#i love the visible brush strokes in everything

[aliteralsemicolon]

Technically, I didn't stay up.

Just you and Spencer being fluffy when he comes home from work and falling asleep in each other's arms.

Spencer Reid X GN! Reader. 

DISCLAIMER This story is completely SFW, minors do not interact regardless!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

Word count: 1K See notes at end for authors note, any spoilers & update schedules.

I was listening to Margaret when I initially started writing this:

Spencer’s abnormal work hours were something you were entirely used to. You never knew when he was going to be called away and although he would text you when a case wrapped up, it was never a guarantee that he was going to make it home. Actually more often than not, he was usually hauled right back in for another case. What could you do? Serial killers didn’t really care about his convenience. Regardless, you always insisted on being present to greet him at the door, even if it meant testing your sleep schedule.

from: Spence ❤️

20:42 | The jet took off not too long ago. We should land in roughly five hours. Please don’t force yourself to wait up.

20:42 | I love you!

You were quick to respond to everything except the not waiting up part. Your plan hadn’t actually gone that smoothly, you’d fallen asleep on the couch not long after making yourself comfortable there. You didn’t hear him unlock the door. He took extra care to be as quiet as possible when abandoning his shoes and satchel at the entrance. He even put a lot of thought into making his steps as light as possible when he began to make his way to the bedroom, only to spot you curled up on the couch. 

He smiled to himself at the sight in front of him. The only lighting was a small lamp in the corner of the room, but to him, you were the brightest presence in the room. Your expression was neutral and your breaths shallow as you lay dead to the world. You looked so peaceful, he considered it to be almost criminal if he were to disturb you. He couldn’t just leave you there though. It wasn’t good for your body to be curled into a cramped position. 

Spencer made his way over to you, crouching down next to your face. He couldn’t help but admire whatever features were visible. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Honey?” he whispered when he pulled away. His voice was so soft. He didn’t want to disturb you, but he wanted you to be comfortable in your own bed. “Hmm?” Your brain registered his voice, but it took your body a second to register his presence.

Spencer still had a hand in your hair, lightly stroking it. Your eyes fluttered open momentarily before they shut again. “You’re back!” You mumbled groggily, reaching out to brush your fingers against his hand. “I am!” He whispered gleefully. Your other hand made its way to his face so you could stoke his jaw. You could feel a little bit of stubble coming in. Spencer’s ears perked up at the little giggle that came out of you when you dropped from the couch into his lap and wrapped yourself around him. 

“I’m sorry to wake you. I did tell you not to stay up.” His long arms swallow you into his embrace as he speaks. 

“Technically, I didn’t stay up.” You counter letting your hand make its way into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Sleeping on a surface that isn’t firm enough can contribute to back pain and because the surface of a couch tends to be softer than a mattress, it might not offer enough support for your back. Also, falling asleep while sitting up on a couch could result in your head pushing forward, which puts stress on the neck. Sleep posture is an important predictor of stiffness, back pain, and neck pain, according to several studies.” 

“Thank you Doctor. I remember why I missed you so much.” You pull back as you speak. “Who else is going to be as concerned about my sleep posture as you?”

“I missed you too.” He scoffs in amusement and smiles into the kiss you lean in for. 

You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck when you feel a yawn coming. “Let’s go to bed, okay?” He whispers, sensing your sleeping demeanour. 

“Only if I can take you with me.” You whisper into his skin. He huffs a small laugh as he pushes you off him so he can stand and offers his arms down to you. You grab them and he pulls you up. Neither of you let go of each other's hand as you walk into the bedroom. “I’m just going to brush my teeth first, then I’ll be right with you.” Spencer announces. Still ever the germaphobe.

“I’m gonna join you, that nap made my mouth all dry.” You follow behind him. Spencer grabs both of your toothbrushes and holds them out, as you grab the toothpaste and squeeze an equal amount on each brush. You then take yours out of his hand and the two of you begin brushing. You’re both trying to make up for his time away by leaning into each other, stealing glances in the mirror and smiling if you get caught. 

When you both finish up in the bathroom, you make your way back to the bedroom together. It's like both of you are incapable of being away from each other right now, even for a second. Spencer decides against changing into more comfortable clothes, wanting nothing more than to hold you. He joins you under the comforter, immediately pulling you as close to him as possible. 

Neither of you have enough energy in you for conversation right now, you’re still sleepy from your previous nap and Spencer is entirely drained from the case. Still, you acknowledge each other through light touches and kisses. Spencer’s hand now makes its way to your hair while you draw little patterns against his chest. 

‘I missed u’ 

‘I <3 u’

‘♡’

‘:)’

He doesn’t recognise the little messages, but he appreciates the feeling all the same. You begin drifting off into sleep, revelling in the warmth emitting from him. Spencer smiles when he hears light snores coming from you. He truly considers himself the luckiest man alive. You don’t hear it but before he drifts off himself, he makes his feelings known to the universe in a light whisper.

“I love you so much you know. I’m gonna marry you someday.”

Spoilers: Fluff, Domestic! Spencer, entirely fluffy & domestic. Literally a comfort blurb for the people who take hot showers for too long and just need a hug.

AN - Hey so sorry for any errors, I drafted this in like 20 minutes to make up for the fact that my originally planned story for today would not be complete in time. Enjoy this short blurb. I was in a salty mood and made an entirely angst blurb too, but decided fluff was what society needed today. Also sorry for the shitty fucking title, my brain is shutting down. Also side note - I’m a WHORE for domestic! Spencer. I just loveeeeee when everyday tasks become so cute and fluffy and romantic. PLEASE recommend domestic Spencer stories!!!

Update Schedule: Original plan drops Monday or Tuesday (Sunday or Monday night EST time). (soooo apparently I'm a liar)

Feel free to drop helpful constructive criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

[pastryfication]

Heyy I loved your cochlear implant story! I was hoping you could do something similar where reader has really bad eyesight if she's not got her glasses on? It's a big fear of mine bc I can hardly recognize different faces without my glasses 😊🤞

the thick lenses help you navigate a world that would otherwise be a blur of shapes and colors, and you rely on them more than anything, so you’ve always been very careful with your glasses. that’s why, when you hear the sound of them hitting the floor and that awful crack that follows, your heart sinks.

you stare down at the bathroom floor, but it’s just a hazy blur of light and shadows. the outlines of your broken glasses are barely visible, and the realization that you can’t see them clearly makes your chest tighten with fear. you sink to your knees, fumbling to pick up the pieces, but your hands are shaking so badly that you can’t even grasp them.

“no, no, no…” you whisper, your voice trembling as panic starts to build. you know how dependent you are on your glasses, how lost you feel without them, and now you’re faced with that terrifying reality.

“oscar!” you call out, your voice cracking with desperation. you feel a wave of helplessness crash over you, the room spinning as you struggle to keep your breathing under control.

oscar’s footsteps echo in the hallway, and within seconds, he’s at your side, his expression shifting from concern to alarm when he sees you on the floor, your hands clutching at the broken glasses. “hey, what happened?” he asks, his voice full of worry as he kneels down beside you.

“they broke,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. “i don’t have a spare… i can’t… i can’t see anything, oscar.” the words come out in a rush, your panic spiking as you try to explain just how bad it is, how everything around you is just a terrifying blur. “i don’t know what to do. what if something happens, and i can’t—”

oscar cuts you off with a comforting hand on your shoulder, and immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice fighting hard to stay steady and calm, though you can hear the underlying worry. “i’m here. you’re going to be okay. i’ll help you.”

you clutch onto his shirt, your knuckles white with the force of your grip. you’re trying to breathe, but the fear is overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you can’t see, that you’re completely vulnerable. “i’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just feel so helpless.”

oscar tightens his hold on you, his hand gently stroking your hair in a comforting rhythm. “i know,” he says softly. “but i’m not going to let anything happen to you. we’ll get through this together, okay? we’ll get you new glasses as quickly as possible.”

you nod, but the panic is still there, making your heart race and your thoughts spiral. “but how… how can i do anything without my glasses? i can’t see, i can’t…” your words are choked off by a sob, and you press your face against oscar’s chest, trying to hide how scared you really are. it may be an overreaction, you’re well aware of that, but the thought of being completely dependent on someone else, the thought of not being able to do anything, is making your heart beat faster, feeling like it’s pushing hardly against your rib cage in an attempt to get out.

