't help but grin. Perhaps he shouldn't have encouraged his friend to read adventure novels with him back when their were children.

'Done'; he placed the arm with the now mended fabric in Leander's lap and leaned comfortably back  to listen to the last details of the report.

The 'Potion Master' could wait.

[sunoooism]

› summary : how txt celebrate your birthday ! (separately)

› fluff / wc: 908

› warnings : birthday fluff, non sexual nudity, crying, 'feminine' compliment (pretty), pet names, gn!reader.

⊹

choi yeonjun

→ spoiling you rotten !

your day had already been filled with delicious food, amazing places, an array of gifts and of course more yummy food — all courtesy of your much too generous boyfriend — but when you returned home with him to discover a very romantic evening plan plus more gifts you almost burst out into tears.

yeonjun cradled your face in his hands and kissed your wobbly lips as you stared at the gorgeous rose petals and wine laid across your shared bed. "don't cry, sweetheart" he said in-between kisses that were now being peppered across your face. he was enjoying your reaction and current situation far too much. "but Junnie how can I not? you've spoiled me all day and now I find out you've still got more up your sleeve? you're too good to me" looking at the stack of perfectly wrapped gifts on your bedside table was enough to make sure the tears spilled over your lash line and down your cheeks. you sniffled and curled further into yeonjun's embrace, letting him rock you back and forth rhythmically to try and cease your tears.

"you deserve it all and more, my love"

choi soobin

→ baking whatever you want !

Soobin had to admit that his best skill wasn't baking, it wasn't even one of his skills. but if that's what you wanted to do he certainly wasn't going to tell you no, especially on your birthday of all days. so he toughed it out, only expressing the need to help when it came to the mixing of ingredients.

"can we add whipped cream on top of the cupcakes? please?" you asked once they were successfully in the oven and cooking. despite it being a strange request for most to hear, including soobin, he nodded enthusiastically. "of course, pretty! they're your cupcakes you can do whatever you'd like to them" you smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. of course he'd say that. Soobin had never made you uncomfortable or upset a day in your life, and with how it's going you doubt he ever will. "but I want you to eat them too, bunny"

"I'll eat anything you make"

choi beomgyu

→ arcade date !

when you'd first suggested the idea of an arcade date to your boyfriend instead of a big party for your birthday he'd nearly flipped. but when you noticed his hesitance and called him out for it in the form of 'being afraid to lose' he just had to prove you wrong and win every single game for you. it wasn't going very well though. granted, he had won a couple that left you with a shocked face and arms filled with plushies but he was struggling now, and that was enough to entertain you when you got bored of whatever game you were trying to conquer.

"you can do it, beomie!" was what you said moments before the dreaded 'game over' sign flashed across his screen. he groaned and fought the urge to kick it, instead taking it out on one of your newly beloved stuffies. "hey! don't hurt gyu junior!" he paused, stared at the plushie and then you. you couldn't help but giggle when he said, "you named it after me?" In the softest voice you've ever heard from him.

you were already infatuated with the man long before this instance, but the way he was gazing at you with those puppy eyes just made you fall deeper into the pit of love.

kang taehyun

→ fancy dinner and dessert !

spending the day with taehyun in your home with an abundance of snacks and movies would have been a more than enough birthday celebration. but of course he couldn't let that happen. so you were now dressed up in your best clothes with a gorgeous hairstyle that taehyun himself had insisted upon doing and sat in a back booth of an extremely fancy and expensive restaurant.

"tae, thank you for doing this for me." you spoke once the polite waitress had left with a note of your drinks and food dishes. he had always made you feel so special no matter what the two of you were doing, and this evening was no different. taehyun smiled and lifted your hand so he could press a loving kiss to your knuckles, returning it to you and doing the same with the other which made you giggle and your heart race. he made falling in love with him so easy and pleasurable.

"of course, honey. it's my pleasure"

huening kai

→ self care day !

your boyfriend had practically ordered you to take a day for yourself after spending yesterday with your family, and although you's stated yesterday technically was a day for yourself he wouldn't hear it. you just had to thank him for that.

your ever caring boyfriend had already left you to sleep in late, made you a much needed brunch and gave you a massage to relieve any stress your family had put on you with their unhinged comments. and now he was pulling you to lay back against him in your sweet smelling bath that he had run you.

the lights were dimmed and the bathtub was surrounded by your favourite scented candles. your choice of music was playing faintly in the background and in that moment you swore it couldn't get any better than this, your back was pressed against Kai's bare chest while his arms wrapped around your waist as he littered your shoulders with chaste and innocent kisses. "I love you, Ning"

"I can assure you that I love you more"

©sunoooism

[ccaptain]

@daybreakrising: The box is waiting for him when he wakes up, sat on the end of the bed adorned with an almost comically large bow made of cobalt ribbon. Wriothesley is nowhere to be seen, but there are sounds of tea being made and breakfast being cooked coming from the direction of the kitchen.

There's a note atop the box, written in the Duke's surprisingly elegant handwriting (he's gone to extra effort to make it nice), that instructs Kaeya to open it.

Inside the box, nestled in a bed of blue silk fabric, is a very familiar coat - only, not quite. In place of rich red lining, red accents, there is deep blue; in place of thick black fur there is a blend of cream and white. The clasp at one shoulder is not a wolf's head but a peacock, the chains that dangle from it acting like the feathers of its tail. It is perfectly tailored to Kaeya's build, of course.

There's a second note that sits atop the fabric that protects it, this one signed by the Duke himself.

'Mon coeur, just a little something to keep you warm when my arms cannot reach you. And if it smells familiar, well, I slept beside it for a week. I know you'll find comfort in that. Wear this and remember that I love you, always. Your wolf x'

   kaeya awakens to the lovely scent of sizzling bacon filling the house.

   it rips a pleased, dreamy sigh out of him as he slowly crawls out of the fumes of sleep- task made difficult by the warmth of the soft blankets, and the scent of wriothesley clinging to the pillow. it'd be a pleasing morning to spend in bed, weren't the smells coming from the kitchen delicious and tempting. purely following his nose and the vision of his boyfriend, the soft sheets are regrettabily pulled off him as he sits up, cross-legged, scrambling for a shirt-

   and that's when he sees the box. 

   how did he missed it, even when laying down? the cobalt bow tying it together is humongous, prompting him to giggle as he pushes himself forward to paw and grab at it. once it's safely between his legs, an hand roams under his pillow to extract a dagger from under it, doing his best to not ruin the bow as he cuts the sides of it.

   the note catches his attention, making him take his time reading it with a soft smile on his face. the mental image of wrio sleeping next to whatever is in the box makes him snicker so soft, so gentle, tender at the mental image; if he says wear, for sure it'll be a piece of clothing- perhaps a scarf, perhaps a shirt...? he needs to see. excitement gets the best of him when there's an heart pounding in flushed ears, opening a longed-for present-

   his heart almost stops cold in his chest. 

   in a triumph of dark cobalt, soft, creamy fur and blue linings have him do a double take, suck in a breath as he lifts the cloth off the fabric-

   it's a coat.

   not just a simple coat- there are many times where kaeya took the much larger one off his man to drape it over his shoulders instead- many times he drew it over bare skin, over his shirt, over his own cape, simply to enjoy the body warmth clinging to his shoulders and the pleasing scent of his boyfriend staying on him for a while.

