#fic: sunday morning

[hoonatic]

sunday mornings | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: sunday mornings are best spent slowly. but there are sheets to be changed and a beautiful boyfriend to stare at. pairing: idol!sunghoon x reader (established relationship) genre: domestic fluff + some hurt/comfort. it was only supposed to be tooth-rotting sweetness, but the sad demons within me won a bit, i fear. word count: 1364 note: this was also supposed to be shorter than it is, but what can i say? i’m a yapper. (also can’t believe i’m writing a fic again but needed to get this one out i guess) enjoy!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the sun had risen, but you certainly hadn’t.

after weeks apart, you finally had your boyfriend back in your shared apartment, in your shared bed. it was a sunny, summer morning with no (real) responsibilities to take care of. you were happy, drowsy, and with the love of your life. you just wanted to bask in the moment.

“baby, get up. i need to change the sheets.”

sunghoon obviously did not share the sentiment.

you ignored the slight tugging at your sleeve, choosing to flail your body and turning back to him dramatically. you knew you’d regret that soon enough, given the unhinged level of impatience your boyfriend had. but if it got you a few more seconds of peace, then so be it.

a loud screech of your name and one “wake upppp!!!” later, you felt the regret seeping into every pore of your body.

“hoon, it’s so early. please…”

“it’s almost 9:30. i’ve already showered and i’m all ready to spend the day with you!”

as you continued to ignore him, the tugging became more and more aggressive. soon enough, you felt your entire upper body being lifted. but two could play the petty game - you kept your eyes shut, refusing to look at the thief stealing your sleep.

“baby, how could you rob me of seeing your beautiful eyes?”

“i dunno, maybe the same way you’re robbing me of my beauty rest???”

“beauty rest??? if you get any more beautiful, i’ll have to start dressing you in full-body armor.”

the cringe made you peek open an eye, “you’ve been spending way too much time with heeseung.” but all you could see was his big grin.

“maybe so, but it finally got you to open your eyes, so the full-body chills saying that gave me were worth it.”

“hoon,” you groaned and closed your eyes again, “i just changed the sheets last week. i can change them tomorrow or something if you really want. you don’t want to just laze around together today?”

he didn’t respond as quickly as you’d expect. the silence forced your eyes open - he was biting his lip and staring at you with an unreadable expression. but before you could ask what was wrong, he spoke first,

“that’s exactly it though…”

“what do you mean?” you were fully awake now.

“you spend enough time alone, maintaining this home,” he started, “i’m away all the time and i haven’t been able to help out. this is one of the rare chances to finally start pulling my weight around here. please let me have this?”

you could start to see the guilt swimming around in his eyes and you hated it. “hoon, you act like you’re a deadbeat boyfriend leaving me to do everything alone. baby, you have a job that you love, are amazing at, and that pays our bills. if that means i have to do the sheets, that’s okay.” 

“but you have a job too.”

“because i’m stupid and want to work. seriously hoon, don’t let these things bother you. you give me everything and more than i could ever ask for. we are in this together.” you were stroking his cheek at this point. seemingly satisfied with your response, he nuzzled into your hand, grateful for the comfort.

“are you feeling a little better at least?” you asked, voice patient and hopeful. he nodded and turned to kiss your palm, making you giggle a bit at the ticklish contact. he then shook his dark hair, damp locks lightly spraying you before suddenly pulling you out of bed.

“i’m feeling amazing and like i can take on the world…which includes these bedsheets! now get up so i can change them quickly and spend the rest of the day spoiling you with the love and affection you’ve been starved of.”

you wanted to argue with his statement and accuse him of tricking you out of bed, but knew you shouldn’t. you understood him more than anyone in the world, so you were going to give him this…even if the bed was really, really warm.

so you got up completely, choosing to stand closely in case you could help in any way. but his notorious stubbornness fought you off, gently swatting your hand any time you tried to pry the fitted sheet up.

“baby,” he scowled at you while holding a pillow, “just stand there and look pretty. let your big ol’ boyfriend take care of this for you.”

“big???” you almost saw the moon with how far you rolled your eyes. “your biceps grow half a millimeter and suddenly you–” before you could finish your statement, you felt the impact of the pillow to your face.

“hey!”

“that’s not what your stickers were saying whenever i sent gym selfies to you.”

damn, he got you there. you kept your mouth shut, glaring at his laughing silhouette while he continued to move about. choosing peace, you decided to let that go and finally take the chance to admire your boyfriend.

not only were his arms looking magnificent with every movement he made to change the sheets, but you could just tell how he poured his heart into everything he did. from the bedsheets to his career, he never half-heartedly did anything. he was humming their latest comeback song as he took on the folding of the fitted sheet, and his pride in his passion radiated off of every cell in his body. you were so proud of him, and you could feel your own body almost burst out of pure affection.

after a few minutes, the used sheets and pillowcases were all neatly in his arms, ready for the washer. you giggled a bit before speaking, “leave it to you to make even dirty sheets look clean. i’ll start setting up the new sheets.”

you could tell he wanted to argue, but he knew better.

while he got the washer running, you finished putting down your fluffiest comforter - you had bought it while he was away. you wanted him to have the best during the well-deserved time off he had.

“hoon!” you cheered excitedly when you saw him approaching the doorway. dragging him to sit down in the middle, “try out the new sheets! i bought them for when you came back!”

sunghoon ran his hands across it and patted them a few times for good measure. wordlessly, he grabbed you by the waist and settled your body between his legs. he hugged you loosely, yet lovingly, staring up at you with his chin on your torso.

“thank you, i love you.” such simple, yet meaningful words. you felt butterflies in every corner of your soul.

after a few more comforting seconds of him playing with the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly dancing across the skin that peeked out from under it, you decided to have a bit more fun. 

you quickly took his hands off your back and pushed him to lay back into the bed. you grabbed both sides of the comforter and wrapped him up in it. the best part of it all? he just let you do it, purposely laying limp with a big, curious grin on his face.

“there!” you exclaimed, jumping onto the blanket burrito that was your boyfriend, “now you’re trapped with me forever.”

“it’s not being trapped if i want to be here.” with only his face free, sunghoon smiled up at you, fangs practically piercing your heart with love. you became too flustered to speak, so you took revenge on him instead, planting kisses all over his face.

for a second, you thought he’d shy away a bit. but instead he stuck his head out even more, turning his face to give your lips more access to any piece of untouched skin. you took advantage and continued to give loud, happy pecks, your hands squishing his face. he was finally basking in the moment you had been begging him to all morning, happiness reaching the crinkles of his eyes.

yes, the eventual tour would come soon enough to steal him away. but for now, you were content. for now, this sunday morning was for just you and him.

[soaps-mohawk]

I think I'm going to make Sundays the official CRCB update days for the time being. It's just going to be easier on me right now for a lot of reasons. So sorry to disrupt everyone's schedules, but ya know. It's my fic and I can do whatever I want.

I'm halfway joking, but seriously. In favor of my new trend of being kind to myself and making things easier on me, henceforth CRCB day shall be Sundays

[hotchscoffeecup]

banana pancakes

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: E

Category: Fluff (tooth-rotting)

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: On a Sunday morning, you wake to find Aaron making breakfast in the kitchen. He surprises you with slow dancing to old country music, Jack is cute as all get out, and of course, banana pancakes.

“Jack?” you ask groggily. You prop yourself up on your elbows and note Aaron isn’t in bed beside you. “Hey buddy, is everything ok?” You glance at your phone plugged in on the nightstand where the numbers blink back 8:37AM aka too early on a Sunday.

Jack giggles quietly. “Daddy is being silly in the kitchen.”

Knowing that could mean anything to a six year old, naturally, your brow furrows. Your lips quirk into a half smile as you regard his own happy face. “What do you mean, silly?”

Jack’s little hands fly to his mouth as he stifles another laugh. “I’m going to go play in my room!” And just like that he bounces off of the bad and darts out the door into the hallway.

Now curious, you push the sheets back and slide out of bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill passes through you. Before leaving the room, you pull on the gray cotton robe that falls to your mid-calf and tie it loosely over your sleep shirt and shorts set. As you step into the hallway, the smell of coffee and something baking fills your nostrils. Your stomach rumbles gently in response to the sweet aroma.

Quietly, you make sure way down the hall. When you’re close enough to peer into the kitchen, you lean against the doorway and watch. The stove is along the far wall, so if you’re cooking, you’re turned away from the doorway. He doesn’t see you, not at first.

Dressed only in a white t-shirt and boxers, the apron decorated with images of wine glasses on it contrasts sharply with the plaid pattern of his undergarments. George Strait is playing on the stereo. He gently shakes his hips back and forth as he quietly sings along to the country ballad. As he flips the pancakes over, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You bite your thumbnail as you watch him and when he turns around, the stunned look on his face causes you to smile even wider.

“Now how am I supposed to bring you breakfast in bed if you’re not in bed?” he questions, the dark slash of his brow arching as he regards you with warm, brown eyes.

“You can blame the little man,” you reply cheekily. “He woke me up to tell me daddy was being silly in the kitchen.”

Hotch smiles, revealing the left dimple in his cheek. “Oh yeah?” he says, tone playful as he saunters toward you. Stretching his hands out toward the ties on your robe, he takes hold of them and pulls you in toward him. Looping one arm around your waist, he uses the other to swipe at the dial on the stereo. The volume cranks up and he takes your hand in his. Turning in a slow circle, he sways to the music, pulling you along with him.

He presses a kiss to your temple and holds you close as he dances you in small circles around the kitchen. Putting a deep country vibrato into his voice, he begins to hum and sing along against your cheek.

