#I need fluffy cup and mugs

[midnightfire830]

Cute IM headcanon

Dish children sleep with their hands near or covering their heads in an attempt to “protect” their most vulnerable spot. (Cupbros still do this??? I dunno??????)

Also, my little sister use to grip and tug on her ear when she was a baby so I like the idea that dish children do that too lol.

If cup stays really, really still outside, like in a park, oftentimes he’ll end up with a bunch of birds decidedly perching on him or near him. And he honestly doesn’t mind it. Used to keep bird seed in his pockets

Cuphead used to keep a bag of candies (usually hard candy, suckers, mints, or sour candy) in a pocket in his coat whenever he got hungry or just wanted something sweet. He stopped bc they’d accidentally melt/got too sticky/ someone while patting him down (for something) found it and teased him about it.

Mugman seems like that one kid who would eat whole lemons and limes, pulp, peel and all

Anyways enjoy. I’m working on art and stuff so ig stay tuned?

[jae-bummer]

Anytime, Sunshine

Request: can i request a fic where you're secretly dating coups? and can it please be fluffy??

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"Ehem."

Squeezing your eyes shut even tighter, you grumbled to yourself before flopping onto your stomach. Burying your face into the pillow, you let out a long exhale.

"Baby, I know you hear me."

"Hearing you and responding to what I'm hearing are two different things," you muttered, slowly lifting your head. Peeling open one eye, you glared at your sleep-worn boyfriend. How was it even possible for someone with that level of bedhead to look so attractive?

"Your alarm went off," Coups sighed, not even bothering to pick up that argument. "Multiple times."

"And yet, there I was," you said, plopping face down into the pillow again. "Still asleep."

"The last thing I want to do is kick you out of my bed," he continued, rubbing your lower back. "But-"

"But I need to get back on the couch," you complained. "Because I'm just your friend."

"Hey, hey," he huffed. "That wasn't my rule."

"I knoooow," you groaned. "It's mine."

Finally sitting up, you scrubbed at your eyes before looking moodily toward your boyfriend. "I'm the worst."

"You're not the worst," he smiled, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands. "I know you don't want to mess up the dynamic, but don't you think the guys would be happy to see us together? They'd still view you as a friend."

"When friends date friends in the friend group, something always gets messed up," you pouted. "I told you that when you asked me out."

"And then you told me again after we slept together," he gave a shit-eating grin this time. "Didn't stop you from doing it though."

"Choi Seungcheol," you gasped, pushing his wrists away from your face. "How very dare you."

"We're dating, Y/N," he sighed. "Why hide it from the people we love?"

"Cause it's going to make it weird," you argued, wiggling your arms on the word "weird" for emphasis. "They're not going to know how to act around us and-"

"I don't think you give them enough credit."

"I think you give them too much."

"Okay, that's valid," Coups chuckled. "I should probably know better, but it's getting harder keeping this a secret."

"Says you," you grumbled, struggling up and out of his bed. Wrapping yourself in a thick blanket, you began to waddle out of the room. "I'm obviously loving this arrangement."

.

"Yah!"

You were getting really tired of being woken up this morning.

Popping your head out from under the duvet you were using, you tried to focus your sleep-drunk eyes.

"I want to sit on the couch and eat breakfast," Seungkwan pouted with a small foot stomp. "All of the spots at the table are taken."

"Sit on the floor," you croaked, pulling the blanket up again.

"Y/N," he whined. "You're so mean to me and for what?"

Without bothering to uncover yourself again, you grumbled, "Bring me a waffle and I'll consider your demands."

"I got it," you could hear Coups laugh from the kitchen.

Worming your way out from your warm, little cocoon, you narrowed your eyes at Seungkwan who stuck his tongue out at you in response. Rolling your eyes, you pulled yourself to the corner of the couch, allowing room for him.

"I would say thank you, but I won't give you the satisfaction," he muttered, sinking into the cushion beside you.

Your mouth pressed into a thin line, trying to stay closed rather than say something that would hurt his feelings. Instead, you buried your toes beneath his thigh and relished in the newfound warmth.

"Here you go," Coups cooed, reappearing with a plate and coffee mug in hand.

Gratefully taking it from him, you tried to remind yourself, to the world, you were still just friends. "Thanks."

"Anytime, sunshine," he grinned, patting you lightly on the head.

You took a large bite of your waffle as you watched him saunter away. God, how was his back just as good looking as his front?

Looking down to your breakfast again, you almost didn't notice the side-eye Seungkwan gave you.

"What?"

"Nothing," he chirped, shaking his head with fake innocence.

"No, what?" you groaned, dropping your food to your plate.

"I just think," he began a little too calmly. "That you two would make a cute couple."

Ice shot through your veins. Surely, he hadn't picked up on anything from you and Seungcheol's interaction. He couldn't possibly know what was going on...

Could he?

Trying to stifle a surprised cough, you ground out, "What? Why? Coups? No!"

"Don't think you're fooling me, Y/N," Seungkwan hummed knowingly. You felt your heart skip a beat. There's no way he would call you out in front of everyone. Boo was dramatic, but he also had some level of common decency.

"Fooling you?" you asked, lifting your brows. "There's nothing to fool you about."

"Yeah, right!" he gasped. "You have the biggest crush on our leader!"

You tapped down on the panic that had been disseminating itself across your chest. He thought you had a crush on Coups. While not untrue, he hadn't figured out the bulk of the situation after all.

Letting out a sigh of relief you tried to mask as one of frustration, you shook your head. "It's not like that, Kwannie."

"I call bullshit," he said with a small shrug. "Your attention was glued to his ass as soon as he turned around."

"Whose attention was glued to my ass?"

Looking up with wide eyes, you were so wrapped up in Seungkwan's accusations, you hadn't noticed Coups appear in the doorway.

"Seungkwan's," you said quickly. "He was admiring your cake."

Rolling his eyes, Seungkwan laughed. "Y/N has a crush on you and it's so obvious that it causes me physical pain."

"Seungkwan," you hissed, teeth barred.

"Do they now?" Coups hummed, setting his own coffee cup on the table in front of the couch. Taking a spot on the rug in front of you, he quirked his brow. "Is that true?"

"What?" you muttered, looking rapidly between the two men. Why was your boyfriend (albeit secret) playing into this?

"Answer the question, Y/N," Seungkwan grinned, obviously enjoying himself.

"I, well, we-" you stammered.

"It's okay," Coups sighed, looking away from you dreamily. "I have a crush on you too."

You bit back a groan as Seungkwan sprung from the couch, pointing an accusatory finger at his member. "I knew it! You were making lovey eyes at each other from across the room at the restaurant last night."

"We were doing no such thing!" you gasped, attempting to salvage whatever small bit of privacy regarding your relationship that you could.

Looking over to Coups, you tried to ignore the outright mirth dancing across his face.

"Maybe I was," he hummed. "I just can't help it. You're so cute."

"Does this mean you two are going to date?" Seungkwan all but shouted, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Oh my god, did I just get you two together? I'm a love genius!"

"You are!" Coups smirked, completely playing into this whole charade. "I never would have had the courage to confess without you!"

"Remember that when my birthday comes around," Seungkwan oozed, pleased with himself. "I brought you two together. Where'd everyone go? I have to tell them immediately."

"Kwan-ah," you moaned, completely defeated. He was out of the room before you even had a moment to digest what was happening.

Turning slowly toward your boyfriend, you leveled him with the most serious death glare you could manage.

"Whoops," he grinned. "Looks like everyone found out after all."

[munson-blurbs]

The Boy is Mine (Bug's Version)

Part of @carolmunson's writing challenge! Thank you for spreading some love and joy in this community, and I hope this fic makes you smile.

Summary: A cozy night in with your sweet boyfriend who is a nuisance in the best way.

Warnings: allusions to smut, allusion to spitting, lewd jokes, basically just fluffy fluffness

WC: 1k

--

Poke.

Poke poke.

Poke poke poke.

Poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke–

“If you don’t stop,” you hiss without looking up from your chemistry notes, “we’re gonna have a problem.” 

Eddie pulls his forefinger back from where it’s pressed against your earlobe, his shit-eating grin morphing into a pitiful pout.

“But it’s date night,” he whines, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You promised me we could curl up and watch Monty Python after an hour, and it’s been…” he glances at the digital watch wrapped around his wrist, “...one hour and three minutes.”

“I’m still trying memorize–”

He snaps the small notebook shut and pulls you closer to him, effectively cutting you off. “And you will–after the movie.” Leaning back against the couch, he lines up his finger to once again prod at you. “C’mon, Sweetheart; we never get the place to ourselves on Friday nights.”

He’s right; his uncle has off on Friday nights and usually prefers to spend his free time relaxing at home, but he’s on a fishing trip this weekend with some of his old army buddies. 

“Okay, okay.” Truthfully, you are in dire need of a break; the formulas and lists of molecular compounds have all become meaningless squiggles right before your eyes. Your back hurts from being hunched over the snack table you’re using in lieu of a desk. Whatever ‘studying’ you do now will likely be unproductive, so you might as well snuggle up next to your boyfriend and enjoy a movie. “But only if I can study after. Some of us would prefer not to spend an entire decade in high school.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs. You’re the only person who’s allowed to crack jokes about him being held back–twice–and you milk it for all it’s worth. “Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. It’s only been six years. And I’m gonna graduate this time. So, ha.” He sticks out his tongue, making you giggle in turn. “But, fine. You can go back to your smart person mumbo-jumbo once we finish the movie and have sex.”

The last item on his agenda snags your attention as you swing your legs onto the cushion, its stuffing poking out from beneath its worn fabric. “Excuse me?” You cock a brow in disbelief.

“As compensation for the three minutes you spent neglecting me,” he explains with a shrug. “‘S only fair.”

“Sure. You usually only need three minutes anyway.” You lift your foot to dig it into his side, but he grabs it before you can tickle him, playfully bringing it towards his open mouth as though threatening to bite it. 

To be honest, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Best three minutes of your goddamn life.” His smirk makes a triumphant reappearance as he stands up and pads over to the kitchen. The refrigerator light illuminates him in a bright glow, a juxtaposing halo on the man wearing a shirt with a cartoon devil plastered on the front. “Wayne took all of the beer with him, but we have Mountain Dew, some orange juice that I think is still good…oh, here it is!” He rummages through the top shelf and pulls out the last can of Diet Coke, the one he’d shoved towards the back so no one drank it before you could.

You shoot him a grateful smile that he returns easily. He plucks two mugs off of the wall, both of them gag gifts he’d given to his uncle, pouring Mountain Dew in one with Ask Me About My Nuts spelled out in bolts and screws and your soda in one with a three-dimensional pair of breasts jutting out from the body.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups,” he says sheepishly, likely referring to any container that didn’t allude to body parts. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect.” 

Eddie sets the drinks down on the snack table, careful not to spill on your notebook. “Okay, pretty girl. C’mere.” He places a throw pillow on his lap and pats it, signaling that it’s time for you to assume the prime cuddling position. 

As soon as you rest your head, his hand finds its home on your upper arm. His thumb, calloused but gentle, makes gentle strokes that have both of your hearts beating slowly and in sync.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

You roll over so you can see the stubble that’s starting to prickle along his cheeks, jawline, and under his chin. “You forgot about the movie. And the snacks.”

He groans, using his free palm to rub his nose in frustration. It’s one of the cutest habits he has, and part of you always wonders if he does it just to make you smile. 

“‘M too comfy to move,” he grumbles, peering down at you with a guilty expression. 

“Me, too,” you agree. “But…snacks.”

Eddie chuckles, stretching to grab something from his side of the sofa. “We’ve got this,” he says as he procures a half-eaten can of vanilla frosting. “I swear I just opened it last night. And we can just talk until we fall asleep, like we did when we first started dating.”

The memory floods your body with warmth. Even before the two of you became a couple, when you and Eddie were only friends, you would often stay up on the phone until your consciousness gave way. No conversation topic was off-limits; on one night when he’d been more than a bit tipsy, he’d divulged some of his more…private preferences. 

“So she spit in your mouth?”