   there's so much of wriothesley in this present- and there's so much of kaeya himself into it too, from the different clasp to the little peacock tail dangling from it. his hands are almost fearful to turn it over, in case the entire thing breaks in pieces- or disappears in the fumes of the dream he's sure he must be having. fingertips glide over the edge of a sleeve...

   gently, almost reverently, the luckiest man in the world scoops the coat in his arms, and lowers his face into the cream-white fur, allowing himself the little pleasure of cuddling his cheek against it. the dark fabric is so soft- it's the softest material in the world, silk-like in his arms. 

   it smells like wrio, comforting and a reminder of his presence. it smells like home, like the pleasing mornings with them tangled together in the sheets, of the warmth of their bodies cuddling together.

   kaeya doesn't realize he's crying until he tries to take in a breath, and instead comes the fantest of sobs.

   it's such a thoughtful gift- it's a gift that will make them match, that will tell everyone the tale of how the duke has claimed him as his partner, providing a shield over his back. there won't be a soul that know them both and won't connect the dots, won't see the care put into the fine clothing that sends a message- 

   wriothesley has gifted him the world, something to wear when he's amiss that'll hold him almost like the real man. and the longer he sobs into the fur lining, the more it feels to him like a worthy tribute: happy tears for an happy present, for the best present in the world.

   ( he thinks that all the pain he has been feeling has been worth it- as things slowly adjust in his life, he's allowed this moment of happiness. he's allowed this moment of happiness and many more- many good mornings while he'll slip the coat on, and enjoy the sensation of soft fabric holding him. )

   and if a crying kaeya bolts out of bed, coat still against his chest, and crashes into the back of a cooking wriothesley, babbling an endless stream of thank-yous, well...

   he's sure his boyfriend will understand and forgive him for the interruption.

[safetycar-restart]

thinking about pampering a downtrodden, tearful sub!charles after a particularly unfortunate race: his domme pulling out all the aces up her sleeve.

a back, shoulder and leg massage so his tensions dissipate.

drying all tears with kisses. and he cries a lot, so it needs lots of love and head pats.

putting him in oversized, comfy clothes that give him sweater paws.

talking it through so he won't worry and spiral.

praising lots as he deserves and needs.

calling him every pet name under the sun. sweet kitten, cutie, pup.

a careful session of comfort vanilla deepthroat, sensual, 0% aggressive. a deep release.

cooking pasta, baking chocolate cake, everything that cheers him up.

writing encouragements into his IG comments.

riding him to sleep. sex takes off both of your minds from losing motivation and lifts the mood. you'd rather cum on his pretty cock all night than have a racing mind that leads to nothing: you both feel ten times better from relief.

gorgeous ribbon bondage to unwind.

plenty of aftercare.

checking if he's hydrated and has his plush bunny to hug in his sleep. and, of course, you, his big spoon.

most importantly, making him laugh by acting VERY silly.

naturally, charles reciprocates — buying the love of his life new ferrari sweaters, doing the groceries for her, fixing her a pizza, rubbing her clit before she sleeps: and making amends by figuring out the mistakes, winning the next race eventually. which results in an even more passionate sex marathon, you're both so happy.

- george's long legs anon returning with the gentle femdom 👕

Oh god I love this so much. All of this is incredible. I'm gonna talk a little bit about pretty much all of this because I love all of these thoughts so so much. Also oops this is very long.

After a while, you end up with a whole list of things that you could do to help Charles. Maybe you even keep a list on your phone of all the possible options? because you want to make 100% sure that you don't forget anything that could help your sweet boy.

As we've said before, Charles honestly gets pretty upset pretty quickly with you. He's able to remain strong around others, but he sees you as his safe space? He's allowed to be as whiney and needy and sensitive as he wants to be with his domme. He's safe with you.

But luckily, it's not difficult at all to get him to feel better. Which is why you keep a list of the best ways to make him feel better, so that you can pull out the list and check what will be best for the situation.

But sometimes Charles is much more upset, and then it's no easy task to get your sweet boy feeling good again. Then you have to pull out all the stops, and you have no problem doing so. Charles deserves all the love in the world.

Of course he's gonna cry a lot, and he'll probably be crying quite a bit throughout the entire process. From the start to the end, tears will randomly just roll down his cheeks. You don't react to it, because that will make Charles even more upset. Instead, you just wipe his kisses away and then give him some kisses and head pats. The head pats are VERY important.

A massage is such a good way to go as well, not only because it relaxes him but because it involves LOTS of skin on skin. He really just wants to feel close to you, to have as much skin against you as possible. So when you give him a massage, you almost always sit on him. You try to sit besides him, but he refuses. You must sit ON him, like just straight up straddle his back or thighs.

And then of course you must pick what clothes he changes into. He doesn't want to make ANY decisions. You always choose the softest clothes for him, usually at least a little oversized (also, sometimes if you don't choose then Charles will purposefully choose uncomfy clothes because he doesn't think he 'deserves' comfort).

You praise him the entire time of course, calling him every pet name imagine. Sometimes you'll call him silly pet names? Your number one goal is to make him smile, so calling him 'cupcake', 'pumpkin', 'flower', etc. just any cute pet name that's a little odd always makes him smile.

Sometimes sex happens then. If the massage hasn't made him plaint and soft, then you'll ride him. You don't edge him or tease him, because you don't want him to think he's being punished. If he was in a normal, safe, headspace then he would love to be teased and edged, but when he's upset like he is now, he can misunderstand easily and think that you're punishing him.

So no edging. But you will make him cum at least twice, riding his cock until he's crying out and gripping you, tears of pleasure running down his cheeks.

If he wasn't plaint and calm before, then he definitely is now.

Then it's time for something fun!!

Usually that's cooking. Charles is a mess cooking on his own, but with you? With you he has so much fun!!!! He's always a giggly mess by the end, letting you hand feed him whatever you've made together.

Usually by then he's ready for bed, finally feeling safe and calm and loved. This is the only time you'll ask him to make a decision, because it's something you don't want to get wrong.

He can choose if he wants to be tied or just to cuddle.

Sometimes he's ready for cuddles and sleep, other times he wants the added comfort and security of laying in rope for a while first. If he chooses the rope, then it's always soft and sweet. You let him suckle on a dildo as you tie him, stroking his cheeks every now and then. He always ends up deepthroating the dildo by the time you finish with the tie, and then he just lays there, happily sucking the dildo and waiting for you to decide he's had enough rope time.

And then finally, bed time!!!

Of course this involves his bunny plushie. He used to be scared to admit that he wants the plushie to sleep sometimes, and if you had asked him if he wanted the plushie at the start of the night, he would have said no. But now that he's feeling calm and safe, he'll admit that he wants it.

So he's the small spoon, hugging his plushie close and you're the big spoon, holding him nice and tight.

And of course when he's feeling better, he'll thank you for helping in his own way. To him, winning a race is a thank you. While you're proud of course, you always remind him that he doesn't have to do that to thank you, that you'll always help him even if he never wins again.

That statement always makes him cry.

[ihaztea1]

Hi Tea! Don't know if you recognize me but I just want to say that I love your fic so very much and it's such a treat to read Theseus healing and his bond with Techno, and now, Phil and Wilbur too!

I would love to hear more headcanons about Theseus and his relationship to the villagers, and the village overall, if you have the time of course hehe

Hey galaghiel! How could I not recognize one of my repeat commenters? Glad to hear you're still enjoying my little fic. I have a great time writing the brotherhood and healing in TWAMNT and am really looking forward to exploring the changed dynamic between Theseus, Phil, and Wilbur! Those two were the ones he looked up to the most and then... Well. DSMP cannon happened.