“I cross my heart,” he sings, “and promise to, give all I’ve got to give to make your dreams come true.”

You drop your head back and laugh as he whirls you around in a dramatic arc. “Aaron!” you cry giddily.

He continues to sing. “In all the world, you’ll never find a love as true as mine.”

The acrid smell of something burning starts to singe your nostrils. “Aaron, the pancakes!”

“Oh, let them burn!” he croons.

You playfully slap at his chest before breaking free from his hold. In turn, he slaps you on the ass. You shriek gleefully and he laughs as you dash over to the stove and pull the quickly blackening pancakes off the pan. Fortunately, he has a bowl half full of batter still off to the side alongside a plate of about half a dozen perfectly golden brown pancakes.

“Daddy! Daddy!” The pitter patter of small feet slapping against the linoleum echoes as Jack tumbles into the room. Aaron grabs him around the middle and swoops him into the air.

“Hey buddy!” he greets as he kisses him on the cheek.

“Daddy, it’s our song!”

Aaron quiets for a moment as he listens to the stereo and Jack is right. The track had changed over to another George Straight song, Love Without End, Amen.

As Aaron dances Jack around the kitchen, swinging him high and low and singing lyrics fractured with laughter, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with joy.

“Daddies don’t just love their children every now and then, it’s a love without end, amen.”

You couldn’t begin to imagine a more perfect Sunday morning than this.

“It’s a love without end, amen!” Jack sing-shouts as the song comes to a close.

Aaron sets Jack down on the floor and you start to clap and cheer. “What a show!” you exclaim. “Jack, that was amazing!”

He grins sheepishly, “Thank you.” He tacks your name to the end of his thanks as he runs to the kitchen table to climb into his chair and you can’t help but feel all the more grateful in return for how much Jack has welcomed you into his little family with him and his dad.

“I’ll get the pancakes,” Aaron says with a quick peck on your cheek as he scoots past you to pick up the plate.

“I’ll get the coffee!” you say in turn and pull two mugs down from the cabinet. As you fix yours and Aaron’s (black for you and splash of milk and two sugars for him), you make sure to grab a third mug from the cabinet to make Jack a glass of chocolate milk. Drinking out of a mug while you two drank your coffee made him feel like one of the grown ups, after all.

You carefully pile all three mugs into your hands and make your way to your seat at the table. Aaron sets a plate in front of you and Jack and you serve yourself and him two pancakes each.

“Oh! Do we have any—” you start and stop as Aaron places a small bowl of sliced bananas beside your plate.

He eyes you knowingly. “You think after all this time, I’d forget your favorite?”

You cup his cheek in your hand and press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Yuck!” cries Jack as she shoves a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

“I do love banana pancakes,” you say as you scoop a spoonful onto the fluffy rounds in front of you.

Aaron hugs you from behind before taking his seat at the head of the table. “And I love you more than you love banana pancakes.”

[mikkeneko]

for some reason having a cracky svsss idea where SQQ and SQH get roaring drunk together one day and SQQ is seized with retroactive drunken outrage about the Shen Jiu/Yue Qi situation and decides something MUST BE DONE. so he borrows Xin Mo (don't worry about it) and goes on a cross-dimensional jaunt with Shang Qinghua to rescue OG Shen Qingqiu from the water prison

SJ revives just long enough to hear Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu bickering over what the hell they're supposed to do with this interdimensional refugee now, and how this was all Cucumber's idea, yes but it's Airplane's fault in the first place, blah blah blah, and he has time to think "oh lovely, I'm being rescued by clowns" before he passes out

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[wikiangela]

inspiration saturday

tagged for fuck it friday by @tizniz @aroeddiediaz @exhuastedpigeon @dangerpronebuddie @neverevan @diazsdimples thank you all 💖 it's closer to sunday now so using these for today and tagging y'all back for saturday or sunday 💁haha

haven't done one of these in a while but made a lil moodboard for my morning cuddles bucktommy fic so figured i'd share it and a lil snippet (the fic is done btw, and it's only 3k this time! might get posted today or tomorrow, just need to edit now and find a title, as usual)

(the top right pic is the oth scene that inspired this fic in the first place lol I heard that line and my brain had the idea ready in a second istg haha)

prev snippet

___

“Your morning breath is awful.” he whispers against Tommy’s lips, and Tommy laughs. Buck loves his laugh so much. He loves everything about him, from his kindness and understanding and competence, and the lame jokes and the worst fake mouth static, up to his huge arms and wide shoulders, and adorable cleft, and including even the morning breath he can currently taste on his tongue. He’s perfect and he’s Buck’s. He just adores all of Tommy.

“So is yours. So bad.” comes the amused response, before Tommy’s diving in for another kiss. And it just feels so intimate, so domestic, and like something Buck wants for the rest of his life. When they finally part, Tommy’s face hovers over his, as his eyes scan Buck’s face with that loving, soft look. He reaches to cup Tommy’s cheek in his hand.

“I like waking up to you.” Buck sighs contentedly, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

___

no pressure tags: @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @loveyouanyway

[guqin-and-flute]

"Y'know, this is easily the most homoerotic thing to happen to ever happen to me."

"Wei Ying."

"Wei-xiong, I don't think 'going to the ER because you've been stabbed is more homoerotic than literally being married to a man."

[eydi-andrius]

Sunday Morning Coffee (Nanami Kento x Reader)

Synopsis: You spend the day with Nanami

author's note: PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING FORWARD.

This fic is highly different from my usual fics. I have written this for a while but decided to add two endings instead since I cannot choose between the two.

Two warnings will be shared below and will be coordinated by color.

I wrote this when I read the manga and now, that Nanami is finally free, I decided to finally upload this as well.

I'd like to thank all of my readers who have been so kind during my absence. I hope you'll love this fic!

Thank you for your support and notes, it gives me strength and reminds me that someone out there enjoys my silly little writing. ☺️

I apologize if you stumble upon any typo or confusing words. I did a little cry while writing. 👉👈

WARNINGS: CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS!

heavy angst, character injuries, character death, hurt with no comfort, this ending will folllow the original story line of JJK

angst, mentioned of major injuries, character amputation, this ending will follow the original story plan of Gege for Nanami's character

divider by: @cafekitsune

Today is Sunday.

The greatest of days, where you can just sleep the whole day and no one can judge you from not doing anything.

Not even your dishes that have been sitting there since last night, your laundry left unfolded on a nearby chair or your empty fridge, except for that half full jar of peanut butter.

Oh! You haven't cleaned for a while too. Your mop and vacuum may give you the looks but no one can protest.

All they can do is judge.

You earned it. You deserved it. You're taking it.

Even Nanami, who rarely gets home, is fast asleep beside you, not caring about the mess. His arms wrapped around your waist, while he comfortably dug his face in the crook of your neck. This can be called romantic, cute even. You love his cuddles. He also loves his weekend cuddles too.

However, global warming has made your routine dirty, so today was extremely humid and it was too hot to be this close with each other. Also, Nanami was just a warm person. He is naturally a furnace. It's not ideal for your situation at the moment. You tried your best to wiggle your way out of his arms, but all he did was tightened his hold on you and groaned in frustration when you tried to pick up his arms away from your body. Your body is weird, you easily get cold but you also hate the heat. This was just too much and all you wanted was your sleep so bad.

"Nanami! It's too hot for cuddles!" Grumbling, you tried your best to force him to loosen his grip. Yet, all efforts were futile when all he did was move closer and bury his face deeper on your neck. His breath was warm and tickling.

With no choice left, and not wanting to lose the tiny bit of sleep on your system, you accepted your fate.

You swallowed the protest, tricked your brain into thinking that the heat did not bother you at all, even counted sheeps. Until in the end, it was Nanami's breathing that brought you back to dreamland. His hot breath may be distracting at first but you’ve guessed the desire to go back to sleep was stronger.

Slowly, you were feeling the familiar pull, it was close. Just imagining that the heat is the familiar summer, followed by the breeze of cold air, when you're out in the meadow, picking flowers. That feeling, just focus on that and let your mind take you away. You can sleep longer and wake up a bit later since it is the weekend.

You were so close, just a hair’s breadth away, so damn near to sleep, when you felt it. A wet, intentional kiss on your neck. No, this is more than a kiss, especially, when you felt the rough, wet feeling of his tongue and a nip on your skin. All the feelings of sleep were gone. You shuddered, goosebumps on your skin, and hairs have risen from shock. You looked back at the culprit, awake as ever.

He just gave out a low laugh that sounded so sexy, as always, when he felt your body shiver and alert. Fully awoken now, you slapped his arm in annoyance. He groaned in pain, probably not expecting it. You were ready to be vengeful, ready for your revenge, when you got distracted as you turned around and saw his morning look, you blushed and all anger vanished.

He woke you up but all your brain could register was his sexy, unintentional, messy hair and half unbuttoned shirt, that shows his beautifully sculpted chest. His bed hair looks so soft, all you wanted to do is to run your fingers through his blonde locks. Why is your boyfriend so sinful? And why is it so easy for you to be influenced?

Now, you're really pissed.

"It's Sunday, Nanami!" You yelled almost crying from frustration. You feel light headed from lack of sleep. But after his shenanigan, you doubted you could go back to sleep.

"I don't have work today and you woke me up with all that wriggling. It was an act of revenge. Come back now, we’re all good." He defended followed by a frown and a pout.

Yes, the Nanami who was so stoic, always, was now pouting. The only reason why he appeared so stoic at work was because he hated working, A LOT. But on the regular, he frowns, pouts, teases, smiles and laughs, especially when you're together.

And what did he just say? How is that your fault?