“Mhm.”

“And you like that?” 

“Abso-fuckin-lutely, Sweetheart.”

Neither of you know where tonight will take you. Maybe you’ll become a familiar tangle of limbs, trading sloppy kisses and murmured sweet nothings. Maybe the sugar from the frosting will rejuvenate one of you enough to actually put the VHS in the player. Maybe you’ll just soak in each other’s softness, letting comfort envelop you until your eyelids become too heavy to keep up.

Wherever you go, you and Eddie will get there together.

--

[freakingholland]

"Cold cloths, warm hugs" Jason Todd x gn!reader

A/N: My first ever Jason x reader fic whaaat! I have such a soft spot for this guy ugh <3 also this is so fluffy and silly, I'll see myself out!

Warnings: not proofread, swear words, Jason is feeling unwell so a mention of headaches? use of painkillers

Summary: You and Jay have a night off, what could possibly go wrong? (fluff, hurt/comfort-ish)

Word count: 850 +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

-

You were in the middle of watching some kind of lighthearted show on your night off. Jason had a night off as well, the two of you had been sitting on a couch and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Jason had been reading a book curled up next to your tucked figure, as your back was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch. Unexpectedly his reading session got disturbed. At least you thought so since he had gotten up from the couch, tossed his reading glasses aside on the coffee table and went to the kitchen without a word. At least 5 minutes had passed, and he didn’t return.

“Hey- you alright in there?”

-

“-Yup, just a sec.”

He didn’t sound very convincing. His response seemed wavering, and it was enough to make you a bit wary. As you didn’t want to possibly annoy him with your raised voice, not knowing the problem yet, instead of shouting from the sofa, you went to check on him.

His head was hanging low as he was standing with his hands resting on the counter. There was an unscrewed bottle of painkillers and a now empty, wet glass. You went behind him and put your hand on the small of his back.

“What’s going on baby?” Your heart ached at the sight.

“--Headache.” He whispered through gritted teeth. His tone made you uptight.

“I- I- gotta lie down.”

“-can you get me a cold-- towel? Please…” He spoke quietly while turning to go to your bedroom. Your hand dropped to your side.

“Course. You’re nauseous?”

He slightly leaned on the doorframe before going further away from you. He shut his eyes as the light hit his face when leaving the kitchen.

“Yeah…”

He then faltered to rest up.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath putting your head in your hand when he left.

You were hoping that you’d have a calm evening for once, you deserved to have it. It’s been a while since something bothered Jay to that degree, whether it was a patrol injury or sickness, and the fact that he was hurting on his day off made you genuinely irritated.

On the positive side – at least he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was feeling unwell. He also asked for some help without much frustration. It took months to get to this point, but encouraging Jay to open up and communicate more has been paying off. Grief-stricken conversations still happen every so often. Hell, it would be beyond belief if they weren’t happening considering the extent of past trauma that Jason has suffered through.

But his mental health really did improve over the months of you two dating.

You put on the kettle to make him a nice warm cup of tea. With the help of a stool, you managed to find his old but beloved wonder woman mug. It took some digging in your cabinet that really needed a proper cleanup. When the tea had been made you moved on to rummage through your closet to find a cloth for a cold compress. Placing three cubes of ice in between the layers was enough to make the cloth cold.

“Babe did you drink cof—“ you stopped halfway through your whispered question when you were walking into your shared bedroom.

You suddenly stopped in your tracks realizing your possible mistake. Jay was already dosing off, curled under a blanket. His lips were slightly parted. There was a noticeable change in his posture, there was less tension within his upper body, his arms seemed more relaxed than before. You didn’t think he would be falling asleep this fast, but you figured the headache must have been bad and that the painkillers actually started to kick in.

 The sight made you sigh as you you’ve been unnoticeably holding in your breath. You tiptoed to his bed side table and put down his mug of steaming tea. You then carefully kneeled down next to the bed in order to place a compress on his forehead without startling him too much. You gently pressed it onto his skin, making sure to place it slightly over his eyelids.

“That feels so nice.” He muttered.

“Shhh ignore me and go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna ignore you--, come here.”

You stood up and walked around the bed. Before joining Jay, you opened the window to let some fresh air into the room.

“Baby please…”

“’Kay ‘kay I’m coming.”

You carefully crawled under his blanket and big spooned him.

“You know what? I can already feel the headache going away just cause you’re hugging me.” He continued verbilising his loopy thoughts.

“Oh yeah? It must be some kind of magic.”

“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s magic.”

“Just don’t tell on me. Peeps might burn me at the stake.”

“Fuuuuuuck no I wouldn’t let them.”

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t big guy. ” you said running your hand through his hair.  

Jay rolled to his side to embrace you in a hug. He nuzzled his face into your chest and sighed with relief.

“JACE that’s cold! Stop it!” you winced and laughed as the compress touched your warm skin.

“It wouldn’t feel so cold if you weren’t so hot.”

“I think we gotta check your temperature…”

-

Stay whelmed xx Tori

[bigfatbimbo]

I love the idea of vox aftercare and all that fluff/fluffy stuff sm OMGG

a/n — yes omg i love fluff with vox because let’s be real i don’t think he has fluffy experiences often.

Vox fell back on to bed breathless and panting while you crawled next to him. 

“You did so good,” you said, planting a kiss on the area where his cheek would be. He whined softly, still coming down from his high.

It took a few more moments for him to come to his senses and notice the uncomfortable stickiness on and around him, along with the ache in certain areas of his neck and thighs that were littered in dozens of hickeys. 

He groaned as he went to get up, dreading the process of cleaning up and then leaving. That’s when you gently pushed his chest back onto the bed.

He looked up at you confused, before blinking,“Um— I’m a little checked out for the night.” He explained and he rolled his neck trying to distract from the hurt.

“What? Oh, oh no, Vox, that’s not—“ You try to explain before sitting up further on the bed. “Just let me clean up for you, baby. I think I went a little hard on you today,” you cross your arm around your other elbow to stretch, crack your knuckles and get off the bed.

“Oh,” Vox was slightly taken aback. Usually when he got laid it was never really about him. Valentino, for example, was more of a fuck and run situation.

There was never much aftercare. Never much he didn’t have to do himself, at least. He started to hoist himself off the bed, his body was sore though he had to stop himself from hissing in pain.

“Look it’s fine, I can just take my shit and—“

“Sit down, Vox.” You command from the other room, “You let yourself be taken care of in bed and you can do it now.” 

“That’s different,” he tried. Honestly, he really did see it that way.

“Mhm, and you’re being very brave about it,” you tease, coming back in the other room with all sorts of things; new sheets, an ice pack, and a warm, damp washcloth.

You sit next to him on the bed and begin to clean up.

“Does it hurt?” you inquire, pointing to the bruises on his neck.

“Well you did sink your teeth into the softest parts of my body so, you could imagine,” he felt bad for giving you so much attitude, so he finished the sentence with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, I bet,” You raise your head high as if to show how proud of yourself you are. 

Vox’s eye roll is cut off when you placed the ice pack to the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he winced slightly. You placed your hand on his thigh and rubbed comfortingly, kissing him on the side of his screen.

“Sorry, baby. Here keep icing that,” you say before getting up.

“Where are you going?” Vox asked, slightly scared of your leaving, even though he couldn’t place why.

You left the door to the bedroom open and walked into your kitchen. “Nowhere,” you answer, retrieving two mugs from your cupboard, “How do you like your tea?”

“I don’t. I hate tea,” he called, getting comfortable on the bed as he moved the ice to his thighs. “I prefer coffee, black, if you can,” he paused, realizing his tone, “but you don’t have too.” 

For some reason he didn’t want to be difficult towards you after everything you’ve done for him tonight. You’ve exceeded in meeting his needs and now, even after sex, took care of him.

“I—“ you can’t help but laugh at his request. “Vox it’s the middle of the night. You want coffee?” You snickered.

“Well, I didn’t think you would judge me for it,” he picked up on your unserious tone and matched it to the best of his abillities.

“And black coffee at that,” you smiled, “that’s absolute insanity.”

“Yes, we’re literally in hell and that’s insanity,” Vox couldn’t hold back a smile when you came in the room.

His heart fluttered when he saw what is in your hands, one cup of green tea along with the black coffee he requested. You listened to him, actually listened to him. 

He didn’t really know why he felt a sudden rush of affection towards you. After all, it was just coffee. But you had heard him, after the joke was over, and you still catered to his needs. 

Something Valentino would never do.

“One cup of, far superior tea, and one cup of—“ you made a fake gagging noise as you sat down, “—far less superior, bitter black coffee.” 

As you put the mugs on the bed side table, you sat down next to Vox and spread your arms out, welcoming him in. 

For some reason, Vox found himself eager to be held by you, to be appreciated and loved more. He hesitated for a moment before gladly accepting the offer.

In a moment he buries himself deep in your chest, your arms wrap around him and rub his back. 

You lean down and kiss the top of his screen, “still sore, sweetie?” 

He felt his screen heat up at the pet name. “Yes,” he simply said, despite the strong coffee he grew drowsy in your arms.

Especially with you rubbing up and down his back with your nails in such a soft demeanor.

“I’m sorry if I went to hard on you, baby,” you spoke barley above a whisper, as if noticing the fact that exhaustion finally kicked in for Vox.

“mhm, ‘ts fine. It was good,” he mumbled, using his hands to pull you closer to him by your shirt.

“You did so well for me, by the way,” you cooed in his ear. “took everything so nice. I really do think you’re amazing.”

Vox hummed quietly, feeling his screen once again heat up from your nice words. He still clung to you, desperately. If he were less tired, the praise might even get him going again.

But it was the intimacy you were displaying now that was comforting him into a deep, deep sleep.

a/n — i really hope my vague guesses on vox and val’s relationship were right bc i haven’t see the new episodes so… fingers crossed?

also i feel like i paint val out to be the only toxic one in the relationship. No, vox definitely is a manipulative problem too but of course val has affected him just as much yknow?

just to clarify—

hope you enjoyed the fic <3

[kazzattack]

I Can Be All You Need.

jason todd x fem!reader, poorly proofread (sorry), implied plus sized!reader for like 2 seconds, suggestive for like 2 seconds, mentions of food, regular mall stuff, jason’s a bit of a lover boy (and a foodie) (and a wonder woman fanboy)

a/n — hey! so this is technically my first fluffy fic. short n cute trip to the mall with jay. it’s kinda short but i was excited to share this :) i hope it’s cute and i hope you enjoy, tysm for reading <3

so you dragged jason todd to the mall with you. he’s all grumpy and huffin’ n’ puffin’ but he knows he’d rather be with you than anywhere else without you. he’d go to hell and back for you actually, with or without. jason enjoys keeping you safe, even if there’s no immediate threat. he finds comfort in being your partner for these trips; he likes to think of himself as your bodyguard, even. you’re attached to his arm and he’s right by your side, towering over you, ensuring there’s no room to mistake you as anything other than his- though he prefers to look at himself as yours.

let’s keep it real, you’re definitely there to blow all your money because there’s nothing nicer than dating someone with a connection to bruce wayne. not to be reckless, but it’s a huge weight off your shoulders at the very least. through this you learn that jason’s also not the type to go crazy over buying new stuff. out of habit he easily survives with the same clothes he’s had since his last growth spurt. hence why you’ve forced him to the men’s section of… whatever store you just wandered in to. poor guy doesn’t get much of a say in what gets thrown at him to hold. it is stuff for him, so it only makes sense for him to hold it.

