#heaven honey butter

[guppyslim]

Yeast Bread - Almost Heaven Honey Butter Yeast Rolls Recipe

With a complex, unique sugar profile, these fluffy honey butter yeast rolls are a guaranteed crowd pleasers and taste almost like heaven.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

B-urn

Tags : Fluff then Angst, Smitten Gojo Satoru x F!Reader :), Gojo as a hateful dad, character death.

A/N : I've had enough of soft dad Gojo Satoru, I need some hateful dad Gojo Satoru or something similar to it at least.

WC : 1.7k

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1 " Hey 'toru, Get some peaches on your way back. " " Hey, honey. "

"You're crazy," you whisper speechlessly, pushing a strand of wet hair off your eyes and gazing blankly at Satoru kneeling on the tiled floor with a velvet box in his hand, encasing a sparkly ring inside- both his and your birthstones, you notice.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But one thing's for sure, I never thought I wanted to settle down. But now...now I just can't imagine a future without you," Satoru starts, you've never seen him so genuine of his feelings, so innocently vulnerable like he's gonna shatter if you say no.

"So please, answer my question. Can I marry you and make myself the happiest man to have ever lived?" He continues, gentler this time. You bite your bottom lip, holding a sob back as you nod, too afraid that you'll fall apart if you speak. You nod once again, feeling warmth envelop your skin as Satoru throws himself at you and peppers your face with kisses- 'Thank you's' and 'I love you's' slipping out his mouth like butter on a heated pan as he slips the ring on your finger.

You clear your throat, backing away as you look at the ring glint under the light with a smile," it's beautiful, Satoru. I love it but next time, please don't propose to me in the bathroom when I'm fresh out of the shower," you say with a wide grin on your face, tugging the towel around you to secure its position again. Satoru responds with a huge grin of his own, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck," Couldn't wait for tonight's date, I've waited long enough for this," he mumbles, placing soft kisses against your damp skin.

"Tha-," he shuts you up with his lips, "Okay, fine. Sorry, I'll keep the destination in mind next time," he apologizes with a sheepish grin but you know better than that, he's not the least bit sorry.

2 " I'm going shopping with your mum for my wedding dress today, I might be a little late. " " I hope you're doing fine "

The wedding was perfect from start to finish, the Gojo clan doing all the grunt work while the two of you made the final call at the end. Everything was perfect for Satoru, especially you. He even tears up a little when he watches you walk down the aisle towards him- muted giggles echoing in the enclosed wedding hall at his reaction. He had his blindfold removed for the day despite the fact that the shards of decorated glass and bright lights irritated his six eyes, a small sacrifice for the greater good.

The greater good being getting a better look at you, every blemish, every scar and every battle wound peeking out of your wedding dress was perfection to him. His heart tap-dancing in his chest when he meets your eyes, absolutely smitten for the look of pure joy in your face when your father finally rests your hand on Satoru's and the officiant starts the wedding, his words falling on deaf ears when Satoru chooses to gaze at you with adoration in his eyes instead.

Popping out of his reverie when your sparkling eyes meets his and a smile tugs at your lips," You're supposed to say 'I do' now," you whisper, squeezing his hand. "I do," his voice rings, loud and clear, squeezing your hand back after you do the same.

"You may kiss the bride." Finally.

"My wife," he thinks to himself happily before pulling you in and crushing your lips against his, the cheers from the crowd gradually turning into background noise, getting lost in the feeling of your warmth against his. He breaks the kiss only when thunder erupts and the pitter-patter of the rain starts loud and ominously, he turns and looks at you worriedly only to be left surprised when you look back at him with delight.

"Looks like even the heavens are blessing our wedding now," you hum, pulling him by the arm towards the door to the large balcony. Pushing the door open and dragging him towards the middle of the open balcony with a grin, the heavy rain immediately drenching the two of you- you let go of his arm, turning to face him with a hand held out," Can I have this dance?" a teasing grin on your face, Satoru swears his heart actually stopped for a second; grabbing hold of your hand, he places a quick kiss on your knuckles," gladly."

Gently swaying in the rain to the music drifting from the wedding hall, Satoru couldn't be happier. He's the happiest man to have ever lived when in your arms.

3 " 'll make breakfast tomorrow though, you want anything? " " I'm not sure if I told you this enough but "

Getting pregnant 3 years after your marriage wouldn't have been a surprising thing but it was for the two of you considering the fact that you went at it like rabbits. You wanted kids, he didn't, heirs and other matters be damned. He wanted you to himself for as long as possible, hoard your attention and love for as long as he could before you finally put your foot down.

The dreaded day arrived sooner than he liked, he'd have preferred another 7 years alone with you but you didn't give in this time. Adamant on bearing his child and starting a family, how could he ever say no to you? So he gives in and fucks you with a new goal in mind- getting you pregnant with his child.

Two weeks later, your breathe hitches as you look at the stick in your hand- you're pregnant. Excited squeals gushing out of you, you rush out the bathroom and to the shared master bedroom where you hold the pregnancy test up at Satoru's face. He looks at you with mild shock in his face," already?" He asks softly, taking the stick from your hand and looking at it blankly, sitting down on the edge of the bed besides him, you nod excitedly," We're gonna be parents, s'toru!"

Before you know it, he throws the test aside on the floor, pulling you in his arms and crushing you under his weight as he presses kisses all over your flushed face," we're gonna be parents!" You giggle, hands cupping his cheeks to slow down the barrage of kisses. Satoru still wasn't really sure about the idea of a child yet but your joy at the thought of it was enough for him to push that idea aside, what you wanted was what he wanted, it's a universal rule.

"We gotta celebrate this now, don't we?" He mumbles, hands slowly sliding under your shirt with a smirk, earning him a swat against his chest. "Gosh, you're disgusting," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him in. "And you love me for it, Mama," he coos, pressing a light kiss at the corner of your lips- your heart swells at the thought of being a mother, you were finally gonna start a family of your own with the man you love, life couldn't get any better.

4 " It might rain today so call me when you're done, okay? I'll come pick you up. " " I love you so much "

Fear and respect, two sides of the same coin, was easy to come by when it came to Gojo Satoru, hating even easier but what was hard was loving him, harder than it should be- Loving him was like climbing up a snowy mountain with nothing but a fork, Loving him was like crossing the seven seas with only a raft, Loving him was like trying to figure out what to do with a beloved china bowl that got smashed into pieces. It was nigh impossible to love him, anyone who did try gave up halfway through, only leaving him worse still. But everything changed once you came along.

You didn't climb the snowy mountain with a fork, not at all. You just waited long enough for a ski lift to be built for skiing enthusiasts and then took the lift yourself. You gave him time to adapt, time to breathe before finally making your way through the icy remnants of his scarred heart.

You didn't travel the seven seas with a raft, not at all. You just sold the raft and bought yourself a ticket for a worldwide cruise, enjoying every single moment on the long trip back to him. You gave him patience and waited happily for him to come around.

You didn't just accept your fate to pick the broken china pieces and throw it in the bin, not at all. You just gently assembled it and glazed it with lacquer, painstakingly painting over every crack with gold. You didn't fix him, you just accepted all of his broken pieces, that's all - the rest he did it himself.

It wasnt the fact that you took the easy way out, not at all. It was the fact that you put the effort to think about ways to love him- It was always hard to love Satoru, you just made it easy. So if someone asks Satoru why he loves you so, all he does is smile and answers " no reason at all." He just loves everything about you, he doesn't need a reason to do so.

5 " You don't sound so well, is everything okay? " " More than you could ever know "

20 weeks, 5 months, into your pregnancy and Satoru's already starting to feel uneasy, the change is small, unnoticeable to the normal eye even. But the change is there, his six eyes catching everything. You've gotten weaker, not externally per se but internally. He brings it up once when the two of you cuddle in the bed, you laugh and brush it off by saying," it's only natural." He's not convinced but he doesn't push it, opting to graze the curve of your cheek instead.

Something was really wrong, very, very wrong- You've been rapidly losing weight, the complete opposite of what should be happening. The growing baby bump only makes you grow thinner, finding it hard to even do the basic things, having to rely on Satoru for everything. He'd have been delighted on being relied on some other time but this time he's not, he's more concerned than anything.

The trip to the doctors doesnt change a single thing, every single one of them saying the same thing over and over and over again. "She's fine, just a rare case. It's better than it looks, 'ts just an uncommon case of weight loss during pregnancy." He swears its not, the very molecules that makes up you seems to be slowly but steadily gathering and surrounding one particular place, your belly but how could they know that? They were normal doctors, not some omniscient sorcerer like him.

So he grits his teeth, quietly holding your hand and holding onto his last hope, Shoko. Despite it not being her area of expertise, he can only hope for the best afterall she was a sorcerer too, she has to have the ability to figure it out...doesn't she? All hope comes crashing down when Shoko shakes her head, there was nothing wrong with you, the final verdict.

" I told you, didn't I? It's just an uncommon case, honey. You're too paranoid," you grin and tiredly pat his hand, boney fingers brushing against his. Your engagement ring and wedding ring hanging around a chain on your neck glistens blindingly under the stark hospital light- it became too loose to fit you anymore. Satoru feels slight prickles in his eyes from underneath the blindfold, he doesn't know why but he does. Forcing a tight smile at you, he nods," You might be right dear, but you know I can't help it when it comes to you," he mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles to hide his falling smile. You chuckle lightly, flushing at the contact," You're such a silly man, 'toru. "

6 " Hmm? Oh I'm fine, don't worry. How's work though? " " And I swear I've tried, I really have "

Problems over problems befall, the number of curses quickly increasing exponentially with no rhyme or reason and the higher-ups pressuring him from all side was taking a toll on him, not to mention your declining health. You looked healthier now, taking the supplements that Shoko provided helped you not look like you were gonna fall dead at any given moment. A farce, Satoru notes, you're healthier on the outside, dying on the inside. He even contemplates getting rid of the thing inside you completely but as if like you read his mind, telepathically catching onto his thoughts, you become more protective.

Hands always wrapped around your belly and eyes instinctively following his every movement, always on sharp alert. Waiting for something to happen, you're not entirely sure for what but you wait. Catching onto your guarded attitude, Satoru drops the idea immediately. He doesn't want you to hate him, he'd die if you did and even he's not sure if he means it figuratively.

He makes sure to coo at your belly every night though, sure he doesn't want a child but that didn't mean he didn't feel any love for it despite the toll it took on you. He just hates it as a husband and loves it as a father- hates it even more as a lover. Hiding his slowly growing apprehension of the unborn child inside you with a mask of an excited father-to-be.

You know Satoru acts off this days especially when he interacts with the baby but you don't say anything, he's a busy man and you were currently out of service which meant double the work, you couldn't possibly have the right to ask him what's wrong, right?

7 " 'Toru, don't worry about me. I'm not mad, I promise. Just try to get your business trip finish a little faster okay? " " So please don't hate me too much "

You're a nervous wreck, anxiety fully settling deep in your bones despite the contractions. The pain was doing nothing to alleviate the turmoil inside you other than making it worse, 7 hours in after your water broke and Satoru is nowhere in sight- you're nervous, in pain and surrounded by strangers. Shoko was kicked out, 'only family members are allowed in' they said, despite your pleas they ignore you. They were gonna have hell to pay later until then you had to push through it by yourself, it couldn't possibly get any worse.

Biting down on your lips after screaming your throat hoarse, you squeeze your eyes shut, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with the metallic ones on your lips only making you want to gag. Slowly, loud words starts to blur and dim as your vision gets hazy, drifting in and out of your consciousness while barely catching sight of the figures hovering around you," I see the head!" One particularly loud statement snaps you back into reality, everything ending too quickly from there with still no sign of your husband anywhere.

With the first cry resounding in the room, your heart rate falls rapidly; the once searing pain only a throb now, a small respite but an unwelcoming one. You wish for the numbing chill to be replaced for the burning pain, praying for the latter if it meant that you could still breathe in the scent of his skin, still comb your fingers through arctic white hair, still stare into his cerulean blue eyes, still lay your head above hi- "I'm sorry" a hushed whisper in the chaos.

The high-pitched beeps flatlines, parallel lines all in all. The silence is too loud and the air too thick, working their way to restart a heart that's already dead and gone. Somewhere in the distance another heart drops, not with the promise of death but of something much worse. What use is a beating heart if the soul is already dead?

8 " I'm sorry I couldn't make it, I swear I tried " " But I can't do it "

Satoru doesn't hate her. No, he abhors her. The feeling of complete hatred and malice against an individual- every babble, every cry, every coo, her very existence disgusts him to the core. Somedays he just wants to snap her neck, it'd be so easy, so quick, so satisfying, so very dreadful. Somedays Satoru even considers it, his long slender fingers wrapping around her small sleeping figure and squeezing just a little, just a twitch but her eyes always flutters open, always gazes at him with a smile, always holds her chubby little arms out to him.