"So? I am too. That's why I am trying to rest and remove your arm from me. Your cuddles are suffocating and hot. I wanted to be free from them, but you just tightened your hold on me. " Rolling your eyes, you moved and pushed him away when he tried to grab you back to bed. You two were in the middle of a little game of tug of war when suddenly, Nanami suggested something.

"Let's spend the day together." He stared at you with twinkling eyes and you just looked down on his disheveled appearance, that looks more ravishing and appetizing by the minute.

"What's your plan?" With a raised brow, you asked.

"Nothing. I just want to spend the day with you." He said with a smile. Even though he looked tired, with heavy dark bags under his eyes, his face was glowing from the prospect of spending the day with you.

And you can't say no to that.

💚

Thus, it came with no surprise when at 8 am, you two went grocery shopping.

Nothing was inside your fridge at all. Nanami rarely stays at your house, you usually stay at his. He also doesn't believe in living together before you get married so, you really don't put much effort in stocking groceries. And if he does visit your house, so formally, he would text you a week ahead to let you know. Totally crazy! But that's Nanami, your darling on a daily basis. He is so polite and a living incarnate of a gentleman.

A little insight though during grocery runs, you are the one who pushes the cart and Nanami does the actual shopping. He loves taking care of you, while you enjoy watching his butt swaying as he walks ahead of you.

While pushing the cart, you remembered something important. It has been a while since you did this together that you completely forgot how he does his grocery shopping.

You see, Mr. Kento carefully checks each label of the products and compares them to each other. He sometimes takes a photo of the label, if one ingredient is new or unfamiliar to him. He will search for it later and take notes. He takes time to read and even has a journal.

"I completely forgot that you were like this during grocery shopping." You called him out with a chuckle as you watched him read the label of the new chocolate drink on the shelf.

He loves sweets but is not a fan of chocolates. You do though. Usually, you will just pick up your regular choco drink but Nanami begs to differ.

"You know why I do this." He said sternly and glared at your lazy ass.

“Not budging to chill a bit, got it.” You raise your hands in defeat and shake your head in an attempt to hide the flurry in your stomach. You are reminded of how Nanami could be so adorable at times. It is true that with the smallest actions, you can fall deeper to someone.

"Yeah right, I do." You continued, half jokingly. Trying to mimic his voice, you coughed before lowering your voice in an attempt to sound like him.

"I don't have the luxury to get sick. I need to take care of my health if I want to have a strong body. And it starts with choosing the right food."

You have heard him say this a million times that every word was ingrained inside your head. It sounded like something straight out of a commercial. You laughed on how ridiculous you sounded and on how on point you were. Might as well give yourself a pat on the back for that accurate Nanami portrayal.

He just looked at you with a sigh. It sounded so much like a disappointed father, done with his child’s antics.

"Well..I still believe you should do the same. So you can at least last for five rounds." He said with a straight face and he casually put the carton back on the shelf.

Too stunned to speak, you blinked the shock, and watched him walk away, hands inside the pocket of his slacks. When he turned, on his way to the next aisle, you caught a glimpse of a sly smirk.

💚

"How long do I have to wait just to eat my breakfast?" When hungry, everything in your body doesn't work as intended. Your brain is foggy, you are starting to get moody, and you have been complaining non-stop. The supposed short run to the grocery turned to hours as your boyfriend decided that it was better to stock up your place like a normal person should be doing.

It may sound cute and caring to others, but this is Nanami. He was very meticulous with buying stuff and so like a husband watching his wife do the grocery, you followed him around, dutifully. Until you can't take it anymore and had to take underhanded tactics to subdue him and force him to go home with you. Anymore of this running around is taking a toll on you and you won't take it any longer. Using a tactic that works every time, you bribed him with a french kiss. You also would like to thank your stomach for growling so loudly during that kiss, that he had no choice but to truly go home and cook brunch. However, the same with grocery, he is also serious about the food he intakes. Especially on weekends where he can cook.

The usual Nanami would eat anything available in a convenience store, but on the weekend, Nanami would cook a complete set of breakfast, lunch and dinner. And since your food became a brunch, there was just food everywhere. He doesn't stop cooking and plating. You tried to lend a hand but the man said he could do it.

So you sat there, waiting for him. Watching as the table was filled with various healthy and home cooked meals. You are salivating.

"Don't you think there was just too much? I'm not sure if I could eat this all." You whined a bit. Hoping that he knows you are complaining because you were just hungry. You will always be extremely grateful for eating hot food and your hot boyfriend cooking for you.

"I'll eat it if you can't finish them." He said as a matter of fact. He probably was thinking why are you complaining about the food waste, when he eats after you every time. He stated before that eating gives him energy so he doesn't mind eating a lot, especially, lots of protein and fiber.

Once done, you are probably drooling all over the table. The food was plated nicely and perfectly, you feel kinda bad touching them. Or at least you tried to feel guilty, because the moment Nanami said “dig in”, you walked towards him, gave him a kiss, as a thank you, and ate with no hesitation or whatsoever.

The food was great, obviously, your boyfriend is a good cook. Until you saw your mortal enemy, sitting on top of your vegetable stir fry, and felt the pang of betrayal. Trying to act stealthy, you used your chopsticks and placed the pieces of carrots on his bowl.

"Eat your food." He said without looking, but the deep sigh after was so personal, you shuddered from being caught.

"I am, but I think you can have these carrots. I believe they're good for your eyes." You act cutely with puppy eyes, while nitpicking the offensive orange root crop.

"You need them more. I'm not the one wearing eyeglasses. Now, eat." He did not put back the carrots you already placed on his cup but he did cover the top of his bowl using his hand to stop you from placing any more carrots in his food. Pouting, you groaned and ate with your brows drawn together, upset about being forced to chew down a root crop that tastes like soap.

"Good girl." He said in his deepest and sultry voice, unprovoked.

The sound of his voice almost choked you to death when he spoke and teased you midway through swallowing. The culprit forced himself not to laugh as he soothed your back and helped you drink water. He said sorry but you don't believe he was sorry one bit.

💚

Since Nanami cooked for today, you volunteered to do the dishes. Once done, you found him on the couch sitting and watching the new film that came out recently. It was a romantic film but you've heard that it has a very sad ending and it was really heartbreaking.

"How was it?" You asked, as you plopped down next to him on the couch. As fast as you sat, he immediately moved and rested his head on your lap and he continued to watch the movie. And just like breathing, you run your hand through his hair. He hummed with satisfaction and you felt the vibration of his "hmmmm" on your lap.

"I believe I'm still in the middle of it. Probably the part near the rising action. Nothing happened much yet, but slowly, the cracks on their relationship were showing." After a minute or two, he responded.

You see, Nanami is the type to watch anything you put on TV. He will not complain at all. If you put the cheesiest or most gruesome movie, he will watch it. When you asked him why once, he replied that he barely watches television and to be honest, he doesn't really know what he likes or dislikes anymore when it comes to these things. He was just happy to have time to watch movies.

It was such a sad answer but he reassured you that he was just grateful. This may be the most low rated movie but behind the screen, there were tons of overwork people who did their best to produce the greatest quality using the resources provided to them. He doesn't want to waste their efforts. Somehow, even though his answer was supposed to be reassuring, it sounded sadder. But you just tell yourself that you have such a compassionate boyfriend and you are lucky to have him.

After some time, you also get immersed in the movie. You were trying to blink away the tears when the main protagonist was giving birth. Both the male and female protagonists have waited to have this kid. They have done everything, paid anything just to have their child. Sadly, there were complications during birth. The character was in so much pain that you cannot help but feel bad for her. She was having this monologue about how unfair it was for her to feel this much pain when there were lots of women who birthed tons of children but still gave birth so smoothly. She was asking if it was really a sin to wish to have your own family. Have your own kid? Was this a punishment for choosing something that was given to others so simply? She was asking if this was a curse or if she truly doesn't deserve happiness?

"Are you alright?" You looked down at Nanami who looked a bit surprised with your expression. You wouldn't blame him though. You probably had bitten your lips to stop yourself from crying, eyes barely holding back tears and cheeks red from sadness. You look probably as miserable as the character in the movie you were watching.

"I am so scared of giving birth, darling." You admitted. Technically, he knew about it from the very start but it never stopped him from getting together with you. To soothe yourself, you continue stroking his hair.

"I told you, I don't mind not having kids." He said as straightforward as always.

"Exactly. You don't mind not having one but what if one day, you wanted one?" This question might trigger some partners but not Nanami. The best thing about him was that you have the freedom to express yourself.

He always listens and communicates his words well. Even if you disagree about something, he will not force his belief on you. Instead, he would try to see if there's a workaround that the both of you could use. So far, nothing major has been discussed. But it has always been your insecurity that your partner, one day, would wake up and will want to have kids.

There was just no way you could do that. Giving birth is such an unnecessary pain and it will not stop there. Right after giving birth, you were expected to nurse your kid even though you have not recovered yet. It was an experience that sounded straight from a nightmare.

"You don't have to worry about it. We can always adopt. I don't mind if the kid isn't blood related to us. I'm just happy to start a family with you." He said so simply as he stared at you while you ran your fingers through his hair.

He looks so handsome and you never thought that a man such as him would choose you. As much as he was lucky to have you, you were truly blessed to have him too.

"What about Yuji? I really like that kid. He is such a sweetheart." You wiggled your eyebrows as you teased him.

You have met the trio, Megumi, Yuji and Nobara. They were all lovely but will give you a headache. Nanami will not say it out loud but you know he likes Yuji the best. He always said the kid is a walking disaster but he cares for him a lot.