“oh, you’d make these look real good,” you mutter and he arches his brow at you after catching whatever the hell you just tossed at him. “what was that?” he’d feed into your mischief with a grin when you quickly brush off your statement.

once you’re pleased with what you both have, you’re tugging at his leather jacket and point at the dressing rooms. he simply huffs out a laugh, looking at the amount of shit you have. he can’t be too upset over it, though; watching you get dressed is honestly one of his favorite pastimes. it’s abundantly clear, too. he spends the whole time ogling the way your thighs fill out that satin red dress he helped you choose, sports a boyish smirk at the way you fight with a too-small bra, and you’re prying the man off your skin when he grips your hips and kisses at your neck once you try on the one set of lingerie he didn’t catch you grab earlier. a good hour or two later and he begrudgingly walking you out of the store, though he’s relieved he got away with not trying on all the stuff you threw at him.

and despite the demeanor he’s got due to overwhelming height and muscle, jason can’t help the little green twinkle in his eye when you two stop by a shop dedicated to the justice league. he’s not a big nerd or anything, but… a little browse of wonder woman’s merchandise isn’t hurting anyone. he has half a mind to buy poster of batsie, just to dedicate it to throwing darts and knives right at the stupid pointy eared prick for shits and giggles, but the last thing he wants to do is waste money on him when the mug with his favorite’s logo on it is a much better purchase.

for a split second, jason is the cutest. watching your big scary biker boyfriend sport a wide and toothy grin at the idea of waking up to you and a warm cup of coffee, sun shining through streams of steam and making the golden glow of the logo shine even more; the idea makes him all soft, and even though he’s good at hiding it from others, you can all but see the butterflies in his stomach.

“you’ve gotta eat now,” you singsong by his side, tugging him to a map so you can point out where to go. you’re yanked back in the opposite direction, though, with zero effort when he’s simply stopped moving. you’re arm’s hooked around his, pinching at the leather of his jacket. “what-“

“it’s over there,” he states.

“how do you-“

“because i saw it. i’ve got an eye for food, y’know.” right. because he’s your personal bloodhound, practically sniffing out the baked goods before they’re even mentioned. now it’s his turn to drag you around, like the food court is his designated area; he’s telling you about how he’d prefer to make the food himself, even though it’s ‘not that bad.’ they could’ve made the sauce a little better. and christ, he hates when he can tell the stuff’s overcooked, even by a mere few minutes. jason just knows he’d make it better, and you do too. better yet, it’d benefit everyone to hand the recipes over to alfred.

once you two have called alfred, letting him know you’ve had a successful trip, you make your way back to the entrance. you put on a cheery voice as you speak to the old man, all about jason’s good behavior and lack of harm done to anything in the vicinity. you snicker and your man scoffs at you, rolling his eyes.

on the way, though, a jeweler catches jason’s attention- or more so all the pretty jewels. he tells you to go on, he’ll be right out, still eyeballing the jewelry with a stare intense enough to make the seller uneasy. he’s almost reluctant to admit it, but just the sight of the rings on display reminds him of you. it’s got his heart pumping again, face a little tingly, same twinkle in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen a few times. he needs the best band; not the one with the biggest diamond or the shiniest metal- but one that’d speak to you. both of you.

“jason!”

“yeah- coming!”

he needs more time, anyway. more time and real jewelry to choose from, he notes. jason todd feels like he’s waited his whole life for you, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to properly devote himself to you with the best ring he could possibly find. most of all- he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to be all you’ll ever need, just as you’re all he needs.

[frostbitebakery]

THERE’S ALWAYS ROOM FOR JUST DES(S)ERTS

a Gooey-Wan story

Sitrep.

Cody stares at the tableau in front of him.

Palpatine’s body has gone cold and kind of more shrivel-y, still in that terror-filled, agonized fetal position.

A mouse droid steadily bumps into the corpse as it cleanses up nightmare sludge residue. The usual wails of eternal torment and stalking mimic of the hunted under the whirring of the little droid are almost a comfort.

The galaxy is saved from a madman’s nightmare visions by his own, custom-tailored nightmares in between a lot of impressive lightsaber acrobatics and surprisingly few dismemberments, considering.

“Huh,” Fox says next to him and takes a sip from his “Second Best Commander in the GAR” mug that Cody had helpfully corrected and improved.

“There were,” Obi-Wan pauses, visibly ruminating on his next words, “a surprising amount of tookas involved in the dreams. And those little… do you recall those little fluffy critters we encountered on Therenx VI?”

“Huh,” Cody echoes. He does remember the small bear-like animals. Mainly because they tended to shoot lightning out of their fuzzy little bellies unprovoked. Perma-banning them from the Negotiator after singed eyebrows and electrocuted equipment had involved a lot of tears and attempts at mutiny secretly sponsored by Cody’s General.

“So,” Fox drawls out, “that’s it?”

General Windu frowns. “With the reveal, there are certainly more issues to be resolved. But for the moment? Yes, it seems so.”

“‘Kay. I’m going on vacation. Toodles.” And with that Cody watches Fox go away with a careless gesture.

Cody waves after him before he realizes what he’s doing. He shakes his head and turns back. “You okay?”

The pulsing, thick smoke is slowly absorbed back into the heavy cloak. Obi-Wan is flickering once in a while, the sclera of his eyes a black hole for the stars in his pupils. He drags a hand through his hair but the stubborn strands just fall back across his forehead. “That was quite the outing,” he says cheerfully. “Never did like Taungsdays very much.”

Cody raises his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer. He doesn’t do anything to suppress or hide the smile tugging insistently on his lips.

“Frankly, I could do with a cup,” Obi-Wan admits and cracks his back with a satisfied groan that does it for Cody very much. “I do feel a bit matte.” He tilts his head back a bit, strange, beautiful eyes seeming to stare into the galaxy’s matter itself. The black tongue laps at his lips, quick and away. “And very full. The Chancellor’s dreams provided indeed.”

The sing-song voice is back and Cody shivers despite himself. It’s…unnerving. The one thing that makes the hair rise on Cody’s arms. That tells his hindbrain that there’s nowhere he can hide, nowhere he can crawl into, nowhere to turn to, because what is looking for him can find him in ways beyond his control.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, black bleeding out of his eyes, and leans forward on his knees with another long groan. “I want a nap.”

General Windu shakes his head with a fond look, and leads him away from the body with a steady hand sinking into a smoky shoulder. “Master Mundi is bringing some trusted Senators here.”

“Very well,” Obi-Wan nods and looks at Cody. “Commander,” he starts and Cody straightens instinctively as he receives the last orders from his General.

.

“Force, this is exactly what I needed,” Cody hears around the entry to the small kitchen. He takes his mug back to the living quarters and drowns in the sofa cushions next to Obi-Wan.

Nightmare sludge is happily sopping into the bowl placed under black clawed hands.

“Feel better?” Cody asks, sipping from freshly brewed caf made from real beans. The luxury feels endless. Smoke gently curls in between his fingers, dancing and playing around when he wiggles his hand.

With a mischievous smile Obi-Wan turns his head to him, burrows into his side. “Hmhm, that shower was rejuvenating.”

Cody has to agree. Feeling the grime and battle and literal nightmares washing off his skin, Obi-Wan’s skin, under hot water and hotter breath, the calming smell of the soap steaming against the tiles - it feels like a happy ending like in the holo movies.

“How are you?” Obi-Wan asks, shaking nightmares off one hand into the bowl.

“You know,” Cody tips his head against ginger hair and closes his eyes, “I feel really good.”

for @deathdovesong

[hardly-an-escape]

just thinking about Hob and Dream and acts of service as a love language and how Hob would react as Dream gradually reveals more details about just how horrifying his imprisonment was…

Hob realizing exactly how long it’s been since Dream was touched by another person and deliberately seeking out opportunities to touch him in casual and gentle (and plausibly deniable) ways. passing him a mug of tea and just briefly cupping the back of his wrist. a gentle hand on his shoulder as he points at something. Hob’s knee against Dream’s under the table or his toes tucked under Dream’s leg on the couch. after a while he starts hugging Dream hello and goodbye and each hug lasts a fraction of a second longer than the last.

Hob makes a random comment about breathing and Dream mentions that the glass sphere was basically airtight - mentions it in an offhand, ‘it didn’t really matter because I don’t technically need to breathe anyway’ kind of way - but it matters to Hob. so wherever they are he starts making sure there’s a window cracked or a door propped open so Dream can feel fresh air.

Hob, thinking about how cold and hard glass is, starts offering Dream his coziest sweaters and softest, most worn-in t shirts and pajama pants. fleece blankets and fluffy pillows multiply in his flat like there’s an infestation. he considers buying a four poster bed with curtains, like in the olden days, in case Dream ever wants to sleep with him take a nap.

Hob just doing everything he can to fill Dream’s time in the waking world with pleasant sensations. beeswax candles and delicious cooking smells. there’s always music playing on his stereo when Dream is over. fresh colorful flowers on the coffee table every week (sometimes he makes Dream come along to the farmers market and pick them out).

and Dream knows what he’s doing, of course, because subtlety is not Hob Gadling’s middle name, and at first it almost offends him, and then it amuses him, and finally it unlocks something inside him - because he comes to understand that Hob is not trying to fix him; he’s trying to fill in the holes that Burgess drilled in him with something new, something warm and kind.

and one fall afternoon they’re coming back from the farmers market with flowers and this spicy chili oil Hob has been wanting to try, and it’s raining so they’re crowded under one umbrella and Hob’s shoulder is pressed warm against Dream’s, and Hob is extolling the virtues of a hot bath on a chilly day. and they come inside and shed their wet jackets (because it was a rather small umbrella) and Hob immediately gets a fluffy towel to wrap around Dream’s shoulders.

and Dream just can’t help it anymore, he’s in this space that has been filled with soft, warm things for him and he’s looking into Hob’s soft, warm eyes which are brimming with love for him and he leans in and kisses him. and Hob’s mouth is as soft and warm as his eyes. and the last vestige of that cold glass sphere that was lodged under Dream’s ribs cracks and dissolves under the warmth of Hob’s care.

and it turns out Hob didn’t need to get a four poster bed after all because his bog standard ikea one serves its purpose just fine.

[carolmunson]

must be a kind of blind love

(older!modern!eddie - interlude blurbie) orange colored sky setlist

a/n: wrote this little older!eddie blurbie in honor of me needing glasses. my birthday is tomorrow so consider this an early present from me. this doesn't have to fit in order of any time line, it's just cute and fluffy. however, there are some exciting revelations in here.

tw: references to smut, foul language, otherwise pretty tame. idiots in love.

"Yyyyell-o." "You gotta stop answering the phone like that, Ed."

"It's how I always answer the phone, baby -- it's like a muscle memory."

"Ooh, muscle memory, big word for you," you chuckle, you can hear him click clacking against his keyboard on the other end, "You busy?"

"Not too busy, you okay?" he asks, the click clacking slows down to a stop, you hear the roll of his desk chair and some shuffling, the sound of an iPhone being unplugged from his computer.

"So um, I just left the doctors..."

"Okay before you finish what you're saying, I need you to never start a phone call with 'I just left the doctors...' fours days after we had sex," he interrupts, "We clear on that?"

You laugh, it's hearty and bubbly, enough to calm him from the heart racing 'what ifs' running through his head, "Yes, we're clear -- but you knew I had this doctor's appointment!"

"I know, but still -- how'd it go? Everything good?"

"Well..." you start, "It was an eye doctor appointment, like, an optometrist."

"I know what an optomestrist is, baby girl," he says sweetly, "But thank you for clarifying."

"Anyway I went and got my eyes check and uh..." you trail off, not wanting to say it. You can hear the low giggle coming from his throat, practically see the smile in his next sentence.

"Aw, you need glasses, don't you, peach?" he smirks into his question, heading down the metal staircase into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup.

"Yeah," you say poutily, "And now my eyes hurt cause they did dialysis on my eyes I mean -- dialated my eyes, whoops."

"I would hope they didn't perform dialysis on your eyes, jesus," he still can't hold back his gruff giggle, "Is it bad? What's your perscription?"

"I think it's honestly just an astigmatism? But better safe than sorry," you explain, "Don't make fun of me."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna make fun of you," Eddie pops the mug into the microwave, "Now you know how I feel every time you tell me to put my glasses on. Not fun gettin' old, is it?"

"You make it look pretty fun," you shrug, walking over to the train. The printed out paper with your perscription on it is blinding outside, the white glaring into your dilated pupils, "Fuck that's bright."

"I'm almost done with work for today, you wanna just come to mine?" he asks, "We can go look for frames for you."

"You're gonna be mean," you complain, "I don't like when you're mean."