It's not her smile, her voice or his guilty conscience that stops him, it's her eyes. Your eyes. The curve, the shape, the color, the very crinkle reminds him of you, your eyes are staring back at him but it's not you. It'll never be you. Pulling his hand back like he got burned, he rushes out. It's what he always does these days, he runs and runs until he can't anymore, hoping that maybe somewhere along the way, he'll finally find you again.

You're so cruel and so very heartless, if you were gonna leave him in the end you should've never made him love you at all but you did, you did and he loves you. He loves you and you left.

Satoru is always bitter, maybe if she didn't have your eyes then maybe it'd be easier to get rid of her, maybe it'd be easier for him to move on. But you're always there, your first gift being her last saving grace. Your eyes, your first, your life, your last. Maybe you knew about it, you always did say that you wanted a baby that looked like you. He never bothered to ask why because he agreed with you, he always agrees with you, but now he seems to understand why, you always did understand him better than he did himself.

So all he does is mourn, he mourns but he doesn't cry- he didn't cry when he got the news of your death neither did he cry when he saw your body, not a single tear in sight. He just silently stood by your side, gently grazing your face with a finger, hands interlocked with yours until your last moment. And like all sorcerers fate, he watched your body get cremated until nothing but ashes were left in the end. Silently making his way back to a dark and empty house with nothing but the urn of your ash in his hand. He still doesn't cry when he hugs the urn close to his chest and stares at your side of the bed late into the night, he doesn't cry at all.

He doesn't cry because he can't cry. Tears are the embodiment of an emotion, what use are they for a man who's already gone numb?

9 " I love you " " I can't love her "

"Hiiii, 'toru"

"Hey, honey."

"How's everything over there?"

"She's growing up fast, you'd be surprised. She has my hair, y'know? Well, the color at least. It's funny how she's starting to resemble me, it's almost uncanny. She has your eyes though, it's like she copy-pasted your eyes onto hers, it's almost scary because it feels like it's you thats looking back at me sometimes. And well, she started going school now; just wanted to let you know that-"

"Well, that's sounds fun"

"...it's really not, not without you here"

"Aww, you miss me that much~?"

"I do, I miss you so much that it physically hurts"

"Aww I miss you too, honey. Tell you wha-"

Satoru sighs, cutting the saved voice message. What was he even doing, answering to your pre-recorded voice like a deranged person. But maybe he was deranged or tired perhaps both, he's not sure but what he was sure of was the fact that he hated he-

"Papa?"

Satoru hears before he sees, the door swinging open ever so slightly to showcase a pair of eyes, your eyes, meekly looking at him. Your eyes in his face but it's not you neither is it him, it's neither you or him but it's both you and him. It's so conflicting.

"What is it?" His voice softer than he wanted it, harsher than expected.

"I just wanted to show you the drawing I made today in class." Her voice is quiet, her footsteps even quieter as she slowly walks up to him, a rolled up paper carefully held in one tiny fist. She was so small, so tiny, so quiet, so utterly disgusting. Placing it down flat ever so quietly on the table, she takes a step back "It's you, me and...mama" she mumbles, pointing at the three stick figures accordingly.

Satoru pulls his blindfold up and narrows his eyes at the stick figure that was apparently you, your hair was wrong, the color, the length, the very style was wrong. "I-I don't know how mama looks like" she admits, tiny hands grabbing onto her shirt as she looks down.

"Of course, you don't. You killed her, sucked her life-force right out like a fucking parasite" he thinks bitterly to himself, fingers grazing over the paper. Everything was wrong, this whole situation was wrong, but the crudely drawn smile on your face wasn't. The smile wasn't, your smile wasn't. The edges of the crayon smile was raised just perfectly, you smiled just like that, always did even when he-

"Papa?" She calls out, eyes peeking through the soft tufts of arctic white hair- Satoru clears his throat, quietly re-adjusting his blindfold before nodding quickly "it's good, good job." He says, fingers gently outlining the curve of the crayon smile- it's what you would've said to her had you been the one in his place so it's what he'll say to her in your place. "You may leave now"

And don't ever come back.

She nods, reaching out for her drawing but Satoru shakes his head, tugging it closer to him which earns him a surprised reaction, something hopeful glinting in her eyes as she nods and quietly scurries out the door. He sighs when the door closes with a click, standing up and rummaging through his office for a spare frame. You'd have framed it and gushed about it had you been there but you weren't so the least he could do was frame it, he's framing it because it's what you would've done, it's what you would've wanted him to do.

He can't love her for you, he loves you and he'd do anything for you but loving her for you? He can't do that, he's more selfish than that.

Satoru sighs as he carefully puts the drawing in the frame, it's what you would've wanted, it's what you would've done. So he'll do it for you because it's you that loved her.

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THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM FINALLY BACK! I ALSO FOUND A PARTTIME JOB! YAY! Gonna take a lot to buy a new laptop though so wish me luck!

Masterlist

[toruro]

— ✧ flower me with love

an hhu unit x flowers collection !

status: in progress — 1/4 completed

a/n: please keep in mind the descriptions and genres are subject to change! nothing here, unless already posted, is final

join the taglist here!

— ✧ of love, laughter, and lies (coming soon)

violets; stars will blossom in the darkness, violets bloom beneath the snow

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: smut (18+), fluff, angst, humor, revenge(?), college au

description: classic story of boy breaks girl’s heart so her best friend tries to break his. of course, what she doesn’t plan for is falling in love, because who the fuck plans for that.

— ✧ say yes to heaven (coming soon)

daffodils; if one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: smut (18+), fluff, angst, exes to lovers, idol au

description: wonwoo still hits up your phone in the middle of the night, nevermind the fact that you two broke up three months ago ... or, in which you and wonwoo may have your differences, but both can't seem to stay away from each other.

— ✧ back to december

daisies; find beauty in the smallest things

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

genre: smut (18+), fluff, angst, best friends to strangers to lovers, small town au

description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.

Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if— Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries. You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.

— ✧ sticks and stones (up next)

chrysanthemums; the chrysanthemum spirit

sticks and stones may break my bones, but words, they truly bruise my soul

pairing: vernon chwe x reader

genre: smut (18+), stranger to lovers, fluff, bookstore worker reader, idol au

description: to come

His lips are honey on your skin, pressing soft kisses all over your face, tongue nipping every once in a while to draw a map of stars. “The aim of love,” he whispers into your skin. There is a silence for a moment, and you weave your fingers into his soft locks, with an utmost gentleness, not wanting to ruin the moment. “Is to love,” he continues, pulling his head up to stare down at you. His lips are rosy and glossy from his assault on your skin, your cheeks a similar color. “No more.” “No less,” you finish for him.

[cvnt4him]

Live for the applause

Tiny thingy thing I decided to write bc can't NO ONE. Tell me izuku midoriya doesn't love the fact everyone loves him.[debating if I wanna make this a whole fic]

Warnings; izuku x f!reader, praise k!nk, v@ginal fingering, reader calls zuzu a good boy.

Growing up izuku didn't get much love from anyone besides his mother, she was all he genuinely had, so you can imagine how thirsty and desperate he was for more of the delicious praise he received from others.

"oh izuku, you're so strong!"

"midoriya, you're so manly!!"

Izuku this, midoriya that. No matter what the praise was, he enjoyed it. He lived for it, and thrived in it. It was all he could ever hope for.

But sooner or later it began to not be as special anymore. like the joy and thrill he would get from being praised by commoners is simply..gone.

However, when you and izuku got closer he began to enjoy the smallest things about you and what you'd do.

From the way you smiled, your loud laugh, your grumpy faces, how you eat, and more.

Everything about you was simply mesmerizing.

One time whilst you guys were having lunch together, he had opened your soda for you, simply because you didn't feel like doing it yourself. (Not that you'd ever need to again w your big n strong zuzu around!!)

He handed it back to you with no problem, not expecting anything in return. Nor for you to thank him it was just a decent gesture between friends.

"thank you, zu. You're so strong!" You tease and coo at him with a honey like voice. rolling your eyes at your words.

Well shit.

That really got him going.

He was a mess, a sloppy, mushy, flustered mess.

He couldn't stop stuttering over his words, and moving his hands and arms about, attempting to cover his reddening face.

So many people call izuku strong nowadays, he doesn't get affected by it anymore. But when you.. oh you, say something as common and basic as that, a compliment he receives from every little old lady, to teen girls in high school, to every woman his age, all the time whilst on patrol and doing simple deeds, telling him he's strong. even if you were just teasing, it got him going.

So much that before either of you knew it, he was on top of you in his dorm making out with you, shoving his tongue down your throat whilst whimpering, eager for more of you.

He was so needy, the noises he made were so lewd and dirty, you were surprised it came from him. Sweet moans leaving his soft plush lips like slippery butter. The ultimate golden boy, a symbol of hope and a beacon of light, a smile that shines so bright that it could light a boats way through a terrible storm.

He was so excited to be doing something like this, with you too?? Oh yeah, he was in heaven. He was absolutely smitten about you, and when you give the slightest praise, or even just a lick of your attention, he's a mess.

With that being said, you began kissing along his jawline moving further down his neck, rubbing your hand on his chest through his shirt, feeling along his well toned chest. (canon he works out)

He shivered at your touch wanting more. Hell, want is an understatement compared to the absolute bliss he was feeling from just your touch, getting drunk off of it, he craved you. He longed for you in the most devious and disgustingly unholy ways.

But he also wanted to hold you, caress you, gently and soothingly rub circles into your back and tell you everything would be okay while he's here.

But even with wanting all of those sweet like pie moments, he knew what he longed for more...

He whined at your touches, moving your hand further down his body until he stops it right above his cock, awaiting for a reply or some type of sign to know you want exactly what he needs.

You giggled at his bold movements before pulling him into you, his face burying itself into your neck.

"I have another idea." You coo into his ear in the softest most soothing tone ever.

Hes like a prince under your evil spell, and he has no intentions of breaking out of it.

You grab his hand before pulling it up to your lips, kissing the scars that scatter his hand, looking into his eyes lovingly.

This breaks him ultimately, he fights back a ton of emotions, not wanting to ruin the mood with tears, while watching what you do closely. You continue moving his hand down your body, grazing lightly over your boobs, then your tummy, and eventually over your thighs and what's between them.

You open your legs, which almost makes his body drop on top of you, however he holds himself on his elbow, making sure to not fall on you while you occupy his other hand.

You move his hand in between your thigh, his fingers gliding softly between the flesh, the warm, welcoming, soft to the touch, flesh. And it was yours. Oh you, how he wanted to please you so. How he yearned for your voice to get him there, that bliss he knew he needed.

But as for now, he'd wait. He'd be patient, and let you control him. Anything you wanted. Needed. He'd do.

All for you.

You glared at him. Eyes staring directly into his deep emerald eyes that shine oh so bright and look oh so eager to please. You, and only you.

You stopped his hand suddenly, and in an instant he whimpered. Looking into your eyes pleasing, begging you to bring his hand where he wanted it most.

All you can do is giggle at his reaction, the sweetest and neediest sound leaving his lips.

"do you want to touch me, zuzu?" You whisper to him your eyes never leaving his during this intimate moment.

"yes.." his voice hushed and barely above a whisper.

You hummed letting go of him and leaning back on your hands against the pillows, he takes that as a sign to do whatever he wants.

With a nervous gulp, he finally touches your wet slit, getting flushed at the fact you weren't wearing any panties.

He rubs his fingers gently up and down on your slit letting one of his fingers spread your lips slowly and gently touching your intimate area.

Your soft breathy moans. Closing your eyes, you weren't expecting such little movements to get you going this much, guess you were just as excited as he is.

He puts his finger all the way inside pulling it in and out slowly at a steady pace that makes your brain melt. How you needed more. His fingers are so thick and longer than yours.

There was no way you could go back to fingering yourself after having his inside of you.

You lean back more taking what he's giving you, he can tell you're enjoying yourself by the way your moans go from breathy to more loud, your voice going up in octave as, surprisingly, you're so close to coming.

He could tell by the way you were tightening around his finger, that you were gonna come. He wanted.. needed, you to come hard on his fingers.

He added another finger and sped up his movements, pushing them in and out at an even quicker pace, guiding you through your upcoming orgasm.

"oh gosh, izuku.." you moan just loud enough for anyone who were to walk by his dorm to hear.

He was at a loss for words, he has you, in his dorm, In his bed, nearing your climax, as he finger fucks you through it.