"I don't mind. He's a nice kid." He nodded and turned his head to focus on the film again. You cannot help but smile at that. Even though you were just teasing him, he gave a straightforward answer.

"We can adopt him once we get married." He continued.

"Are you proposing to me?" You asked a bit taken aback.

"Not yet. Just wanted to remind you of my intentions in the near future."

You chuckled at him when you saw his ears turned red. Nanami Kento, your darling, can be the purest sometimes.

💚

The day progressed slowly but smoothly. You had missed the days where you were just spending your whole day with him. In these moments you realize why you fell for him. And these days, he shows how much he loves you.

You love this man so much that it actually hurts, but it's the type of hurt you will take any time and any day. Gosh! You have never fallen this bad to someone. To the point that, you cannot imagine a life without him now. You used to have doubts with your exes, but never with him. Being with Nanami is the same with how comfortable silence works.

However at times, when things are running too smoothly, that's when life smacks your face with reality.

“What's this?” During dinner, Nanami gave you a box. You had a smile on your face when you accepted it, assuming it was a gift, but your face immediately went crestfallen when you saw one round ticket inside, addressed to your hometown. Just one.

You stared at him looking for answers. The used to be romantic lightning created by the candles he prepared for dinner, now added to your dread. Especially, when he just looks at his plate, picking his food, instead of answering you.

"Nanami?" You repeated, almost begging.

"I just want you to be safe." He replied with brows looking downward. When he finally looked up, you could see his anguish.

“I don't understand.” You shook your head in confusion. “You have fought curses before, been in the middle of a war once, even. I don't get why this one is any differ.” Looking down at the ticket, you did your best not to crumple it while being held by your shaky hands. Then, a realization hit you.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“Gods, no! I will never do that.” His crestfallen face turned into shock when you mentioned a break up. He stood up, walked towards where you sat and crouched down in front of you. He held your hands and grimaced when he realized how cold it was.

“I will never do that, nor I wish to end us like that. I just want you to be safe. That’s all. I want you to be somewhere away from here, just in case, things go awry. God knows I will never forgive myself if something happens to you and I am away to protect you from it. Just please, go to your parents for the meantime. Think of it as a vacation.” He explained, drawing circles with his thumb on your hands in a soothing manner.

“I-”

“I promise that this will be the last time. I will retire after this and we can go somewhere, away from Japan, where we can enjoy our days together without thinking of working overtime and you, being worried about my safety, each mission, each night. I cannot live any moment of my life in danger knowing that you are waiting for me to go back home! My darling, we can finally start our lives together after this” He kissed your hand and held it on his cheeks. His eyes were hopeful, and although there were still doubts within you, a dreadful feeling within your gut, you nodded and smiled back at him.

He gave you a smile of relief when you agreed and that night, he kissed you like a man starved. You wished that he would never stop, the moments never move forward, but alas, the sunrise came. Yet, you were thankful to watch the beautiful view, together with him. He hugged and kissed your forehead as you leaned against him and closed your eyes in content.

author's note: AGAIN, there will be two endings below. The BLUE will have heavy angst and the GREEN will have a happy ending. Choose wisely or read both! But don't forget to enjoy! 🫶

Ending BLUE 💔 or Ending GREEN ❤️‍🩹

[vse-kar-vem]

"i love you, i love you, i love you." (fanart for @fruitybashir's holidate!!! <333)

[superblysubpar]

dad eddie x reader maybe coming home from the hospital for the first time. i picture poor eddie not knowing what he’s doing but trying so hard, being nervous, etc.

We're not gonna talk about how I asked for these back in March okay? Okay. Thank you for your patience lovely, I hope this tiny blurb is what you had in mind many, many months ago 💛

We Just Go Home?

dad!eddie munson x mom!fem reader

an Easy Like Sunday Morning story

summary: Eddie brings his first baby girl, Caroline, home from the hospital. | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

943 words

Autumn, 1993:

Eddie stares at the sleeping child, baby, newborn - like tiny human fresh out of you new - in the car seat, to you where you blink sleepily in the wheelchair, to his own reflection in the now closed sliding glass doors. He frowns and starts again, “Baby, I-”

Your laugh is quiet, but enough to stop him when it turns to a small groan as you lift yourself from the chair. He’s quick to place his hand on your lower back, eyes dancing over you for signs of pain as you speak. “Eddie, it’s just a ten minute drive home.”

He nods once, but then shakes his head no, fingers itching to move, to do something. “Sweetheart, this can’t be right. I mean, we just…” he stares back at where the nurse had left through the doors and then back at the car, “We just go home?”

Your shoulder shrug is unconvincing and his brows furrow deeper. He opens his mouth to protest further and you place a finger over his plump bottom lip. Brown eyes melting as you replace your finger with your lips. A soft and over too soon press to his, before you shrug again. “Yeah, we just go home.”

“Aren’t you scared?” He glances down at the sleeping baby again, worried he shouldn’t have asked, worried you’re going to think he can’t handle it, that he’s going to be a bad dad, that-

“Fucking terrified,” you admit. Leaning your head against his shoulder, your pinky reaches forward and brushes your daughter’s nose. She scrunches her face, lips parted in a tiny ‘O’. You look up at Eddie again who’s now watching her with a look you’ve never seen on his face, a different kind of love, and you smile. 

That was hours ago, almost a full twenty four, and now your palm rests flat on his back, soothing up and down his spine. He’s curled in an upright position, forehead pressed to one side of the crib, curls spilling around the front of his face. He’s got spit up stains all over his favorite Metallica shirt, sweats on and tucked into his tube socks. The room and him barely lit by a shimmering lamp that projects tiny constellations on the wall, Caroline asleep in her pale yellow swaddle in his eyeline. 

“Eddie? Honey, come to bed please.” Crouching down next to him, you wince at the pain of getting down on his level as you try to sit quietly. 

He hums as you brush the hair from his face. Eddie rubs his eyes, blinking at you. Frowning as his eyelids flutter rapidly, his face scrunches like he’s fighting off making a loud noise to accompany the yawn he swallows. He reaches forward and cups your jaw, rough skin of his thumb brushing over your cheek gently as he whispers, “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in bed?”

Turning your head, you place a soft kiss to his palm before reaching up and removing his hand, lacing your fingers together in your lap. “Funny, I came in here to ask you the same thi-”

A small hiccup of noise has you both holding your breath. Your heads turn in unison to peek through the slats of the crib. 

He waits and when no more noise happens, he squeezes your fingers. “She was crying so loud last time and I-”

“Eddie, that's just what’s going to happen right now,” you try to reassure him.

He nods once and your chest aches from how his eyes look a little glossy, how he sniffs once and clears his throat. “I just don’t…” He shakes his head and reaches for your face. He kisses you softly, forehead pressing to yours as he keeps his eyes closed. His voice is filled with admiration, “You’re just a great mom already and it’s been like literally a day and I’m a shit dad who doesn’t know what his daughter needs when she cries.”

“Who called you a shit dad? I’ll kick their ass,” you try to joke and when your cheek feels wet you pull away to see the tear that dropped down his. Swiping it away, your voice turns serious, “Eddie, look at me.”

When his eyes open, you try to focus on conveying how truthful these words are to him, to make him see clearly, instead of crying yourself. “Eddie, I have no clue what she needs either. Sometimes she’s hungry, or tired, or filling a diaper, and sometimes it’s none of that and she’s just gonna cry. You’re not a shit dad. You’re literally-”

She makes another, louder, cry, and without hesitation Eddie reaches his hand through the slates, fingers finding hers and he holds his breath. 

Once she settles again, you lean forward and kiss his jaw, scratchy with stubble. “I need,” a kiss to his cheek, “To hear,” a kiss on his neck, “You say,” a kiss to his forehead, “You’re a good dad.”

“Baby-”

Your mouth finds his, kissing him roughly and then mumbling into his lips, “I swear to god Eddie-”

He smiles against your moving mouth, free hand reaching up and cupping your jaw again. He moves his lips over yours gently, filling your stomach with butterflies at how tender he is. Sighing as he pulls away too quickly but happy when he whispers, “I’m a good dad.”

“Damn straight.” You kiss him again and then look at where your daughter's fingers curl around his pinky tightly and huff, “You’re not coming to bed anytime soon are you?”

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing his eyes again before looking at her fondly, “Nah, I’m good right here. This is my new home now.”

[fractalkiss]

for the mini stories, 7

prompt list

for prompt #7 "uncanny", explicit, weekend in spa 2023.

Lance expects Fernando to be fully asleep by the time he comes around to his suite. If it was any other race or sprint weekend, Lance would be eager to end the day himself.

He's already turned down the lights to one. But Fernando cracks open his eyes before Lance gets on the bed, watches blankly as Lance climbs in beside him. It should be unnerving. Maybe it would have been if this had been the beginning of the season, if he hadn't been doing this for as long.

Fernando reaches out and Lance falls forward into it right away, slides himself over to feel the warmth of him. Lance feels Fernando's knuckles drifting up over his spine through his t-shirt, the slow stroke of his fingers like he's petting something; Lance pushes his face into his neck, and Fernando turns, tells him, "You'd want to sleep," into his cheek.

"Not yet," Lance says, and Fernando's hand is hot around the back of his neck, fingers through his hair, encouraging. He shuts his eyes in the feeling of it, thinks about Fernando full and demanding in his mouth, thinks about riding his cock. His dick twitches, and he presses himself into Fernando's leg already. "Dad says you're welcome to ours in Montreal anytime. The vacation house," he says.

"Did he?" Fernando murmurs, amused, as if he hasn't already been there, or already told this years ago by Dad himself.

"If you wanted to. Like, a weekend during the summer break," Lance huffs.