“hey, it’s alright,” oscar says gently, pulling back just enough to be able to study your expression. “you’re not alone in this. i’m going to guide you through the whole day, and we’re going to take it one step at a time. you don’t have to worry about anything. i’ll be your eyes until we get new glasses, okay?”

you nod again, feeling a small flicker of relief at his words, though the fear still lingers. “okay,” you whisper, leaning into his touch as he cups your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that have started to fall.

“let’s start with breakfast,” oscar suggests, his voice gentle as he helps you up from the floor. “i’ll guide you, and we’ll take it slow.”

your grip on his arm is tight as he leads you out of the bathroom, every step feeling uncertain without being able to see anything.

oscar’s presence is a lifeline, his calm, steady voice reassuring you as he carefully guides you through the apartment. “there’s a step here,” he says softly, pausing to make sure you’re steady before continuing. “and here’s the table—i’ve got you.”

he helps you into a chair, then places a plate in front of you, gently guiding your hand to it. “scrambled eggs,” he says with a smile in his voice. “your favorite.”

you manage a small smile, though your hands are still shaking slightly as you reach for the fork. oscar doesn’t leave your side, watching closely to make sure you’re okay, his presence a constant source of comfort.

the rest of the day is a blur of anxiety and dependence, but oscar is there for every moment, helping you navigate the world that has suddenly become so much more daunting. whether it’s walking you around the apartment or helping you find your way to the couch, he’s right there, his hand steady on yours, his voice a calming presence in the midst of your panic.

at one point, he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “you’re doing great,” he murmurs into your hair, his lips brushing against your temple. “i know it’s scary, but you’re handling it so well.”

“i don’t feel like i’m handling it well,” you admit, your voice small as you cling to him, your fear still simmering just beneath the surface.

“you are,” oscar insists, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “you’re being so strong, and i’m really proud of you. just remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here, always.”

you nod, burying your face in his chest again, taking comfort in his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. you’re still scared, still feeling vulnerable and lost without your glasses, but with oscar holding you, guiding you, you know you’ll make it through the day. he’s your anchor, your calm in the storm, and you know that as long as he’s with you, you’ll always be okay.

[astralnymphh]

ellie never takes injury blithely. not with you, and not while in seattle. every second counts, in every matter possible. shepherding purgatory to abby, recovering tommy; the plan is a mirrored millpond, where every taken action is carefully watched, and nothing disrupts the gentle infrastructure. that is, until it was shaken by a setback of seraphite sorts and left you with an injured ankle. the theater became your constant panorama, with ellie trickling in here and there. always with a story to entertain boredom, sometimes written in blood. the seconds with you matter.

“just a sec.” she assures, rolling up her short sleeve. “can't be all gross and bloody when i do this.”

she sits at the flank of your makeshift bed, one leg tucked in, one leg supported by the floor. fist curled into a damp rag as she wiped away the story on her arms. the red, wringing evidence that everything outside that millpond reflected everything inside of it. holes in their plan. changes in nature. and it reflects heavily on her solemn face; quiet as the sycamore tree brushes, slowly plucking apart in fall, branches more visible each day. all that is soft has waned, and weakened against the sharpness outside those grand theater doors. she spites the desperation.

you could see the woe of your injury in her face. she really did put you first, in each and every way.

after a still silence, you croak in mumbles. “you know i can take care of myself. my arms and hands still function fine, and bandaging is easy—” you sit up to meet the level of her hung stare that shifts when your sentence ends, “tommy needs you out there.” filling her chest with air.

she huffs, “i know.” and tugs her lips to the side in thought, only for them to stretch into a stupid smirk when she says, “but you don't know how much this helps.” rolling her head to face you. auburn strands dangle.

“what helps?”

“this,” she whispers and drifts gently into you. easing her lips between yours without pressure, smacking away slowly. “seeing you alive still, keeping you that way. getting to kiss you,” she errantly adds.

cringe contorts your face. “okay,” but she continues to infect it with pecks, leading down the wings of your jaw. “well, kisses don't exactly heal an injured ankle any faster than letting me—”

“babe.” the name itself calls you to hush, a lone finger stroking up your lips. she wasn't staring at your eyes, either. her focus was solely on your lips, and you could feel that. breath in each whispered syllable hitting them. “this is really important, trust me. tired of leaving here without something to remember when m' out there. you'll get it.” her smirk only grows and snaps when the statement is sealed. humming with such satisfaction into your mouth; relieved that she won't be missing it any longer.

she relies on memory. more than ever.

side note: my birthday may or may not be on the 8th of this month.. treating myself to some fluff and angst (goddess knows i love torture🤞)

[jenosbigtoe]

i need possessive dad!jeno immediately

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: husband!lee jeno x pregnant!reader

warnings: marriage au, pregnancy sex, jen loves his pregnant wife, you call him daddy and he calls you mama

(can be read standalone or as a continuation of this)

the way jeno is so obsessed with his sweet, perfect little wifey, no wonder you got pregnant so early in your marriage!

he was already so so sweet to you, spoiling you rotten with love, affection, and lavish gifts. always coddling you and making sure you’re well taken care of. you’re his woman after all, that’s what a good husband is for. and now that you’re with child, he does everything in his power to make sure you and your little one live happily and comfortably.

in the early days of your pregnancy, even before your belly starts showing, he makes sure you have everything you could possibly want. you are craving pizza from the joint 30 minutes across town? he already put on his coat and grabbed his keys. you want to stay in bed and cuddle all day? he calls into work sick. he loves to rub your soft belly, even if you aren’t even showing any visible signs of the baby growing in your belly yet.

he goes even crazier for you when your belly started to swell and get heavy, your breasts plumping and your skin glowing. he has his hands on you at all times, never leaving your side. he comes up from behind to rub your growing belly with one hand and massage your tender breasts with the other. and when he cuddles you, snug to his chest, with his arms wrapped around your waist, he relishes at the fact his arms don’t fit around your growing belly like they used to.

and with your sweet baby growing in your belly, your body changes in other ways too. specifically, you grow needier and hornier for your husband now more than ever. jeno has been so sweet and supportive throughout your whole pregnancy, you just love him so much :(

he’s cuddling you on your side, holding you tight against his body, arms wrapped around your 6 months pregnant belly and softly rubbing circles on your bump. you rub your thighs together, feeling a familiar heat spread from your core. you press your ass harder against his bulge and lightly grind yourself on him.

he grins and moves his hands from caressing your belly to grabbing at your hips to anchor you against him. “aw is mama getting needy?”

you turn your head to press a passionate kiss against his lips, which he accepts happily. when you pull away, you pant slightly and a string of saliva connects you to him. “daddy, please,” you whine. you reach down to put your hands down his sweats, grabbing at his hardening cock.

he groans and pulls you into another hot kiss. “fuck, mama you drive me crazy.”

you give his hot cock lazy strokes as he pulls your shorts down and lifts your leg to reveal your glistening cunt. “so wet for me already, huh mama?”

you jut your lower lip out in a slight pout. “always needy for you, daddy.”

he has one hand on your thigh, keeping your leg lifted, and the other resting on your swollen belly. you guide his cock to your dripping hole, rubbing the tip on your entrance before sinking down on the shaft. you both groan at the contact.

he thrusts into you shallowly at first, just barely using the tip to fuck into your cunt. you grow frustrated, wanting—needing more.

“stop treating me like i’m made of glass,” you whine, trying to push your ass back to sink his cock deeper inside you. “fuck me harder, daddy! i can take it!!”

he suddenly slams balls deep inside, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. his tip brushes against your cervix and his veiny shaft rubs against your smooth walls, making you feel so hot and full. he pounds into your achy cunt at an inhuman pace, sending intense waves of pleasure you have never felt before getting pregnant. you’re a moaning, panting, crying mess, your pussy equally as messy from creaming and dripping arousal around his hot shaft.

“please, daddy!! need more!” you cry.

and who is jeno to deny his precious wife of what she needs when she’s carrying their growing baby?