"I won't be mean, I promise."

"Do you want me to come over?" you ask.

He bites his tongue, wanting to reply with a snappy 'Would I have invited you if I didn't?' but he can tell you just need the reassurance.

"I'd love to see you," his voice warm honey while it drips into the receiver, "Of course I want you to come over. You getting on the train?"

"Yeah I'm like, maybe twenty minutes way," you smile.

"Well then I'll see you in twenty, okay?" "Okay."

He spends the first couple minutes teasing you when you get in to get it out of his system, peppering you with kisses when your fake pout gets too cute for him. Eddie gives you his glasses to try on but you squint.

"These are too blurry," you shake your head, scrunching your nose in a way that has him melting.

"Well that's cause my visions a little worse than yours," he shrugs, plucking them off your face by the bridge and popping them onto his own.

"I think your glasses are nice," you shrug, "They make you look handsome."

"Handsome, huh?" he quirks a brow, "I think they make me look like my uncle. He's like, 74."

"You don't look 74," you roll your eyes.

"No?"

"No, babe," you say sweetly, tilting your head when you look at him, "You look at least 72."

He clicks his tongue and puffs out a breath, "How did I know?"

"You love it," you smirk, kissing his cheek and then the tip of his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, I love it," he nods along, tilting his head up to kiss your lips. He pulls you in close to him, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island where you stand between his thighs.

Yeah, yeah, I love it. I love you. I think I love you.

"When your eyes feel a little less blurry you wanna look for some frames?" he asks, noses touching. You nod, feeling safe in his hold, eyes fluttering closed when he kisses your cheek. Eddie's full lips kiss from your cheek to your jaw, to the top of your neck -- implying all the ideas he has in mind to pass the time.

"We can fool around if you want," he asks against your skin, "That sound good to you, four eyes?"

You groan into a laugh, shoving him lightly off you, "Fuck you."

Laughing in the kitchen together is his new favorite past time.

Cat-eye, round, square, wire-rimmed, low brow -- there's too many options. You chew on your lower lip looking at the walls of frames, trying to not get in the way of other people while they grab pairs to try on in the brightly lit mirrors.

"Where do I even start?" you ask yourself, feeling Eddie close behind you. His hand presses against your mid back, leading you over to a wall that doesn't have people crowded around it. It gives you a moment to breathe, he rubs your shoulder as it relaxes.

"What types of sunglasses to you normally wear?" he asks, "That's a good place to start."

You had a few fake pairs of Raybans, a couple cat-eye frames from when you were in your early twenties. One pair of rimless glasses from a 90s party that you don't totally hate. You reach for the Wayferer shaped ones, wire rim bottom and flat top -- you find it accentuates your brows in a way that isn't quite right. They sit uneven on your face.

"These are awful," you mumble, taking them off.

"No they're not," he assures. He grabs a few pairs that are sort of ridiculous just to get you laughing -- big wild pairs with bright colors, a pair of transition lens aviators that look straight out of a serial killer movie, exaggerated cat eye lenses that he said his great aunt would've worn in the 80s. He heals every tease with a gentle kiss to your temple or forehead just over the bridge of your nose.

Eventually he starts looking at sunglasses for himself while you gain the confidence to go for it on your own. It's not lost on him when some of the ladies who work there come over to see if he needs help that they're flirting, and to be fair, he's never one to not indulge. You catch his eye in an opposite mirror where he gives you a wink -- he blushes when you roll your eyes in return.

You finally think you've settled on a pair you like, one that surprises you. Thin wire rimmed, brushed gold, they sit slightly round over your face, dipping a bit onto the tops of your cheeks. They don't accentuate whatever is happening with your brow line, they almost feel like they're supposed to be there. Your next thought sounds like your mom in your ear -- They go with everything!

You push your hair back, seeing if you'll still like them with your hair out of the way and down again. You snap a picture -- well, you snap a few. You don't hate it.

"Hey," you call out, tapping on his shoulder when you get behind him, "What do you think?"

Eddie turns, smoothly taking off the new sunglasses he was considering, "Lemme see."

"Oh honey," he coos, "Oh my god you look like a sweet little secretary."

"Stop," you laugh, heat hitting your cheeks at his praise. "Gotta get you a type writer so you can come work for me," he eggs on playfully, "You can screen all my calls. Maybe earn some over time..."

"Don't be annoying," you chide, slapping at his arm when he snakes it around you.

"No, peach you look so sweet," he gushes, "Really."

"I don't look like a nerd?" you ask, looking into the mirror again.

"Of course you do," he confirms, "But that's what I like about them. Plus, they go with everything."

"We'll be like twins," you say with a nudge, "Yours are sort of like this but silver."

"You're right," he nods, "Look at that, nerds in love."

He gives you a quick kiss -- but both of your hearts sink when the weight of what he says hits both your ears. Nerds in love.

In love.

In love.

You hear him swallow and you do the same. There's a jitter to both of you after, like both of you are pretending to not have heard that sentence. Like it didn't happen.

"So you like these ones?" he asks, voice cracking like a teenager. He clears his throat before flagging over one of the women who offered to help him before, "Can we uh, can we get these set up with her prescription?"

The woman's smile is dazzling, perfect for retail -- you'd buy anything she told you to buy. She takes the pair in your hand and goes to work, calling you both over to the iPads by the check out desk to get the order in. Your heart hammers while you make your way over.

"Ed, I don't even know how much those cost," you say under your breath.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbles back, "You're not paying for 'em."

"Ed," you protest, "No." You shake your head, the serious look on your face makes his chest hot with embarrassment.

But he's quick, he's a loverboy for a reason, "Just think of it as insurance for all the jokes I get to make at your expense. I'm earning my right to bully you by buying them."

"You're so dumb," you huff, taking his hand while he reaches out to you to place your order.

"You love it."

"Yeah, yeah, I love it."

I love it, you think, I think I love you.

prev | next

[mamayan]

I would murder for more Aizawa but that's not what this ask is about tee hee~

My boy Mirio except it's him and reader's first time and reader can't keep up with his stamina 👉🏽👈🏽

Ah yes, my golden boy. My golden retriever. My goodest boy award winning champion. Mirio Togata! Your request is comin’ right up! ♡ not proof read!

☆彡Moderation★彡

Mirio Togata x Fem! Reader

CW: Established Relationship • Future AU • NSFW • Fluff! • Virgin! Mirio • Virgin! Reader • Penetration • Praise • Overstimulation • Humor (he’s a goof) • Fingering (F) • Oral (F) • Size Kink • Creampie

He’s looking at you again.

With those eyes. The ones that sparkle and say “look at how cute I am!” while a pink hue covers his cheeks.

You pointedly ignore the look, resuming work on your laptop while he sulks over on the couch. You weren’t going to give in, he’s had a long day of patrols as a pro-hero, and needed to be prioritizing sleep. Hence, why you’re working even though your boyfriend arrived late in the evening to see you. His face popping through your front door to announce his presence nearly sending you to an early grave.

“Hey babe! I brought Thai food—,”

“Kyaaa!” You’d thrown the cup you’d been washing right at him. The ceramic mug neatly caught in his hand, also coming through your door. His boisterous laugh only earning him an earful as you repeat your request for him to knock like a normal person.

“Sorry, I always forget! I just get so excited to see you!” You can imagine a golden fluffy tail wagging behind him and droopy ears on his head. His attitude akin to your neighbor’s dog.

“What’re you doing here so late Mirio?” Your pointed look had him deflating, and it makes your chest feel stuffy to see him so.

“I just wanted to see you…?” How were you supposed to send him away?

“When is the last time you’ve had a full night’s rest? You need to sleep Mirio.” Your worry far greater than anything else as you fret over him. He sets the food down in the kitchen, moving his tall and imposing frame towards you. You’re quickly wrapped in his strong arms, squished gently to his chest as he just breathes you in for a moment. It’s impossible not to relax, to let him take a little weight despite it being him who needs the burden lightened. “I just want you to take care of yourself…” your sweet confession has him nearly dropping to one knee, but well aware a marriage proposal so quick to your new relationship might have you scampering away.

“Hmm, then, could I stay the night here?” His words have you tensing up nervously, aware of the implication and not naive to what it can lead to.

You don’t mind, really, but once again your thoughts stick to his lack of sleep and self care lately. He’s been working nearly 18 hours a day for the last week! It’s a criminal offense, those hours.

That’s how you’re here now. Finishing up work and trying to pointedly ignore Mirio’s soft blue eyes glittering for your attention. Despite his size and figure, his face makes even children trusting of him, looking incapable of bringing harm. You fell in love with the man for far more than just such simply reasons, but it certainly wasn’t a disservice that your boyfriend was so cute.

You don’t notice he’d snuck up on you, only startling as thickly corded arms snake over your shoulders and chest. He leans his head on top of yours, looking down at your work.

“Mirio, you can stay here, but go to bed please—,”

“Are you scared?” His questions pauses your rant, and you tense under the weight he’s leaned on you. The slight change in demeanor is all he needs to drop his arms, and you’re a little embarrassed and ashamed when he moves away from you.

Only for his hands to grip the bottom of your chair and turn you completely around.

He’s crouching down now, though with his height and size, even with you sitting he’s nearly eye level with you. His face, normally like sunshine and smiling, is uncharacteristically stoic. His gaze somewhat darkened as he seems to silently command your full attention.

“Sunshine,” you try not to show how the pet name makes your heart flutter, “If my presence is making you feel pressured in any way, I promise it is no big deal for me to go sleep on the couch, on the floor, or go home.” You go to open your mouth, defensive because you didn’t want him to leave or sleep anywhere but on a comfortable bed. He’s quick to gently wrap a large hard over your jaw, hushing you as making you look up at he stands to loom over you.

It’s not threatening. Even with how big and bulky the blonde is, his aura of protection and kindness is undeniable.

“I want you, all of you, but do not doubt for one second in your mind that I am a man who can’t wait. I have never loved a woman like I love you, I’m nervous and scared too, I’m not experienced nor can I confidently say I’m going to always be able to keep my excitement in check but…” he leans closer, you can feel the warmth of his breath and smell his cologne. “I will always respect what you want.”

He finishes so firmly, no room for any other thoughts but his sincerity, that you feel your eyes water and lip wobble. How many losers had you dated before, who grew vicious and mean when you rejected them? How many said hateful words and comments like that’d make you any more open to sex? How many left you because you wanted to get to know them as a person before you let yourself be so vulnerable?

“I love you too,” your voice is a little hoarse, but you wrap your hands around his wrist, keeping his touch on you as you let yourself relax. You look up, to his soft shining eyes and sweet smile, and you can’t help mimicking it. Letting your lips tilt up because even though your heart is so full it feels like it’ll overflow, you are happy and so sure of him. You’ve been sure of him, but the topic and approach just lost on you. He’s been so busy working as a hero as well, saving lives and people, that you’ve felt guilty taking time he could be resting away from him.

“You aren’t tired?” You feel so shy, despite knowing him and always being so comfortable around him. It feels different.

“Not even a little.” He chuckles, and you’re truly gone as you move one hand away from his wrist to curl into the fabric of his t-shirt. Tugging him down further, so you could kiss him. Slot your lips against his thin and soft ones, and further solidify your resolve.

“Let’s go to bed Mirio…” you break the kiss, to really look into his eyes. They widen slightly, and his face flushes deeper than you’ve ever seen before as he stutters out, “A-are you sure? Like… uh, just bed or…?” You giggle, grinning as you feel your nerves evaporate in the presence of his.

This big strong pro-hero, stuttering and blushing while waving his hand in panic, because you invited him to bed.

“No, not just bed, unless you lied and you really are tired?” Your sly smile and quirked brow set him off, his huff and grumble as he scoops you up into a Princess carry adorable.

“Not tired…” he grumps, marching you nearly mechanically to your room, toeing the door open and setting you down on your mattress. He nervously rubs a hand on the back of his neck, not looking at you as he mumbles a bit awkwardly.