There really was a god, and he had just blessed izuku with you.

He wanted to speak to you really, he wanted to tell you to come hard for him, come so hard on his finger you see stars, but he couldn't, his throat had suddenly gotten terribly dry.

So instead he bit his and put his other hand on your lower stomach and presses down gently.

His warm hand on your tummy, pressing down oddly felt good to you, the pressure being applied adding more pleasure to your upcoming climax. you were so close you could practically taste it.

You pull him closer into you and hushed moans into his ear, whimpering and rolling your eyes with a smile on your lips whilst chewing on your lower one.

"come on izuku, make me cum baby.." you whisper with breathy moans taking over the end of your speech as he did exactly what you asked with expertise.

Still not speaking,he curls his fingers up inside of you while taking his hand off of your tummy to pay attention to your clit, he rubbed soft, fast circles on the little bud, matching the pace of the thrusts of his fingers.

And finally you came hard on his fingers, body arching and jolting into his.

You groaned sweetly into his ear as you held onto like your life depended on it.

He wanted you to see stars. And by the way your eyes were rolled back and how deep your teeth were into your bottom lip, he could tell he successfully made you see the bright stars that blinded and blurred your vision.

You practically saw the whole milky way, just from his odd expertise in fingering.

You sigh looking up at him with a smile still on your lower lip and bite marks slightly on it as well.

"good boy zuzu."

Izuku couldn't help but smile back, with glossy eyes like a dumbfounded puppy, his invisible tail wagging at an extreme speed.

You were kind of confused about his eyes at how glossy they were.

You shrugged it off mentally and looked down toward his pants to see a tent and a wet patch on his pants.

His face instantly burning in a deep shade of red at the sight of you eyeballing his clothed cock.

"oh sweet zuzu.." you say softly rubbing his chest still looking down at his member.

You giggle looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

"did you cum your pants, love?" You say simply not really expecting an answer since well.. it's him.

And you were right. No answer, just him whimpering and pushing you down into the bed and climbing onto you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He sighs through his nose as you feel the warmth pool in the area as you sigh in comfort as a sudden familiar wave of ultimate comfort washes over you.

The both of you doze off an icky sticky mess<3

AN; I hope this was enjoyed, I wrote this originally in like? January and just finished it at like 2 am so.. yeah!

[asunflowerana]

"Fried or grilled chicken for tonight?"

"Uhm—" a hurried grunt can be heard from the other line, followed by the sounds of slashing and inhuman shrieks. He must still be busy. "Uhm, grilled is good, honey. What's the side dish?"

"Cheesy mashed potatoes and tomato sauce, just the way you like it." You close the fridge door, holding the phone with your free hand while the other arm carries the pot of fresh seasoned chicken you prepared a few hours ago. You organize the counter with all the ingredients, pan pre-heating with butter.

"Perfect." There are a few more distant grunts, but you can still understand your husband's approval, making you proceed with your dinner plans. "Don't forget to lower the heat, in case you want to practice your dance moves again."

"That was one time, Kento!" You sulk, not like being called out for grooving in the kitchen. Did you burn a few things back then? Yes, but who didn't? It was your favorite pop playlist, your body went on its own!

Making sure your phone stays still well between your ear and shoulder blade, you land the first filet of chicken breast on the hot pan, a not-so-usual sizzling sound taking place in the room. Yep, let's definitely lower the heat, you move your fingers around the knob. "I won't burn our food again, smarty pants. Stop bullying your wife."

But you can't stay mad at him for too long. Not when you feel his deep, breathless chuckles flowing right inside your ear, into your mind and heart, making your stomach flutter like a scholar girl just like every single time. "I'm sorry honey, you're right. Your food 's heaven, burned or not."

Letting out a last huff, you roll your eyes, feeling your lips curve in a lopsided smile. You bet Nanami has a similar one on his face right now. "How long 'til you come home?"

There's a small pause, filled with lowly breaths and the far sound of crickets. Maybe he finished what he was dealing with. "45 minutes from now. Think you can hold tight?"

"You're not deserving, but I'll make an effort." Now you hear the perfect form of a snicker, making you wish you could kiss it away and fill that pretty cheeky face with even more kisses. You miss your husband. "Come safe, 'kay? I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, honey. Stay safe."

And the red finish button is pressed. Nanami carefully returns the device inside his pocket, now investing his whole attention on the last, persistent curse gaping at him behind a pillar, thinking it could catch him out of guard.

Rubbing of the remains of blood coming from a small cut on his jaw, he roughly loosen the tight knot of his tie that you so lovingly did this morning. He needs to move without restraints if he wants to get the next subway, though.

"Let's finish for today, shall we?"

And like every weekday, Kento makes it on time.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated 🦋

© asunflowerana 2024

[bakedbakermom]

Good Morning

Rated X // 2300 words // Read on A03

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Summary:

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Notes:

A little smutbiscuit for Kinktober 2023. Prompts: morning sex, frottage, (light) somno. I was 3 or 4 days into writing this fic when the painfully talented @msrafterdark posted this piece and it was like fate and the universe had come together.

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Well, he loves her all the time—volleying theories back and forth across the office over burnt coffee and crappy photocopies, singing along off-key to whatever radio station comes through the static three hours into a road trip from one corner of nowhere to another, lounging on a tiny motel bed with sharp springs and a pile of reports spread out like snow across scratchy blankets. He loves her on his couch sharing a beer after a long day, in her kitchen as they dole out boxes of takeaway (broccoli beef extra spicy for him, kung pao tofu for her, and she always nabs the carrots from his shrimp fried rice), nestled against him with her tiny feet propped up on the coffee table and a bad movie on TV. He loves her when she presses her sweet lips to his and breathes hot into his mouth, when she wraps her smooth white legs around his waist and whimpers “more,” when she clenches around him in the dark as she shatters on a gasp of his name. Oh yes, he definitely loves her then.

But he especially loves her first thing in the morning.

It’s something about how soft she is. Agent Scully is all crisp lines and barbed tongue, the creases of her suits pressed sharp enough to kill a man as she slices through the hallways of the Hoover Building like a red-headed sword of justice, eyes flashing blue steel. Agent Scully can unman the most cantankerous and blustering small-town sheriff with the twitch of one razored brow, can force Death itself at scalpel-point to surrender the most intimate secrets of the grave.

Agent Scully flashes through her days like a machete, too sharp to touch and so blindingly bright it hurts him to look at her sometimes. But Morning Scully. Oh Morning Scully…

Her edges blur in the evening, melting under his words and his mouth and his hands, but it takes until morning for her to grow butter-soft and creamy between the rumpled sheets of their bed—her bed or his, both are theirs, though this particular morning they’re secure behind door 42, the honeyed sunlight of a rare empty Sunday drizzling through the blinds and illuminating the intricate dance of the little dust motes that hang in the air. She sleeps on her side with her back to the window, the light catching her crimson hair in a nimbus that he thinks would inspire a better man to painting or poetry, but reduces him to gibbering wonderment.

He watches her sleep with something like awe. Her lips slack and slightly parted, still plump and red from kissing. Freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across her sleep-pinked cheeks, hair in a delightfully tousled disarray that makes him think of sunset clouds and cotton candy. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as if she’s dreaming of something unpleasant, and he smoothes it oh so gently with his thumb. He doesn’t want to wake her; he’s not done looking yet. 

The sheets have shifted as they slept, revealing the hourglass curve of her side, the mole cradled just inside the firm crest of her hip. She had whimpered last night as he tongued it, a long detour on his slow journey to the oasis between her thighs. Her body is ripe with secrets to explore, his mental map of her slowly filling in as he traverses every hill and valley. He writes “here be monsters” beneath her ribs where she is too ticklish to touch, “here be angels” on the curve of her breast where the gentle scrape of his teeth makes her breath hitch. He finds heaven in the cradle of her hips, nirvana in the fragrant skin of her neck, paradise in the lush press of her lips.

Morning Scully may be soft, but Morning Mulder is getting decidedly less so by the minute.

She stirs slightly and rolls onto her back, the sheet slipping down the slope of her breast. One rosey nipple emerges into the cool morning air, pebbling quickly into a tantalizing peak, and he can’t resist anymore. He leans over her and circles it gently with his tongue, then pulls it into his mouth. He licks and sucks, feeling her flesh tighten even more, and when he scrapes his teeth against it, her chest jumps beneath him. She sucks in a breath, and her hands come up to card slowly through his hair. “Morning, Mulder,” she murmurs, her words still slurred with sleep.

“Good morning, Scully,” he answers as his mouth slides wetly to her other breast, on which he lavishes the same attention as the first, the slow and thorough consideration of his lips and teeth and tongue. Her breathing quickens, her pulse jumping visibly beneath the soft skin of her throat, and she moans low and long. He runs one hand up her leg, and her thighs part with a contented sigh; his fingers move higher until they brush against the curls of her sex, parting them to reach the hot, slick slit beneath. Morning Scully is always putty in his hands, her limbs loose and heavy, making love to him like something from a dream. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmhmm.” Her hips move in small circles as he plays between her legs, right on the line between soothing and arousing, and a blush blooms across her chest. “Wh-what time’s it?”

“Late.” He kisses his way up her neck, suckles on her earlobe until she whimpers softly. She still hasn’t opened her eyes. “I let you sleep in as long as I could stand it. Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His fingers skim her entrance and she twitches beneath him. “This is a nice way to wake up.”

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Her face scrunches adorably, and she makes a grumpy whining sound in her throat. “Maybe?”

He smiles into her skin, presses his fingers just barely inside her. “Do you want me to stop while you figure it out?”

Eyes still closed, lower lip between her teeth, she smiles and shakes her head. 

Her body is sleep-warm and limp as he drags her thigh over his hip, opening her to him. His erection presses into the firm flesh of her ass as he strokes her, coaxing her arousal slowly to life. He slides his fingers through the slick folds of her sex, coating them in her wetness; some of it must be from last night, when he had pressed her into the cushions of the creaking leather couch and come inside her with a cry that made the upstairs neighbor bang on the ceiling—and then again, in this bed, as she rode him like a prize pony until they both came apart at the seams. She clenched around him like a vise as they came together, and the way he spasmed inside her only set her off again, until their orgasms seemed to feed off each other in an ouroboros of pleasure that felt endless and left them both gasping, shaking, too exhausted to even roll off the wet spot, let alone clean up properly.

She’s slick halfway down her thighs.

“Fuck, Scully, you’re so wet. You feel so good.” He slides his tongue into her ear and one finger into her slippery, aching heat, and her neck arches off the bed. “You felt good last night, too, especially the second time”—and now he scrapes his teeth along the shell of her ear, slides a second finger alongside the first—“when your pussy was already full of my cum, when I could feel it leaking out of you as I fucked you.”

“Jesus, Mulder,” she gasps, and spreads herself open even more, hooking her leg behind him and shifting a little onto her side. He holds her across her stomach and gathers her partly on top of him; her head falls back on his shoulder so he can tongue the soft column of her throat, nibble the sweet ridge along her collarbone. He ruts against her as his fingers pump slowly in and out, her clit hardening beneath his thumb. One arm is still trapped against the mattress, and he wriggles it free as best he can to fondle her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

She moans, squirming against him and pushing her ass deliciously against his hard length, begging for more. A quick shift of her hips, an awkward moment of fumbling, and then his cock is no longer trapped between their bodies but gliding between her slickened labia, and she brings a hand down to press him more tightly against her. He thrusts languidly, trapped between her hot little fingers and her even hotter cunt; he skims across her entrance with each stroke, rubs the head of his cock against her clit, her hips rolling in counterpoint to his sweet, unhurried rhythm. She reaches backward to grab his hair, whimpering, and his newly unoccupied hand busies itself at her other breast, groping and tweaking them in tandem.

“I love making you feel good, Scully.” His voice is velvet and gravel, his cock almost painfully hard against her molten core, and he talks to keep from embarrassing himself by coming before he’s even gotten inside her. “I love making you wet, feeling your clit pulse under my fingers, my tongue.” He licks her from shoulder to ear, leaving a glistening line of saliva along her skin, then sucks on the sensitive little spot where her jaw meets her throat. Soft little oh s spill from her lips as she grinds harder against his cock, and stars crowd his vision. “I love making you come, over and over. The sounds that you make, the way you smell, the way you squeeze me with your tight, wet cunt. ”

“Oh God.” Her whole body shudders and he feels a warm trickle of arousal coat his cock. Her face turns into the pillow, muffling the increasing volume of her moans. Greedy for the sound of her, he cups her jaw to pull her into a long, sloppy kiss, swallowing each whimper as she writhes against him with growing desperation.

“Are you awake yet, Scully?”