[seijorhi]

invidia ii

a (very belated) christmas present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy who has, for two years straight, begged me for more shinnosuke content. i hope you like it bby! kuroo tetsurou x female reader, kuroo shinnosuke (oc) x female reader part i w.c 3.1k tw: noncon/dubcon, slight daddy kink, (forced) infidelity, yandere themes, nsfw, smut, age gap, i guess hints of breeding kink, dilf kuroo

“Why did your parents split up?”

Mid-way through pulling on a pair of old, grey sweatpants, mopping at beads of water from his shower still rolling down his bare chest, Shinnosuke throws you a curious look, but shrugs easily enough.

“They weren’t ever really ‘together’ to begin with. They tried the whole co-parenting thing to start with but mom… they never loved each other. Hell, I don’t even think they liked each other most of the time beyond–” he breaks off, his nose wrinkling in distaste. It almost makes you laugh. “Anyway, dad always said she had one foot out the door from the start. Dad was the one who stuck around to raise me.” There’s no animosity in his tone, he says it like it’s the simple truth. You’ve never met the woman, never having shown up to any of the Nekoma games, his graduation, any of it. You’ve seen a picture or two, overheard the odd phone call, but for as long as you’ve known him, the only real parent in Shin’s life has always been his dad.

If there’s anyone he idolises, it’s his father.

 Which is why the words that he says next – casting aside the damp towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (boys) and sauntering on over to join you in bed – take you entirely by surprise. “We’ll go visit her in Golden Week. I want her to meet you.”

And again, the words are just that; words. Shin kisses you, a sweet peck on your lips, and wastes no time in scooping you back into his arms and settling back with a contented sigh. They’re just words, but there’s this look in his eyes when he says it that makes you think he means something more. 

Your stomach flutters.

—

‘You really wanna break his heart like that, kitten?’

—

“Still not feeling any better?” Shin asks, brushing your hair back to feel your forehead. The beginnings of a frown start to take shape, teeth gently burrowing into his bottom lip, but he straightens and sighs, and that hint of discontent smoothes over like it had never existed in the first place. He strokes your hair again and offers a small, sympathetic smile. “No temperature, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

You’re a coward.

“It’s not my head, I just…” don’t have any visible, plausible symptoms for the fake illness that’s currently keeping you curled up in Shin’s bed. Away from the creep who’d smiled and fucking winked at you Christmas morning. “I just feel off.”

“Poor baby,” he coos, laughing when your face screws up and you swat at him.

Right now, swaddled in his hoodie, his fingers carding through your hair and that stupid, impish, almost believable grin beaming down at you, you want to forget. To pretend. 

Because there’s a pit in your stomach. A bitter, gnarled, seething mass. This moment right now, in Shin’s bed, it’s like glass, paper thin and already cracked, it can’t possibly last, and yet you’re clinging to it so desperately, head buried in the sand, willing yourself to pretend, from one heartbeat to the next, that what’s happened won’t break the two of you. 

That your stomach doesn’t threaten to upend when you catch sight of those hazel eyes peering down at you – the same shape and shade as his father’s.

You shudder out a breath, and what little levity there was between you two gets sucked out with it. Shin’s expression gutters.

Yeah. 

His fingers don’t leave your hair, though. Playing idly with the strands as though the suffocating tension in the room doesn’t exist at all. “Dad’s taking us out to dinner tonight,” he tells you. Reminds you, because you knew all of this beforehand. Everything but the party. “Do you want me to run by the pharmacy to get you something?”

Another tap at the fractured glass. 

That’s Shinnosuke all over, isn’t it? You might’ve been the manager back in the day, but it was always Shin who kept an eye on his team, on you, to make sure everyone was good. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll–” the words get stuck in your throat. “I’ll see how I feel in an hour or so. ‘m still a little tired.” 

“You want some tea, sweetheart?”

‘Shh, sweetheart, you gotta keep it down.’

A cold sweat breaks out on the nape of your neck. No. No, no, no, no–

“Baby?”

You flinch like he’s slapped you, jerking away from the hand he’s wound in your hair. The startled look he shoots you borders on wounded, but you’re already squirming towards the edge of the bed, stumbling to your feet like a newborn foal. “Bathroom,” you manage to eke out, your voice sounding far too strangled and hoarse to pass as anywhere near the realm of fine. 

Shin doesn’t follow, doesn’t so much as utter a word – all kicked puppy confused – as you throw the door closed behind you and collapse back against it, a sweaty, ashen mess. 

He usually calls you love. Baby. Princess when he’s being a little shit. 

Sweetheart’s a rare one. 

Your heart races, a runaway train pounding in your chest. His eyes, his touch, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Another shuddering breath in. Out. 

Fuck. 

There’s a knock – not at the ensuite door, the sound’s too muffled for that, and you didn’t hear Shin’s footsteps (though you’re not sure you would, over the pounding in your ribs) meaning that the knocking’s at his door. 

There’s only one other occupant in the house. Though you try your damndest to fight it, there’s no stopping the wave of panic that stabs through you. Shin’s door creaks open, soft voices barely creeping through the gap in the door, and your fingers go rigid, nails clawing at the black and white flooring as though you can ground yourself by breaking through it instead. 

You don’t realise you’re crying.

Not until the droplets splatter on the tiles by your feet.

—

You should’ve left days ago.

After Christmas, when you’d ducked out from under Shin’s arm and lurched for the nearest bathroom, when it’d finally clicked for him that you violently hurling your guts up wasn’t the result of a simple hangover, you’d tried. Short of admitting the truth – and swinging a bat at the bees’ nest – convincing Shin to leave his dad’s place goes about as well as drawing blood from a stone. 

He’s even less thrilled about the prospect of you going back by yourself, leaving him to spend what’s left of the week with his dad like they’d planned.

There’s only so far you can push without breaking something. You, probably. You and Shin, almost definitely. 

Even so, you might’ve had more of a backbone if he hadn’t been so… Shin. All coaxing and concerned. Logical to a damn fault. 

‘You don’t wanna be stuck in a car driving for hours when you’re feeling shitty, love, and besides, dad’s place is bigger than ours. Comfier. You’ll probably be on the mend by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point in us heading back.’

If you weren’t trying to salvage what’s left, or maybe clinging to the idea that you can – and want to – then it would’ve been easier just to go.

You wouldn’t still be here, stuck in the house of the man who’d– who’d raped you.

You wouldn’t be avoiding your boyfriend’s eye.

You would’ve screamed the whole house down before Kuroo Tetsurou ever bent you over the kitchen counter.

But the gentle extrication in the early hours of the morning, Shinnosuke’s lips brushing against your cheek, the sleepy rasp of his voice as he mumbles a quiet, “Love you,” before slipping away – you barely stir, cozy and safe and content.

He loves you. Shin loves you. 

A while later – minutes, maybe, or hours, it’s hard to tell when you’re still in the grips of sleep – the mattress dips under Shin’s weight, and those strong, sculpted arms seek your warmth again, you only sigh and lean back against him. 

“I love you,” you whisper, not yet willing to open your eyes and face another day of lying to him. 

The arm slung over your waist curls tighter, his face nuzzling into your neck. The kisses he leaves there aren’t affectionate, exactly, they’re not gentle, when teeth catch, nipping sharply at your skin, only to be soothed by a lave of his tongue.

And the laugh that rumbles at your back – a shade off your boyfriend’s – is anything but nice. 

“Yeah? Fuck, you’re sweet in the morning.”

This time, you don’t hold back. You shriek, kicking out like a wild thing – or you would have, if Kuroo’s hand hadn’t clamped down on your mouth, if his weight hadn’t shifted so that rather than lying curled up behind you, he’s half on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with a thigh lodged between yours. 

“Uh-uh-uh, we were doing so good, kitten. Don’t you wanna be daddy’s good girl?”

Your only answer is a ragged noise, torn from somewhere deep inside of you. He chuckles again, grinds against you, his cock a thick, unignorable presence pressed at your ass. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of your sleep shorts separating it from you, and from past experience, that barrier won’t do much to deter him for long.

Kuroo rolls you onto your back and slots himself nicely between your legs. Naked, you realise with a fresh stab of fear.

You scream the moment his palm leaves your lips to capture your wrists, scream for Shinnosuke – for anyone – so loudly that it feels like you’ll bleed for it. Let him come running, find you pinned and squirming, terrified beneath the man who raised him.

Let it be the final crack that obliterates everything. 