A young Techno was one thing; Theseus really only had memories of his young adult self. A young Wilbur... He's gonna need a bit to sort himself out.

Okay, while I'm sure you don't mind that ramble, you didn't ask for SBI relationship dynamics. You asked for Theseus and Villager headcannons.

---

The Spinner: Theseus is low key terrified of this woman. She heard one (1) word about him embroidering and piled his basket full of some of the prettiest, softest, embroidery thread he'd ever seen along with a whole pack of needles and several sizes of hoop. And then all she asks for is some *dye*? And extra wool? And she *asks him to come back*? With a smile? What kind of crazy is she? (She's not, actually. She thinks he's an adorable sweetheart that should be encouraged to pursue his non-violent hobbies. Clearly, this young man has had it rough but Prime is he cute, clueless, and loyal. Did you see the way he kept that adorable piglin hybrid half hidden behind him? Precious.)

The Engineer: If their shop didn't remind him so viscerally of Tubbo and Sam, Theseus would be their best friend. As it is, they won't let him live down the fact Techno hollered at him to 'sit. Stay.' And called him a shoat. Funniest thing they've heard all year. They have plans to drop in randomly just to hear the blonde one screech. Techno is in on it. They have tea together on Thursdays to swap gossip and plan pranks. Somehow, no-one suspects the redstone engineer to be behind the village wide pranks? Like... How? It's kinda obvious. Theseus, despite enjoying their company, doesn't even try to hide that he's terrified of the engineer. (This just makes them want to visit him more. They find his lack of subtly refreshing.)

The Tailor: With a supply if cloth thanks to the Spinner, Theseus is now entering a rivalry with the Tailor. Theseus might be rusty when it comes to making clothes, but his needlework is still on point. Embellished sleeves? No problem. Detailed pockets? Please~! Meanwhile, what can the tailor do? Make sturdy clothes that keep you safe from local weather and stand up to the rigors of farming... But also work with some of the most delicate of fabrics that Theseus is scared his scars and callouses would catch on and tear. It's a good natured rivalry, filled with teasing smiles and quick laughter.

The Cobbler: This woman is in leauge with Techno to get Theseus to wear boots. Sure, she'll make the madman his knock-off converse but she'll give him a STARE as she hands over the third pair, slowly tilting her head down to examine the dirty, torn, *melted* state of his last pair. That wouldn't happen with a good pair of boots. Ever think of that, Converse Boy? Ever think there was a reason boots remained a part of everyday fashion? It's because they protect your feet and are built to last! Don't act like I can't see you limping! You hurt your feet wearing these things on a hunt, didn't you?! Yeah yeah, see you next month. And bring one of those carrot cakes!

The Carpenter: Both Theseus and Techno love this man. They call him Uncle Carter. He's basically Uncle Iroh but without the military career and with added wood shavings. He also provides the tea for Techno and the Engineer. He's their alibi for when Theseus asks where Techno's been. (He's not fooled. Theseus knows what's up, he's just glad Techno has friends in the village.) This man also Does Not Hesitate to hand out life advice or listen to the brothers rant about their problems. He's a real dad, but neither brother wants to claim that so he'll be content as their uncle.

The Farmer: Theseus isn't sure where he stands with this skittish guy, but their emerald trade goes just fine and he hasn't expressed anti-hybrid sentiment since that first time so... He gets a pass. And okay, *maybe* he feels a little guilty for apparently giving the dude nightmares but like... Say what you want about Theseus, just don't insult his precious people. (The Farmer is still high key terrified of the local Adventurer - why wouldn't he be? Dude clearly got the Warrior Call often - but even he can see there's something almost fragile there. A hurt he's been carrying for a while. If he gets the chance, he's gonna be a friend to the scary blonde.)

The Grannies: They adopted the Kraken Brothers. Caramel candies, homemade fudge, scalloped potatoes, chicken noodle soup, apple pies, lasagna... They never let the boys leave without some kind of treat. Theseus even got access to one of their treasured cookbooks! He loves them. They are so sweet. But sometimes? Sometimes they *scare him.* He is a firm believer that you have not known fear until you have an annoyed and dissapointed Granny staring you in the eye. The one time he had That Look turned on him it replaced the prison in his nightmares for a month!

In general, the village likes having Theseus near by. Sure he's an Adventurer that knows the Call to Battle, but oddly enough that actually makes them feel safer the longer he lingers. After all, what's a band of Pillagers or a horde of mindless mobs to a Warrior Adventurer with a little brother to protect? And if they can build a friendly relationship with this kind if scared young man... Why wouldn't he extend that protection to them as well? It really helps that Theseus is a living ray of sunshine.

[rosenallies]

Fluff 20 "Can I wear your sweater? It smells like you, I can't promise to give it back though." with the rosenali au of your choosing

Alternate breakup au bc depression <3333

——

“Are you ready?” Rosé called from the living room, keys in hand ready to drive Denali to his first therapy appointment after being discharged from the hospital.

“Coming,” Denali replied, coming down the hallway with his hands behind his back, anxiety emanating from him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, what is it?”

Denali removed his hands from behind his back, one of Rosé’s softest and most oversized sweater in his arms. “Can I wear your sweater? It smells like you and I think it would help me feel more comfortable at my appointment.”

Rosé smiled softly. “Of course you can, you don’t even need to ask.”

“Are you sure? I can’t promise to give it back.”

“Nali,” Rosé said with a chuckle, “I’d literally give you the clothes off my back if you asked.”

Denali blushed, comfort washing over him as he pulled the sweater over his t-shirt, pulling the sleeves over his hands.

“You look so cute in my clothes, are you ready to go?”

Taking a deep breath, Denali nodded, reaching for Rosé’s hand. “I’m ready.”

They walked hand in hand out to the car, Rosé helping Denali into the car, kissing him gently before closing the door and heading to the driver’s side. “Do you want to listen to the radio?”

Denali shook his head, reaching for Rosé’s hand again, nerves making his own shake. “No, I just want to relax before if that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay, I’m proud of you, you know?”

“What’s to be proud of? The fact I need to see a whole team of doctors just so I don’t-“

He didn’t finish his thought, he didn’t need to, they both knew what he meant.

“I’m always proud of you, no matter what. Getting help when you need it definitely is something to be proud of, even if you don’t think so.”

“I guess, I just hope it goes well.”

Rosé hummed, lifting Denali’s hand to his lips to kiss gently. “No matter what I’ll be there every step of the way.”

[messers-moony]

Home | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five goes through everything with his best friend, and when they return with the announcement of their marriage his siblings are appalled. 

Request: “I can request a FiveXreader where the reader is loving, sweet and naive, Five's best friend but the reader has no powers (You can invent a way how they became best friends and they are in love with each other, cliché but I love) One day the reader was sitting in front of the Umbrella Academy and saw Five leave in a hurry (The scene that he will travel in time) In this the reader does not abandon Five and decides to travel in time with him, they end up trapped in the apocalylipse, can you make them stay together?  (Like married I don't know) And also the scene where they go back to 2019? Sorry, if this so bored”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. After a failed mission, he and his siblings decided to sneak out. Klaus had spotted a park on the way home, and that’s where they went. For the first time in years, they felt like kids again. They were all ten years old and had never experienced a playground before. Allison had never laughed as much, and Diego seemed to finally forget his insecurities while swinging from monkey bars. 