“Yes,” she pants helplessly against his mouth, his cock gliding between her soaked folds with almost no resistance. Soft, wet sounds fill the room, broken only by her breathy moans, his desperate panting. “More,” she manages to gasp. “God, more.”

His arm tightens around her stomach, and in one smooth move he drags her fully on top of him and scoots until his back is against the headboard. Her thighs fall to either side of his and he spreads her wide, his thick cock still thrusting along her slickened sex. She drops her head back against his shoulder and he growls, “Touch yourself,” into her ear.

A moment of hesitation, a deepening blush in her cheeks, and then she obeys. He watches her hand moving in quick tight circles over her clit, brushing the head of his cock as he slides it up and down the length of her. He slips just barely inside and she cries out, chasing him with her body when he withdraws, teasing her again and again. She gasps his name between casual blasphemies, notes in a symphony of moans and whimpers. “I want you inside me,” she finally begs. Her hand is slick with her own arousal as she wraps it around his cock, pumping him slowly, holding him against her entrance. She arches back to kiss him, plunges her tongue into his mouth, unable to stop the embarrassingly high-pitched whines coming from her throat. “Fuck, Mulder, I need you inside me when I come.”

“I live to serve,” he purrs against her mouth, and thrusts firmly upward, impaling her in one smooth motion. A loud cry pours from her throat—the neighbors are definitely going to complain again—and then she’s riding him for all she’s worth, her hips rolling and the muscles in her thighs clenching as she gallops toward release.

“Yes, oh God, Mulder, yes,” she gasps again and again, breathless and wanton, her tits bouncing in his hands as he pinches her nipples and her fingers making ever-more-frantic circles over her clit. “Close, so close, harder—”

Her words melt into a loud moan as he begins to plunge into her from below, his feet braced against the bed for leverage and his cock bumping against her cervix with every stroke. “Yes, Scully,” he hisses into her ear. “I want to feel it. Fuck me until you come.”

She’s tight and clenching around him, hotter than hell and slicker than sin, and his hand leaves her breast to join her fingers, stroking her clit together. He bites her nape, hard, and with a startled “ Oh! ” she shatters, her inner walls squeezing his cock in strong, rhythmic flutters as she gushes around him.

“Christ, Scully, did you just–?! Oh my god–!” Before she has a chance to answer or even catch her breath, he squeezes her tightly against his body and thrusts hard and fast, unable to hold back any longer. His ass lifts off the bed as he pistons in and out of her, desperate for release, and when she tightens around him again he comes with a roar—someone next door bangs on the wall—spurting hot inside her until his eyes roll back in his head and his vision goes red at the edges.

He comes down to find himself spooned against her, her ass cradled in the bowl of his hips as he softens inside her. They’ve made quite a mess, but his legs are burning like he’s been running for miles, and she’s gone completely limp against him; the last thing he can imagine is getting out of bed.

Still, he tries to be a gentleman.

“Want me to make some coffee? Then maybe a shower?”

She shakes her head against the pillow and pulls his arm tighter around her body. “I think I might be falling back asleep.”

He smiles into her hair. “Want me to wake you up a little later?”

“Absolutely.”

Hope you enjoyed! As always, comments will be printed and pasted into my little self-esteem scrapbook <3

[gortashs-skidmark]

Enver Gortash HEADCANONS

NSFW at the bottom, below the ()()()

+18 MDNI SEXUAL CONTENT

CONTENT WARNING: relationship headcanons, arranged marriage in some, manipulation, established relationship.

*Orange means that particular sentence/piece is CANON but the rest is a headcanon.

ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅

Gortash definitely doesn’t mind being a shit bag. But I think if he took a partner, he would just be manipulative emotionally but not physical. Like he chose a partnership and you just have to put up with some dumb fucking consequences of being in love, that's just how it is. I don’t think he’d shower you in gifts if he loved you but when he gave you something to cherish, it’d be personal, solemn, beautiful. Like him.

If it was arranged, he wouldn’t bat an eye, status is status. He’d only see you as an arm piece. He’d take you to dinner occasionally to check up on you. He would shower you in gifts at the wedding ceremony. For show of course, so your family, friends, patrons, and acquaintances knew you were in cushy hands.

I think Enver’s hands would always been warm. They’re calloused, warm, thicker, comforting when they held your face or braced your thighs. You would put lotion on his hands every night before bed because, you know, you care about him.

He is the man to take the same soap bar he uses on his body for his face, but this is medieval so him washing his face is high maintenance, comparatively. You only suggest he use rose water after he shaves as not to leave irritating skin patches. It makes him smell very sweet.

You are as soft as butter and he is a large man with a delicate hobby like baking, figuratively. His brutish in personality, is shrouded in fancy clothes and ugly ass shoes. But he can talk as calmly as a lake, and comfort you with honeyed words. You are capable of finding solace in him sometimes, if he lets you unburden yourself.

If it’s an arranged marriage, he will listen to your sorrows and complaints when he has time. Other times he’ll say “my dearest, I have not the time for your tears today.” Which breaks your heart. He's yours potentially forever, and he won't carry your burdens like you attempt to with his.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

NSFW HEADCANONS

He gives me very much the same energy as Raphael. Complete bottom. Probably not that good at fucking but he’s got some girth. Girth matters more than length, pls be honest with yourselves.

Not usually on top unless he’s teasing you a lot beforehand. He fucks loud too, verbally and from your bodies crashing over and over against each other.

Like Raphael has Harleep bc he’s a narcissist and they’re sent there by Mephestopheles to distract him. Gortash has you because you’re capable and seen as an equal. Whether you’re the nicest person on earth or the crudest bitch. If you can swindle like him, he sees something beautiful in that.

I think he’s loud and unapologetic during sex. He knows what he wants too and can voice is. He’s the “oh great heavens!” Type too.

Sometimes is a quickie-person, when he yearns for better company at night he removes himself from his workshop and walks to his room to have honey-sweet love, not fuck.

If you’re arranged marriage melds into more, I think he could be fixed. Very. Very. Slowly. You like to walk to the deep cragged shore of Wyrm’s Rock and watch the ocean and pet the moss. He doesn’t get it even if you have a reason to love being by yourself. You ponder harder about the timelessness of nature and the ebb and flow.

He fucks you soft and slow next time, taking the time like you do. He wants to know his partner, he really does. He uses it to stare into your eyes as they flutter from pleasure, he wants what you have. A soul so malleable yet it always know what it is deep down. It’s always whole.

ⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡⓣⓐⓢⓗⓖⓞⓡ

Thank you for reading!! I have more headcanons on my pinned masterlist <3

[ytsunodabrainrotbaybee]

World’s Worst Cooking Show

->Listen to the Wii Sports Theme

Y/N is a twitch micro-celebrity. With a variety of content on her channel, ranging from her newer trucking simulator games to war crimes in Minecraft, and comfy study and writing streams, her favorite and most popular series is her cooking show. Each guest invited has to have never heard of her, and the only information they are given is that she cooks food from her childhood.

Yuki Tsunoda x Twitch streamer reader.

yourinstagrambaybe

yourinstagrambaybe THIS WEEK ON EATS W YN: ALPHATAURIS YUKI TSUNODA. MY CAREER HAS LEAD UP TO THIS MOMENT.

Shout out to landonorris for introducing us!

ynbiggestfan Who knew Traffic Violations in F1 would bring us to this

Yukinoo She didn’t even tag him.

yourinstagrambaybe I have him blocked on all platforms.

pierregasly it’s going to be a nightmare. I can’t wait to watch

Yuki’s voice filtered through your phone’s speakers. You bounced on your heels as you waited, giving him directions to your small city apartment. Lando shouted over him, insisting that he knows where to go.

The minutes waiting and preparing screeched to a halt once Lando let the two of them in on his own.

You hopped to, greeting them at the door. “You made it,” you said, giving Lando a hug and greeting Yuki with a handshake.

“I’ve got everything set up, Lando you can watch the camera for me.”

The three of you moved to places for the stream, quickly getting everything started after a very brief and vague explanation for Yuki. Whose concern grew with every off brand and out of place ingredient he saw. Something about bargain brand Colby jack cheese say on top of flour tortillas filled him with something wary.

“Chat we have a guest,” You said, a sharp gesture towards Yuki and nothing more.

“Hello, I’m Yuki.”

Your streams would always start tame enough. In this case, a nice garlic butter spread making for the toastiest grilled cheese made Yuki nearly swoon. Comments flooded the chat the moment he took a bite and his eyes lit up. Not looking at the sandwich, however, but towards you.

Of course, the way to any real foodie’s heart is by food.

The adoration in his eyes would become one tested by things to come. As you announced that the grilled cheese, a recipe perfected by your sweet mother, was only the beginning.

More condiments and some lunch meat for good measure made it’s way to your cutting board. Yuki’s curiosity quickly turned sour as you explained.

“Imagine with me: you’re a college student,” you leaned against your counter, engaging fully with Yuki as he listened on. “You’re broke, but still, you need to eat. You take a look in your fridge for the third time and since nothing has materialized in your fridge yet, you go on and pick something.”

You picked up the honey ham lunch meat, 1.50 at a nearby dollar store and probably processed to high heavens, and a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise.

“Lunch on the most forgettable days, wether as a broke college student, or during summer break ad a small child,” you can’t help but watch that light drain from Yuki’s eyes as he realized. The dreaded struggle meal of lunch meat, mayo, and a single too small tortilla.

A man who has never had a struggle meal to this degree, a man who is slowly being beaten down.

“Is this why you blocked me?” He asked, voice low and filled with, something, “so I couldn’t find you and see this” he struggled to search for the words appropriate to describe your various crimes against food.

You set a bowl in front of him, the smack against the counter served to interrupt his monologue, cooking in the back of his mind with the rage of ten foodstagrammers.

The off brand Colby jack made itself useful, “the lunch meat tortilla wasn’t enough, honestly”

“Can we go back to the grilled cheese?” Yuki asked, those pleading brown eyes flooded with confusion and pain. He watched as you put a handful of the shredded cheese into the bowl.

“Be a doll and put this into the microwave for me”

You didn’t spare him a look as he nearly gagged at the moral implications. His opinions of you would go through so much, change after change, the moment of pure love and adoration from that first grilled cheese pulled through mud and sweat and microwaved cheese.

The stages of grief washed over him, from thinking he had found his soulmate to his worst enemy. To holding onto the hope that it really was an elaborate prank because if you could make the perfect grilled cheese, you have to be a good cook at the end of the day.

“What the fuck is this?” His voice was soft, pained almost before he dropped the bowl back into the counter. “What is wrong with you?”

The chat to your left, out of view from stream, flooded with comments fighting in Yuki’s defense. Only his first appearance and your entire following fell in love with him. Lando stood off to the side, watching, hoping to see a further breaking of his fellow driver. A hope that hung in vain.

Those big, pained, shining eyes bore into your mind, and your heart. A facade of defiance and chaos you had nursed for so long in front of your audience melted away under the passionate gaze of Yuki.

“Okay, why don’t we try something different?” You took the bowl from in front of Yuki, moved it out of frame and by the hand you led Yuki to your pantry.

There, it was stocked well. Organized to a tee, with some surprisingly high quality dry goods.

“What about pasta?” You grabbed a box of penne shells and handed them to him.

A wave of relief shadowed Yuki’s eyes, shoulders relaxed and a hesitant bit of that initial adoration crept back in. A promise of some actual good food peeked itself of the clouds of uncertainty and meat tortillas.

With that Lando excused himself, not fully enjoying the idea that he could bear witness to the worst cooking show he could have been subject to.

yourinstagrambaybe

yourinstagrambaybe I have learned a very important lesson today: yukitsunoda0511 is not the one. I would like to apologize for ever putting this angel through what I have.

landonorris I’m sorry I ever introduced the two of you.

yukitsunoda0511 I’m not. I’ve never had better food in my life.

formulawhat I never would have imagined Yuki being the one to break y/n like this.

yourinstagrambaybe It’s the eyes. They do things to you.

yourbiggestfan I could see the moment in stream when she fell in love.

ynlovely Been trying for two years, a man did it in a DAY

yukitsunoda0511

yukitsunoda0511 She actually can cook

formulawhat Is this dinner, and breakfast??

ynlovely This wasn’t on my bingo card for the year of our lord. But I’m not complaining.

yukinooo This is like some weird fanfiction trope

yourinstagrambaybe Not really.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Congratulations!

Can you do “Why do you need my approval?” W/Santiago Garcia?

Thanks!