If Shin sees you like this, utterly petrified, on the verge of being raped again and still thinks it some kind of a betrayal, let him choke on it. You don’t care anymore, you just want someone to stop this. 

(Shin wouldn’t, would he?)

But Kuroo only snickers. Leans over to lick along the edge of your lashes, where hot, glistening tears are already spilling over, trickling down to disappear in your hairline. “Your boy’s not here, but we don’t have long ‘til he gets back. You’ll forgive me if we bypass the foreplay this morning, right, sweetheart?” You shudder, goosebumps prickling where his breath washes over you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and violently – pointlessly – shake your head. “We’ll have to save eating your pretty little cunt for next time.”

All too eager, he hungrily captures your lips again and yanks down your shorts, taking your panties along with them.

Christmas morning, you’d been shoved face down over the kitchen counter while he’d fucked you from behind. You’d give anything for that distance right now. At least then you hadn’t had to endure his suffocating warmth, having him squeeze and grope at your tits over your old, threadbare tee.

You wouldn’t have to writhe away from his mouth while he rucks your bare thighs up either side of his hips, dragging you closer.

Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you can’t pretend that this isn’t happening as Kuroo spits and a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock slowly – agonisingly slowly – splits you apart.

You forget how to breathe. 

Eyes popping open and back arching up into his chest, your fists clutch desperately at the sheets of Shin’s bed, trying to squirm away, only the grip he has on you makes sure there’s nowhere for you to escape to. He’s big, long, mostly, and you’re too tight to take him easily, especially without any prep. The spit doesn’t help any, and Kuroo doesn’t care, groaning out in pleasure as inch by inch he pushes himself deeper, until at last he’s seated firmly inside of you. “Good fucking giiiirl,” he purrs, a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

A tiny, drawn out whine is all you can manage when your lower half radiates pain. 

“Gonna fuck this perfect pussy nice ‘n full,” he tells you. “Give you everything you need, sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can, you just gotta breathe for me.”

But unlike last time, he doesn’t allow you the luxury of a minute to adjust. His hips draw back and punch forward, jolting another mewling gasp from your lips. And again. And again. The pace isn’t violent so much as intense, like each thrust ignites something inside of him that burns for more.

He clasps your wrists in one hand, pants into your open mouth between frenetic kisses, groans out your name in that shuddering gasp.

“Mine,” he pants, beads of sweat dripping from his chest, his chin, rolling down onto you. “You’re daddy’s girl– fuck!”

Your cunt reacts accordingly, flexing around his cock, easing its passage so that the wet, lurid sounds of him fucking you quickly fill the air. A betrayal that has your cheeks flaming. 

The muscles in your thighs burn, Kuroo all but forcing them back towards the bed, his weight driving into you with fervour. A quick adjustment to the angle of your hip and his cock hits a spot deep inside of you that has you choking on a moan of your own, a burst of bright, sizzling pleasure bleeding through the pain.

Kuroo grins ferally at the sound of it. Drops his weight on an elbow and bucks into you, hitting it again. Your inner walls twitch, squeezing and slick, dragging noises from you that make you wanna burn with shame – that, or cut yourself loose entirely. You can’t muster resistance when he swallows them down, sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth. His momentum turns rabid, his hand no longer encircling your wrists, but entangled with them, pressing them down to the mattress. “Almost… there…” he grunts, gasping as he curls over you, abs flexing.

A shudder rolls through him, his hips faltering just as something vital shatters inside of you, toes curling, white hot pleasure exploding from your core, rippling through your whole body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. With your pussy spasming around his cock, your body taut and locked with pleasure, Kuroo hurtles off that cliff right alongside you, a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaping him as he pumps your cunt full of his seed, all but collapsing atop of you afterwards.

It takes a minute before he peels himself off of you; pushing himself up, braced on elbow so that he’s not crushing you entirely, Kuroo waits, buried inside your warmth, for you to stop trembling with the after effects of your orgasm, for his cock to soften and both of your breathing to even out. 

Waits for those glazed over eyes to focus back on him and once again fill with tears, stroking a hand through your sweat-dampened hair as he does so.

“You should go take a shower before Shin gets home,” he says after a minute or two, his voice a low purr. “He can’t be far off.”

But aside from rolling off you to allow you up, Kuroo makes no moves to follow you, or so much as get up off the bed. Naked, his cock soft and glistening with your juices, one knee propped up, he watches you stumble like a newborn foal into the bathroom (only half managing to close the door behind you) with damn near predatory intent, a smirk teasing at his lips.

It’s where Shin finds you a short while later, curled up on the floor of the shower, shaking through silent sobs. 

—

Shin doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home.

Uncharacteristically sober, he says little aside from the occasional murmur to check in with you – always unanswered – and keeps you tucked close, as though a fraction of distance between you might pry you from his side entirely. 

The hours pass in a haze of… nothing. Your tears dry. Numbness takes over. You move like a robot, Shin guiding you every step of the way until you cross the threshold of your apartment.

He never asks what happened. You suppose the smell of sex in his bedroom and the bruises and love bites scattered over your body tell the tale well enough. Shinnosuke’s never been stupid. He’s not dense. 

He’s not heartless, either.

In the sanctity of your tiny, shitty bathroom, you shower again. A proper shower this time, with the water turned up full blast, scrubbing viciously at your skin– or at least, you do until he steps in and takes over. You’ve never thought of your boyfriend as particularly gentle, but he pries the loofah from your hand with a delicacy you didn’t know him capable of and takes care of you, cleaning you up with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

You pretend not to notice how his eyes (so like his, sharp and hazel) narrow into a scowl every time he spots another bruise, another mark left by his father. Once or twice his fingers begin to ghost over them, burgundy fingerprints on your thigh, a love bite sucked into the delicate skin above your collarbone, only to catch himself, swallowing tightly and resuming his task like he’d never faltered in the first place. 

When you’re done, he dries you both off and helps you into fresh clothes – a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old hoodie of his and guides you back to the living room, setting you down into his lap on the couch.

“I–” his voice is hoarse. Quiet, especially in the stillness of the apartment, and when you glance his way, he awkwardly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I went to the pharmacy. I thought– I thought…” he trails off again, dropping his gaze. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Your heart twists, and it’s your turn to comfort him. Or maybe you’re comforting each other, shifting slightly in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around him and draw him in close, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him. “No. I– it wasn’t…” but the words don’t come. You flounder. 

What are you supposed to say? It wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t yours?

You should’ve said something earlier? Should’ve fought back harder – against both of them, should’ve grown a spine?

A beat passes in the tense, thick silence, and when it becomes clear that you’ve got nothing for him, he makes an odd sort of huff that sounds almost irritated. You frown a little, but you don’t fight it when his arms pull tighter around you, when his cheek comes to a rest against your hair and his hands seek yours, curling around your wrists and stroking at the skin there. 

“We’ll get through this,” he vows. “I love you, this doesn’t change anything. It won’t change anything.” His lips meet the crown of your head in a soft kiss. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Feelings Made Visible: Design Choices in The Sign

I am sure I am not the first person who has picked up on this, but I wanted to talk briefly about something I noticed in the Tharn and Phaya fantasies that were really intriguing to me.

So, generally I dislike intimacy fake outs, it often feels like fanservice in a way in that the story is building tension between it's characters and doesn't want that tension to break while also knowing that an audience seeing a ton of swerved or interrupted kisses may piss them off a little bit. And while I don't love that The Sign has given us the intimacy fake outs in the previews for episodes, I have really enjoyed them in the show itself because they serve a function beyond just catering to an audience that knows Billy is one of the best in the business when it comes to acting horny and just wants to see him making out with Babe.

The fake out intimate scenes in The Sign do a really great job at demonstrating the difference in expectations and desires between Phaya and Tharn.

In Tharn's fantasy he wants to be handled a touch more aggressively, he wants to be pressed against walls and choked, etc etc while Phaya's fantasy shows a deep desire for soft intimacy. He wants to be taken care of, he wants to be handled tenderly. And, like a number of us have pointed out at this point, you can see what aspects of their reality inform their fantasy. Phaya is pressed against Tharn's back at the end of their sparring match, and then Phaya is pressed against Tharn's back when they are about to start fucking in Tharn's fantasy.

Tharn strokes his thumb gently against Phaya's hand and wrist at the doctor's and then Tharn strokes his thumb gently against Phaya's hand and wrist in Phaya's fantasy.