“Okay… so you said not just bed, but could you possibly say… it?” He’s sheepish and you feel overcome with the need to tease him. You bat your lashes, looking coy and so beautiful he really finds it difficult to swallow as he looks down at you before averting his eyes again, trying to stay on topic.

“Say what Mirio…?” You sit up on your knees, reaching to hook a finger in his belt loop and tug him closer. You hardly have to use any strength, his body automatically following your nonverbal orders perfectly. Your head is at his chest like this, perfect height to run your hands softly over his torso and slip under his jacket to push it off his shoulders.

He lets you. No fight or push back in him as you feel yourself becoming emboldened. He makes you feel confident. Like whatever you’re doing, however you’re doing it, is right in his book. Maybe it’s just right that you’re touching him.

“Say that I love you…?” You’re clearly teasing, your smile too saccharin and eyes too mischievous. He chuckles, soft and quiet, keeping his hands off you but allowing you full access to him. It’s on purpose.

“I love you too pretty girl, but not quite what I meant…” his jacket drops to the ground, and you’re working on his shirt next, shivering at the feel of his solid muscles beneath your finger tips.

“Oh? Say that I’m so lucky you’re mine…?” He wants to touch you, but he also doesn’t want to ruin your fun. It’s a battle of will for him at the moment. When your soft small hands can’t reach any farther to push his shirt off and he has to help you, his jeans feel too tight.

“Fuck, I’m lucky you’re mine, my girl who loves to tease me.” You giggle again, feeling jittery and aroused as he throws his shirt next to his jacket, upper body naked and in full view for your eyes to feast on. You’re hands aren’t innocent either, and while you’ve felt him up plenty during your make out sessions… once more it feels different. Warmer and more passionate.

“Mhm… then, say I want you to make love to me? That I want you inside of me? To touch me?” He moans, shivers racking his body visibly as he finally gets his permission to touch you.

You squeal in excitement as he pushed you, your back hitting the soft sheets as he leans over you with a wicked grin. He looks victorious. “You said,” is all you get before he’s kissing you like lives depend on it, lips parting for his tongue to invade and swirl around your own. Nipping and sucking on your lips as his calloused hands run up your sides and squeeze you. You moan up into the kiss, muffled as you wrap your arms around his neck to anchor him to you. Your hands naughty, moving to run through his soft locks and tugging.

He groans, pulling away and grunting when you do it again, his gaze darker than before as he smiles. “Keep teasing me baby, you look so pretty like this.” You gasp in pleasure as he grips your sleep shorts, yanking them down and swiftly off your legs. They’re tossed to the floor as he does the same to your shirt, leaving you beneath him in only a thin bra and panties.

It’s the most he’s ever seen of you.

You don’t get a chance to feel anything but purely embarrassed as he moans, his forehead connecting with your chest as he grips your arms tightly. “S-sorry, just—you’re so cute. I need a moment.” You heat up, stomach filled with butterflies as you huff a laugh. His display dramatic but endearing. It’s not hard to make him sit up, as your hands go to his jeans and work on opening them up, setting off a whole new display of theatrics.

“Fuck, fuck, your hands look so cute, do you want me to help? No? Oh, oh fuck so soft, wait—,” you don’t wait, not when he sounds so desperate, no when you’re so desperate. Just to touch him. Feel him. Make this powerful pro-hero adored by the masses crumple under your hand, because of you. You try not to make a face, as your hand finally does feel and wrap around him… and your fingers don’t quite all touch around. No, you try not to flinch or show your astonishment because only pornos had actors this big, but Mirio is hanging on to your every reaction. He doesn’t miss it. You wince, lips parting a bit as his pants hang off his hips and you hold his hard cock in your hand.

It’s hot, physically hotter than the rest of his body, and you’re slightly clammy as you give a few experimental jerks like you’ve seen in videos.

“Ah, mhm, here baby, like this…” his hands are so much bigger than your own, it’s more obvious as one wraps around yours to show you how he likes to be touched. He tightens his hold, moaning a bit as he watches and essentially uses your hand like a sex toy. Harder and faster than you’d done it, working his uncut cock up further and somewhat strangling to tip before dropping back down. You’re enthralled, watching the reddened head leak all over you both, his pre-cum copious, helping as a lubricant to make the movements easier.

“Does it feel good?” You can’t help it, as he semi leans over you and masturbates with your hand, you ask a somewhat rhetorical question.

His smile melts the anxiety like the sun melts ice. “I feel like I’m going to die I’m so close to coming.” His honest answer has you simmering. “Is that okay? Can I cum for you?” His breathing is labored, little grunts and moans mingled but he doesn’t look away from you or the soft skin revealed to his eyes.

“Y-yes…” you feel silly for the words which nearly came out, but he seems to see right through you.

“I need you to say it more clearly.” He’s moving his hips now, pushing more of his fat cock through the grip of your fist and making the muscles in your hand ache, but you refuse to release tension. You swallow the embarrassment, because this is Mirio and even if he did laugh, wouldn’t you follow too?

“I want you to cum for me Mirio, cum in my mouth.” It sounds like a line torn from a sex tape, but it’s a line which apparently has him seizing up because suddenly your yanked forward into a sitting position. His cock right by your lips, his hand using your own to work himself furiously as you instinctively open just before he gasps and his load shoots in spurts onto your tongue and lips. “So hot, fuck you’re so hot, so pretty like this…ah,” his head is thrown back as he slows his vicious abuse, your concern for his well being unnecessary as he comes down from his euphoria. You swallow, and while you’d heard horror stories of how men taste, you note it’s mild and a little salty. He doesn’t taste bad at all.

Your hand is sticky and wet as you pull it off him, shiny strings of pre-cum and actual cum breaking off his softening erection as peer up at him.

Despite having a redder than usual face, Mirio looks the same. Grinning and proud looking as he shuffles off the bed to fully remove his clothes.

You really thank whatever star granted you such a man. His entire body sculpted and powerful, each muscle on display and you giggle as he flexes dramatically for you, climbing back onto the bed and encouraging you to lie back. “Thank you sweet girl, but don’t you think I also deserve a taste?” His innuendo not lost on you. Your heart picks up, but you nod with a nervous smile as you let him strip your remaining undergarments off so he could have full access to you.

Like with everything about Mirio, he isn’t shy.

Quick to use those big hands to spread your thigh, keeping you open with his own as his hands smooth up your hips, over you soft belly and up to your breasts where he leans over to capture a nipple in his mouth. You can’t quiet the noise it draws from you, your hands tangling again in his hair as you moan. His tongue lavishing your hardening nipple, wetting it and sucking as he stares and tracks every little piece of information you give to him. Like learning the moves of a villain in battle, Mirio is consciously memorizing your movements and habits to see what makes you react more.

Your hips move against nothing, his thighs keeping you spread and your wet cunt exposed to the cool air in the room as you twist and writhe beneath him. He’s gentle, even as he nips and sucks bruising marks onto your chest and up as he kisses to your jaw. “Mirio…” you mumble so sweetly it makes his teeth ache, and he doesn’t stop himself from sinking into your neck a little roughly with his teeth. Your sharp gasp turning into a moan as he licks the sting away.

“You’re so cute, so precious, all mine. I’m so lucky, aren’t I?” He’s murmuring against you, finally bringing his lips up again to kiss you deeply. His tongue and scent distracting as he lets a finger trail through your slick, jolting you with the shock of pleasure as he brushes over your clit. “Does it feel good?” His teasing voice is right beside your ear, and while you can’t see him, you know he’s enjoying the payback. You huff a laugh, hardly focused on his words as you’re forced to accept the minuscule stimulation he’s giving. Teasing and not enough.

You turn your head, using your grip in his hair to make him stay while you whisper in his ear. “It feels so good… but it’d feel better inside me.” He groans, his cock once again aching and hard as he rests his head in the crook of your neck while he allows his finger to push inside your pussy. If you’d thought his cock was hot, you had no idea how warm inside you were. Mirio momentarily stunned by the intensity of your body temperature as he’s forced to imagine the tight wet space stretching to fit him.

“I think I’m going to lose my mind…” his whisper is barely audible, and you don’t get a chance to question him as he adds another finger, this time you feel the stretch. “Mirio, oh,” you tremble beneath him, hands leaving his hair to wrap around his free hand braced on your hip. You can’t help but watch, feeling so wound up felt both incredible and frustrating all at once. “I want to cum, Mirio, please,” your little whines and moans were already leaving him dizzy, but your begging with those wide watery eyes made it hard not to get rougher with you. Your pussy soaked his hand, the wet squelching of each thrust of his fingers inside of your gooey walls making you twist and grind your hips onto him.

“M’gonna cum…” the build it up quick and slow all at once, Mirio finally hitting a spot inside that had stars bursting in your eyes. The tight coil in your belly snaps as you shake and come apart for him. “That’s it, so good…” he’s working you down slowly, easing the speed and intensity as you come down, kissing your forehead so gently.

You drowsily look up at him, as he brings his fingers to his lips and noisily sucks each one clean as he holds eye contact. You huff in embarrassment, trying not to show how arousing the display truly way. “Do you think you could cum on my tongue next baby?” His serious expression was enough to have you focusing despite the lull of your body.

He wants to make you come again?

You couldn’t help but feel giddy, nodding and letting out a happy giggle as he kissed your cheeks, nose, and lips. “Thank you pretty girl.” He never ceased to amaze, because should it be you who was thankful? It hardly mattered as your attention drifted to his lips traveling down, leaving marks in his path to your sopping wet pussy.

“So pretty,” he chuckles as you shy away, feeling odd having him just stare at you. His hands moving to spread the lips of your cunt to stare at your twitching hole he wanted to fill so badly. His blue eyes are nearly black, his pupils blown wide and face so flushed he appears intoxicated. “Don’t just stare—oh!” He’s on his elbows the next moment, hooking around your thighs and spreading you wider as he comes within an inch of touching your pussy. His mischievous gaze holding your own as he sticks his tongue out to lick one fat strip up your folds.

“Fuck,” you shudder, the foreign feeling consuming. So much softer than any toy or time you’ve used your fingers. It’s feather light at first, ticklish and textured as he laves at your clit lazily, letting you adjust to the sensations. It’s not long before your hips are wiggling, your little moans getting louder. The sounds of him lapping at your cunt naughty and arousing to your ears. Your hands were back into his hair, trying to pull him closer as he experiments with pressure, speed, and location.

Direct kitten licks to your clit drives you wild, the soft little sweet sensations making you shiver and gasp. His tongue delving inside of you makes you grind harder against him, soaking his face. When he sucks on your clit though, you come almost instantly, crying out in panic as he tears a viscous orgasm from you too quickly.

“Mirio! Hgh!” Your back arches off the mattress, and you nearly tear his hair out as he watches up in amazement as you jerk in his hold, further soaking him as you come. He didn’t expect such an intense release, but as you twitch and gasp for air he kindly wastes none of your release. Licking you up and moaning as the mental video of you shattering beneath him plays.

“That was perfect, you did perfect, thank you,” he’s kissing you senseless, pushing the taste of your own release into your mouth as he knocks your thighs almost painfully far apart and settles himself between them. You felt so small like this, caged in by his enormous frame and kind eyes. His hair messy and falling a bit into his face as he traces his thumb over your cheek. Letting you fully catch your breath.

“How do you feel? Are you tired?” His question sparks a bit of rebellion in you, as you eye him with the same pout he’d aimed at you earlier tonight and the same words, “Not even a little.”

He laughs, boisterous as he pulls you into a hug so familiar and like Mirio, nuzzling into you and kissing you with such affection it makes you laugh as well. “I love you sunshine, you know that?”

“I do now,” you quip, kissing his nose as he grins.

“Good,” he kisses you deeper, pulling your focus to his lips as he grips his leaking cock and lines himself up, letting your slick coat his tip as he pressed forward a little.

The sting is a bit sharper than you expected. Gasping into the kiss and making him pause as he checks on you.

“M’fine,” you’re forced to verbally assure, least he stop and you wouldn’t put it past him to do so.

“You tell me if I’m hurting you, promise?” You nod, doing your best now not to let even a peep even as you feel the stretch and burn of him pushing inside. It doesn’t hurt but it’s a strangely new sensation as your muscles spasm and clench around the hard cock splitting you open.