100 Follower Celebration: Don’t Be Stupid

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F!Reader

Warnings: Aggressive and Possessive Santi, language, allusions to creepy older men, bad Spanish because I’m a no sabo

A/N: Hello angels!!! I know that this isn’t my typical bread and butter but… this is my guilty pleasure and I had soooooo much fun writing this. A couple of housekeeping measures… I am a no sabo kid. To my non Latinx friends that means that while I am Latinx, and did speak Spanish as a primary language for the first 5 years, I was moved to another part of the country and lost my ability to speak Spanish. So I’m trying to learn it again. It’s hard. For my Spanish speaking sisters and brothers, give me so grace, because I am trying. Secondly, I think I have two more 100 follower Drabbles, and then we can finish Interviews for New Beginnings and the other requests I got! Love you all so much my darlings!! Have a wonderful dayyyyy - Mo 💕

Summer nights in Florida were always far too hot. It was the price of living in paradise. The heat of the afternoon's sun baked into the pavement and stucco walls now radiated back onto your thinly covered body. The surrounding water made the air far too wet, and immediately upon going into the outside air did you feel the thin film of sweat and honeyed air cling to your face, arms and legs. Summer nights were brutal in heaven.

But you would never leave it. Not for a million dollars. And neither would your Delta Force boys.

It was on these brutal nights where you tried to beat the heat and the stickiness by going out to the dive bars in Ybor City, the smaller and rowdier younger sister of Tampa. The crowds were easy to get lost in, and the music was thumping no matter where you stood; which was just the medicine you and your friends needed on a night like this.

In the back corner of such a bar, you were squished between Frankie and Santi, trying to fit in the massive and unruly Ben and Will to this too small table. "Whats good boys!? And baby girl, looking beautiful as always." Ben laughed out with a toothy grin. He was always all too happy to be with you all. And if a night out also involved a couple drinks, he was more in paradise than usual.

You laughed mirthlessly at his flirtatious jokes. He always threw one your way whenever he got the chance. You only wished that Pope would do the same.

Though you met the rest of the boys when you joined the Delta Force, you had actually known Santi since middle school. Your mom moved you both to the apartment next to his back in the 6th grade. When the creepy older men were harassing you on the way down to the school bus, Santi stepped in. And from that day on you never walked to the bus, or rode the bus alone. He kept the creeps and bullies away. You helped him with his math homework. Perfect partners. Best friends. A perfect pair. And God how you were in love with him.

You both had had your flings and boyfriends and girlfriends. But they all came and went. You were there and he was there when it eventually went to out the window. Some times you wondered if maybe he felt the same ache in his chest as you. But you pushed it to the side. He never saw you that way. He never would. You were best friends. A sister to him. It would never be more. And it never bothered you until recently. Maybe it was because you were getting older. Maybe it was because your girlfriends were having babies and in serious and solid relationships. Yet you were still here. Drinking barely cool enough beer with the Delta Force ding bats. You loved them. You loved them more than life and would and have put your life on the line for them. But you were getting older. You wanted to be seen as a woman. Not just another teammate.

Santi smirked and ruffled your head like a child, messing up the hair you had corralled into a pony tail, "Chiqitita muñeca is pissy tonight. Heat is getting too much for her."

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. Frankie looked up from his ever present hat, "Pissed because she is stuck next to you and you won't let her up. Querida vamos. Let's get you another drink. This white boy at the bar has been giving you eyes all night and I wanna put him out of his misery."

Benny and Will whooped and laughed and your eyes widened, "Fish stop no he's not."

Frankie stood up, stretching out his long limbs and shaking his head, "He is. C'mon you haven't been putting yourself out there and it's dumb."

Frankie was right. You hadn't. In the past 3 years you hadn't even gone on a date because you were hoping, HOPING, that Santi would maybe make a move. That he would do something. But he hadn't. And you were tired of waiting. Frankie pulled you by the hand out of the booth and out of Santi's orbit. You smoothed out your cotton sundress, turning to the rest of the boys in the booth you hold yourself out to be appraised, "Yay or nay? Do I look gross?"

Will gave a thumbs up while Beni gave theatrical worshipping bows, "Hot sexy hot sexy hot sexy. Go get em tiger."

You noticed that Pope hadn't said anything, you turned to him waiting, "Pope??"

Eyes stern and cold he didn't even look up from his beer, "Why do you need my approval?"

You stomach dropped, and your face crumpled. Frankie rolled his eyes, "Coño la madre, don't listen to Pope you know how he gets when he's PMSing. You look nice. C'mon white boy is waiting. "

White boy was indeed waiting for you. His name was Connor. Clean cut. Not a Florida native which you clocked before you even made it up there. Worked in financing in downtown. Loved the Florida lifestyle but was still getting used to it. Super polite. Cute. And wanted to get to know you and buy you drinks and call you pretty. Soon any insecurity you had about Pope was miles away.

Frankie was pleased with himself, and brought back a round of beers to the table. Will and Benny were snickering in their seats, and Santi... well... Santi was fuming.

"What the fuck was that Fish?"

Smirking, he took a sip of his drink, "Que paso? No te queires chiqitita si?"

"Cabron, tu sabes quiero ella."

Benny cut in, "Hey hey hey. Don't let the gringos out man! Pope why are you getting pissed off? Nothing happened?"

Will spoke up, "He's pissed because Frankie basically delivered Chiqi to khakis boy over there."

Benny shrugged, "And??"

Will turned to him, looking as if Benny had grown another head, "And... Pope has been in love with Chiqi this entire time?? And Frankie knows that?? Benny did you get too many punches to the head or something?"

Benny’s eyes widen. The pieces fitting together. Will rolled his eyes, but Santi couldn’t care less. He was enraged with Fish. And Fish didn’t even care!! Fish knew that Santi had been in love with you for years. That he wanted you more than anything or anyone. That he had purposefully cut in on past relationships to keep you to himself. That he had building the courage to finally ask you to be his and only his. And yes here comes Fish. Delivering you to some… to some guy at a bar?

Frankie finished his beer and looked into his best friend’s eyes, “Hermano… I love you man. But you’re being a little bitch. No in fact you’ve been a bitch. Chiqi has been free and available for three years and you’ve done nothing about it. She’s clearly head over heels for you and you have been tiptoeing around it for no reason. You’re stupid. Chiqi deserves more. And if you’re angry about it you can go fix it.”

Frankie held his arm opened, lighting the way to you. He saw you laughing, your smile bright, things that he wanted to reserve for him and him alone. The things he had said were for him. The moment he saw Khaki’s hand brush up on your thigh, he saw red. He downed the rest of the beer that Frankie had gotten for him, and pushed his way out of the booth. The whoops and laughs from his brothers faded into the buzz behind him as he made his way to you.

“So… if it’s alright with you, I’d really like to take you out to dinner. Maybe next week?”

Connor was cute you thought. Not the same breathtaking handsomeness that Santi had, but Connor looked sweet. He looked honest. He would do for a boyfriend. You smiled, about to accept and give him your number, when Santi shoves himself in between you and Connor. “Oye Chiqi. Come dance.”

Connor gets up to look at you, “Hey man she’s with me relax.”

Santi turned around, “She’s not actually she came with me.”

You pushed Santi’a shoulder, “What the hell bro? Connor I’m sorry. This is Santi, we grew up together and he’s stupid protective and drunk. Santi can you please go back with Frankie I’m talking to someone.”

Without looking away from Connor Santi answers, “mm not drunk. I’m just making clear what’s mine.”

Connor looks at you and then Santi. Before he sheepishly smiles, “It was nice meeting you. I hope you guys figure things out.”

Connor walks away and you feel the rage building inside you, as Santi triumphantly turns back to you. You shove Santi’s shoulder, barely moving him, “You’re such a fucking asshole Pope. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Dance with me.”

“I’m not fucking dancing with you.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you to the dance floor despite your protests, your skin burning in shock and anger where his hand clutches your wrist. You make it to the center, him hungrily grasping at your waist. You’re pissed off but also so confused at this change in temperature. Santi won’t stop looking at you. Those dark lashes attempting to hypnotize you back into his orbit. He brings his mouth to your ear, “When’s the last time you danced with me Chiqi?”

You scoffed, but brought your arms to wrap around his neck as he tugged you closer, chest to chest, “Senior prom. After Michael Vazquez left me for Torrence Sheltzer. And I stepped on your toes all night.”

He laughed, “Michael was such an idiot.”

You stay like that. The bass coursing through your body, right in time with the pounding of your heart against Santi’s chest. He was always a good dancer. Too good of a dancer, it was almost obscene the way he had you moving against him. You don’t know how long you had been spinning, and you had to rest your head on his shoulder because of how light headed you became.

“You shouldn’t have done that Pope. He was nice.”

“He was a wimp. Wouldn’t be able to take care of you.”

“What you’re going to chase away any man who comes up to me? I’m tired of being alone.”

“You’re not alone. You have me.”

“You know what I mean.”

He pulled your face off his shoulder to make you look in his eyes, “I do know. And i know what I said. You have me. You’re mine. I’m yours.”

You feel tears in your eyes. Either from the smoke, the alcohol, or the embarrassment, “Santi stop being stupid. You’re being mean. You know I love you and you’re making fun of me.”

He presses his dry lips to the tear that escapes your eye, then puts his forehead to yours, “I’m not Chiqi. I’m not. Chiqi I’ve loved you since the 8th grade. I’ve hated every one of your little boyfriends and I’ve coveted you for years. I’m not joking.”

“Then why haven’t you said anything? Why didn’t you come get me when I was right here?”

The tears fall more now. And he keep kissing your cheeks to remove them, “Because I’m an asshole. I’m a fucking asshole who was too afraid of you saying no. Too afraid of when you left. I didn’t want to lose you. But I can’t take it anymore Chiqi. I can’t take another boyfriend. I’m selfish. I’m a selfish asshole. I want you for myself. I want you to yell at me and call me stupid as long as it means you never leave my place and you never leave my side. Cmon Chiqi…. Let me call you mine.”

You stared at him. He was telling the truth. He was being raw and real and you knew that this wasn’t some act. This was Santi in his rawest form. He wanted you. You brought your hand around to squeeze his cheeks together, “I want you to take me on a date. A real one. Not the bar or the bowling alley with the boys. I want dinner that you pay for. And flowers. And for you to wear a real shirt.”

He shakes your hand off and smiles, “Tomorrow night. I take you to The Colombia. I pick you up. With roses.”

“Do I get to order flan?”

He smiles even wider, “Only if you let me feed it to you like those stupid romance books you read.”

You shove him and he laughs and pulls you closer, “Kiss me and seal the deal Chiqitita. C’mon don’t be mad. Kiss me and tell me you’re mine.”

You couldn’t keep yourself from laughing, making him work for your kiss. You finally relent, pulling him in for the best kiss ever. The best kiss of your life. Until tomorrow’s

[theold-ultraviolence]

If this inspires you how about modern!aemond and his gf having like a spa/pamper night?

Omg, once again, thank you for your patience, this took me TOO long!! I couldn't figure out if I wanted to turn this into a fic or headcanons and literally had these thoughts turning over in my mind like rotisserie chicken. But ultimately my brain capacity has run out lol, so very detailed headcanons it is, hope that's okay!

Pamper Night (modern!Aemond hcs)

Ok ok ok first of all I couldn't figure out if I saw them having their pampering time at home, or at a very fancy spa or hotel. Aemond's got the money, so he'd definitely want to spoil his partner with that kind of stuff, lavish them with luxuries. But then again, I get the feeling that he'd feel kinda out of it - if he went to a spa and have strangers touching him and such. A night at the hotel though? definitely!

He's definitely one to make reservations at the very fancy hotel and just, spend a couple of nights there with you, away from the world.

Waking up late to have breakfast in bed, have lazy morning sex, and enjoy the facilities of the hotel like the pools, and at night, have the most fanciest of dinners.

But as much as he'd love that, if he's going for max comfort and pampering, I feel like he'd want it to be in a setting that's as intimate as possible.

Maybe he gets home friday night, absolutely destroyed after work.

He comes home and plops on the couch with a heavy sigh, next to you painting your nails.

He's immediately drawn to the focused look on your face - with your furrowed brow and tongue out as you try to keep your hand as still as possible for a flawless job.

He just smiles fondly to himself; he'd been ranting about work, and you listened to him atentively without separating your gaze from your nails, going, "uh-huh, honey", "did Aegon really say that to you? what a jerk!" while being very meticulous with the task at hand.

So he just smiles and softens up, offers to paint your nails for you.

It's grounding, as he takes your hand in his and finishes the job, taking extra care not to leave any paint on your cuticles and such.

With a deep breath, he softly murmurs, "now what's next on the agenda?"

"How do you feel about a facial mask?" you giggle at the mere thought, never having offered that before.