"What would we do?"

"Finally fucking relax. Fuck and relax," Lance adds with a snicker and Fernando's nails scrape the base of his head, the back of his ears. He's quiet, and Lance wets his lips, trying to think. Fernando knows he's hard, can feel Lance pressed up his side. He stretches his fingers over Fernando's stomach, touching Fernando's arm resting there, where he can't see the tattoo at the moment. "Tell me about Asturias."

Fernando's fingers still for a second. "Lots of mountains. Green, beautiful forests. It would be colder there now, not much rain."

He'd taken those photos in Montreal. Lance sighs when Fernando's shifts his leg, slots it between Lance's thighs, his hand pushing down Lance's spine now. "Your place has a view?"

"Somewhat yeah. You will have to bike out to get the best views. Maybe not what you would do yet, eh?"

There's no tease or jeer in his voice but Lance frowns, mutters, "Hey, shut up, I—" I want to be good to you, he thinks.

"Plenty of places to stay indoors and relax, also," Fernando continues. He shifts on to his side to face Lance, and Lance palms at him, wants to push his hand in his shorts, but Fernando beats Lance to it, tugging down Lance's pants himself to hold him, thumb slipping over the moist head of his cock. "Lots of gardens, where you can eat outside. The sun is less hot there, I always like it better outside."

"Sunbathing?" Lance breathes, thrusting a little into Fernando's hand, fucking into it. "You could do that anytime."

"No," Fernando says, and pulls away to touch two fingers to Lance's mouth; Lance's jaw falls open automatically, licks at the rough pads of his fingers. "You will see the garden, even from indoors, and a—" he says a word in Spanish, mutters a little off-track when Lance moans around his fingers. "Balcony," he says in English, "A room with a balcony, open, outside. We do not keep doors closed in summer, usually—we can do exactly this, there," Fernando says, his voice low and hoarse, exhausted, fingers sliding in and out of Lance's mouth nonetheless, the wet noise of the movement shooting down to Lance's dick, saliva gathering in his mouth faster than anything so he's drooling soon. Grinding into Fernando's steady palm too, like a dog.

Lance had been hoping to blow him, feel him full to the back of his throat until he can't no more, taking it until his voice is wrecked for the media pen tomorrow, but Fernando isn't done talking yet.

"You will like it," Fernando says. "The weather will be perfect. And you will look good, for me, no one will see when I fuck you." Lance whimpers around his fingers, the suction sound loud and desperate when Fernando takes his hand away, the wetness on his chin cool suddenly with the absence of contact; Fernando gets his pants off, and Lance's knees fall open—"Like that, that's right. That's what you will do. No one will see how much you like what I do to you. Such a shame, you'll look so—" Fernando sighs, his voice, strangled, pained. Sounding tight and in sync with how Lance feels when Fernando works him open with a finger, palm pressed over his balls, fucking with his hand, Lance moving to it until he's coming in gentle waves, unexpected, jerking into Fernando's side. Fernando kisses him towards the end of it, other hand holding Lance's jaw tight to keep him there, anchor him, keep him together.

"Fuck," Lance laughs, shakily. He sits up to take off his shirt, still breathless. Fernando is silent now, watching him, eyes impossibly dark, and still, the lines on his face deepened with his expression; wondering, lost, almost, strangely. Lance thinks stupidly, dazed, come home with me, anywhere.

He leans back down to kiss Fernando on the mouth. His hand goes to Fernando's shorts, pushes inside it.

[imagineitdearies]

Me: *Checks current word count of ch36, it's already at 6.5k*

Also me: *Still has a whole ass scene to flesh out*

[prettyboykatsuki]

im literally foaming at the mouth like a wild animal

[everythingisawayoflife]

the writer in me…she’s cooking…i think this is the longest thing ive written yet. i shall leave a sample below so i’m satisfied with sharing at least a little bit before i post the full thing (this to me takes place in the new batman adventures universe but feel free to imagine otherwise):

Dick is worried. Tim isn’t the chattiest kid but he can certainly hold a conversation. Dick’s tried everything: school, movies, TV, even casework. All he’s gotten are some unenthused grunts and hums. Tim may not biologically be Bruce’s kid but he sure does take after the guy. He cleaned up a bit before leaving and there’s a little bit of color back in his face but he still looks tired. Devastatingly so. Dick keeps stealing glances at his little brother in the passenger seat of the car. His arms are folded tightly against his abdomen, as if he’s protecting his stomach from something and a slight shiver courses through his body despite Tim bundling up with at least three layers, a scarf, a hat, and very thick gloves. The kid’s got to be cooking in his makeshift snowsuit, but then again…

They’re stopped at a red light. Five minutes out from the mall, three minutes out from the nearest urgent care.

Dick steals another glance towards Tim and decides to reroute to the clinic, get him checked out. Dick tuts quietly, it’s a shame he’s starting to come down with something right before Christmas, right before his first Christmas with them. Dick’s been in his shoes before; falling in a pond ice skating with Barbara. She managed to be just fine whereas he spent Christmas on Bruce’s couch laid up with pneumonia. He hardly remembers that Christmas from being so damn delirious but he remembers the warmth that wasn’t from fever. It was familial. The whole time he remembers being with someone. It was hard to deduce who was with him when but he was never alone. And if Tim was about to go through what he had been through, or something similar, he’d need them. But first, Dick just wanted to check for a fever in the first place. All signs pointed to one but Dick wasn’t sure yet. Careful not to wake the sleeping boy, Dick reaches out for Tim’s forehead.

HONK!

Dick quickly retracts his hand and places it back on the wheel, pressing the gas. To the mall. Tim doesn’t jolt awake but the car horn is clearly loud enough to stir him. He blinks slowly with a grimace, like he’s in pain.

“Are we there yet?” Tim asks, pitifully quiet. Like talking louder than a whisper would kill him.

“Almost, Tim, you can go back to sleep for a bit,” Dick says, taking a left towards the mall.

Tim makes a disapproving noise. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Hm. Denial is the path he’s choosing here.

“Are you sure? Your eyes were closed and you weren’t talking. Telltale signs of sleeping to me,” Dick says lightly, trying not to come off like he’s interrogating Tim.

Tim laughs a little. “Nope, just resting my eyes.”

“Okay, old man. You’re too young to rest your eyes. Resting your eyes is for old people. Just look at Bruce.”

“Hn.”

“Oh my gosh, B, is that you?” This gets a more hearty laugh from Tim. It’s the most awake he’s looked since this morning.

alrighty thats all im posting, im gonna show the utmost restraint until i actually finish this thing.

[jakesguitarsolo]

last minute sexy sunday submission!!

just thinking about Jake pulling you aside mid-conversation at some event, taking you out into an empty room or hallway and pressing you to the nearest wall, whispering in your ear, “I need you so bad, darling. I couldn’t stand another minute in there.”

HAPPY SEXY SUNDAY!

This one is from last week and let me just tell you… I have been day dreaming about this idea since I first saw it.

Warnings: 18+ only! MINORS DNI!! Smut! Alcohol consumption, pet names, kissing, fluff, slight exhibitionism, slight mocking, digital penetration, unprotected sex. Please let me know if I missed anything! I’m still very new to this.

Jake was on a high from tonight. You couldn’t stop smiling because he couldn’t stop smiling. Your boyfriend had just won another Grammy with his band, Greta Van Fleet, and you couldn’t be more thrilled for them. They deserved this. Starcatcher deserved this. You, of course, had come as Jake’s plus one to the Grammys after party, and he wouldn’t let you leave his side. He either had his fingers interlaced with yours or held you close by the waist as he led you around the room introducing you to other people in the music industry. You each had 2 glasses of wine to drink at the event and had started to give each other subtle glances back and forth. The way he looked at you was enough to send waves of electricity throughout your body. Jake looked at you with so much love, so much lust, so much passion. It didn’t matter how long you had been together. Time only made you crave each other more.

Jake was lost in conversation with a fellow artist when you noticed that your glass had run dry. You gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, released his hand, and had started to turn away not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that you were going to step away to get a refill at the bar. He grasped you by the upper arm before pulling you into an embrace and pressed his soft, plump lips against yours in a quick but deep kiss. You had opened your eyes to find his beautiful caramel ones staring into yours. He smirked at how caught off guard you were and let you stagger towards the bar, fully aware of how stunned that kiss had made you.

When you finally made it to the bar, you kindly ordered 2 fresh glasses of wine. The bartender set them down for you while you dropped a tip into the tip jar. You then picked them both up and almost ran directly into Jake when you immediately turned around. “Jake, oh my god. You scared me!” You laughed. Jake responded with a toothy grin, “Sorry, my love. Just didn’t want to stay away from my girl for too long.” You could feel the redness start to bloom on your face under your makeup. “I was only gone for 5 minutes max, baby.” Jake took a sip from the glass you handed him and said, “and even that is far too long. Come with me, I want to show you something.”