Even on occasion, Luther would help Ben cross the monkey bars. Vanya was finally included, and Klaus had never seemed so carefree in his life. But Five had his eyes on someone else. She sat at one of the navy blue tables, quite a ways away from the playground, watching the siblings with a soft smile on her face. A notebook was in front of her while she twirled a pencil in her hand. 

Curiosity killed the cat. Five was too intrigued not to sit with her. So despite this probably being the only time he could experience a playground, he sat in front of her, obscuring her vision from his other six siblings. Her eyes met green ones; they looked evergreen in the dark of the night. His hair almost looked black, but she knew it had to be dark brown. 

“Good evening.” Her voice, it sounded like heaven to him, “Evening.”

It felt awkward, and the silence could’ve been cut with a knife, “My names Y/n.”

“Five.”

“Five? That’s unique.” Y/n complimented, and his cheeks flushed, “Thanks….” 

Her vision went back to the other kids, “You’d think they’ve never seen a playground before.”

“They haven’t.” Five stated, looking at his siblings, “Our father is strict, so we snook out to come here.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as rude-“

“You didn’t.” Five smiled, looking at her e/c eyes. 

Since then, Five would sneak out a lot more. His power was a fantastic tool. When he and his siblings began to sneak out more, Five always invited her. Klaus, Diego, and Vanya seemed taken with her. Y/n was always so kind and sweet. Her laugh radiated, and it made everyone around her smile. It was like she was Aphrodite, and he was Ares. 

After becoming friends with the academy kids, Y/n had a habit of sitting outside the academy. She usually sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her notebook on her lap, pencil in hand. Five couldn’t remember a time when her hand wasn’t covered in graphite or ink from drawing. He adored it, though, because it was so her. It made him stare at his black pens, aimlessly smiling, knowing that she probably had the same color ink on her hand. 

Becoming friends with Five meant knowing his ambition. Five Hargreeves was driven by his goals and wanted to do them regardless of the consequence. So Y/n knew about his dream to time travel despite his father's wishes. On a gloomy day, Y/n sat on the sidewalk. The only thing drawing her from her daydream was the slam of a gate. 

“Five!”

He didn’t turn, “Five!”

Y/n grabbed his arm, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m- I’m going to time travel.” Five stated with that daze in his eyes, “And you need to stay here.”

“No! I’m not letting you go alone!” Y/n exclaimed incredulously, “Y/n, please.” Five pleaded. 

She shook her head, “Absolutely not. Either we go together, or we stay here together.”

“Fine.” Five reluctantly agreed, holding out his hand for her. 

Hesitantly Y/n slid her fingers through his. They were intertwining their hands together. Five was so focused on time-traveling correctly that he didn’t notice the pink flush on his best friend's face. But he did it, once and twice—finally a third time. Smoke clouded the area, and fire could be seen for miles. 

Y/n dropped his hand and covered her mouth. Five circled in his spot in shock. He felt nauseous and queasy. He couldn’t believe that he let this happen. He shouldn’t have pushed himself. They were stuck. Fucking hell, they were stuck, and he couldn’t do anything. Y/n ran back to the academy, and Five followed her. The h/c haired girl stared at what used to be the Umbrella Academy. Now in ruins. Five dropped to his knees, tears collecting in his eyes. 

“It’s- it’s gone….” 

Y/n hugged him tightly, “It’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna be-“ 

Five didn’t get to finish his sentence. He pushed her away and threw up to the side. When he finished, Y/n took her jacket sleeve and wiped it around his mouth—gently combing his hair from his face. Y/n had never seen Five look so drained. Seeing her in front of him, taking care of him made him break. Five broke into sobs holding onto her like a lifeline. Y/n rubbed his back and held him just as tightly. 

“I’m here, Five. I’ll keep you safe.”

Being thirteen in an apocalypse seems like a death sentence, but when you grow up the way Five did, it’s more bearable. The first few months were awful. Searching for shelter, food, clothes. It was downright hell, but they made it through. On cold nights Five would hold her close to his chest, and on hot nights Y/n would always manage to get him cold water. 

Years passed, and their friendship turned into a relationship. They needed each other to survive, and they just needed each other. Five couldn’t be more grateful that she insisted on coming. He couldn’t imagine doing this alone. But now, he had his girlfriend leaning her head on his shoulder while watching the fire. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, leaving occasional kisses on her temple. 

“I couldn’t imagine this world without you.” Five confessed, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Y/n challenged. 

He smirked, “Oh, really?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head, smartass.” Y/n snorted, “Too late, it’s already there, my love.” Five retorted. 

She kissed his cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too, darling.” 

Five years later. They were twenty-five, and he wanted to make it official. It was a rather cold day wherever they were, and Five was holding her closer than ever. Y/n was shivering on the old mattress they had found. She was constantly snuggling closer to Five’s chest. They laid facing each other, and Y/n’s head was tucked under his chin. Five’s hand ran through her long hair - after being unable to cut it - soothing her nerves. 

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“I want you - Y/n - to marry me.” Five repeated, looking down at her.

Her teeth chattered, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s anyone else to choose from.”

Y/n glared playfully, and Five chuckled, “Asshole.”

“So, what do you say? Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“I say that if my fiancé doesn’t stop being an asshole, then I won't marry him.” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I love you too, pretty girl.” Five replied, smiling softly. 

He kissed her forehead and allowed her to muzzle closer into him. Gently he pulled the two plain rings he found. They were battered, of course, and the gold was dirty, but that didn’t matter. Five slipped the ring on her finger and his. Y/n placed a gentle kiss on his lips that he gladly returned. Sweet, soft, passionate, and full of love. A description of how she was. 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Five replied, “Now get some sleep.” 

Y/n was about to fall asleep when she heard Five mutter one last thing, “Y/n Hargreeves.”

29 years. 348 months. 1512 weeks. 10,585 days. Until a woman showed up in their shelter, offering them both a job. Five could remember pushing Y/n behind him defensively. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt in any interaction he had. The woman offered them a way home. Five turned to his wife, and she saw it. For the first time in forty-five years, she saw it. Hope. 

Y/n took Five’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. The softest smile crossed his features before agreeing with the woman’s offer where both of them became assassins—partners in crime. Nothing turned Five on more than seeing his wife fend for herself, and god, was she good at it. Y/n was so naive and innocent when she was ten. But now? At the age of fifty-six, she wasn’t that girl anymore. 

But when they reached the age of fifty-eight, Five finally found out the correct equation. They were at their last mission, make sure John F. Kennedy gets shot and everything goes to plan, but Five had different ideas. Taking Vanya’s book from his suitcase, he looked over the equations one last time. They were going back; Five would go home today. 

“Y/n.”

“Yes, love?”

Five sighed, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To go home.” 

Y/n’s smile was blissful; Five could’ve fainted on the spot, “Home?! Like- Like-“

“Home.” Five answered to his overjoyed wife. 

Y/n kissed him more passionately than ever. Five could feel her gratefulness in her kiss. His hands placed themselves on her waist, and hers were around his neck. God Five never wanted to forget this feeling. The feeling of his wife in his arms, kissing him as she would never get enough. When they pulled apart, Five opened the portal. Gripping her hand, they jumped through and landed on the leaf-filled ground in the icy rain. 

“Does anyone else see Little Number Five and Little Y/n, or is that just me?“ Klaus asked, not trusting his eyes; maybe it was an illusion from the drugs. 

Five and Y/n stood up. The first thing Y/n noticed was the ring on her finger was too big now. But Five looked down at the suit he had been wearing previously. The blazer now reached his knees instead of his waist, and Y/n’s shirt was hanging off one of her shoulders. Five and Y/n looked at each other. They were thirteen all over again. 