The thought of Aemond Targaryen, scary 6 foot man, with his fluffy bathrobe and a hairband while he has a facemask on is certainly a mental image that you'd love to witness.

He looks so reluctant, most likely fearing looking silly. So you butter him up by adding, "we can pop in a movie and make some popcorn while we wait for it to dry! your choice of movie, I won't complain. I know you've been meaning to re-watch Eyes of Laura Mars."

He never says no to a movie with you. So he nods and murmurs, "sounds heavenly."

You help him strip out of his work clothes, handing him his cozy grey adidas sweatpants, a t-shirt and his robe, before gathering up his hair and carefully wrapping a hairband around his head.

He sits by the bathroom counter as you carefully massage the gooey mask onto him, being mindful of stroking his face with soothing circles. Having him this close makes all the butterflies in your stomach go wild, for you're able to really see every tiny detail in Aemond's face. As we know, his bone structure is UNREAL, but also his skin is just so plump and soft, you don't know how he does it.

After the both of you got your beautyfication all set, as promised, he puts on a movie as you fix yourselves some popcorn.

To your delight, he doesn't go for one of his dense artsy films, but indulges you by putting on 10 Things I Hate About You.

And this is truly heaven, you think, as you're all nestled on the couch all cozy underneath a blanket while you wait until it's time to rinse your faces.

In between moments, you stare at Aemond and smile, noting how all tension seems to have lifted from his shoulders, leaving him all pliant and comfortable as you two bask in an indulgent, pampering night at home.

[hwaitham]

𝒜𝒦𝒜𝒟𝐸𝑀𝐼𝒴𝒜 𝒫𝒰𝐵𝐿𝐼𝒞 𝑀𝐸𝒮𝒮𝒜𝒢𝐸 𝐵𝒪𝒜𝑅𝒟

𝓂𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒: URGENT NOTICE! is there any way to contact the scribe outside of his office hours? these ordinances have been decreed for immediate legislation by the grand sage and they aren't going to write themselves! 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒: he’s rarely present even during the work day, and now you expect to reach him outside of it? good luck. 𝓪: i take it you haven’t seen the notice posted outside my office. from tomorrow onwards, i’ll be away on marriage leave for the next two weeks. please leave all relevant files with my secretary, and i’ll review them upon my return. 𝓂𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒: what?! marriage leave?! for you, of all people?? who in their right mind would… 𝓬: me!! i, in my right mind would... don’t be so rude!! >:(

this is what the world calls 𝓗𝓐𝓘𝓒𝓞 . . .

. . . the most sugar-hearted love to ever .ᐟ

𝜗𝜚 — he is her moonflower, her heaven on earth, her sweetest sound of reason && she is his bambi, his little angel, the sunspot in the corner of his mind. more often than not, it's verbalised as:

“ i missed you a whole bunch today, haithie. ” ﾉ “ yeah? you say that every day, sweetheart. ”

“baby, can you pretty please pass me a mug? ” ﾉ “ didn't i tell you to not call me that? don't forget that you're the one who's my baby. ”

𝜗𝜚 — the ingredients of their love concocted into a potion . . . chai and oud, white chocolate and cinnamon, kisses that melt like butter on bread, little love notes scribbled in the margins of his tomes, snoozing together under sun - warmed sheets, fairytales and innocent whimsies, tender caresses and longing glances that speak the sweetest of confessions in its silence, her attached to his hip like honey clinging to fingertips, a moth to a bedside lamp. the whirling ways of stars that pass in eyes, the most profound feeling of peace he's ever known in her smile.

for her . . . ◝♪ 𝓫𝓮𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓭 𓂃 ♬ laufey “ you're not even gone, i already miss you. what's going on? i've never been through this all-consuming, fire fuming, cursing at the moon and losing. ”

for him . . . ◝♪ 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𓂃 ♬ MINNIE “ don't pretend like you don't know, i know how you feel. don't pretend, you know it's love. you're so shy, you're too shy, let's not waste any more time. ”

for them . . . ◝♪ 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾 𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓼𝓾 𝓪𝓴𝓲 𝓯𝓾𝔂𝓾 𓂃 ♬ ichiko aoba “ all the days and months to come shall exist as offerings to you. ”

[landwriter]

Heya, I love your writing and taste in things.

I’ve finished (and loved) everything you’ve posted <3

Are there any sandman fics that have tickled your fancy lately?

Thank you so much!!! I sadly do not have time to read near as much Sandman fic as I'd like, but I have scoured both my memory and my bookmarks on AO3 (all twelve of them) and dug up some absolutely wonderful stories - hope at least one or two of these is new to you?!

I am probably a bit weird in this, but I don't bookmark fics I love (which is really nearly all I've read) insamuch as fics that have done something in particular that I think is so well-executed or clever or inspiring that I want to be able to study it like a creature in its own right. Usually these are stories that have the traits I admire most in fiction: economy of language, being very fucking funny, making me viscerally uncomfortable, or outright haunting me.

I loved reading all of them but your mileage may vary! Caveat lector like more than half of these are smut and/or violent so please check the tags against your own preferences. Several long-winded recs with excerpts and explanations under the cut:

---

The Birthday of the Beast | @slythernim | Dream/Hob | T | 3.3K

Father Almighty, though I have long not been your servant, I remain your unmanageable son. Here on Earth, closer to Hell than to Heaven, as I celebrate perhaps the least holy of holy days, I must imagine myself like unto Lucifer more than as Michael, that he and I might together make of the darkness a place for humanity to grow. He blows out the candles. 

Hob turns 666. Extremely fun fic by Nym that features incredible characterization within a very short space, Catholicism, Lucifer, and of course, gets a very special birthday gift. But you shall have to read the fic to see what it is. Read everything of Nym's, actually.

---

New Mistakes | Anonymous | Dream/Corinthian | M | 3.2K

Dream slid his thumb into the Corinthian’s mouth, the one he shared with most, the one with which he commonly spoke. “Well?” he asked. “Are you fed?” The voice that came from his left-eye mouth buzzed like locusts. My lord, we are. The voice that came from his right-eye mouth dripped like honey. My lord, we can always be fed more. Dream pulled back, looking at the Corinthian expectantly. The Corinthian swallowed, running his tongue along his teeth. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, and Dream was unaccountably flattered. “My lord,” he said. “I wish to be good.”

Have read almost no Corintheus but this fic hits on so much that I find distantly intriguing about the pairing. Perfect dialogue, gorgeous rhythm. Wonderfully visceral. Absolutely bonkers nuts for repetition in threes, as I'm sure you know, and I love how it was used here.

---

Lucy Locket | Anonymous | Dream/Hob and Dream/Hob/Corinthian | E | 17K

Five chapters (now with a new threesome added in late April, much to my delighted surprise!) of just fantastic roleplay smut that in-between all the sex is by turns incredibly funny and tender. Alternating Dream and Hob POV. As somebody for whom sexual roleplay has been my literal bread and butter on a professional basis, it shouldn't be surprising I am so fond of this fic - but it catches me out every time! Like a blow from behind, and I am winded. It is ridiculously hot and distressingly perfect all-through, and I would absolutely marry the author about it (sorry author if you're reading this). No excerpt because I cannot choose and will simply suggest that if you're up for kink that you go read it all at once.

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Public | @softest-punk | Dream/Hob | E | 1.1K

"Oh, darling," Hob murmurs, fingering the edge of Dream's delicate lace knickers. Dream feels his smirk against his jaw, bites his lip at the brush of a kiss under his ear. "You forget how old I am. I learned to fuck with an audience."

Every day I get closer and closer to needing to write Dream and/or Hob with vulvas; this may have been the fic that sealed the deal for me, I think. Ridiculously hot, and enshrined in my head forever for the line above. I learned to fuck with an audience. God! How good. A masterclass in the slutty drabble that nevertheless retains peak Dream/Hob characterization (I would argue that sex is in fact one of the best narrative vehicles for characterization and exploration of interpersonal dynamics...this bias is probably why nearly all these recs are so horny.) One day I will learn how to write proper smut in media res like this and not preface it with gratuitous plot.

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worship like a dog | @thewalrus-said | Dream/Hob | E | 2.5K

“Is it so inconceivable that I might love you?” Dream murmured, running his manicured nail down Hob’s cheek. Hob tried to speak, swallowed, and tried again. “No one ever has before,” he said. “No one but God.”

Hob is a priest. Dream is a demon, except he's not. Dizzyingly hot for so many reasons, with a delightful canon dialogue echo. And again, must stress this: Hob is a priest. Hob is a priest. Hob is a priest, go read it.

---

Safehouse | Anonymous | Hob/Corinthian | E | 5K

“I need a room. One without a door.”

The best execution of the sex pollen trope I've ever seen, with the worst men. Very, very good fic with a brilliant premise and unerring execution. World-building is done in such brief but vivid strokes - it feels like a 50K fic whenever I remember it, and I'm always surprised how short it actually is. Haunts me in the best of ways.

---

As well - these fics are well-known and well-loved - but some stories that are utterly wonderful and contain lines that haunt me weeks, sometimes months later - stories that rearranged my soul, lurched me closer towards writing for Sandman, and warrant mention even though I am SURE you have read them, include:

@moorishflower's iconic and beautiful Odyssey fic, maybe sprout wings was the first fic I commented on with my AO3 account, and among the best fics I've ever read in any fandom; slightly deeper cuts from Heather's oeuvre (if, for some reason you are not reading everything already) that I am obsessed with and have reread multiple times: vowel shift, most vain devices, an act of faith. Genius stuff and unbelievably gorgeous language. Just go read it all, honestly

@softest-punk's Shelter is one of the first Sandman fics I ever read, and is beyond lovely; if you have not read their entire deep and profoundly lovely back catalogue, I recommend Catching Up (quintessential Cecil deep tissue emotional massage), Delayed (or: my favourite kink and favourite Endless); Ferrous (vampires! bad men! ahh! ooh!); and I would of course be remiss and ungrateful to not mention self-abandon, and the confounding effects thereof, a 10K fic that perfectly answered my general question of how the three lads would actually get together once the Corinthian and Hob had started fucking (as narrative foils that deserve such treats)

@xx-vergil-xx's Hounds is an ongoing epic that has singlehandedly caused me more emotions than humanity has language for; it is ambitious in scope and sticks every landing. The world is alive and lovingly-detailed. The language is a poem. It is so smart, so beautiful, and so well-researched and built. It is a TEMPLE unto itself, and appropriately worthy of worship

I will also suggest you read absolutely everything by @that-banhus because she literally cannot miss and writes the loveliest, cleverest worlds. All of it.

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

-

Here's the 3rd part. Hoping to also get this one up quick. This story is really coming together in my head. Also, I know I promised smut, and so far have not delivered. That is coming, pinkly promise. We've got to get the foundation man!

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 3 - The Grey

Sleep was a wild idea, given everything I had learned last night. I couldn't seem to quit scrolling through Google, YouTube, listening. I felt as though I was educating myself. Learning, in some way, what I was getting into. I wanted to see what I could learn about him, but he was an overall private human, even for a musician.

I did learn he is a Scorpio, born on Halloween. Originally from Virginia. The names of his bandmates. He had quite a few wonderful songs that I had added to my iTunes quickly after hearing them. So far, my favorite was Limits, which was saying a lot, given Just Pretend was still so incredible.

Throughout all of my 'research', the most important fact I learned was that Noah was very good at hiding his alcoholism. I expected to see articles, tweets, or even a TikTok about some scandal. An arrest? A fight? A drunken performance? I found nothing.

I suspect Noah is what I consider a silent drunk. Someone who doesn't drink for fun, but for release. For something to escape to. This had to be true, because I found zero evidence of his addiction on social media or in the depths of Google. I even shamelessly searched 'Noah Sebastian alcoholic' and came up with some very strange fanfiction. Interesting thought...

This almost worried me more. This meant I was going into this blind. The rockstar lifestyle was something not only musicians lived. So how did he manage to do it so quietly? Was his publicist just that good? Did he even have one?

Despite my determination, sleep finally took hold about 4AM, me waking up at noon with the videos of their music still playing on YouTube. I slammed my laptop closed and wiped the drool from my lips.

I needed caffeine.

I slipped into my house slippers, and sauntered to the kitchen, Angel following behind. I heard his quiet whine, and quickly paced to the back door to let him out before he had an accident.

Once I had slurped down half of my energy drink and let Angel back in, I snatched my phone from my bedside table. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I checked through my notifications.

Given it was my day off, I wasn't surprised to see a text from Sam asking if I wanted to come in and help him with his case files. I didn't even open it. That should answer that question.

I opened my messages to reach out to Laura. Her and I needed to speak immediately.