That's all well and good. But there is another thing that they have been doing with these fantasies that are really interesting to me, and that is the difference in the way they are visually structured. In Tharn's fantasy in the bathroom, the lighting is vibrant and unnatural, a total wash of pinks and blues that almost drowns everything else out. In Phaya's fantasy on the couch, the scene is lit naturally but a bokeh effect is superimposed over top of their make out session.

And thinking back throughout the course of the show, these two visual cues are frequently following Tharn and Phaya throughout any and all of their potentially intimate moments.

When Tharn is drunk in Episode 2 and Phaya has dragged him in to the bathroom, the bathroom itself is lit up with a soft pink glow that brushes over Tharn and Phaya's skin. And while they are both leaning in to their desire here, their lips almost touching, Phaya actually giving in a little and kissing Tharn's forehead when he looks down at Phaya's amulet, it is Tharn who is iniating all of the romantic/flirtatious physical contact. It is Tharn that says he won't let Phaya go, it is Tharn that pins Phaya against the bathroom stall and kisses his cheek, it is Tharn that goes in for the actual kiss before getting distracted. And as a result of that we get Tharn's visual cues with the bathroom lighting, not Phaya's visual cues with the bokeh effect. And for what it's worth, the lighting here is real, when Yai enters the restroom and it is really just Yai and Phaya in a shot, they are still awash in pink. Which is why I think the lighting is fun but realistic (aka lighter/more muted) rather than absolutely consuming the scene.

At the beginning of Episode 3, Phaya returns to his grandmother's home and for a moment he invisions Tharn is cuddling him in bed, and for the brief time that Phaya is leaning in to that fantasy, he is under white/uncolored lighting the entire time, but those bokeh flares cover the screen until he snaps out of the dream and realizes he is alone in bed.

gif by @thisautistic

The same goes for later on in the episode for both of the soft, quick kisses between Naga and Garuda and Phaya and Tharn. When Phaya has the dream of him and Tharn in the past, there is a moment where they share a kiss, and again they are in natural lighting with a bokeh effect appearing when they actually kiss. And while this is a moment of shared intimacy between Naga and Garuda, it is occuring in Phaya's dream and as such we get the visualization of Garuda's feelings rather than having any visual confirmation of Tharn's. Same goes for when Phaya gives Tharn a goodnight kiss at Tharn's grandmother's house. In the moments leading up to the kiss all the lighting is natural, and they actually play a little bit here (and quite frequently if you look back at it) with string lights that give scenes almost a natural bokeh effect with the way the lights form little circles on screen.

gif by @25shadesoffebruary

So the entire time that Phaya and Tharn are talking on the dock there are little string lights in the background that sit near Phaya's head, and when he wraps his hand around the back of Tharn's head (something that appears in Phaya's fantasy make out on the couch later) and pulls Tharn in for a kiss, the bokeh effect flash large and bright across the screen. In parallel to the bathroom flirting, this time it is Phaya that is initiating all the action. It is Phaya who is flirting, it is Phaya that leans in for the kiss, and therefore it is Phaya's bokeh effect that appears when they actually share a moment of intimacy.

In Episode 4, Phaya offers to drive Tharn home, but forces them to stop for hot pot first. Tharn protests at first, but Phaya grabs him sexily by the shirt and starts dragging him of screen, pulling him for all intents and purposes in to a date. And at this point in the show, if you don't think Tharn reciprocates feelings for Phaya you are burying your head in the sand. SO. Tharn likes being here. He likes being on this kinda-sorta date with Phaya. Eating food and sharing space, and the moment that Tharn gets up from the table, the scenes turns to very intensely focus on him. As a result, the lighting in the background of the scene is a deep, bright, pink. A visualization of Tharn's feelings for Phaya.

gif by @25shadesoffebruary

And that pink lighting continues as we head in to Tharn's apartment and wind up in Tharn's fantasy. Phaya has just manhandled him (something Tharn likes), he's taken him on a date (with quite enough plausible deniability for Tharn's emotional walls to maintain that's not what he was doing because he can't fall in love with Phaya because everyone Tharn loves dies), and now Phaya is sleeping right outside his door. Something I very much appreciate about The Sign is that there is no mistaking these men's sexuality. There are no struggles with it, they don't have to fight against internalized homophobia before they are willing to be intimate with each other, and Phaya and Tharn are both experience a decent amount of early-to-mid twenties horniess that allows them to be very obvious about and open with their physical reactions to carnal desire. These are men that have clearly fucked before. And it is not that Tharn wouldn't jump Phaya's bone at the first opportunity, it is fully about Tharn's trauma history. If Tharn didn't have the baggage that he did, if he hadn't lost so many people that he loved, you know he'd have no hang ups about this and he and Phaya would have been fucking from like…week one of base camp.

And we know this from the moments where Tharn is not in his head. He initiates the physical intimacy when he's drunk, and when he is asleep he has his fantasy. And because this moment happens in a dream we get a far less realistic coloration to the lighting and instead get the very intense, saturated pink that covers every inch of the bathroom. And while we do get a little bit of a string light situation that is evocative of a bokeh effect, we don't acutally get a bokeh effect. Because this is 100% Tharn's fantasy.

gif by @firstmix

The color play continues at their next intimate moment when Tharn is patching up Phaya's wound, yelling at him about not being stupid and going off alone, and telling him never to say it's okay if he dies. When Phaya stands up to walk away, Tharn reciprocates the shirt pull from the beginning of Episode 4 (because The Sign perpetually says #verserights) and we get a moment where Phaya and Tharn are backlit by red and blue flashing lights from the police vehicles in the area. AND not only that but the way the lights reflect off of the medical van window alludes alludes to a bokeh effect. Because they are sharing this moment. Phaya is touched by Tharn caring so much about him, and horny about Tharn manhandling him. Tharn is pissed at Phaya for putting himself in harms way and is showing how deeply he cares for Phaya with his "never say it's okay if you die in front of me again" statement.

gif by @smileytharn

During the fight in Episode 5 there are a ton of colors being tossed around in that warehouse. The lighting itself is yellow and green, that snake dude is radiating green magic, and when Tharn steps in front of Phaya to protect him and gets stabbed he throws out some yellow magic in return. Cool. Noted. BUT because I am talking primarily about the intimate moments and their visual cues, I want to get at one of my favorite touches in the entire show/one of my favorite touches in BL, which is when Tharn wipes the sweat from the top of Phaya's lip. Because again, we are here in reality, so while we do have some non-traditional/realistic lighting happening in the warehouse, it's not as obvious or all consuming as Tharn's dreams are. HOWEVER! There is a deep, rich, saturated red-orange light behind Phaya's head every time the camera cuts to his face when Tharn is in his arms. It's there right before Tharn brushes his thumb across Phaya's lip and it's there when the camera cuts back to Phaya after Tharn has completed his action. There is no bokeh effect, and no allusion to it because Phaya is not experiencing a romantic moment here. This is a shared intimate moment, sure. But Phaya is fucking terrified for Tharn's health and safety. It is only Tharn that is engaging in some level of intimate/romantic touch and thusly it is only colored lighting that we get on screen.

gif by @forcebook

When they go back to Tharn's apartment, and we enter Phaya's fantasy, it is rife with bokeh effects. We have bokeh effects coming out of the wazoo. Phaya loves Tharn, Phaya cares for Tharn deeply, Phaya's connection to Tharn goes back centuries, through multiple reincarnations, and Phaya thought for a moment he was about to watch Tharn die. Phaya thought for a moment Tharn was going to die thinking that Phaya was pissed at him, with their last moment being Phaya punching Tharn in the face so hard he bled. And so Phaya really wants to be close to Tharn. He was to be comforted by Tharn. He was to be treated gently by Tharn, and he wants to reciprocate that gentle care for Tharn as well. In Phaya's fantasy he asks Tharn to blow on his wounds, and then asks to do the same for Tharn. Now, if you will allow me a brief tangent- from a script standpoint this make out fake out is incredible because Phaya knows Tharn so well that even in his fantasy he correctly identifies almost verbatim what some of Tharn's responses will be. Sure, he doesn't anticipate the "what if saliva gets in the wound and you get an infection?" but he does absolutely nail the "you don't need to look at my wound, the doctor took care of it" response. Tangent over. ANYWAY, Phaya indulges in this fantasy and the screen is absolutely drowning in bokeh effect because this moment belongs entirely to Phaya who has had an incredibly emotional day, and is therefore experiencing extremely large/deep/big emotions here too.