“Shit.” 

He grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her into the academy. Y/n had only been in the academy a handful of times before, and she usually was only allowed in Five’s room because she wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. His siblings followed aimlessly and took their spots at the table. 

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five inquired, grabbing different things around the kitchen. 

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Y/n took place beside him as Five began making a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich. The same snack he used to love as a kid. Y/n could remember him trying to eat it back at their apartment the commission provided them but complained it was too sweet. It seems that being in his teenage body again made him crave the sweetness of the snack. 

“So, are we gonna talk about just what happened?” Luther questioned, but no one answered, “It’s been 17 years.”

Five scoffed, “It’s been a lot longer than that.”

The same big spatial jumped behind Luther as he began to take marshmallows from the cabinet, “I haven’t missed that.” Luther murmured. 

“Where’d you two go?” Diego asked. 

“The future.” Y/n answered politely, “It’s shit, by the way.” Five added spatial jumping beside her again and gently kissing her cheek. 

The siblings stared in shock at Five’s sudden act of affection; Five could feel their eyes on him, “What?”

“You just kissed her.” Allison stated, “And?”

Allison didn’t say anything, “Is it a crime for me to kiss my wife or something?” Five asked agitatedly. 

“Wife?!”

“Yes, wife.” Five sighed. 

“Called it!” Klaus exclaimed. 

“I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing.” Five began as he looked through the fridge, “Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” 

He came back with peanut butter in his hand at the front of the table, his wife beside him; he took in the appearance of his siblings, “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus smiled. 

“Wait, how did you two get back?” Vanya questioned. 

“In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time.” 

Diego couldn’t wrap his head around it, “That makes no sense.”

Five went to remark, but Y/n cut him off, “It doesn’t have to. All that matters is that we’re back.”

“How long were you two there?” Luther queried, “Forty-Five years. Give or take.”

Everyone looked at the two teens in disbelief, “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“Well, not exactly. Our consciences are 58, but it appears that our bodies are back to 13.” Y/n answered. 

“Wait, how does that even work?”

“It seems that Five might’ve gotten the equations wrong.” Y/n replied, and Five glared at her, “I’m not mad! I’m just happy we’re home. Appearance be damned.”

Five took notice of the newspaper in front of Y/n, “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you even know about that?” Luther inquired, “What part of the future do you not understand?” Five retorted. 

“Heart failure?” Y/n asked, “Yeah/No.” Luther and Diego contradicted. 

Five clicked his tongue, “Nice to see nothings changed.”

The teenage boy began to walk away, “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison questioned.

“What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life.”

Vanya was the first to get up and hug Y/n, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Vanny. Me too.”

[gretavanheatabove]

smokin’ sammy

just dumping a fic i never posted here! i wrote it sometime this past winter so it does not scream a summery vibe, but def a cozy vibe, hope u like it!

18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!!!

pairing: sam x fem reader 

word count: ~4,000

summary: a one-shot in which fem reader and sam get high and get busy ;)

Sammy shuts the passenger door behind him and grins over at you, lifting your purse from the floor and holding it in his lap. “Can we crank the heat, please? My buns are freezing!” You smile back, nod, and adjust the knobs on the dashboard. Sammy reaches over your head to the sleeve of CD’s on the visor and pulls one out, inspecting it thoroughly. Maybe it’s just the heat kicking in, but your face feels flushed, and you hope your music taste is up to his standards. He sees you eyeing him and suddenly becomes mock-serious. 

“Hmm….” He mumbles, turning the disc over in his hands but careful not to touch the reflective surface. “I suppose this will do.” He shoots a wink at you and puts the disc in the drive. A mellow romantic song begins playing, one that always reminds you of summer. Right now, it’s just above freezing and there’s snow sticking to the ground. This time of year, the sun sets so early that 6 pm feels like midnight. You pull out of the lot and begin the drive back home. 

After a minute or so of contemplative listening to set the mood, you bring up your plans for the evening. “So, Sam, I picked up something for us to share tonight. I just missed you so much today, I figured we can waste a little time together? It’s in my bag there.” While cigarettes aren’t exactly your thing, you and Sam share plenty of other smokable substances. And, god, he looks so good smoking. It must be a combination of drawing attention to his lips, exhaling thick clouds, and the way his eyebrows gather in focus. Truly something to behold. 

Right now, though, his eyebrows are raised and his mouth is open with that sweet smile, revealing his top row of teeth. “You did? I love you!” His hand found the back of your scalp and he began massaging it as you drove. Sam seems to really like receiving gifts, not because he likes “stuff”, but because he likes to know you were thinking of him and thought he would like something. You often bring him pretty rocks, a fun shirt, or some kind of small-batch beer he hasn’t tried before. He just lights up. But his favorite kinds of gifts, of course, are ones he can share with you. 

“Wanna smoke when we get home?” You question, already knowing the answer to follow.

“Yes, please!” 

You pull in the driveway shortly after, and the music stops when you remove your keys from the ignition. “Wait, it was in the middle of that song! Can we finish the song at least?” Sam must have been more interested in the CD he picked than you thought. His hand leaves your hair and lands on your knee, keeping you in the car with him. He gives you the biggest and softest puppy eyes he can muster and says, “I’m feeling soft and romantic. Let’s listen to it.” Your heart melts on the spot, and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. It never gets old, the sweet things he says and does to you. 

You turn the car key two clicks, letting the battery power the radio. The car is still toasty, just the way Sammy likes it. “Baby, why don’t we smoke your surprise out here and keep listening? Then we can go in and put our comfy clothes on, have some hot cocoa?” He nodded enthusiastically at your suggestion. “Perfect.” He passes you your purse, never one to dig through without explicit permission and direction. You thank him and reveal a fragrant joint, expertly rolled. Putting it to your lips, you begin digging in your bag for a lighter, getting increasingly frustrated that one would not appear. 

Sam opens the sunglasses compartment above and pulls out a blue Bic lighter, and another two joints fall out with it. You both laugh, though his is closer to a giggle, and he puts them back, turning to you and lighting the twirled tip of the paper for you. He looks at your eyes as you stare down, waiting to get to the green as the paper burns. When you realize he’s studying your face, you lock eyes for a couple seconds, sharing a soft gaze. You finally reach the green and pass the joint to him, and he gracefully accepts it between his long, calloused fingers. 

He faces forward again, still taking in the music as he inhales deeply. Now it’s you who’s studying his profile. You love the way his nose swoops, the way his eyes squint and lips pucker. He exhales a faint cloud and the scent fully engulfs your noses. A cough that erupts from his chest, another big smile illuminating his lips and eyes. “Jeez louise!” He bursts into laughter and passes the j back to you, a few more coughs slipping out. His laughter is contagious and it takes a second to compose yourself before hitting it again. 

The smoke makes its way down your lungs, the sweet flavor mixing with the smokiness of the burning paper. Your mind drifts to focus on the music playing, the soundtrack to your session. It’s soft, sweet, and heartfelt. Looking over at Sammy, you see he’s leaning back in his seat, reclined comfortably. You meet eyes again and smile under his gaze. Everything is feeling alright. You’re both relaxed, content, and very much in love with each other. And, after a few minutes, baked like a cake. You go silent, spacing out and enjoying the moment. Whenever you check back in, Sam’s giggling to himself about something. He makes himself laugh more than anyone else, but you’re a close second. Sweet boy.