“So tight,” your eyes lock onto his ruined expression, taunt and twisted as he whines, finally letting his tip press up against your cervix where you’re left out of breath and panting. He bites his bottom lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood as he waits, because that’s what it said online and he’d be damned if he hurt you by being impatient.

It’s you who has to initiate movement, wrapping your arms around his neck as the burn inside you fades and the need for friction increases, your hips moving and cunt clamping down. It drags another hissed moan from his lips, his hips automatically bucking a little and making your voice mimic his.

“Yeah? Feel good sunshine?” He’s breathless, already close to an orgasm but refusing to give in before you do. You nod, clinging to him and the feeling of being so full and pressed against his hard body as he begins to rock into you.

“You feel so good, made for me aren’t you baby? Made for my cock.” You aren’t ready for his words as you shiver, his thrusts slow but gaining in power as you relax and allow him in deeper. “You sound like it feels good, should I go faster?” He’s speeding up before you even nod, delirious and pussy drunk as he holds you close, arms around your back and head as he pants into your ear, licking the shell and moaning for you as you mewl and lock your legs around his waist.

You feel the coil winding up in a new way, less noticeable at first but building and drawing your attention as you begin really crying out. His cock slamming into you, hitting inside just right that it leaves you scrambling for even a single thought as pleasure consumes you both. He’s lost in you more so, overcome with delight and pleasure as he ruts into you. His focus only on getting you to come so he can too, his energy mounting despite his strenuous efforts.

“M-Mirio~ m’gonna— again, oh please, I need—,” your voice is hoarse as you cry and moan for him, babbling adorably as you try and plead for him to give it you. To let you cum for him.

“Fuck, you need to cum? Go ahead sunshine, all over my cock, cum for me.” He’s smiling but it’s more of a flash of canines as he moves a hand between you, thumbing at your clit and giving you the final push over the edge as you do cum. “Inside me, cum inside,” your voice has him losing reason as he fucks you. Balls slapping at your ass as he pumps himself into you fast and hard now. Pussy gripping him as he moans, crying out into your throat as he finishes right behind you. Spilling his hot load deep into you, but his hips don’t still.

“Fuck fuck, you feel so good, so good sunshine, fuck, could die like this, so good,” he’s senseless, coming apart as he just keeps moving.

“M-Mirio—,” it’s too much.

His cock doesn’t soften. His hips working in short hard thrusts but they’re beginning to lengthen you realize. The pleasure is blinding but as it drags on, you panic, stuttering through your words as you try to grab his attention.

His eyes are half lidded, hair covering one up as he licks his lips and focuses down where you’re both joined. Mesmerized by how your little cunt takes his cock, how wet you are, how good you feel.

“S’too much!” You sink your nails into his forearms, but he’s just fucking you harder, moaning and losing himself as you feel another orgasm approaching. “Mirio please I can’t—oh, wait I— hah, please!” You feel light headed as he continues pounding and screwing you stupid, your body jerking a bit with the force of his thrusts as he grips you tight to keep you from getting away. You realize he’s mumbling under his breath, sweat dripping down his face and body as he works you both into overstimulation and another orgasm.

“Gonna fill you up, fuck, see you dripping my cum for days, fuck,” he’s unfocused as he sits up, pulling you almost into his lap as he grips your hips and angles them to better sink into you.

“m’coming—!” your vision goes dark for a moment as you’re wracked with another orgasm so close to the last, losing logic as he keeps going, moaning and whining as he grits his teeth and comes again soon after.

“Shit, I’m coming,” he nearly crushes you with his weight as he once more pulls you to his chest. This time he stills, and you feel his cock twitch every few seconds, his warm cum painting your walls as he kisses your neck and face. Your tired limp body in his arms too weak to really reciprocate much.

“Thank you baby, so good for me…” you’re ready for sleep to pull you under as Mirio showers you with affection, but your eyes snap open in panic as his deflated cock starts to harden again. “Fuck just need you one more time… one more…” you whine, hand pushing as his face but his hips are already moving and sliding his thick cock out of you before pushing in.

“Mirio—,”

“One more time, you can do one more for me right sunshine?” His soft eyes, sweet smile, so charming and disarming. You nod unconsciously, not understanding your tired mistake until he’s flipping you on your stomach and pulling your hips up, realization dawning as he slams back inside and leaves you reeling. “Fuck, thank you baby, so tight shit,” he’s gone.

You learned two things that night.

Mirio is a liar, and one more meant three more… and he gives incredible massages, which you found out in the morning after you woke up sore and angry.

[jasmines-library]

hihihhiihhihi!!

can i send in a request for remus lupin x ditzy!reader?

like remus is trying to do his hw for an exam the next day and reader keeps bothering him for attention and he’s just like “no i’m busY for a test tomorrow” and reader is like “well you can study for it some other time tomorrow” n he’s just like “what?”

it’s okay if you don’t understand it lmao

Talk now, Study Later

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Warnings: none! Fluffy

Word Count: 900 (on the short side, im sorry. It's worth it though for the fluff i promise.)

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Remus was busy studying. Or rather trying to. He was hunched over the desk, quill in hand as he read over his notes from class. Slughorn had decided to give all of his classes a test, and it seemed to be taking up all of Remus’ spare time. It felt as though he had been hunched over that little desk for much longer than a few hours as his back began to ache. Still, he made no move to leave as he tried to cram in as much revision as he could. 

You weren’t doing him many favours. You had been watching him from across his room for a while now. You had tried to drag him away from his desk a few times, and each time he responded by telling you that he just needed five more minutes to finish up. At first you had humoured him, but you could see the toll it was taking on him and much more to the point: you missed him. 

“Remuusss.” you whined his name from where you lay on his bed. 

He somewhat hummed in acknowledgement. 

“I’m lonely.” You told him. “Come and sit with me.” You patted the space beside you. 

Remus frowned, sweeping his hair away from his eyes as he continued to write. “I can’t. Dove. I need to study for my test tomorrow.”

You pouted with a sigh, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the canopy. You could still hear the scratching of his quill as the room fell back into silence again. You were half tempted to snatch the quill out of his hand…you had tried that once before. It didn’t end too well on your behalf. It ended with spilt ink and a trip to the house elves to see if they would kindly get the ink out of your shirt. Another few minutes passed of you waiting for your boyfriend, until you finally couldn’t wait any longer. 

Clambering off the bed, you stood behind him sliding your arms over his shoulders and around his neck.You rested your chin on top of his head.  He glanced up at you, craning his head to see you properly.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing” You sang. 

He gave you a look out of the corner of his eye. One that told you that he knew exactly what you were up to. “Y/n.”

“What? Can’t a girl hug her boyfriend anymore? I thought you liked my hugs, Moony?”

“I do-” he sighed, “But I need to study, Dove.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You can study for it tomorrow.”

Remus frowned, his scars and freckles shifting as he made confused lines on his face. “What?”

“Please Rem?” You asked, moving around to face him. You straddled his lap and he gave you an unamused look. Cupping his face in your hands, you smoothed your thumb over his skin, tracing the length of his scar over his cheek and down to his lips. “Take a break.”

You leaned forward onto his chest, burying your face into his neck. He was warm and he smelt faintly of earl grey tea, part of the remnants from the mug he had left to get cold, pine and his favourite chocolates that he always had stashed in his pockets. You closed your eyes, relaxing into him. 

He sighed, leaning into your touch before pressing a kiss to your head. You perked up looking up at him as he dropped his quill, setting it down besides his pages of loose notes. 

“You’re going to be the absolute death of me,” Remus chuckled lowly. “You know that.”

You grinned. “You know you love me.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m not sure I will when I fail this test.”

You pouted, to which he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to them softly. “I’m only messing with you, Dove.”

“I know.” You hummed. “I just wanted you to kiss me.”

“You little minx.” Remus laughed, lacing his arms around your back.

“Only for you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that right?” Remus smirked, trailing a finger along the bridge of your nose as you traced the pattern on his jumper. It was green and hand knitted by a vendor in Hogsmeade. The two of you were passing by when you saw his eyes light up when he saw it. He had considered it for a while, passing the wool between his fingers. It was silky soft with dainty stitches that interlocked with other colours to create rows of shapes. In the end, he had opted not to buy it. But you had seen the way he had sent time pondering over it, so the next day you went back and bought it for him. That night you left it on his bed as a gift alongside some of his favourite chocolates that you had snagged from honeydukes. He put it on straight away, claiming that it was now his favourite sweater. He wore it all the time, and you liked the way that it brought out the different hues in his eyes. That and it smelt like him. Often he would find you wearing it whenever it went missing from his trunk. Not that he ever minded. 

Remus kissed you again. “I love you.”

“Me too, Moony. I love you very much.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MARAUDERS TAGS:

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[avenging-fandoms]

I’m obsessed w everything you write. Have you seen the interview with Pedro where he calls the interview mama? I need a fic of this. I simply cannot handle it.

You wrapped yourself in your fluffy ankle length robe and slid on your slippers, tying the string around your waist and heading down the stairs. "Mornin' mama, you sleep good?"

Pedro had his coffee mug gripped in his right hand and left arm extended, wrapping around your back and pulling you into his side as he kissed the top of your head. Your arms wrap around his ribs and lay your head on his chest for a few seconds for giving him a kiss. "Alright. I had a nightmare and was up for a couple hours"

You pulled away to make your mug and grabbed your “wife” cup, the cup Pedro used to propose to you one early morning just the two of you.

“Again? I told you if it happens again to wake me up so I can help you” Pedro steps behind you and mumbled his words against your neck and placed his hand on your stomach from behind.

“I know but I didn’t want to, you looked so peaceful and you had a busy day, I didn’t want to bother you” you shrug and put the pot back in the machine and Pedro pushes his hand up over your chest and to your neck, putting his index fingers on the left side of your jaw and thumb on the right.

“I don’t care how I look, you wake me up. You could never bother, honey” he hums and kisses you softly, his hand moving down to hold your neck while gripping a bit.

Your hand reached up and held the back of his head, sighing into the kiss. Pedro pulled away and you stood back up, adding your things and heading to the couch. You grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, pushing your legs out onto the cushions.

Pedro lifted your legs and sat under them, placing your knees on his lap with his mug on your thigh. You pick a Disney movie and Pedro smiles, taking a sip and setting it on the table.

His hand rubs up and down your thigh, and eventually he laid his head on your stomach with his arms wrapped around your leg. His lips left gentle, tickling kisses on your inner thigh and you shiver. "You alright mama?" he asks, placing a kiss on your thigh as he looks at you.

"Get up here" you smile and he holds your waist as you kiss him, wrapping a leg around his waist. "And stop calling me that name" you breathe as he kisses your neck, your fingers gripping and pulling up his shirt

"I like seeing your reaction when I call you it. Don't you like it, mama?" he smiles and you groan, kissing him again and pulling him into your body and he laughs.

[toomuchracket]

promises to keep (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)

matty made a promise to do something for you before you dated, and this is what happens when an opportunity to fulfil it arises once you're together - kinda sorta a sequel to this, but can be read standalone. day 4 of valentine's week. enjoy <3

“matthew? have you got a minute?”

shit. the full name. 

gritting his teeth in a grimace, matty puts down his guitar and follows your voice. “coming now, sweetheart.”

“much appreciated,” comes your tetchy reply. matty winces, wracking his brain in an attempt to figure out why you're not best pleased with him right now, but he comes up short.

he gets it as soon as he enters the kitchen, though; the french press in your hand - and the grumpiness on your pretty, sleepy face - reminds him of everything he needs to know. it also almost manages to stop matty from missing the fact you’re wearing his glassjaw hoodie, a pair of fluffy socks, and very little else. almost. “ah, fuck.”

“indeed,” you say, putting the cafetiere on the counter and frowning (quite adorably, to be honest) at your boyfriend. “actually, that was my exact phrasing when i came in here for a coffee, only to find that the grounds from the last cup hadn't been emptied.”