Where am I going with this? Well. Earlier today I was scrolling on tumblr (because I am physically incapable of leaving tumblr for more than 10 minutes at a time) and I saw that @negrowhat had reblogged some screenshots of an intimate scene from the official trailer for The Sign and I saw this:

Now. We don't know when this moment comes, we can't confidently say that it is real (though Episode 7 apparently promises no tricks this time). But I think it is real for one reason in particular:

Both Tharn and Phaya's visual cues are present at the same moment.

Up through now we have not actually seen that occur. We maybe had some level of allusion to a bokeh effect at the same time as some interesting color choices, but we haven't actually had a bokeh effect and a bright color at the same time. And even if we do want to count those allusions, this idea still holds because those moments where we've had some modicum of both are shared moments of intimacy from both parties. SO anyway, I think that when Tharn and Phaya actually have sex together we are going to see both of their visual metaphors joining together (since they are…ya know…joining together).

Alright. Time for the big whammy. I don't know how eagles see, I know they see well and I highly doubt they see in bokeh effect, so I don't have much to say about Phaya's visual cues around intimacy from a garuda perspective, except to say that hsi fantasies are always in correct and proper color. Where I do think the choice gets interesting is with Tharn. Now Tharn is naga, which I guess aren't technically snakes, but I don't know what the eyesight rules of sea serpents are so I'm going to go based off actual serpents.

Snakes see in infrared.

What does this mean? It means their color perception is bright, saturated, and heat focused. If you ever look at an infrared camera, you can see that areas of higher heat are typically demarcated in the red, orange, yellow spectrum. I don't think pink is a traditional infrared color but there have been moments throughout the show where red lighting connects Phaya and Tharn (police lights, the lighting behind him in the kidnapping/murder warehouse). And infrared lighting is intense. So I for one think it is absolutely fucking brilliant on the part of the director/cinematographer/lighting designer/production team to make the choice that Tharn's emotions about Phaya are going to be tied to color. That the naga that is lying dormant in him comes out subconsciously, unconsciously whenever naga and garuda are close. And I especially love that the moments of deepest color are when Tharn is dreaming because a) dreams are already fucking wild and b) it is one of the few times Tharn is not dragging his feet, gritting his teeth, kicking and screaming, and desperately trying to hold on to the emotional and physical distance he feels like he needs to have from Phaya in order to make sure Phaya survives.

I look forward to seeing what they do with these effects as the show continues. This has been Killing Time While on an Airplane with Captain Hands, thank you for your time.

[fawnprincessblog]

𝒫𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓮

type: smut (bill kaulitz 2010 × fem reader)

includes : d0m!bill, fingers in reader's mouth. uh,blurb please! : bill preps you so you can give him a sweet blowjob.

bambi's note! : hey loves, i'm really sorry i haven't been able to post the stories i have written for all your request. my days have been really difficult, and im trying to find the time to finish what i was requested...i really hope u guys understand...for now, pls accept this short story i wrote a while back :/

You've never attempted to suck Bill off before. You knew your throat was small, and you knew you were inexperienced. You were liable to choke on the slightest things that triggered your gag reflex, and you feared leaving Bill displeased with your inability to suck him off, since it would be undeniably embarrassing. Though, Bill craved to feel your warm mouth around his length, and he was determined to teach the slow way before pushing you the hard way. 

"Open your mouth, Engel," Bill said. "I'm going to teach you how to please me tonight." 

It was a quiet night. Seated on the bed you and Bill shared, you were looking at him, dumbfounded. He was face to face with you, his fingers stroking your hair softly as he encouraged you to open your mouth for him so he could teach you how to suck him off. He had been eager this whole time, wanting to get you to do something you weren't able to do, especially since you were weak. Normal sex had become monotonous for him, and he ached to feel something else; something much more pleasurable.

"I said, open your mouth," he repeated, irritation lacing his tone. "I want to see that pretty little mouth of yours." You feared choking on his huge size, and you didn't know what he was trying to do to you. Bill got frustrated easily, and he liked you obeying his words, which you weren't doing. 

His thumb stroked your lower lip, as if he were observing it. "I want you to practice," Bill said, his tone becoming impatient with your behaviour. Reluctantly, you slowly part your lips, opening your mouth for him finally. 

"Good girl," he said softly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Bill then placed two fingers at your lips, slipping them straight into your mouth. Slowly, he started massaging your tongue and the roof of your mouth. He used his other hand to tug on your hair, forcing  your head back slightly. You whimper at the feeling, confused with why he did this in the first place. Though, you took his fingers obediently with no attempt to pull away. 

"That's it," he said, pleased with the way you were cooperating. With Bill, you are invariably submissive. Everything he said was to be obeyed, and you loved receiving all the little praises after you had done something that visibly made him happy. It pleased you to hear him appreciate your efforts, even if it was a painful or unpleasing one.

"You'll learn to love this," he said in a low tone, his fingers moving in sync with the rhythm of his words. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, teasing you leisurely. "And when I say you'll please me, you'll know exactly what I mean."

You could feel him massaging your tongue and the roof of your mouth with a little more roughness to it now. It was like he was checking and prepping you to fit his size. Whimpers and soft whines left your lips as he continued to finger your mouth, your breath quickening the more he did it. Strangely, you liked it. 

"Close your eyes," Bill ordered, his two fingers still stuffed in your mouth. Obediently, you close your eyes, wondering what he wanted you to do next. "Now imagine my cock in your mouth. Suck on it like you want to taste all of me," he then added, which surprised you a little. You weren't sure how to imagine something you haven't done before. 

You re-open your eyes, meeting Bill's face in front of you once more. You looked at him pathetically and shook your head, trying to tell him you didn't know how to imagine such a thing. Though Bill wasn't going to let that happen, so he leaned his face in closer to yours. "I'll help you," he whispered, starting to thrust his fingers in and out of your mouth again, your saliva coating them. The feeling was a little unusual, but you did what you were supposed to. Closing your eyes slowly, you began to suck on his fingers while he moved them in and out of your mouth. 

"There you go," he murmured, pleased to feel your warm, wet mouth envelop his fingers. "My cock is so thick and hard. Just like you like it," he whispered, using words to help you imagine a different situation. Just the thought of it aroused you. His words made you needy, and you knew how badly you were needing it now. "Now, try to take them deeper," he instructed, his fingers pushing further into your mouth. His other free hand gently massaged your neck as if he were helping your throat warm up, guiding your movements. 

"Mmf—" you whimpered, feeling his fingers invade deeper into your mouth. Bill took your noises of slight discomfort as improvement of your throat warming up to something that was trying to hit your gag reflex. He liked the sight of you sucking on his fingers; it only fuelled his desire and lust to escalate things much faster now. "That's right, sweetheart, just like you love it."

You continue to suck on his fingers, as if a baby would with a pacifier. "Good girl, Engel," he breathed, the thumb of his free hand running across your soft cheek. "You're a natural." His fingers pumped in and out of your mouth a little harsher now, eliciting a soft moan from you. The more he praised your movements, the more it pleased you. You liked hearing him say good things about you so much. 

"Now, if you please me like this, I'll fuck you so good later," he whispered, feeling you suck harder onto his fingers. These words increased the arousal you were feeling. A few more pumps and soft words, and Bill pulled his fingers out from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingers. You whine softly at the lost of contact. "That's enough, sweetheart," he says, sucking your saliva off of his fingers. 

Bill then got up, unzipping his pants. "Now get on your knees properly. It's time for the real deal." 

glossary corner!! : Engel (angel, in German.)

[divinelolita]

hii could you do bill x ftm!reader?? like reader is really dysphoric and he needs lots of reassurance 😭😭 there's literally no th ftm fics and I'm feinding

BILL KAULITZ X FTM! READER

a/n: ive been waiting to post a fic like this! as someone who's trans myself ive literally found like 2 fics...like what? 🙁 tysm for requesting and always remember you're loved xx!

"What's wrong, baby?"