The smoke stops, but you non-verbally agree to sit and finish the last two songs. After sharing a few sips of water, you lean in to Sam and he closes the gap with his lips. They were soft and warm, pushing up into yours. His mouth tastes like smoke, but at least it’s a much sweeter smoke than usual. He sets his right hand on your upper thigh and his left hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer. You give in and move as close as you can, center console preventing things from getting too heavy. You stick to slow kisses, just enjoying the sensation of touch. You lace your fingers in his hair, too, trying to lessen the height gap between you two. Chills dance across your skin. 

As the final song ends, a comfortable silence rings out in its place. The next time you separate for air, you take a longer pause, forehead to forehead and eyes fluttering closed. You can feel Sammy’s breath shift as he starts to smile again, and the silence is ended. “Let’s go inside. I wanna get cozy with you.” Until he spoke, and your eyes opened, you didn’t notice that the air became frosty and your fingertips were chilly. You nod and gather your bag and keys, and the two of you quickly slip in through the front door.

Once safe inside, you both drop your coats and shoes. Sam sneaks his arm around your waist and nearly drags you to the bedroom. You turn on a bedside lamp and hear Sam call out, “Jammy time!” He digs through his bottom drawer, pulling out a pajama set with a paisley pattern and a button-up top. He yanks his socks off like they’d been hurting him all day and changes into his set. You grab fluffy socks, one of Sam’s t-shirts, and a very oversized hoodie. He’s already plopped on the bed when you finish, lying flat on his chest like a starfish. You climb to sit over his waist, pushing your fingers across his scalp. He groans, loving the sensation. “Baby, please do my neck after. So sore.” He mumbles. 

You smile at his request and make your way down to his neck. He releases a deep sigh through his nose, melting at your touch. You love helping him relax after a long day of practicing. You wish you could be at every rehearsal, but you end up being the opposite of helpful most nights. Seeing you makes Sam want to finish up and come home, so you try to stay out of their way. Occasionally, though, you come by with dinner or beers to cheer the boys up. 

“Want me do your back, buttercup?” You ask, putting pressure between his shoulder blades. Sam nods and props himself on his arms, awkwardly trying to undo the buttons of his top. You help him and shimmy the sleeves down his arms, leaving his back exposed before he plops back down. His smooth skin is decorated with little freckles and moles like the stars. You lean down and press a soft kiss to his shoulder before continuing to massage him. Though his eyes have closed and his face is smooshed into the mattress, evidence of a smile peeks through the corners of his eyes and his brows are slightly raised.

After a couple minutes, you leave a few more slow, soft kisses across his skin, something you like to do as a way to display your affection. You sigh and lay your face on his warm skin, leaving five quick kisses in the same spot over his spine. He giggles and mumbles into the blanket, “Hey, that tickles, ya rascal!” He reaches up and playfully swats at your arm, then he gently runs his fingers up and down it. 

“Sorry, Charlie.” You climb off and roll next to him and he opens up to face you. He sighs and smiles, reaching over to boop your nose, and you realize how red his eyes are. You nose-laugh and move in to kiss him. First it’s soft and tender, but becomes more passionate. His hands find the back of your neck and pull you in, and you press your hands to his bare chest. You kiss long and hard, breathing heavily. You wrap a leg around his waist and your bodies are flush, but you wish you could be closer still. His hand slides down your back and finds the bottom of your oversized hoodie, reaching under to cup your ass and pull you in against him. 

He speaks breathlessly through messy kisses, “Baby, let me taste you. Taste so sweet, I miss you.” You nod and finally pull away, sitting up to slide your panties down your legs. Once they’ve met the rest of the laundry in the pile, Sam pushes you onto your back and sits on his knees, then using a hand he separates yours. He licks his bottom lip and pulls it into his mouth, staring for a brief moment before his eyes flick back up to yours. He places his hands on your waist. His thumbs rest over your hip bones, tracing small circles with light pressure. He leans down and you feel him softly exhale before his lips meet the wet heat between your legs. Your eyes shut and you’re reminded how high you still are. Sam licks with perfect pressure that makes you see stars. 

He finds the perfect spot that makes you moan a drawn out “Uuuhhhhh,” and you latch onto his hair with a fist. “Baby, baby, baby,” you mumble under your breath. He pays close attention to your swollen clit, pushing little circles against it. You let out a quiet “Fucking fuck,” as your shoulders lurch forward and feel him smile against your pussy. His grip on you tightens and his thumb presses into your hip, holding you down to the bed. You peek down at him and his eyes are still smiling as he works on you, crude wet noises fill the silence created by the snow falling outside. Sam would do nearly anything to draw moans and swears from you. You grow impatient wanting to touch him and call out, “My turn to give, Sammy.” He doesn’t give up, though, he just looks up at you with his eyebrows nearly touching. He gives a “mm-mm” before pulling away, the cold air clinging to your wetness in place of his mouth. You let out a quiet whimper at the loss of contact and sit up. 

Sammy gets up and finishes undressing, revealing his hard cock. The tip glistens with pre-cum, a mouth-watering invitation to your tongue. You scoot towards him and reach out a hand, but he steps to the side and climbs next to you on the bed. His lips hang open in concentration as he directs your limbs around him, laying you down on your side. He lays down in front of you, his head propped up by your waist and his feet at the head of the bed. You caught a glimpse of his filthy soles as he inches down more and pulled your legs around his head. Remind someone to clean that floor later, you think. He buries himself in your pussy, resuming his earlier pace, his arms around your ass and pulling you close. His cock now hangs in front of your face and your lips part. You wrap your arms around his waist and begin licking up the pre-cum. He hums into you and the vibrations only add to the incredible sensation of him between your legs. You lick up his length from the base up and slap your face with his cock a few times before taking the tip into your mouth with gentle suction. 

Sam continues his feast while enjoying how warm and welcoming  your mouth feels while he fills it up. You take him deeper and deeper, sucking harder now and bobbing your head. The sounds of slurping, smacking, and your quiet gagging filled your ears, only making you wetter and wetter. His cock hits the back of your throat a few times as you concentrate on breathing through your nose. It’s hard to focus with a foggy head and the two fingers Sam slips inside you. He begins curling them just so, forming a rhythm. Hitting the perfect spot, your moan is muffled by his cock in your throat. He continues pushing into your g spot as you lose your focus and pull off him. You try to keep up at least a slow pace stroking his cock, but it doesn’t last. 

Your moans grow louder and louder and your eyes screw shut as you try to focus on the filthy sound of your soaking pussy being finger-fucked. “M-more baby, harder faster please please,” you beg, already feeling close to your orgasm. His focus leaves from his mouth as his fingers take the lead. You whimper and your leg twitches. You peek at Sam to see the delicious look on his face as he conducts his business. His mouth still hangs open, jaw tense, and strands of hair hang over his dark eyes. Your viewing is cut short by three pumps of his fingers tossing you over the edge. Your eyes clamp shut again, your body convulses, and you let out a strangled moan expressing just how well he’s done.  Your hands grab onto his leg and he keeps pumping while you ride the full length of your orgasm. It passes and leaves you breathing heavy for a minute or so. 

When you finally sit up, Sammy’s standing next to you drinking from a glass of water. You stare as his silhouette is backlit, his messy hair hanging down. He pushes it back into place just so as he gulps down a few more sips. You look him up and down and he appears relaxed, his breath even and his cock still hard. Your eyes catch here for a moment and he looks over at you, passing you the water. “Drink up, buddy. We’re not done yet.” He smiles at you with soft eyes watching you drink. He lays back on the bed the normal way, head in the pillows, taking himself into his hand and continuing without you until you’re ready. You watch his every movement in awe and swallow hard. “Climb aboard,” Sam instructs, patting his leg with his free hand. 