Jake grabbed you by the hand and led you out of the main ballroom doors and down the hall towards what looked like some dark, unlit abandoned rooms. Before making it all the way there, Jake pinned you against the wall in the hallway, his warm body up completely up against yours. His teeth grazed over your neck before moving up and catching your ear in his teeth, biting down softly at first and then harder before sucking your earlobe between his lips. Your arms twisted around his neck and tangled into his hair, lightly pulling it at the root. “I need you so bad, darling. I couldn’t stand another minute in there,” he panted between the opened mouthed kisses he was placing on your neck and chest. “But Jake, there are people in the room 20 feet away. What if someone hears us? What if someone comes out and sees us?” Despite the hesitant words leaving your mouth, you were grabbing his tie, hiking your leg around his hip pulling him closer. Thank god you had decided to wear a full length gown with a high leg slit. Easy access.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, gazing down at you, and reached his hand down between your two bodies, opening the slit of your dress up wider before cupping your clothed and now drenched pussy. “My pretty girl doesn’t want someone to come out here and see how well I take care of her, huh? You sure about that, my love? You sure you don’t like the idea of someone watching the way you melt under my touch?” With that, Jake pushed your tiny lacy thong to the side exposing your pussy to him. You whimpered when he dragged his middle finger now wet from your arousal from your entrance up to your clit and started rubbing feather light circles on you inadvertently causing you to buck your hips from the wall and into his hand. “Oh so my needy girl wants to ride my fingers now, huh?” He teased. “Do you, darling? Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you with my hand.” You moaned, “Please, Jake. Please. Give me more. I want you, I need you.” You were practically begging him.

Jake crashed his lips hard into yours opening his mouth in a passionate and steamy kiss, welcoming your tongue into his mouth. While your tongues wrestled back and forth, he pushed both his middle and ring fingers slowly into your pussy eliciting a moan from you that he simply and eagerly swallowed down. Jake felt you squeezing around his fingers while he picked up his pace and pumped them in and out of you quicker, simultaneously using his thumb to rub your clit bringing you closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. You could feel his hard erection straining against his dress pants pressing against your thigh as you reached down and palmed his thick cock. Right as you did that, Jake quickly pulled his fingers out of you and moved your dress back into place when he heard the sound of the ballroom door open. He grabbed your hand and you started giggling as you both ran further down the hall to find a secluded, empty room to continue in. You entered a small and very dark coat closet. The sound of Jake clicking the lock into place made you jump. Wow, it was really dark in here. Your eyes took a minute to adjust to it. However, you could already tell what Jake was doing when you heard him fumbling with the buckle of his belt. You reached out for him and found his waist. He shuffled closer towards you and pressed his body against yours again. “That was close,” he sighed. “Where were we?” “Hmm, well… I actually was close before we were so rudely interrupted,” you whined. Jake laughed at your cute play on words. “I’m sorry, darling. As much as I love hearing you moan my name in a public place, I selfishly want to keep your pretty sounds all to myself.”

Jake grabbed you by your ass, picking you up as you straddled him and wrapped your legs around his hips once again. You could feel the shaft of his now freed cock against your pussy. You couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips up and down. The slick wetness of your pussy easily allowing you to grind up and down against him. He moaned and brought his mouth back to yours as he unexpectedly placed you down on a cold, hard surface. It was dark in there but you could make out that it was a table. Jake pushed you to lay down flat on the table and took hold of his cock before stroking himself with the combination of the precum leaking from his tip and your juices coating him perfectly. He teased your entrance with his head, lightly pushing in and withdrawing repeatedly. You couldn’t wait any longer and tried bucking your hips and scooting further down the table to give yourself some more friction, just a few more inches of him. “Aw you’re so cute when you’re eager for me, my love. You want my cock deep in your pussy? I can tell. It’s all yours. You want me to give it to you right now?” Jake mocked you. Before you could respond, Jake thrusted into you hard. He entered you fully, deep and hard, stretching you so tightly as you tried out. He paused and groaned when he was all the way in. Just wanting to feel how warm and wet you are for him and only him.

You moaned when Jake pulled a few inches out and thrusted back in, changing his pace in time with your sounds. He reached down between your legs once again and began to rub your clit. The stimulation nearly made you lose your vision as he brought you right back to the edge of that cliff. You grabbed his suit jacket and buried your face in it, muffling your noise as you throbbed around his cock. “Look at me, darling. Right now. Don’t you dare try to hide from you. I want to see all your pretty tears as you come all over my cock for me, understand?” You pried yourself away from his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck, opening your eyes and staring at the beautiful man above you. His face was dripping in sweat, his hair wild around his face as he moaned from the pleasure of being buried deep in you. Jake pressed his face to your neck. Kissing you. His sweat on your skin as he rocked against you. Faster and faster. “Fuck, Jake… I’m gonna…” Your muscles clenched, gripping him tightly, as your vision blurred and eyes rolled back into your head. You were hovering right at the edge of the orgasm that had been taunting you for far too long tonight. He didn’t just push you over the edge… No, he sent you screaming into orgasm as your whole body shook against the table. Every trust of his cock drew your orgasm out until you could hardly breathe. You felt him kiss away a tear that had escaped your eye. His hands tangled in your hair, gripping you possessively, grinding out the words, “Fuck, darling…” Jake’s cock swelled as he finally spilled inside you. He was panting, trembling against you as he laid his head down on your chest, still inside you. You could feel Jake smirk against you when he whispered, “What do you say we ditch this party, get home and go for round two?”

[pearlparty]

Mundanity:  An October Sunday Morning

Austin x Reader

Summary:  A little peak into a brief moment of calm on a Sunday where Austin romanticizes his life with his favorite girl and sensually puts lotion on her legs to give him an edge in their little game of teasing.

Warnings:  Tooth rotting fluff, brief descriptions of memories of sex (not graphic), brief strong language, teasing, Austin is a simp lord, finger guns (yes this is a warning), sweater paws, they’re so in love it’s disgusting

Word Count:  5k

Note:  This is in 3rd person because it’s entirely from Austin’s POV because I love to write men who are such simps, BUT it’s technically a reader fic.  Also, the reader’s descriptions are super vague, but I did briefly mention cellulite and stretch marks because a lot of people have them and they’re not size exclusive.  Also, I’m debating making this a kind of series/collection where it’s just little snapshots of the little mundane and domestic things in life can be made special.  And it wouldn’t be for just these two since I’d love to write for his other characters and stuff.  So lmk if you’d like to see that.

Sunday mornings were a contented sigh breathed after a long and arduous week.  Tranquility seemed to seep into the apartment on the sunbeams that peaked through the blinds and bounced off the cream walls in the master bedroom.  The houseplant in the corner next to the nightstand welcomed the light, stretching towards the window with open arms, eager to start the new day with a dose of sunshine.  A soft birdsong gently coaxed the city from its slumber, almost as though its singer was saying, “A new day has begun. Relax and rise with the sun--take your time, darling.” 

Austin loved these moments.  Their serenity became an anticipated standstill in his hectic life, a chance to just… exist.  Maybe savor the little mundane moments with the love of his life on the other side of his bed.

No alarm clock, no pressing appointments.  Just greeting the day with a lazy smile as his eyes slowly opened.  Everything always seemed to be moving so fast that taking time to breathe out his dreams and lay with his thoughts for a while became a necessity to wind down from the week’s stress.  

He’d turn over slowly and peek at the breathtaking girl lying next to him.  He was never in a rush to take her in.  Even in her sleeping state—face squished against her pillow, wild hair, and the small line of drool coming from her mouth—all he wanted to do was bask in her presence.  He loved her soft snores or the way that she’d breathe out a peaceful moan and nuzzle into her pillow when repositioning in the morning, like her body was begging, “just five more minutes, please.”

Sometimes, he’d still be half asleep and reach out to hold her hand, leisurely wrapping his fingers around her tiny fist in a loose grip.  Just enough contact to let her know that he was there, but not enough to wake her up.  Usually, she’d hold his hand, too, and press a sleepy kiss to his thumb as they both fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Spooning all night wasn’t as comfortable as it had been in the honeymoon phase. Romance is not always practical, no matter what the storybooks say.  It left Austin waking up with pain tingling in a dead limb, or their combined body heat under the sheets and comforter woke her in the middle of the night drenched in sweat.  

Most nights started out with their arms around each other to enjoy each other’s warmth, breaths slowing, heart beats syncing, and just before succumbing to the pull of sleep, one would press a kiss to the other before letting go, still close enough to brush against each other if they wanted.  Neither thought poorly of the other because of it--sleep’s a selfish thing and it can’t be helped that always sleeping on top of another person is slightly uncomfortable.  

Besides, little touches like entwining their pinkies or running fingers over shoulders almost meant more because, even under the spell of dreams, their souls always found a way to connect.  It was like nothing would keep them apart.  

This soft morning, however, Austin kept his hands firmly planted under his pillow and his stomach pressed to the mattress as he looked her over.  Savoring the way the mellow light caressed her features, and cherishing the way her scent clung to his skin soothed his appetite for contentment more than a simple touch ever could.  The dark gray sheets still tangled around her bare form, light fabric kissing her skin in the cool morning air creeping in through the ajar window across the room.  He could trace each and every curve of her body with his fingers if he wanted to reach out and touch her; perhaps he’d allow himself to and confirm that she really was lying in their bed and not a dream--a dream he feared he could wake from at any moment.  She was an angel gracing him with her presence, and if he dared indulge his selfish desires and graze her cheek with his hand, she might disappear, ascend back to the holier plane. 

Memories of their firsts, their most recents, and everything in between swirled around his brain.  Heat crawled up his face, igniting a light blush on his cheeks as he recalled the night before.  Flashes of hastened kisses, eager hands, and moans of praise flitted through his mind.  Oh, how he wanted to wake his love, remind her of his affections; she had him completely bewitched, willing to do anything and everything to make her happy.

Perhaps later.  Now, he’d let his angel sleep.

He pushed his body to his elbow and leaned toward her.  His lips slowly, gently, grazed over her hairline.  “I love you,” he whispered.  He lingered a second too long, too eager to touch her soft skin; she let out an untroubled sigh, rolling into his touch.  He couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but a smile crept to his face nonetheless.  Maybe he’d just kickstarted her journey back to reality from her dreams.  