“m'sorry, baby,” matty moves to hug you.

you, however, have other ideas, and put your arm out to keep him back. “nope! no chance! absolutely not! you can't boyfriend your way out of this one, healy, this is a flatmate issue.”

matty sighs, but he can't exactly argue - the rules on emptying the coffee grounds have been finite since you moved in, the only way to ensure two caffeine-dependent people could cohabit in relative peace. “you're right. i really am sorry, darlin - let me clean it out now, and i'll make you a coffee, yeah?”

“thank you,” your face softens, into the cheeky smirk that never fails to make matty's heart feel funny. “would you make me a bit of toast, too, while you're at it?”

“it'll cost you a kiss, that one.”

“s'pose i could fork out for that,” you wrap your arms around matty's neck, hands sliding home into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. he dips you as you make out, like the two of you are lovers in an old hollywood romance film, and you giggle against his lips as he gently pulls you back to stand. “that was fun!”

“i was kinda scared i'd drop you, i won't lie.”

you laugh, ruffling matty's hair before taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “i would've dragged you with me if you had.”

“i'd expect nothing less,” he smiles, rinsing the coffee grounds from the press and holding it up to the light to check its cleanliness, before popping two slices of bread in the toaster. “what d'you want on your toast, by the way, babe?”

“hmm,” you tilt your head. “do we still have nutella?”

matty squints as he wracks his brain, then rummages around in one of the cupboards. “aha!” he emerges triumphant, almost-empty jar in hand. “enough for toast. but i'll need to get more before the weekend.”

“why? you don't even like it that much.”

“well, what else am i going to put on your valentine’s breakfast pancakes?”

you beam. “am i getting breakfast in bed?”

“course you are,” matty runs over to kiss your nose. “you're getting spoiled, sweetheart.”

“so are you. i was gonna keep it a surprise, but…” you pause dramatically. “i bought new lingerie.”

he drops the butter knife in shock. it hits the countertop with a clatter, and his head almost follows suit. “fuck,” he croaks out. “what colour?”

“dark red. your favourite,” you smile. “i look really sexy in it.”

“i bet you do, baby,” matty sighs happily, pouring coffee into your favourite mug. “can't wait to get into that hotel room and take it off you.”

“me either. and thank you for organising all that, my love. m’excited,” you smile, leaning up to kiss matty as he brings your breakfast over. “thank you for this, too. love you.”

“love you,” he kisses you again. “bring it to the living room? wanna cuddle.”

you nod, picking up your mug and plate and following matty through. he settles on the sofa first, arranging the blankets draped over it and taking your plate from you as you snuggle into his arms. with a kiss to your head, he flicks the tv on, and the two of you sit in contented silence for a little while - with the exception of you crunching your toast - watching animal park. 

matty nudges you when the camera zooms in on a pair of lions curled up together on a rock. “us.”

“really?” you snort, putting your plate on the coffee table. “you think we're lions?”

“yeah. you're the brains behind everything, and i just chill out and have really cool hair.”

you laugh, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing it. “you're an idiot, healy.”

“but i'm your idiot. and i'm right,” matty looks down at you, grinning. “and you've got a little bit of nutella on your lip. here, let me,” he leans down and kisses it away. “there.”

“thanks, lover,” you stretch, snuggling back into your boyfriend with a sigh. “the lions are boring me a bit now, though. what else is on?”

“hmm, let's see,” matty clicks through channels, watching each for a couple of seconds before continuing to search - only when a familiar shot of a girl curled up in a chair reading the bell jar appears does he stop. “oh! babe, look! 10 things!”

“aww, i love this film,” you curl up even further into him, playing with the neck of his t-shirt. “remember when we watched this together in my room?”

matty's voice is quiet when he answers, but you can hear him smile. “thought about it every day since we did, darlin.”

he grins bashfully when you turn to look at him, open-mouthed. you smile, too, so sweetly that it hurts his heart. “same. it was all i ever wanted, to be so intimate like that with you,” you reach up to stroke his face. “best feeling in the world, knowing i get to do it for real now.”

all matty can do is softly hold your face and kiss you, until he runs out of breath and has to pull away from your chocolate-flavoured lips; even then, though, he keeps his hands on your jaw, and murmurs against your lips. “my dream girl. m'so in love with you.”

“i love you so much,” you whisper. “d'you wanna keep watching this, then?”

“course. rite of passage, innit?” your boyfriend grins, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. you turn to kiss him softly once more, then rest your head against his chest and look at the screen. 

the time passes a lot like it did the last time you and matty did this, but instead of mutual pining and an undercurrent of sadness knowing you weren't really together, it's just completely… lovely. you press kisses to each other's heads and hands and lips, and just bask uninterrupted in the love evident between the two of you in the room. aside from the kisses, you don't even move.

that is, until the scene matty knows is your favourite begins. he grins, shifting you slightly further up on his lap so he can look at you properly, and begins to sing into your ear along with heath ledger onscreen. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you…”

your cheeks lift into a smile, and matty can practically feel the heat radiating off them. but still, you keep your eyes on the tv, the only proper acknowledgement of matty's singing being the way you softly squeeze his thigh.

“... you'd be like heaven to touch, i wanna hold you so much,” he continues, resting his head against yours and smiling when you giggle, then taking your hand. “at long last love has arrived, and i thank god i'm alive,” he moves his hand up to gently turn your head, singing the last bit to your adorably flustered smiling face. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.”

you laugh joyously when he stops singing - the best sound matty thinks he's ever heard - and pull him into a kiss. “you're serenading me?!”

“you asked me to, first time we watched this,” matty smiles warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “and i promised you i would.”

“i did?” your brow furrows so cutely. “you did?”

“just as you fell asleep. therefore,” he grins, taking a deep breath before literally belting. “i love you, baby, and if it's quite alright i need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. i love you, baby - trust in me when i say…”

you beam, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying as you join in the song. “oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, i pray,” the two of you giggle as you sing, and matty's never been so in love in his life. “oh, pretty baby, now that i've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you.”

as your voices fade out, matty leans forward and kisses you chastely; he beams and caresses your cheek when he pulls back. “thank you for letting me keep my promise. and for singing with me - that was lovely. should get you on the next album.”

“no, i think i'm content with just singing to you at home,” you smile, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you for doing that for me. always found it really romantic, that scene and that song. but you know how i am about pda, so what you just did was really perfect,” you kiss him again. “i honestly can't remember you making that promise, though.”

“i think you had already fallen asleep on me, darlin,” matty giggles. “but i wanted to keep it, anyway. and speaking of promises to keep,” his face goes a bit more serious, but still tender, as he picks up your left hand and kisses your ring finger - your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening and welling up. “gonna marry you someday. i mean it.”

you nod, a teary smile on your beautiful face, and pull him into a hug. “i can't wait.”

[callsign-venus]

Put a Bow on It | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You find out that Bradley's present-wrapping skills are... less than stellar, so it's up to you to save Christmas.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few very light sexual references, incompetence of a grown man, fluffy fluff fluff

a/n: Thank you for the love on my previous posts — I’m really thankful to everyone who reads my silly little stories. Hope y’all enjoy this one, Merry Christmas!

“You can’t look at me like that,” Bradley says.

“Like what?” You ask, though you know exactly what he means.

It’s not that you mean to look at him with such pity, but who can blame you?

You weren’t exactly sure how he got himself into such a mess when you were only in the kitchen making coffees. Wedged between a stack of boxed Barbies and no less than 12 rolls of wrapping paper scattered across your living room floor, Bradley looks less competent aviator and more like an unsupervised 5th grader. Tattered strips of Santa wrapping paper curl around him, scraps of tape line both of his exposed thighs, and he’s so flustered he hasn’t even removed the bright red bow you tied around his head earlier. You both look down at the lumpy present sitting on the rug in front of him. For all his efforts, it wasn’t a spectacular result. 

“You did great.” You have to hide your face with a drawn-out sip of coffee because you know if he catches a glimpse of your expression, he will call you out for your bald-faced lie.

He can tell anyway. “I’m not sure lying is the best way to get on the nice list.”

You do feel bad. It was your idea to get involved in the neighborhood toy drive, and despite his protests, you pleaded for Bradley to help.

“It will be fun,” you said before kissing his pouty lips. “I’ll make us coffees and you can light a fire and it’ll be so festive.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he cupped your face with his hands, “but I’m not lying when I say I can’t wrap a present to save my life.”

“You’ll do great.” You gave him another quick kiss and considered the matter over.

So, he didn’t do great. Could you really blame him? He tried to let you know beforehand, and it’s not like his military career was spent doing arts and crafts. You take another sip of your coffee before setting both mugs down and padding over to sit on the floor next to him.

“Am I off the wrapping duties?” He gives you a lopsided smile and slides his hand around your waist.

“You wish.” You reach over his lap and undo his wrapping job. “Get ready to learn a thing or two.”

He laughs when you use his own words against him, as you have throughout your entire relationship.

When you two weren’t yet dating – but still very much infatuated with each other – Bradley used pool as an excuse to get close to you, though no excuses were needed. You were putty in his hands already.

“Get ready to learn a thing or two,” he’d murmured in your ear. It was a Friday evening and The Hard Deck was packed, so he had to get close — mustache-ticking-your-ear close — so you could hear him over the rowdy crowd of sailors. And he was teaching you how to make a combination shot, so he had to wrap his arms around you so he could guide you through the motions. And you were a receptive student, so you had to lean against him so he could feel the curve of your ass — just so he knew his technique was working.

Now, nearly a year later on the rug of your living room, you slide up behind Bradley like he did that Friday night, your fingers gliding down his thick biceps towards his hands. They’re huge under yours, earning a laugh from both of you.

“Sweet girl, I’m not sure this is gonna work,” he says as you rest your chin on his shoulder. The curled ribbon from the bow in his hair tickles your check.

“Well, I know how to play pool thanks to this little trick. I’m sure I can use it to teach you how to wrap a present.”

You guide one of his hands toward the pair of scissors and another towards the pile of wrapping paper.

“Since I’m a great teacher, I’ll even let you pick which paper to use,” you say.

He lingers over the rolls for a moment, ultimately choosing a cranberry red paper with prints of cars carrying snow-dusted Christmas trees.

“Ok, now let’s roll it out. Look at me, Bradley.”

He pulls back a little so you can make complete eye contact. Even after months of dating, his warm brown eyes undo something in you, leaving you feeling like you’re brushing shoulders with the clouds. How did you ever get so lucky?

“It’s very important to measure the paper before cutting,” your voice softens as you drop the strict teacher act. “Put the Barbie at the edge of the wrapping paper, then you kinda fold up the other edge and see if it’s long enough.”

He takes a moment to soak you in before he can bring his attention back to the present. Up close, he can fully appreciate the graceful curve of your lips, the exact shade of your eyes. In the weepy, late morning sunlight, you are radiant.

The fire crackles in the background. The only other sound is your synchronous breathing.

You lean in slightly. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but I promised Cathy that we’d deliver the presents by 2, so you need to get moving.”

“You should boss me around more often.” He stares at you for a second longer before turning his attention back to the present.

You’re glad he turns around so he can’t witness the violent shade of red your face flushes — nearly as red as the wrapping paper.

Once the paper’s measured, you show him how to cut it with one swooshing glide of the scissors.

“It’s like I’m a professional,” he says.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” You squeeze his hands gently. “We’ve still got to tape this sucker up.”

He groans as you peel the scraps of tape off his thigh.

“How did you even do this to yourself?” You collect all the tape into one big wad. “You’re a grown man”

He shrugs. “I guess my mom was gone before she could teach me.”

At the mention of his mom, your heart melts. What you wouldn’t give to have her here for him, to walk him through this process he should have learned years ago. To spend another Christmas with her boy. You run your fingers through his sun-lightened locks. One night when you two first started dating, you sat on your porch alone. Under soft-falling moonlight, you promised Carole that you’d be there for her son; promised her that she and Goose could count on you to make sure he’d always be ok.

Something in Bradley’s face makes you think you were doing just fine on your promise. You can’t help the heat that rises to your checks when you catch him staring at you.