You follow his directions and drape a leg over him. You place your hands on his shoulders and his hands find their home on your waist again as you hover over him. You reach a hand down and stroke him a few times before sliding the tip of his cock through the folds of your pussy. You whine as you run it across your clit and slap it a few times leaving Sam groaning impatiently as he ached for you. “Alright, alright, you done teasing?” You smile playfully and briefly consider torturing him just for asking, but decide against it. His eyes look black as he gazes up at you, and you can’t resist anymore. 

“I am.” You spread your wetness down the length of his cock with your hand and sink down onto it, inch by inch. You hiss quietly as he stretches you and fills up your tight pussy oh-so perfectly. He moves a hand to the back of your neck, supporting it as your head falls back into his touch. You sigh, deeply and contently. Sam is a little less content and leans forward to decorate your exposed neck with soft, wet kisses. You come back to Earth and begin rocking back and forth on him, then shifting your knees a little better underneath you, you begin a bounce. He groans and closes his eyes, his free hand exploring your back and reading your skin. “Uh, shit,” you hear him mutter. His voice is hardly audible over the wet slapping of your skin against his balls. You switch up your angle a bit in search of the right spot and he starts fucking up into you. Your head falls forward towards his and he hits your g spot again. “Shit, Sammy baby, feel so fucking good,” you gasp. 

“Your pussy’s so tight and wet for me baby, love how you feel.” You whine at his words, and feel glad you got him going. You love dirty talking and getting each other worked up. 

Your hands find his face and you leave a few open-mouthed sloppy kisses on his mouth as you both collide in rhythm. “You fill me up so good, stretching me out, s-so big Sammy-” You’re cut off by your own pornographic moan. Your words must spurn Sam on in his quest to fuck you stupid, because he pulls you in close to his chest and starts slamming into you in a quick rhythm. He keeps this pace for a minute before letting you loose. 

“Come here.” He puts his hands under your ass where it meets your thighs and holds you over him, just the tip of his cock still inside you. You push all your weight into his hands before he pulls them away, leaving you crashing down onto him. You cry out at the sensation and he moans, his eyes closing tightly. His hair spreads over the pillow beneath him and he looks absolutely ethereal under you. His hands lift your ass back up and reset you to fall back onto his cock again. Each time you drop is as intoxicating as the last and each draws a sound from you both. After a short while Sam lifts you off of him and pulls you by your legs to lay down. He hovers over you, leaning down to for fleety kisses. “I love you, I love you,” he spoke through his kisses. Your hands grow needs as one intertwines with his hair and the other traces down his body. 

“I want more.” You wrap your legs around his waist and he lines himself up, and slides in slowly. “So perfect for me, you fill me just right.” He cups your face and finds his rhythm before kissing you again, more slowly but hard. Your teeth clash as he quickens his pace. He buries his head in your neck and you hear a heavenly moan escape his lips.

“Jesus christ, peanut, I’m gonna cum for you, okay?” You nod and lace his hair in your fingers again, this time holding a stronger grip to keep him muttering into your ear. “I’m gonna fill your little pussy with cum, baby, are you ready?”

You help him over the edge by dirty talking back. “Yes Sammy, please, I wanna feel your hot cum inside me, need it so bad, please please Sam!” You let loose several moans as his pace falters, he grunts, and slows down a bit. You feel the warmth inside you and you know he’s cum, hard. He stays in place above you and thrusts four more times before slowly sliding out. He stares down in wonder as his cum spills out of your pussy, and he catches some on his fingers. You open your mouth and put out your tongue so he can give you a taste. You suck his fingers clean with a pop and he kisses you once more. 

“You want another, love?” His fingers ghost over your clit and cause you to shiver, the stimulation being too much. You shake your head and smile lazily, eyes squinting up at him. “You sleepyhead, huh?” You nod and sit up, wincing at the soreness. Sam grins and helps you up. “Go clean up real quick, I’ve got the bed.” 

“Thank you, Sammy.” You scamper off to the bathroom, the air cooling down your bare skin. You wash up and brush your teeth, and head back to the bedroom to find Sam remaking the bed with clean throw blankets. He’s even refluffed the pillows. You come up behind him and he turns to face you, giving you a sleepy grin. He sits down and pats the bed.

“Come cuddles.” He scoots back into his side of the bed and crawls under the covers, opening them up for you to crawl in after him. You lay down and pull up the covers and he presses his chest to your back. He kisses you on the crown of your head and tangles his legs up in yours. 

Though both tired, it’s still a bit early to go to bed. You sit in a moment or two of silence before Sam says, “Do you ever think about how, the sun and the moon are different sizes, but from Earth they look about the same? Such a weird coincidence.” You broke out laughing at where his mind had wandered, as though his dick wasn’t still pressed against your bare ass. He’s half hard, but he usually is during snuggling. It can make it difficult to sleep sometimes, honestly. 

“I guess I never thought about it before. That is weird.” You settle back into his chest a bit more and wiggle your hips into place. He groans and nose-laughs, thinking you were trying for another round already.

“Settle down, girly. Just cuddle for a while.” He sighs and his breath tickles your hair.

“I know, I know, I’m settling. Promise.” You take a deep breath and catch Sam’s scent. Not the smell of his cruelty-free hair products or vegan hemp lotion, but his own personal scent that he leaves on his clothes, the sheets, your hair. “You smell so good. Did you happen to lock the door when we came in?”

He hums in thought and says, “No. Did you?”

You laugh. “No, I didn’t either. And we never had our cocoa!”

“Let’s get it later, I’m so cozy here right now. Just a nap and we’ll get up okay?” You nod and melt further into his warm skin, letting your sleepy haze quickly consume you. 

You awake in the dimly lit room a few hours later, the lamp still on in the corner. Sam’s leg was over your waist and he had a hand cupping your tit. He snores a low snore. You imagine it would be less cute if it started waking you up, but luckily it never did. You shimmy out of his gangly limbs to get up and he stays dead asleep. You pull Sam’s paisley PJ pants off the floor and slide them on for some extra warmth. With a click you turn the lamp off and slither back under the covers, this time with your face buried in his chest. How sweet is he? you think, taking deep breaths of his scent and drifting back to sleep. 

[cherryjuicegf]

What about ‘I love you but you’re not mine’ for geraskier?

thanks for the prompt anon!! hadn’t written ye olde geralt angst in a while, hope you enjoy ♡

wc 555

"i love you but you're not mine."

Jaskier's things are all pretty.

What is left perhaps of his noble upbringing but also one cannot blame a man for his fine tastes. Frivolous, perhaps, unnecessary expenses of every now and then, yet Geralt would lie if he said the brightness in Jaskier's eyes when he is indulged isn't worth it.

Silk shirts of the shiniest colours, embroidered on the collar and the buttonholes and the sleeves that end in intricately cut lace to embellish his nimble wrists as he gestures wildly along with the pretty words he speaks.

Colourful doublets of the softest fabrics and strangest patterns, brightening up his already bright face, and he moves with such grace inside them that Geralt has found himself staring with a trace of jealousy a couple of times, to content himself then with being able to savour Jaskier as he moves in the colours of a flower.