Before I could open her thread, I noticed a message from Noah, which made my throat dry.

Noah: Hollywood Palladium. Doors open at 6PM, but you should get there about 5 to get into your suite. I'll text you once I get offstage and we can figure out how you'll smuggle me out. We go on before Motionless in White.

Noah: Thank you again, Leena. I know this is a pain for you.

This guy isn't actually real. He is sweet as honey. Smooth as butter. And wakes up at 6:30AM, apparently? Who the fuck is this guy?

Me: I'll be there. I haven't told Laura yet. Pray for me.

His response came quickly.

Noah: Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name...

I only responded with laughing emojis and flipped to Laura's thread.

Me: Can you talk?

This was our code. She was working and if she was busy, she would respond. If she wasn't, she'd call.

My phone vibrated in my hand immediately.

"Hey." My voice was a fucking mess. I realized I hadn't used it at all yet.

"What the fuck is up, Kyle? You getting sick?" I cleared my throat and sighed.

"No. Just woke up."

"Late night? You doing okay?" I could hear the concern. 3 years sober, didn't mean it wasn't still something to keep an eye on.

"Yeah babe, I'm good. I need to fucking talk to you, though."

"Sure, what's going on?"

I sighed, not even knowing how to begin. I couldn't exactly tell her the lead singer of one of her favorite bands was a newly recovering alcoholic. Not without permission.

"I uh..." My brain drew a blank. "have not thought this through."

The other end was silent.

"You sure you're okay?"

I sighed hard. "I met Noah Sebastian."

Now there was dead silence on the phone.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I've lost my mind. Can you repeat that?" Her voice was deadly.

"You heard me."

"Noah Sebastian? From Bad Omens?!" I could hear her voice raising some octaves.

"Yeah a few days ago."

"Fucking where?!" I had to hold the phone at a distance from my ear.

"At...my work." My brain worked overtime to work out this lie.

"I call bullshit." She is too good at seeing through me.

"Laura, would you fucking listen?"

"Noah Sebastian did not walk into a fucking mortgage office and just happen to meet my best friend, the loan officer. Bullshit."

"Laura, listen!"

"Fuck! Fine! What?!" I could feel her irritation.

"I have tickets to their show tonight. In their VIP booth."

"Did you help him buy a house or some shit?!" That actually wasn't bad.

"Possibly. Still up in the air."

"You're such a fucking liar."

"Do you want to go or not? We'll be seeing him after."

I could feel her jaw drop to the floor. "We're going to meet the band?"

"No, not the band. I don't think. Just Noah."

"Just Noah? Christ Mileena, did you fuck him or something?!"

"Absolutely not! Laura what the hell?!"

"What?? You don't even listen to Bad Omens." I scoffed at that.

"I fucking do now."

-

After a solid hour of interrogatories from Laura, planning on getting to the event (I would drive, obviously) and what we would wear, we finally hung up.

I had about three and a half hours before I had to leave to pick her up. I had enough time for a walk with Angel, lunch, and to get ready.

When Angel and I set out on the sidewalk, and I had set up my AirPods (3 guesses who I was listening to), my phone chimed with a text. I groaned. Didn't we get through enough details?

When I saw the text though, I was surprised to see Noah's name.

Noah: Hey, weird request, but could I call you for like ten minutes?

I was puzzled, but typed a quick affirmative response.

My phone rang a few moments later.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm sorry." His immediate apology confused me.

"Sorry for what?" I could hear him chuckle, his voice slightly hushed.

"Calling. I know it's weird." I half-smiled. There was a level of innocence to Noah that made me feel better about this entire situation.

"Noah, I'm your sponsor. You're allowed to call me any time, day or night."

"But what if I call you at 3AM cause I'm craving sugar?"

I shook my head, weaving down the sidewalk with Angel heeling nicely at my left.

"Then we go get ice cream?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "No way. You don't mean that."

I proudly responded. "Wouldn't be the first time."

He only snorted in response. I did wonder why he needed to call.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm, yeah. We're at the venue. Did sound check a while ago. The guys cracked open some beers. I told them I was going to take a quick walk to get some air. I feel like they might know something." His concern was thick in his words.

"Ah, okay. Well, super proud of you for walking away. That's amazing on it's own."

"Yeah?" He sounded unsure.

"Oh, one hundred percent."

"Thanks Leena." He sighed. His voice then came out a little smoother. "Did you talk to Laura?"

"I did."

"And how did that go?"

I smirked. "Well, she doesn't believe that I met you at work, so now she's got horrific ideas of how I met you, but she's in."

This made him laugh. "Horrific like how?!"

"I won't repeat it. But either way, she doesn't know how we actually know each other. I'm struggling to figure out how I'm going to explain us giving you a ride home?"

He was quiet, my guess was thinking. "How well do you know her?"

"Better than anyone, why?"

"You trust her?"

"With my life."

"Tell her. It's easier that way. Just maybe ask we don't all chat about it?" This took me back. As private as he is, and he doesn't even know me that well? Why trust me, or someone I trust, with this secret? His reputation is somewhat on the line.

"You sure?"

"Should I not be?"

I sighed. "I wouldn't risk your good name Noah. I promise."

"Thanks Leena." I heard muffled voices in the background. "Hey, I've got to go. See you later?"

I agreed, and we disconnected the call.

-

The ride to the venue was mostly quiet, aside from the soft music on the radio playing.

"So...anything else I should know before we walk in there? Ronnie Radke isn't going to be hanging with us too, is he?"

I chuckled at this.

"Listen babe, I've got to tell you something."

She lifted her eyebrow in a knowing look. "Knew you were lying."

I shrugged. "Look, I'm going to tell you this, but this is covert level secrecy. No one can know. Or Noah is fucked. So promise me? Not even your husband gets to know?"

Her look turned more serious.

"Of course babe. Anything."

"I'm Noah's sponsor." Her jaw dropped open, almost unnaturally so.

"He's in AA too?" I nodded.

"He just started. And he needed a sponsor. I offered. He needed help getting through this show and the after party. So he's going to pretend to be sick after, meet us backstage, and we're going to smuggle him out and drive him home."

I could see the wheels in her head turning. She believed me now. She knew I never lied about AA.

"Oh my God, babe." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I pried too hard. Jesus, I feel like an asshole."

I waved her off. "Don't, my love. He gave me permission to tell you." She nodded at that, sitting back in her seat.

After a beat, she giggled to herself. "You sure are the luckiest sponsor ever." That made me laugh. I wasn't so sure yet.

-

The show was electric. The man on stage, singing, was a different person entirely. If it weren't for the fact that he made direct eye contact with me several times throughout the night, I would've never believed him to be the same shy, unsure, uncomfortable man he was in group. On stage, he was confident, he was in control, he was the leader, and the crowd, his flock. It was insane to watch, and I would be lying if I hadn't said I felt absolutely mystified at points. I teared up when they played Just Pretend, vehemently singing along. This was not lost on him, and I caught the smirk he got when he saw my glassy-eyed singing. No different than any other fan. That's okay, that's who I was for now.

We were to not be seen or noticed. We were shadows waiting to seamlessly remove him.

Once the set ended, and everyone waited for Motionless in White to come out, moving in and out of their seats toward the bars and bathrooms, Laura and I followed the security guard who had been told to allow us backstage.

I checked my phone a few times, but still had not heard from him. As we made our way to the meet and greet area, we saw the giant line of fans waiting for their band to show up. We slyly waited against a wall behind the line. We blended in.

"Have you heard from him?" I checked my phone again with no results.

"No, but I would bet he has to do meet and greet first. I don't strike him as the type to disappoint fans."

She nodded in agreement, so we waited.

After about twenty minutes, we heard screaming, and looked over to see them come out, waving at everyone waiting in line. I saw his eyes searching. Was he looking for us?

Pulling out my phone, I shot a quick message.

Me: By the trash cans.

He was talking to a girl with his face on her shirt when he slipped his phone from his pocket and his eyes immediately scanned and found mine. The smallest hint of a smile lifted his lips. I saw him turn his back for a moment, and turning back to sign autographs

Noah: Thought I lost you. M&G will be over in 45min. Meet me in the parking lot?

I sent a thumbs up, instructed Laura of our plans, and we began our trek to the car. Once in the car, I sent a quick location pin to him so he could find us. I got a response a few minutes later.

Noah: Just look for the ancient Tahoe. Roger that.

I rolled my eyes, and despite Laura watching her concert videos, she noticed.

"What?" I showed her my phone, and she smiled.

"Well, he's funny, huh?" I nodded.

"An absolute dork." She bit her lip, turning in my seat.

"Leena?" I looked up at her from my phone screen, looking at my own videos.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like him?" I paid little attention to the question.

"Oh sure, he's a nice guy." She put her hand on my shoulder, making me give her my full attention.

"No, Mileena," she pushed my phone down. "do you like him?"

This made me scoff. "Laura, I barely know him!"

"What's to know? He's a singer in a near famous band. He's got the voice of an angel. He's adorable." This made me roll my eyes again.

"I'm his sponsor." She threw her hands up.

"Is it illegal?" I shook my head.

"No, but it's awful and would make me a terrible human. And I work very hard to be a good human."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't believe that, but okay. I respect it." I smiled at her.

"Thank you Laura."

"But I still think you like him."

I was silent in response, not amused by her pushing.

“He has a girlfriend anyway, Laura.”

I watched her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “He does?!”

“Yeah, he told me yesterday.” I could see the disbelief on her face.

“I’ve never heard that. What’s her name?” I sighed, thinking back to our conversation the day before.

“He…didn’t say? Just mentioned he had one, and she didn’t know about AA yet.”

Her lips pursed. “Not buying it.”

This made my eyes widen.

“What?”

“He has a girlfriend but doesn’t even tell you her name? And doesn’t tell her he’s made a life changing decision to get well? I’m not buying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Christ, Laura, you’ve got trust issues.”

She pointed at me. “Facts. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t believe it.” She sat back in her seat.

“I’ll just ask him when he gets here, no worries.”

This caused a flood of panic through me. “Please don’t! He’s not the type to talk about personal stuff. He’s actually pretty withdrawn.”

Her blank expression was telling. “Noah? Noah Sebastian? The guy who just went absolutely insane on that stage? Is withdrawn? Mhm, sure.”

I sat back in my chair and groaned.

“Please? That’s his personal business.”

She nodded. “Fine, but you should ask him.”

I didn’t respond, attention now on the text I had from him saying he was headed our way. I started the car, ready for a quick getaway.

After about ten minutes, I saw his tall frame in the doorway of the elevator, jogging over to the car. I snuck a glance at Laura, who looked as though she may absolutely burst.

“Here comes the rockstar.” She let out in a sing-song voice.

The back left door opened, and he slid inside the seat quickly, buckling his seatbelt and running his fingers through his long, and now greasy, hair.

“Hey!” My voice was about three pitches higher for truly no reason at all. This was not lost on my best friend, whose eyes I saw flash over to be before turning around and looking at Noah, eyes absolutely bulging.

“Jesus, it’s like trying to escape a wild pack of hyenas!” He sat back and sighed heavily as my truck backed out of the space and began moving down the aisle. “I mean the guys, not the fans.”

I looked up in my rearview. “Did you do like we talked about?”

“Yes. Made sure to gag as loudly as possible and everything.” I could see the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He turned his attention to Laura, holding out his hand. “I’m so rude, I’m sorry.” She took his hand, looking absolutely stunned. “I’m Noah.”

All I heard from her was a weak ‘Laura’ in response.

Once we hit the darkened streets, putting the venue behind us, the tension in the truck relaxed.

I looked up in my mirror again, catching Noah’s attention.

“Do you mind if I drop Laura home first? She’s got to get up early for work tomorrow and her house isn’t very far.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’m all the way in Calabasas, so no worries at all.”

I just nodded. The ride was smooth for a moment, until I heard the familiar ring of an iPhone. It was Noah’s.

“Hello?” I couldn’t hear the voice from the other end. “Hey babe.”

Laura’s face whipped over to me, I’m sure seeing my expression darken ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m not sure what happened, but I started feeling off before the set and by the end, I was throwing up.” He waited for the response. “No, uh…” he hesitated. “I actually haven’t drank at all today.”

Something in my chest swelled. I was such a proud sponsor. He was making an effort, and all I could do was appreciate it.

He nervously laughed. “Yeah, right? Shocking, I know.”

I could hear his tone. It broke my heart for him. I knew that conversation, I had many myself. When people don’t believe you haven’t been drinking, or are shocked to hear it. They’ll even go so far as to get angry at you for quitting. It’s a long, torturous road he’s set down, but hopefully with the right support, he will stay on track.