Then, with a mischievous smile, he swipes the tape wad from you, aims it, and launches it right at your face.

You try to get mad, to lecture him about the children who will be let down on Christmas morning without their Barbie doll, but the grin on his lips washes away any amount of anger you could dredge up. He wags his eyebrows and you can’t contain your laughter as it spills out of you and fills up the living room.

“You can’t be trusted with this dangerous weapon.” You grab the tape dispenser and wipe a tear from your eye. “I’ll rip the tape for you so you can just focus on folding.”

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m actually trusted with dangerous weapons daily at work.”

You roll your eyes, but to his credit, Bradley is willing to learn. You gently guide him through the folds, but he picks it up pretty quick given that he doesn’t have to juggle the wrapping paper and the tape.

“That’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He holds up the present, admiring the sharp folds and the perfectly festive wrapping paper. “And I’ve got the perfect girl to thank.”

You dodge his incoming kiss, instead patting his cheek and standing up.

His brows knot in confusion before he realizes what you’ve gotten up to retrieve: a roll of velvety green ribbon.

You hold it up triumphantly. “One final touch.”

The absolute pain on his face steals the grin off yours.

You sink back down to the floor and wrap him tight in your arms, sliding your hand up his back to rub circles between his shoulders.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs against your chest, “I really don’t have that in me.”

You kiss the top of his head. If Bradley draws the line here, you’re more than happy to finish the wrapping. Hell, you’d even lace his fucking shoes if it spared him the torture of tying any more bows. You are head-over-heels for Bradley Bradshaw, and you know he knows it. It’s a good thing he’s equally head-over-heels for you.

“Ok, Bradshaw, I’ll tie the bow, but I’ll need a little help.” You break away from him and begin unspooling the ribbon. “I know your mom taught you this.”

And he smiles because he knows what’s coming.

You twist the ribbon around the package, cross-crossing it over the top. You look to him, and already he’s jumping into action. He ceremoniously raises a finger and plants it perfectly on the intersection of the ribbon.

“Perfect.” You steadily finish the bow. It’s really good, you have to admit: entirely symmetrical, huge and bouncy like a cartoon.

And then Bradley is on top of you, pulling you into his lap, smushing kisses along your jaw, working his way to your lips. His kisses are hungry, but not sinfully so. You’re hungry too. Hungry to share the rest of your lives together. To wrap presents for your kids on Christmas Eve while they pretend to be asleep down the hall. To savor early Christmas mornings in matching pajamas, sipping hot chocolate while a fire sings in the hearth. Late Christmas evenings where he pulls you into his lap on the piano bench and plays your favorite carols — a little sloppily from the spiked eggnog and having to reach around you. 

“I’m not in your way?” You would ask, already knowing his answer.

“No, you are right where you need to be.”

And he would play long into the night, celebrating the fact that he gets to spend Christmas with his sweet girl. No December 26th would pass without you waking up to find you had both lost your voices.

Your phone rings, rudely barging into your domestic dreams of the future. You’re tempted to ignore it, but Bradley accepts the call and brings it to your ear, leans his forehead against yours.

“Hey, Cathy,” you say.

“Is there any chance you can get the presents here sooner?” You and Bradley can both hear how harried the toy drive organizer sounds. “Sorry to even ask, you know I appreciate you, but some paperwork got messed up and —”

“Sure thing, don’t worry about it.” You break in to spare her the breath.

“Thank you,” she says. “And bring that sailor of yours, too. I might need help loading the truck.”

You laugh. “I’ll make sure to bring him along.”

“Thank you so much, sweetie. See ya soon.”

“See you soon.” You hang up your phone and toss it on the floor.

You peck Bradley on the check.  “Ok, ready to put those new skills to good use?”

“Ready.” He smiles and runs his hands through your hair. “Ready to do anything for you.”

You scramble out of his lap because if he keeps looking at you like that, you definitely won’t get the presents to Cathy on time.

You turn on the TV and fetch your still-steaming coffees from the table. Quickly, you and Bradley settle into an easy wrapping rhythm, the hum of a carol floating out of your TV, accompanied by the silent promise of all your Christmases — and many wrapped presents — to come.

[rachalixie]

a/n: happy birthday to my beautiful jade @tasteleeknow my heart my soul my shared brain cell i love you dearly i hope you have the absolute best day <3

you wake up to the sun for the first time in a while, no alarm there to jolt you from whatever rest your body catches onto for the night. your senses come to you one by one, the warmth of the sunlight peeking through the blinds, the softness of your duvet, the sound of pans and pattering feet eching softly from outside, creating a disjointed melody you would never get tired of hearing. it’s a song you’re used to in the mornings, but somehow it feels more special, more personal, today.

you take your time stretching yourself awake, brushing your teeth, taming your wild bed-mussed hair into something presentable before exiting your room. you’re immediately attacked with a wall of delicious scent, and you find yourself gaping before you even take a glance at the magnificent (and somewhat unnecessary, given that there’s only two of you) spread of food he’s presented on the table. and him, wearing a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt whose sleeves are too long for his arms and he has to keep pushing them back to have his hands free.

his eyes find yours almost immediately as he turns around, leaving behind the plate he was adjusting for the fifth time, like he can sense your presence in the room even though you’ve made no sound. there’s tiny galaxies swimming in his irises as he takes you in, the fondness clear as day through his wide smile.

“happy birthday, mine,” he croons, bouncing over to wrap strong arms around your entire body, trapping your arms against you as he practically lifts you up in his death squeeze. you blame that on the way your breath is taken away, but you know deep down that getting to see him in the morning does it to you every day, whether it’s waking up to him sleeping next to you or seeing him drowsy and squinty eyed as he makes coffee for both of you.

and the name he calls you, mine. a blatant display of his possessiveness for you, proof that he feels just as strongly for you as you do him, four letters that never fail to make your heart sing.

“you didn’t have to do all this for me,” you mumble when he lets you go, flattered and a bit embarrassed but so, so happy. there’s tall stacks of pancakes dotted with berries, fluffy eggs and crispy bacon, seared tomatoes and cut up fruit and steaming mugs with beautiful latte art decorated with care. it’s too much, just enough, all at once and your heart squeezes again in your chest.

“you didn’t have to do all this for me,” you mumble when he lets you go, flattered and a bit embarrassed but so, so happy. there’s tall stacks of pancakes dotted with berries, fluffy eggs and crispy bacon, seared tomatoes and cut up fruit and steaming mugs with beautiful latte art decorated with care. it’s too much, just enough, all at once and your heart squeezes again in your chest.

“of course i did,” he says, voice strong and adamant with a twist of shyness. “it’s for you. even this is not enough.”

and that’s it, isn’t it? his gentle love language, the way he pours his love into the things he does for you, in the ways he can’t explain with his words because he doesn’t know how. the way he presents you with things and massages and hugs, almost expecting rejection and lighting up when you do anything but that. hiding his pleased expression with sarcastic quips that you can see right through. you want to tell him that he could have presented you with a soggy piece of bread and you would still feel this way, special and important and loved.

you raise your hands to cup his cheeks instead, your language for him, and caress his cheekbones with your thumbs. his big eyes shine at you as if he’s looking at the sun, straight on and unblinking like he knows he might go blind but he doesn’t care one bit. he turns his head in your hands to press a kiss to one palm reverently, then the other, the only gift you want or need from him given so early in the day (although, you’ve seen the wrapped box he poorly hid in your shared closet days ago and chose to ignore it for his sake).

he leads you to the table, helping you sit before taking the seat next to you and serving you a heaping plate. you reach for your fork, but he stops you, taking his own and holding a bite out for you instead. you raise a brow at him as if to say really? but he just holds your gaze and tips the fork closer to your mouth. you let him feed you with a roll of the eyes and hold back a moan of appreciation when the pancake almost melts in your mouth, the tang of a blueberry complimenting the syrup he generously drizzled on top.

he’s smiling at you knowingly and you know you’re blushing, but you ignore him in favor of opening your mouth up for another bite, letting him take care of you.

it is your birthday, after all.

—

soft hours

[mellifiedprincess]

hi!! could you do a fluffy fic with matt where the reader is just having a rough week mentally and is overwhelmed and stops by matt’s unannounced and they cuddle and he offers to talk through things with her

hope you like it angel <3

You could see the lights on in the living room through the balcony window. Staring up at it, still sitting in your car. You’ve been staring at it for a good 10 minutes now, not really sure if you should get out or not.

You knew the boys wouldn’t care one bit that you showed up without sending a text. You knew there wouldn’t be anything but concern in the eyes of your boyfriend and his two brothers.

Yet, you still couldn’t bring yourself to get out of your car and knock on their door.

Another 5 minutes pass and you finally bring yourself to make the trek to the front door. The wood feels cool against the heat of your knuckles as you knock. You’re not really sure if anyone could even hear the soft taps from inside.

Chris does though. As he opens the door, you see a look of surprise on his face for a few seconds before he kindly smiles at you. He was always happy to see one of his best and closest friends. But then he sees the defeated look on your face. “Matt’s in his room. I’m here too if you need me to be.” The kind words of Chris almost breaks the dam that you’ve been trying so hard to keep patched up.

“Thanks Chrissy.” You simply say before giving him a hug and making your way up the stairs, needing the comforting embrace of Matt more than anything right now.

When you finally make it to Matt’s door, you can hear the soft clicks of his keyboard.

Closing your eyes to gather yourself, you open his door and see the soft curls of the boy you’ve been longing for, sat at his desk. His headphones sit on his ears as he continues to type away, probably answering emails for brand deals and whatnot. His eyes meet yours as he takes notice to his door being open, and once again you see a look of surprise.

He quickly removes the headphones, and checks his phone to see if he missed any calls or texts from you. When he sees no new notifications he places it back down.

“What’s wrong baby?” His voice is soft and calm, because he could already tell, just by the way you walked in, you were slowly breaking down. “Come here.” He reaches his hand out for yours and pulls you down into his lap as soon as you grab onto it.

You’re silent, not sure where to start, so you blankly stare into his eyes. Eyes that stare back at you with a look of worry and concern.

“I-um.” You clear your throat, trying to vacate the emotions bubbling in your chest. Tears threatening to spill over your waterline as you look at your boyfriend’s sweet face.

“Hey, take your time angel. I’m not going anywhere.” Matt’s thumb moves to swipe along your cheek, his worry only growing more at the stress his girlfriend is clearly under.

He knew she was overwhelmed by everything going on in her life right now. Her new job, in the middle of her last year of college, being away from her friends and family. “You wanna just sit here while I finish these few emails? Then we can lay in bed and talk.”

“That sounds nice.” You answer in a small voice, smiling gratefully at the sweetheart that is your boyfriend.

After the last email is answered, Matt stands with you still in his arms and carries to you his bed.

“I’ll be right back.” He quickly kisses your lips, and turns to exit his bedroom, leaving you to your racing thoughts.

And it felt like hours. It was only 10 minutes.

When he finally makes his return, he’s carrying a cup of something steaming and a bowl of ice cream, that looks like it could rival mount everest.

“One cup of hot chocolate for my sweetheart.” He states as he hands you a baby pink mug adorned with tiny white daisies. “Sorry it took so long. I had to fight Nick for the ice cream.”

“I can see who won. Did you even leave any for him?” You softly laugh and see a smile creep its way onto Matt’s face. An unexplainable amount of happiness fluttering in his chest at the sound of your giggles.

“Moving on.” He quickly places his bowl of ice cream down, before climbing into bed beside you. Wasting no time on wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to rest flush against his side. “Wanna watch Tangled?”

“Yes please!” You reply and take a sip of the hot chocolate, all of your worries starting to melt away.

Matt looks down as you let out a long sigh, not sure if you were okay or not. It was a sigh of contentment though, because it didn’t matter how horribly your day could have gone, Matt knew exactly what you needed. Always.

“Hey. I love you sweetheart.” He whispers quietly and places a kiss to your hairline, as he watches your eyes slightly squeeze shut.

“I love you too.”

Your body melts into his side as the sounds of Tangled begin to play, and soon your mind just shuts off completely. All thanks to the wonderful human that you get to call yours.