His fingers, then, embraced by ornate rings, gold and silver, carved or plain, all of them standing out as he strums ther strings of the lute, these or the fingers themselves, long and skilled, decorated with the jewels like little round medals.

His lute. A gift from the king of elves himself, unparalleled, its sound sweeter than bird song to match the melody of Jaskier's siren-like voice.

His words, his most treasured possessions, are the prettiest of them all. Spilling like little birds from his lips on the paper, on the stage, on captivated ears, and even Geralt after a while gets used to hearing him talk nonsense, only because he talks it so beautifully.

Pretty things, indeed. All of them.

Thus, Geralt does not hold much hope for himself. How could he, rough and raw as he is. Always flooding outside pretty clothes, pretty spaces, always overflown.

He would never press, of course, never grieve for something he wasn't meant to have in the first place and what they already have, the smiles and the hugs and the jokes and the endless days and nights, is more than enough already.

But there is this little part of him, even after all these years, that still wants. Still hopes.

Then, it's the time when they lie in bed together, and they make love, and maybe it is the first time or maybe the thirty second, but he doesn't actually care. Only then, in the aftermath, after they drink each others longing from every pore of their skin, after they kiss it away, Jaskier tangles his fingers through white hair and says, "I love you so much, but you are not mine." It's just a whisper and, as though to make up or to deny his own words, he holds him closer and kisses his hair.

And Geralt knows why, and wants to tell himself to have sense. Because it's not meant to be like this, and because maybe they will both avoid the heartbreak, and because Geralt will leave again, greedily falling in another hug waiting for him.

And because he is kind and loves Jaskier more than he ever thought he could love, Geralt agrees silently, and presses a kiss on the corner of the bard's lips, and the voice inside his head will laugh.

It hurts. But then again no matter how much sense he pulls into his heart, he knows he never held much hope for himself. He, after all, doesn't belong with pretty things.

He is far from pretty.

[mcjeanalds]

Yo I don't know if you're still doing requests but can you do some Marco Headcanons? I really don't mind what about. It can be sfw alphabet, morning Headcanons, post-argument Headcanons, etc. Thanks!

im always doing requests, ofc! i love marco, wish he didn't leave the show so soon :( since you don't have a preference, i'm just gonna do some marco relationship fluff, enjoy!!!

- he never really was into relationships, you're his first s/o ever, so congrats!

- he always starts a conversation about nothing just to talk to you

- like he'll just randomly say "tomorrow is supposed to be sunny but windy, should i wear long or short sleeves?"

"long, just in case it gets colder"

"alright, thanks... the weather's been getting nicer, right?"

"marco it's spring, of course it's getting nicer"

"right... what's your favorite season?"

- he's ALWAYS making sure you're comfortable, whether it be the temperature or your room, the clothes your wearing, if he has his arm wrapped around you, no matter what

- your comfort and feeling safe around him is his biggest priority

- he's extremely soft, gentle kisses and side hugs and always asking if you're okay

- he's literally a teddy bear. kinda clingy, not in public, but at home expect to never escape his arms

- he's very vulnerable with you, and just wants to be held as you listen to him talk

- oh and play with his hair

- he blushes SO easily

- new dress? this man is RED. got your hair done? blush central

- oh and don't me STARTED when this man sees you in some skimpy little outfit you have saved for him ;)

- definitely a homebody, so be ready for movie nights and baking together

- speaking of baking together, he loves it and always finds it adorable when you have flour on yourself

- sometimes he'll purposefully cover his hands in flour and grab your ass and kiss you... but then of course have his whole face and ears turn red

- he is the sweetest and softest boy, and he's such a gentleman. he'll make sure nothing gets in your way of living the happiest life possible

- and his happiest life possible? as long as you're there, he's more than happy <3

[plethora-of-imagines]

Could you do something with Alpha!Dh!Master x Omega!Reader? I loved the one you did with Delgado!Master and something with Dhawan!Master would be so cute. I don’t mind if it’s smutty or not, just feel free to do what you want!

Freezing at the creak of the door you begged the TARDIS to distract the Master. It would be miserable to get caught now! The teasing would be relentless, if he didn’t just berate you without thinking first. 

You had already stolen so many of his things, what was one more item?

The TARDIS decided to be merciful to you today and her gentle groans tempted the Master further away from the door. For a few precious moments you were distracted by his bare forearms. The dark dress shirt sleeves rolled up with care to show such sinful amounts of arm. You had to hold back the instinctual purr that threatened to pass your lips. Biting down on your lower lip, the pressure allowed you to pull your attention away from the Master. 

Not too far into the console room the Master has discarded his typical purple jacket. Sneaking glances back at the Master- still distracted by the TARDIS’s manipulations- you quietly rushed to steal the jacket from the armchair it had been discarded on. Rushing back out of the console room and down the hall with your prize, shoved the jacket into your face happily. Inhaling the wonderful smell of the Master.

Taking pity on your overwhelmed, and now wobbly body- the TARDIS moved the door to your room closer. Only a few more steps before you were safely in your room again.

Crawling into your bed you curled up content, the soft fabric of the jacket still pressed against your face. Consumed with the daydreams of pressing your face into the Master’s chest, you began to purr. Pulling the jacket away with reluctance you moved to put it on properly. Feeling as if the Master had his arms around you, your instincts receded enough for you to look around your makeshift nest to see what it was made out of.

Of course there were several blankets making a foot tall wall around your bed, somewhat smushed from your crawling into the bed. Scattered throughout the nest were dozens of the Master’s shirts, clean but still smelling like him faintly. Nervously you realized that you must have stolen all of these shirts from his room. Which meant that the moment he entered his room he would smell you, all omega and pre-heat. Worried. Your mind was worried beyond belief that he would be upset with you for stealing and taking the liberty to assume that he would allow his scent to be added to your nest. It was a subtle claim that would last longer than the few days you were slick and needy. His shirts, and now his jacket too, would smell of you! While you were a little worried about his reaction, the idea now that your mind had recognized it satisfied a deep part of you. Yearning deep inside of you, you desperately wanted his scent to be entangled with yours, covering both of you.

Jumping and almost falling out of the nest as the door to your room suddenly opened with no warning.

“Hmm so this is what you’re doing with my jacket. Being the cutest per-heat omega in all the universe.”

Slowly he waltzed over to the side of your bed, confidence and alpha ego dripping off of him in waves that left you dizzy. Head falling to the side as your body went limp as he stared down at you. Small whines that gradually got louder left your lips instinctually. Why was he not climbing into the nest with you already? You had already made it clear that you wanted him there by covering your nest in this clothes and scent.

He looked down at you so fondly. Eventually you realized what it was that the Master was waiting for. He wanted you to ask him directly to join you. It melted your heart and body even more to know that he wanted to make sure you fully consented.

“Please Master,” you murmured.

“Please what, little omega?” He teased with a lighthearted smirk. 

It was the softest expression you had ever seen on him, it looked out of place in the situation. Most alphas would have a sinful smirk, knowing that being invited to a pre-heat nest meant almost certainly getting to stay for the duration. But he looked so, so overjoyed and softly pleased to be trusted by you.

“Join me,” you whispered knowing he would be able to hear you no matter how quiet your words.

Climbing in beside you, the Master gently pulled you into his arms. Nose nuzzling against your collarbone. Finally you gave in to your desire to purr, letting the noise ebb and flow as you let your contentedness grow and settle. Limp you enjoyed being scented, you had no further need for anything else now. Not with him here holding you.

(804 words)

[fruitcoops]

could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”