“Well I just caught an Uber, and I’m going to go home and pass out. Try to get over it.”

I made a conscious effort not to look at him, doing my best to respect his privacy. I could see Laura doing the same, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we should wait until Monday? Make sure I’m not contagious, and all that?” His voice almost sounded brightened, but I was likely imagining things.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But do you want to catch this crap?” He made a sound of approval. “Thought so. I’m almost home so I’ll talk to you later babe.” He wasn’t, but okay. “Mhm, I love you too.” Slight poke to the abdomen. Nothing to worry about. “Bye.”

My hands relaxed slightly on the wheel. No one spoke for a little while. I could see his eyes just watching the streetlights fly past the window. He almost looked sad, but I couldn’t piece together why exactly. I could guess, however, that this is harder than he initially anticipated. It always is.

Laura shared my concern, so she spoke up.

“The show tonight was awesome, Noah! Better than the one back in November!”

This sure perked him, making him sit up in his seat. “Yeah? Thank you for saying that.”

“Oh fuck yeah, dude! Watching you guys play is spiritual, honestly.” This made him crack a wide grin.

I felt a poke on my shoulder, causing me to look up.

“What’d you think Leena? How was your first Bad Omens show?” I could see him searching for my answer, but he’s not the only one who could be a smartass.

I waved my hand in a topsy-turvy fashion. “It was alright.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, you cried during Just Pretend.” Laura was triumphantly smiling.

She’s so dead.

My cheeks were getting warmer, and I instinctively cracked my window. When did it get so hot in here?

Noah let out a giggle, an actual fucking giggle. “I thought I saw that.”

“Dude, how can you see anything up there? Fire? Smoke? Lights?”

He shook his head dismissively and flopped back in his seat. “Please. I can see anything if I’m looking for it.”

His words rang out followed by silence. Laura’s face was deadpanned.

What the fuck does that mean? In a literal sense, I get what he meant but wow, what an innuendo to make. Unintentionally, I’m sure.

The context wasn’t lost on Noah, who only cleared his throat, not speaking another word.

Luckily, we were already cruising down Laura’s street, stopping in front of her driveway.

“Welp, this is my stop.” She turned to look in the backseat. “Thank you so much for the concert. It really was awesome.”

This earned her a grateful head nod from him. “Anytime.”

She wouldn’t be forgetting that.

“I love you babes, call me tomorrow?” She wrapped an arm around me while I agreed to her request. She hopped out of the car and within seconds, she was gone.

“You want to stay back there, or hop up front?”

Without answering, a long leg reached over my console, plopping Noah in the passenger’s seat. I stared at him incredulously while he beamed at me.

I shook my head and put the truck back in drive, waiting for him to direct me to his house.

[jobesbabe]

Summer Baby/ Dominik Szoboszlai Part 2

It’s July, 2024. A few of the Liverpool boys are looking for a getaway before and between the summer series and stumble upon your mom’s vacation home in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. There, they spend their time enjoying the sun and one in particular, enjoying the company. You find yourself falling for a charming Hungarian- Domi.

a/n- Heyy, if you haven’t read part 1, go do that now, but if you’re returning to read, THANK U SM!! pls reblog and comment to lmk u want more! ty!

PART 2

warnings- Fluff for this part, maybe more to come in the next 😉

“Liverpool fc?” Your mom asked from the other side of her door. “The red ones with the bird as the logo? They're the boys who are staying here?

You nodded your head. “They're awfully nice too. Super polite, all of them. Even Harvey and Curtis!” You told her.

Though you two lived at your vacation home, it was separated from where the boys themselves stayed. The house from the outside was one massive house, but on the inside it was basically half of a house, sharing the back porch and entrance to the beach.

Your mom was getting ready to spend some time at her boyfriend’s place further north at the beach and she decided it was best for you to stay here with the crew of them. Curtis, Harvey, Caoimhin, Dominik, Conor and Bobby.

You didn’t mind, you liked the bunch of them, especially Dominik. He was so effortless in everything he did and still made it look sexy.

After your walk the night prior, he had given you his personal number.

“So the two of us can know each other better,” he had said, causing you to smile like a little kid, and you knew it.

Now, you were snapped out of your thoughts by your mother.

“Y/n, honey, don’t you think you should check if the guests want breakfast?” She asked in a rhetorical way, telling you to get your butt moving for the boys on the other side of the door.

Opening it, you slinked into a calm and peaceful time you knew was only because the boys were all sleeping. It was 9 am and you expected at least one person to be awake and getting ready for the day.

Going into the kitchen, you reached for the stocked fridge’s handle and took out eggs, bacon, cheddar cheese, rye bread and butter.

You got out a bowl and started scrambling some eggs when you felt a tap on your right shoulder.

You turned to be met by Dominik, with fluffy messed up morning hair and no shirt in sight. Eyes lingering on his pecs for a moment too long you look up.

He’s smirking, clearly seeing the effect he has over you and using it to his advantage.

“Good morning, Domi,” You said to him emphasizing the nickname he had encouraged you to call him.

“morning y/n,” His accent a bit thicker because of the morning grogginess in his voice. He rubbed his eyes. “So, what- what’re you making?” Dominik asked.

“A proper American breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon,” You told him.

“mmm,” He said, getting closer to look over you and grabbing your waist with one hand in the process. You gasp a bit before smiling again and hoping he doesn’t notice.

You turn your head to the man towering over you, breathing in his natural scent for a moment before returning your attention to the eggs. He chuckles under his breath and you can feel his chest vibrating for a second. He was well aware of the effect he had on you.

“How do you like your eggs?” You ask Domi.

“hm, I love a good scrambled egg,” He says to you in his accent and then he gets even closer than he is already to whisper in your ear, “but a fried egg sounds like heaven.”

You close your eyes in the moment, nodding for a moment before your alone time is interrupted.

“S’up guys,” Harvey says in his loud voice, followed by Bobby and Conor. You expect Caoimhin & Curtis to be close behind.

Dominik takes a few steps back from your body and removes his hand from your waist.

You turn to the three newly awaken boys, “Breakfast, How’d you like your eggs?”

“I suppose scrambled is fine for me,” Bobby starts.

“I second that,” Harvey says.

“Me too,” Conor says.

Walking in, Curtis groans out, “whatever it is I agree,”

With that, you pour the lot of them coffee, with the exceptions being Curtis and Dominik who requested espresso shots. You began brewing them from your espresso machine and placing them in small cups in front of the two men, who downed them like water.

Preparing the plates, you put toast and bacon on all the settings, but scrambled on the four that agreed to it and sunny side up on Caoimhin’s since thats what he requested fresh out of bed. Lastly, you placed Domi’s fried egg on the plate and began bringing them out.

“Scrambled for these guys, Sunny side up for Caoimh, and a fried egg for Domi,” You said, slightly proud of yourself.

The round table had an extra setting you hadn’t remembered putting out, complete with a plate and silverware.

Domi grabbed your hand before you could slink back to the kitchen.

“Thank you y/n, but we were thinking you’d join us for breakfast.” He told you.

You nodded, aware of the side eye you were receiving from Curtis, who definitely was not a morning person.

“I’d like that,” You said.

An hour later, you were all still at that table laughing your heads off as Curtis told you a story of Harvey back when he was fresh out of Fullham’s academy and had made a terrible hair choice.

“Man, that’s gotta be like in photos somewhere, right?” You asked between chuckles.

“No! no, no, no, no, there’s definitely no photos of me from then,” Harvey exclaimed, even though there were probably hundreds, on Curtis’ phone alone.

You all laughed again.

“Well, it’s nearly 10:45, I should get to cleaning this up,” You told the boys, pushing out your chair and getting up.

“I can help you, if you’d like,” Domi offered as you shook your head no.

“no, please that’s not necessary,” You said grabbing four plates, and despite your efforts, Domi followed you with the other three.

The rest of the players rolled their eyes at the obviously infatuated Hungarian man who was acting like a lovestruck boy or a lost little puppy.

You had to admit, that he was cute. Cuter than any guy who had ever laid his eyes on you. You smiled as he pushed you out of the way to get to the sink, grabbing the sponge and the soap.

“Domi, please let me do it,” You told him.

“No édesem, we can do it together,” He told you.

Your heart fluttered and he stepped out of the way for a moment before both of his tattooed arms surrounded you and took control of the dish washing.

You giggled as he splashed water at your face and you did it back to him.

“édesem, what does that mean?” you asked Dominik in a flirty tone, already knowing the answer.

“It means honey, like how people would say darling in english,” he nods to prove his point.

“I like it,” You say smiling.

As you finish the dishes, he hugs you from the back.

“Beach walk later?” he asks you like its already your routine.

“deal,” you tell him.

He smirks.

——————————

a/n - Ahh, thats it for now, lmk if you like it!!

[shieldofiron]

WHINY BOTTOM BILLY GETTING FUCKED BY STEVE WHILE JONATHAN IS IN THE NEXT ROOOOOOOM!!!!!

"Shhh honey," A drop of sweat from Steve's hair dripped down on the back of Billy's neck and he swore he could hear it sizzle.

It wasn't that Billy meant to make any noise. It was just that quickies always made him hot. He gripped the edge of the dryer and tried to bite his lip.

Steve's hands gripped him tightly, "Wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you? He would be so shocked to see you like this... pants around your ankles... and that ass..."

Billy made a desperate whimper, arching into Steve's hands.

"Do you think he'd take a picture? It might last longer."

Billy's orgasm swirled over him like a hurricane, catching him for one desperate moment in a half scream, that Steve swiftly muffled, stuffing his own underwear in Billy's mouth. Billy's eyes rolled back and his toes clenched up in his boots and he wailed brokenly as he felt Steve cum deeply, his movements getting choppy and rough.

Billy's knees still felt weak when he stumbled out into the living room.

"Hey guys," Jonathan smiled, pressing play on the vcr to start the opening credits, "I put a little extra butter on the popcorn."

"Yum," Billy said softly, setting next to him on the couch.

"Did he go a good job?" Jonathan's smile was knowing, but still somehow shy.

"Yeah," Billy kicked a boot up, settling into Jonathan's side and taking his hand, "Came so hard, I saw heaven."

Jonathan threw an arm around his other boyfriend, kissing him on the temple, "That's my good boy."

Steve blushed softly, and squirmed against Jonathan's chest, relaxing when the opening credits played, and wriggled his hands around Billy's.

[lemon-bat]

EVERY RAYMAN X READER QUOTES

Rayman (Game) and Rayman (CL) made nicknames for eachother.

(Game) Flicks (CL) Ray

Rayman (Game)

"Raymesis! You're hurting them!"

"Oh sweetie, I'm sure he'll come around...not"

"Hey Ramon! Could you please keep an eye on Y/N?"

"Hello, Fakeman. How's life being a horrible person?"

"Ray knows best Y/N, you should be asleep."

Raymesis

"Flicks, quit being so paranoid! They're fine."

"Hey, look. You don't need anybody else. We're here for you."

"Hey, Ramon heh. I'm just grabbing Y/N for lunch."

"Hey, Fakeboy. Is it fun being a walmart do-gooder?"

"Oh, great...now we have TWO annoying do-gooders taking all of Y/N's time!"

Rayman (CL)

"Oh Flicks! Could you go get Y/N for me? I'm making some spaghetti and I want them to try it."

"Oh dearest, your friend will talk to you again, im sure."

"Hello, you clone."

"Ramon, is our dear Y/N asleep yet? They've been getting terrible nightmares and I'm worried."

Fakeman

"Flicks, you realize that I'm their favorite, right?"

"Hey Raymesis wanna bake with me? I'm baking cupcakes for Y/N and I want them to be perfect!"

"Sweetie, your friend is taken care of. Your ours Y/N, and your friend was in the way."

"Hello, do-gooder me. How's being a failure?"

"Ramon...could you lay off Y/N for ONCE. The rest of us want attention too!"

Ramon

"Flicks, do you know where Y/N is? I need them!"

"Hmm, I don't trust Raymesis. Even less his cooking, here sweetie, I'll take the first bite. Just to make sure that emo prick didn't put anything in it."

"Shhh shh, your friend is in a better place now."

"Listen here, you spoiled bitch boy. If you hurt Y/N in any way you're dead. GOT IT?"

"Hello...Ray..welp I gotta go-"

All of them in a cuddle pile with you

Flicks

"It's nice to be able to cuddle you, you're so soft!"

Raymesis

"Don't listen to him, muffin. He's trying to butter you up. You are soft though."

Ray

"Is this heaven? I love you so much, Y/N."

Fakeman

"This is a luxury no money can buy, I love you Y/N."

Ramon

"This is the most comfortable rest I've ever gotten, thank you honey."