Bill asks as he flops down on the couch next to you, his messy black hair sprawled out on the cushions as he looks up at you. You're visibly upset, but he can't quite put his finger on why.

"...Nothing," You had murmured back, shrugging softly as your fingertips roamed over the remote control, trying to find a show you might enjoy. "...just things." You finished, letting out a small sigh.

Bill raised his arched eyebrow high at that. He adjusted himself a little on his elbows, propping himself up to see your face better. "Things?" He parroted, giving a small tilt of his head.

You just gave a small nod. It was a little very hard for you to be able to open up about your gender dysphoria, you always had fears of your insecurities being turned against you. Bill had known you were trans, you broke the news a few days into dating.

He didn't see you any differently. You were his boyfriend. His boy.

When Bill narrowed his eyes a bit and bit his inner cheek, you knew he definitely wasn't satisfied with your answer. He was very keen on wanting to talk things out, which was great for most things. But this was...different. Hard.

"...I guess, it's just, uhm..." You began slowly, trying to find the right words to describe how you felt. Your tongue felt tied as Bill's head tilted, gesturing for you to continue.

"I feel...different." You finally manage to mumble out. You felt hot tears prick your eyes and you tried desperately to blink them back, biting your bottom lip nervously.

"I mean...I...I know I'm different. But it hurts, y'know? I just want to be normal, feel normal." You whisper, your voice cracking as your body shakes. You feel a hot tear run down your cheek and your heart races. You quickly go to wipe it, before you feel Bill's soft, gentle thumb brush beneath your eyes.

When you bring yourself to meet his gaze, his hazel eyes are soft, soothing almost. "You are normal, honey." He whispered, speaking in a calming voice as if he was speaking to a wounded animal. "You're perfect the way you are, I wouldn't trade you in for anybody." He murmured as his black manicured fingers softly stroked your cheek in soothing circles.

You felt tears well in your eyes as twice the speed, but not from sadness or worry this time. You felt comforted, more calm than you've felt in what seems like forever. "You mean everything to me, babe. I mean...look at you. You're perfect." He says softly, his own voice cracking slightly as he looked over your features.

"I promise, no matter what, you'll always be my boy."

[dawnoftime22]

stuffed cat plush.

| T.S

Warnings: R cuddled up with a cat plush, slight worrying from R of why Taylor loves them, a fic thats a teensy bit childish(?), but will entirely melt your heart

Summary: A cuddle session after Taylor gets home from work was all she needed. Especially when she sees the sight of you holding something precious to you in your arms while you slept in bed.

Word Count: 1.6k

Category: fluff, comfort

A/N: okay I maaay be guilty of accidentally spending my time on playing games and had strayed off from writing...I didn't have this already finished before, so its a little late, but I hope you all enjoy it still! :]

A/N 2: also if anyone else has a plushie they keep for themselves, I'd love to hear what their names are or what you have<3

| Started on 27/04/2024, 11:14 PM |

| Finished on 11/07/2024, 7:47 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

seven days of comfort.

"Hold every part of yourself dear, sweetheart. Every one of them make up the version of you in the present."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was the late afternoon when Taylor arrives back home, the front door shutting gently with her hand. The house was quiet, and outside was growing darker with the nighttime.

Taylor looks around, breathing in the feel of home, but as her eyes search the area, you were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, and not in the kitchen.

She takes off her shoes and sets the keys on its original place upon the hook, then look around more. Thinking, maybe you were in the bedroom, and had chosen a more comfortable spot.

When she arrives to the bedroom, she leans against the doorframe. There you were, on the bed, curled up with a cat plushie in your hand. A gentle smile raises up when she looks at you, her heart melting at the sight.

She walks towards your sleeping form and her lower lip jutted out just slightly in adoration. "Oh, baby..." her voice was a mere whisper, a breath laced with sweetness as she kneels down at the edge of the bed.

Your peacefulness was evident in your face, and she was almost afraid she'd wake you. Taylor's arms fold on the side of the bed, palms facing downwards so she can rest her jaw on her hands.

What a thing to come home to after such a long day, she thought. This was what she adored, what has her keeping her balance. You. The little things.

Her eyes trace every feature visible, everything she loved about you. And the cat plush especially, made her smile wider.

Your hand was curled around it, clutching it close to your chest as you slept. Its eyes were closed, just as yours were, as it always has been.

One of her hands slowly reach up to the cat. Of course, she knows that even though you're sleeping, it would be proven difficult to grab it out from your hold. If there was even the slightest movement, you would grip it tighter.

But she only went to stroke its head lightly, using the side of her index finger, curled up and brushing, just to feel the soft fur.

It was something she got for you long ago. The plush may be just a little ragged, and some stitches were coming loose just a bit by now, but that only shows how much its been given love, and she loves that you can find comfort in it.

The fur on its body was going in one direction, and that was one of the signs that you had possibly been going through the fur with your fingers just before you went to sleep.

Her hand trails up to your cheek, lightly brushing against your soft skin. She can feel the love pouring in her heart, beating in her chest.

Taylor leans in to lay a kiss just on the tip of your nose before she pulls herself back, about to stand up and go to the bathroom to shower, but one small movement from you makes her freeze.

You started to stir, holding your plush tighter before awakening. She watches as your eyes flutter open, blinking away the lingering darkness.

As you adjust back into reality, you realize the figure standing in front of you, and your voice comes out, husky and still engulfed in sleep. "...Tay?"

She smiles softly, seeing your misty eyes meet her blue ones, and she leans back down, still kneeled beside you. "Yeah, sweetheart...I'm home," she whispered, keeping her voice quiet and soft.

You feel her hand gently meet yours in a reassuring embrace, and you let out a gentle breath of relief, having wondered if she was actually there or you were dreaming.

When her hand goes up to your cheek, you lean into the touch, looking up at her with a sleepy lovestruck look. You traced the outline of her eyes before looking into them. Her eyes were so pretty. They were starry as they looked back into yours, like the ocean reflecting the galaxies; simply glimmering with safety, and love.

Her smile widens as she feels the adoration within your gaze, and she leans in to kiss between your cheek and your nose. You crinkled the bridge of your nose, which only made her heartrate faster.

A yawn escapes through your mouth though, and you try to close it with your hand. Taylor purses her lips, although the corners were lifted in a smile that she tried to hide, seeing you being adorable.

"...You got a nice nap?" She asks with the same volume, pushing your hair back gently. Her soft breath was like a feather, tickling your skin lightly as she slowly pulls back.

"Mmhm..." You nod, humming softly as you hold your cat plush closer to your chest, your eyelids falling heavy as you blinked sleepily. She stifles a small giggle, which came out ever so slightly, but you didn't mind or even notice at all.

"Yeah...? Who's this keeping you company?" She whispers, keeping her voice hushed. You blink at her, then you notice that she was looking at the stuffed cat in your hands.

"The plushie you gave me..." You whisper, a light pink flushing over your cheeks as you cuddle closer into it. Her happiness was visible in her eyes, how it squeezed with love, joined in with her smile.

When you saw her hand reaching out, you loosened your grip and let her carefully stroke the fur of your cat plush. She lightly pets the head once she was satisfied, silently thanking it for keeping you comforted and peaceful, and you were grateful at how gentle she seemed to be.

"You look so cute, all cuddled up with it like that." She says. If she wanted to be completely honest, she had the extreme urge to squeeze you, her hands nearly coming up in a frustrated gesture, but she held herself back and kissed your cheek instead.

You giggle, leaning in again to steal a kiss on the lips rather than anywhere else, your skin tingling with all the kisses she's given you before.

"Mind if I join this cuddling session?" Taylor asks, standing up properly and looking down at you. You smile and nod in acceptance, having been hoping she'd join you in bed, even though you've been laying there for hours.

Taylor rounds the bed to get to her side, and you feel the bed dip as she joins you, shuffling closer to you once she put her arm around you.

You lean back against her before deciding to turn around and face her instead. She lets you snuggle into the crook of her neck your plushie in between the both of you.

She sighs softly and slowly in contentment, nuzzling gently into your hair. It was as if only the two of you existed in the world, just in this small moment.

Her eyes fall to a shut. She could feel the warmthness the space holds, and all her worries of her work and life fades away, carried by the fuzzy feeling in her chest. It was all she's ever wanted. To be home, with you.