After loosening the grip of the sheets around his bare legs, he rose from the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress and disturb her.  He padded over to the attached bathroom and the cold marbled floor tile sent a brief shock up his spine at the stark contrast to the warmth in his bed.  Running a hand through his wild curls, Austin paused to take a look at himself in the mirror after he turned on the shower.  A chuckle rumbled in his throat as his eyes wandered over the small red love bites littering his collarbones and neck, not regretting a single one.  Sure, he’d probably have to wear a sweater to avoid the endless teasing that his family would inevitably dish out at dinner tonight, but he didn’t mind having the little reminders on his chest.  They might as well have been little I Love You’s tattooed to his skin.  

He’d already showered and wrapped a towel around his waist by the time she woke.  He could see his angel’s eyes idly blinking open as he flipped on the light in their shared large walk-in closet adjacent to the steamed-up bathroom.  Austin’s tall dresser sat at the back with a variety of his toiletries--deodorant, cologne, jewelry, etc.--sitting on top.  

Despite having an only slightly smaller array of clothes in his wardrobe, he’d opted for the right side of the closet as it had fewer racks and less shelf space so she could have more room for her things even if some of the space was left barren.  He’d joked that it was just an excuse to spoil her with a shopping spree, and she laughingly insisted that she didn’t need him to buy her any more clothes because 1) she could afford it herself, and 2) she didn’t need more items in her wardrobe.

He’d ended up doing it anyway.  What?  He loved spoiling her!  Besides, he loved the way she looked in baby blue, and her wardrobe had frighteningly little of that color, so he just had to rectify that.  And what’s a baby blue wrap dress without a pair of strappy heels and some pretty lingerie to match underneath?  

The light breeze from the window cooled his wet skin, the water droplets on his shoulders stealing his body heat suddenly sending chills down his spine in a gentle reminder that autumn was in the air.  

He could hear the blankets shift in the bedroom as she stretched her rested muscles.  The yawn she let out in the master echoed off the hardwood floors.  He busied himself putting on a pair of black boxers before throwing his towel over the open closet door so it could dry. 

Just as he reached for his deodorant, a soft pair of lips slowly caressed his shoulder, a warm contrast to the chilled droplets dripping down his shoulder blades.  The same smile from earlier returned to his face when her small hands wrapped around his bicep and opposite shoulder as she peppered his muscles with gentle kisses.  

“Mornin’, baby,” he rasped, pleased with her greeting.  He loved the feeling of her lips on his skin.  Her hands slid down his back and slowly snaked around his bare waist, engulfing him in her loving embrace.  Austin could feel the soft silky fabric of her robe pressed into his body, and when he looked down, sure enough, the flowy sleeves were covering her forearms.  Dammit.  He’d thought that she’d get up in the nakedness she’d slept in and give him more of a show this morning.  His digits wound around her wrist near his belly button, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the delicate flesh.

“Mornin’,” she hummed.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.  She was worn out by the time they finally slept in their bed--he’d made damned sure of that.  He could picture the heat rising in her cheeks as she tried to hide her small smile.  

“Mmm mhm,” she sighed.  She wasn’t fully coherent yet; it always took her a while to rouse her faculties completely.  Her hands untangled from his as she pulled away a little, allowing her fingers to graze his sides and tease the waistband of his boxers.  He craned his neck to get a better look at her over his shoulder, meeting her half lidded gaze.  

“Yeah, slept real good,” she added, the sleep lining her voice gradually sloughing off with each word.  The corner of her mouth rose to a half smile and he couldn’t determine if it was from contentment or mischief.  

Her soft touches to his back suddenly traveled lower until she pinched his ass with a chuckle.

“Hey!”  he yelped, not missing her cheeky smirk when he turned to her with a grin. Definitely mischief in her eyes, then.  What was she up to this morning?

He snatched her small figure into his arms, pressing her closely to his chest with his hands firmly around her waist, eyes raking over her robe clad form--the tie hung loosely on her hips, the purple silky fabric barely covering her breasts and convening just below her belly button. 

“Watch it, young lady,” he playfully chastised.  Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow quirked up, and before he knew it her hands were on his butt again with a gentle squeeze before settling at the bottom of his spine.  That brought a full laugh to his chest.  “Is that all I am to you?  A piece of ass?”

“Mmm, yeah,” she giggled.  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and plant a kiss on her nose.  Contentment swelled in his chest--nothing could possibly ruin this moment, ass objectification and all.  His heart made a silent plea to the universe:  please stop time and let us freeze this moment forever.  Let us frame it and put it on our mantle and revisit on cold nights and melancholy mornings.  All of the mundanity of waking up and getting ready together… it pleased him to no end, gifted from the gods.  He took a mental screenshot of it all:  the lighting, the cool air, the soft silk beneath his fingertips, her mussed hair, the way her eyes sparkled with a little sleep lingering in the corners, and her soft kissable lips smiling up at him.  

Her hand trailed lightly across his side and stomach before softly caressing the marks she’d left last night, clearly proud of her handiwork--or would it be mouth-iwork?  A quiet sigh left his lips as she delicately pressed an agonizingly unhurried kiss to a love bite on his clavicle.  She maintained her pace and made her way up to plant another one to his pulse.  His grip on her hips tightened marginally, but she seemed to take notice and it only spurred her on.  

He sucked in a breath, eyes closing to better focus on her touch.  She raised up on her toes to press one more to his jawbone right below his ear, her hand settling at the base of his throat just above his collarbones.  It was a gentle touch, not an ounce of pressure applied.  To anyone else, her hand rested there to provide balance while on her tiptoes, but he knew better.  It was heavenly.  A low hum reverberated in his chest at the contact.  

Yes, please, keep going, darlin’.  

Her satin lips ghosted along his jawline, stopping just short of his own mouth.  His eyes fluttered open.  Her other hand made its way from his back to his face at a leisurely pace before her thumb grazed over his supple lower lip and lightly gripped his chin.  She pulled him closer to her ever so slightly, and he prepared to meet her halfway with a kiss when she suddenly halted his advances with a firm, albeit gentle, push at the base of his neck.  

“Mm.  I’m gonna go take a shower,” her eyes shot down to his lips, her sensual body language contradicting the nonchalance in her voice as though she wasn’t just barely feeling him up and working him into a tizzy.  

His sweet, innocent little angel had swapped out her harp and halo for a pitchfork and horns.

Oh, so we’re teasing now, huh?  She dropped back down to her regular height, retracting her hands and leaving Austin hanging.  “I feel positively filthy after last night.”  Her salacious tone dripped over him like honey, and he chewed on his lip.  

Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wearing her halo now.  That devilish look told him everything he needed to know:  she wanted to ditch the innocence and wings and do a little sinning.

“Filthy, huh?” he shot back, just as insinuating.  She threw him a wink when she started strutting away.  Before she could get too far, he brought his hand down and gave her ass a quick swat, sending a smirk of his own in her direction.  She giggled at the contact as she sauntered out of the closet, aware of his eyes burning along her curves.  Accentuating the sway in her delicious hips just a little more to keep his attention--she knew exactly how to drive him mad.  

Her manicured fingers scraped down the door frame as she finally left his sight, but, like a show girl leaving the stage, she teased her audience by theatrically tossing her robe in front of the closet door, leaving everything to his raunchy imagination.

Little devil.  He shook his head and chewed on his cheek with a chuckle.  They both loved the game, the chase, and light teasing had quickly become one of their favorite ways to keep each other on their toes.  They loved to sprinkle it between mundane tasks.  One moment would be completely innocent, and then sexually charged for a split second before settling back to normal.  It wasn’t so much that they’d dismiss the moment as it was that neither would openly acknowledge it--there’d be plenty of time for that later.  The build-up was part of the fun.

The low roar of the water cascading from the showerhead and hitting the tiled floor pulled him from his thoughts and signaled him to actually get ready for the day.  He settled on a navy jumper over a white tee and jeans to accommodate the October weather.  The sleeves were a little long on him, which was mildly surprising considering his long lanky limbs, but he didn’t mind.  The closely knit fabric draped comfortably over his arms in a loose fit that made it feel homier and more autumnal, even if they did engulf his palms.  His fingers were long enough, anyway, that it didn’t really cause a problem for him.  

He ran a hand through his hair as he padded into the bathroom again where he could hear a light melody coming from the shower.  She often hummed subconsciously when completing simple mindless tasks.  

Ah, he thought, ‘must be a hair-washing and leg-shaving day.  

She continued her light humming as he brushed his teeth, leaning into the white countertop as he hovered over the sink.  He recognized the tune, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  Where had he heard it before?  His brow furrowed as he tried to place it, following the melody’s notes and beat with his head.  Suddenly, it dawned on him.  

“Are you singing the song from the Chick Fil A commercials?” he laughed out, minty suds still frothing on his tongue.  Her musical giggle echoed off the tile and sent a spark of warmth to his chest. 

“It’s stuck in my head!” she confirmed before wordlessly continuing the same series of notes and pauses.  He spits and rinses the white bubbles from his toothbrush.

“I thought the cottage cheese one was your favorite,” he teased, recalling the time he’d caught her absentmindedly singing it to herself in the bread aisle at the store.  

Without hesitation, she proceeded to belt the jingle.  

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” she sang the phrase twice, and he couldn’t hold back his snicker. “Satisfying and fresh, so creamy and delish!” 

 “Noooooo!” he dramatically lamented, cheeks hurting from his grin, as he grabbed the mousse from the drawer to style his hair--it’s so unruly when he doesn’t put product in it.

“It’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now!” he jested as he spread the mousse on his hands.  

Even with the frosted shower door obscuring her naked form, he knew she was doing a little dance as she got to the last line, drawing out the last note in a satisfying finish with another light giggle as he raked the product through his curls.  “Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, ya know that?”  he chuckled again.

“Oh, c’mon you love it!”  

“Hm. Suuuurrrreeee.”

Truth is, he did.  Not the jingles--he hated that they’d always pop into his head at the most inconvenient times and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them for hours.  But he loved how she teased him and made him laugh.  He loved listening to her voice, even if it wasn’t always perfectly on-key with the songs.  He loved laughing with her.  She really was his best friend, and if that meant enduring a few annoying jingles, then so be it.  Not that he’d tell her that--she’d never let him hear the end of it.  Then again, knowing him, he’d probably love that, too.

God, he was so whipped.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as he manipulated his wavy locks to look presentable, allowing a couple stray strands to coil and fall loose on his forehead in a Superman curl.  After wiping his fingers of the product, he pulled his hand over his chin and the faint goatee he’d been sporting over the past couple days.  Was it time for a shave?  It was getting a little longer than he normally kept it, but he found that the look was, if you’ll pardon the pun, growing on him.  He grabbed his electric razor from the drawer and ran it over the hair, deciding it best to trim it just a little to a short manageable stubble.  He pulled back to admire his work.  

Yeah, he looked good.  A bit of pride inflated his ego--more than it probably should have, but he’d never admit it. Maybe it was just because he woke up happy on a beautiful morning with his gorgeous girl and some light teasing after a night of mind-blowing sex.  Who wouldn’t be on top of the world?

His finger guns shot himself in the mirror with a wink as he clicked his tongue.  

Yeah, I still got it.

A snort sounded behind him, and he quickly dropped his hands as saw his lover stepping out of the shower with her hand covering her mouth to prevent her full laugh from escaping.  He hadn’t even noticed her turn off the water and wrap the towel around her torso.

Oh, damn.    

Ego: deflated.  

Heat flooded his cheeks, crawling into his ears and setting them ablaze.  Suddenly, his jumper almost felt a little too warm.  There was no salvaging the situation. He’d been caught doing the most uncool thing a person could do, so he settled on sending her a sheepish grin and clasping his hands in front of him.  Quite awkwardly.

“Oh my god,” she started, a laugh edging its way into her voice, “I can’t believe you just did that!”  she giggled, shaking her head with a sweet sigh.  “Oh, you’re absolutely adorable.”  She quickly added the last part, eyes taking in his slowly relaxing stance.  

“Yeah, I guess you can say I’m the epitome of cool.” He ran his hand over the nape of his now burning neck.  Better to laugh it off with some sarcasm than to do nothing.

“Oh definitely,” she affirmed as she turned away, passing gracefully into the closet and leaving him with his embarrassment.

He spared himself another tentative glance in the mirror, a quiet chuckle bubbling up his throat.  He shrugged it off, taking a couple minutes to adjust his sweater and the gold necklace under it before heading back to the master bedroom.

He didn’t expect to lean on the doorframe or watch her for so long, but he’d become so enamored with the scene before him that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.  

She sat on their bed, towel discarded and traded in for her underwear:  a blue bra and panty set from their shopping spree.  Droplets from her wet hair dusted her shoulders as she leaned over to grab her beige bottle of lotion, depositing a few pumps of it into her palm.  She’d just spread it on her hands and began rubbing it over her forearms and shoulders when she made eye contact with him through her lashes.  

“You gonna keep leering at me and leaning on the door like a slut, or is there something I can do for you?”  she baited, a smirk lining her lips.  The lightness in her tone let him know she didn’t mind--if anything, this was another way for her to goad him into some kind of trap where she’d leave him hanging again.  

Not this time.

“No, but there’s something I can do for you,” he said casually, pulling his lips between his teeth as he stalked towards her, not breaking eye contact.  Her hands stuttered their circular motions on her triceps.  She raised her brows, expecting him to follow up his statement with some kind of action. 

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the lotion.  She furrowed her brow for a moment as her eyes flitted from the bottle, back to him, then down at her legs briefly before the realization hit her.  She glanced up to meet his eyes as she nodded.

“Go ahead, Mr. Finger Guns.”  He looked down and shook his head with a grin.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm.”

He sank to his knees and settled to the floor at her feet, slowly dragging the back of his index finger up her shin and over knee as he reached for the lotion.  He’d nearly put a dollop of the creamy stuff on his hands when--

“Oh hold on,”  she said abruptly, reaching out to his wrists and tugging at the navy sleeves nearly swallowing his hands.  “You’re going to get it all over your sweater!”  Her nimble fingers folded the sleeves back once, twice into a neat cuff.  The proper length a sleeve should be.  “There.”  She patted his wrists before setting hers back on the bed.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured.  His ocean eyes flicked up to hers momentarily for permission as he picked up the lotion again, and when she nodded, he put a few pumps on his hands before turning his attention to the work at hand.  

Gingerly, he took her left ankle in his hand, spreading the moisturizer over the back of her freshly shaved calf, his fingers splaying over the skin and applying just enough pressure to spread the satiny salve and massage the muscle simultaneously.  

He leaned forward with a feather light kiss to the inside of her knee before slipping his left hand over it toward her hip.  Her breath hitched and he had to hold back a smirk.  She wasn’t the only one who knew how to put on a show.

His right hand slid up the back of her leg as the other one guided her knee over his shoulder, the movement reminiscent of last night.  He knew it and she knew it--he could tell by the nearly imperceptible shudder in her breath.  His eyes fell shut on their own accord as he brushed his cheekbone up the soft flesh of her knee and inner thigh as his hands roamed the expanse of her skin.  

He easily recalled her whiny pleas, the way she rolled her hips into his face and pulled his hair, and her taste on his tongue with his name falling from hers in a prayer.  For a brief moment, he debated doing it all again:  giving in to the sinful thoughts running rampant through his head and ending their little game earlier than expected.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, he languidly kissed his way down to her ankle and put a respectful distance between them.  Clearing the sexually charged air for only a moment seemed necessary as he resupplied from the bottle and repeated the sensual process on her other leg.  

Just as slow.  Just as intimate.  

When he reached her knee, he spared a glance up at his lover, hoping for some flash of pleasure to cross her features as she looked to the heavens in bliss, a smile, a sigh, a gasp--any morsel of praise that he could greedily drink down and guard close to his heart.  Instead, he met her adoring gaze, which was just as delicious.  His soft smile met hers.  A tiny palm cupped his cheek, and again his eyes fell shut as he leaned into her soft touch, enjoying the way her thumb tenderly brushed over his skin.  

He pressed his lips into the inside of her wrist with as much devotion and endearment he had in his old, romantic, smitten soul. I love you, he nuzzled each word into her skin, praying she could feel him branding the phrase into his lips and sealing it with a kiss.  I love you, I love you, I love you.  

His fingers continued their work kneading circles into the meat of her thigh, over the almost indiscernible hills and valleys that he didn’t know were cellulite, exploring the entirety of her skin.  Despite knowing each and every curve by heart, he wanted to map every inch of her--each scar, stretch mark, mole, and freckle.  Again and again and again.  

Right up to the hem of her panties, that is. 

He pulled away from her reluctantly, his hands trailing back down to her ankles before he went back to the bottle for just a little more.  The way her eyes kept flicking over his kneeling form and how she subconsciously gnawed on her lower lip was not lost on him.  Good, that meant he was doing his job right.

He held her gaze intently as he closed the distance between them, his fingers splaying their way over her hips--he took the moment to gently lean her back, teasing her with the close proximity of their lips, but keeping her pressed into the mattress.  His touch traveled across her stomach, her waist, and her sides, his thumbs grazing just barely beneath the band of her bra.  She squirmed underneath him, sliding her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, a fire sparking in her eyes.  

Maybe he’d indulge a little after all.

Her lips were magnetic:  beckoning him in slowly before colliding with a passion that left him unable to pull away.  As they kissed with practiced perfection, he allowed his slick hand to graze over her decolletage for a fleeting moment.  It found its home at the base of her neck, his long fingers wrapping around and his thumb gently pressing the remaining lotion on his hands into her skin with a back-and-forth motion.  

She breathed a sigh into his mouth, chasing his lips a little as he pulled away.  His tall body still hovered over her small one, trapping her between him and the bed.  A small smile graced her mouth, her eyes scanning over his face.  Happy, content.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  he asked quietly, still stroking the skin on her neck.  

“Just you.”  She brought her hand up to his hair, threading her digits through the curls in a loose hold.  “Why?  You thinking about something, too?”

He breathed out a laugh.  “You really wanna know?”  his voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, throwing in just a little of the southern drawl he knew she loved.  “You sure?”

Her eyes flitted to his lips again as she chewed on her lower lip.  He lowered himself down to her ear achingly slow.  He could feel her chest rise and fall a little faster, each breath just a little shallower than the last.  He had her right where he wanted her.  

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” 

She rolled her eyes and playfully scoffed, “Oh, fuck off!”  

“I told you it was going to get stuck in my head!”  he laughed as he stood up, pulling her with him.  He permitted himself another moment of soaking up her presence, tangling their fingers together and kissing her knuckles.

A blush crept into her cheeks and she bashfully avoided his adoring eyes by fiddling with his makeshift cuffs.  She pulled her hands free of his and unfolded his sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall loosely around his hands again.

“I like it like this.  It’s just…” she met his gaze again, her hand pressing gently into his chest and playing with his loose collar.  “It’s adorable.”

That signature smirk spread on her mouth when she spoke again.  “Plus, it’s long enough to keep you from doing anymore finger guns.”  

“It was one time!”