"Tay," she hears you whisper, and her eyes open slightly again, a questioned hum coming gently from her throat.

You smiled as you saw her, it was as if you can see the tenseness in her dissipate and melt away within your cuddle. But you were holding your cat plush in front of her, as an offer of comfort.

She chuckles, "...Thank you..." Her voice was barely a whisper as her hand took it, and she snuggled it close to her chest. You watched as she leaned down, laying a gentle kiss to its head.

"But you should have it," she says, placing it back into your arms, and you look at her for a moment before she had wrapped her arm around you again.

"I just want you, and cuddles, baby..." she murmurs, smiling softly as she goes to tenderly press a kiss on your cheek.

You felt a warmth raising on your face and in your heart, but accepting what she needed. Your own arm return the embrace, going around the centre of her body as your other one kept itself on your plushie.

She lovingly kisses the side of your head, not minding at all to simply spend time with you like this. Even with your little friend joined in. She could stay like this forever.

Her legs go around yours, absolutely taking you entirely, and the smallest giggle escapes you. But once you grow quiet and settle down, your mind ends up wandering in thought. Taylor looks down, her upper body leaning back just slightly to look at you properly, gazing with love.

“...Why do you love me so much?” You ask suddenly, curiously, and although it was a casual tone, it held the slightest hint of vulnerability. One of your hands reached up, fiddling with her necklace with a gentle touch.

Taylor blinks for a second, trying to process if she heard you correctly, but then chuckles softly, her hand resting on your waist. "You silly baby," she says lovingly. She gently takes your hand that found her necklace and presses a kiss to it. "How can I explain... I love every little thing about you..."

She whispers, then her eyes trail to your stuffed cat. "You know, I love that you take comfort from the smallest things. Its so sweet." She tells you, her hand reaching out to gently touch one of your stuffed cat's legs, wiggling it slightly.

You smile, then nuzzle into her chest. "I love you..." you murmur, but to her, it was loud and clear, especially with your loving gesture. You then turn your face out from her chest, which made her melt.

Taylor smiles back at you, her eyes bright with happiness and adoration. She leans in to gently kiss your lips, a soft whisper of love escaping her lungs. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

"More than words can express," she whispers, like a dear promise that she'll hold onto for the rest of her life.

---------------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @escapereality4music @fawnedolly @justgayloringeverthrone @lovelyy-moonlight @stevecore @midastouch013 @liloandstitchstan @maleahoswick @raven-ss

[god-has-entered-my-body]

thinking thinking… girlie sucking him off with a finger inside of him teehee then she’d be able to feel it when he cums and-

oh anon i love you so so so much for this. thoughts are being thought and here they are:

I feel like you'd have him on the bed, thinking you're just gonna fuck around a bit and then go do something else, which is not rare for you at all.

Once your hand reaches down to unbuckle his belt he'll sigh happily, letting his back hit the mattress as filthy words spill from his lips, surring you on and encouraging you as you squeeze him through his boxers.

"Wanna to make me feel good? Fuckkk-" and you smile, planting wet kisses along the inside of his thighs as he squirms, cock twitching and straining against the fabric until you finally, finally slip his underwear off of him, tapping his hips telling him to lift them up for you. "I love your pretty face baby, gets me off s'much, could look at you all day."

He looks mesmerized when you start to mouth along his cock, tongue dragging over the sensitive skin making him writhe under you as your hand finds his, giving it a gentle squeeze. You pull off him midway through, a flicker of an idea visible in your wide eyes as you bring two of your fingers to Matty's parted lips, telling him to suck them.

Matty cocks an eyebrow but obliges, swirling his tongue around your digits like his life depended on it, maybe even letting a performative moan slip out when you press down slightly. He expects you to use the extra lubrication to get him off, and you do, just in a different way.

His eyes widen when you finally do speak, your tone playful but commanding.

"Spread your legs for me pretty." one of your hands is on his cock, lazily stroking him off as he processes your words, a soft gasp spilling from his lips when you circle your fingers over his hole, teasing him. "D'you want me to?" Matty's answer is breathless "Fuck, more than anything, please."

You kiss his tip, bubbling with precum that dribbles down his cock, leaving a musky, salty taste in your mouth that is so distinctly Matty it makes your head spin.

He visibly twitches when you push two fingers inside of him with a bit of effort, feeling him clench down a bit. He begs you to keep going, telling you how good it feels and that he's seeing fucking stars.

"You're so deep baby, I don’t— I don’t think I can last any longer, fuck, please-" you can only nod as his cock fills your mouth, making you breathe deeply through your nose as you stroke his g-spot, the joint stimulation making Matty's vision white out.

You bring him to the edge relatively quickly, nuzzling your face into his thigh as your hands work him, filthy words making his eyes water with pleasure as he peers down at you, legs spread obscenely.

"Like getting fingered like a girl, yeah? Gets you off?" Matty nods frantically, his hips coming off the bed as his orgasm approaches rapidly, desperate whines filling your ears like heaven on earth.

"Please darling, make me cum." he begs, wanting your permission. "I've been so good for you, all pretty and pliant, hm? Everything you could ever wa- fuckk-" his eyes screw shut as your fingers brush against his g-spot again, bringing him right to that delicious edge.

"Cum for me baby, paint my face." you coo, the implication that he could cum all over your face making him dizzy with lust. He orgasms with a cry of your name, thick ropes of cum covering your face in a way that is now burned into the back of his mind forever xx

[slickfordain]

“Fontaine is coming out!”

Me: 😦😀😚🥰🦥 (rip storage)

GN!readerxNeuvillette, mentions of detailed gore, Yandere-themed, based off of Veil manga (EmmaxAlexander)

“Rest, my dear, you must be feeling ill.”

Neuvillette— a man known for punishment and laws, a man who would do anything to keep his beloved safe— which is, fortunately, you. [Name] [Last name], a member in Fontaine— a lovely little fellow who’d just sit back and relax, eating biscuits and make yourself look beautiful/handsome (or just pretty if you prefer). And, dear me do I say, Neuvillette is completely smitten by you as much as he’d love to deny it.

He was in your soft cozy bedroom where you owned some few fairy lights dangling above the ceiling, with Neuvillette and you sitting on top of the bed in the middle— the older man brushing your [Hair color] hair gently. (Doesn’t matter if your hair is short— he’ll brush it anyway-)

“I’m fine, Neuvillette… I didn’t fall down the stairs like last time..” You mumbled out, trying to convince your best friend that it was all well— even though, you’ve caught feelings for him. It was mutual pining, and it was adorable how close you two were, even if nobody knew that… Everyone just assumed you were a stranger to Neuvillette, but behind closed doors, he’s quite a gentleman and very soft with you.

Neuvillette sighs, scoffing a bit, because you’re always saying your fine— but recently you just almost died by being in the way of a robot who was speeding it’s way, so he can’t say you’re fine. “You do realize you followed a stranger last time.. Hm? And what about you having troubles with money and debt? You know I could just pay it off for you.” The male exclaims, suggesting it’s better to just leave everything to him rather than you going outside again. He refuses to let you out.

He might as well lock you up, if that were the very case.

You just softly pouted, furrowing your eyebrows slightly considering he did have a point— but you were too stubborn to admit your embarrassing moments to him, even if you both are best friends. “It was an accident…. Neuvillette, you’re too humble for me… I feel like I owe you something..” Neuvillette had a light chuckle at the moment you said that, and shakes his head before his silk-like long fingers trails and strokes your hair just a bit.

However…. His face soon darkens.. He did remember about Furina getting personally close to you… And that damn Fatui, Arlecchino, having her own personal favoritism towards you. It was overwhelming, and stressing— even. Neuvillette didn’t want you to be exposed, but it ends up with everyone in Fontaine knowing your very existence when they shouldn’t.

“…” He was silent for a moment, but there was a mere smirk being visible on his face— but you couldn’t see because your back is turned, and because he’s doing your hair nicely.

“You owe me nothing, darling. All I’m asking of you, is to sit here, in this very room… And do nothing.” He confirms, nodding slowly at his own words that he commented out. “That is all I’ll ever ask of you. After all, I know how weak you are…. You almost died by a ruin guard, after all.” Your body froze a little, a bit terrified by the very memory…

…

You think maybe he’s right…. But you also want to buy biscuits for yourself— but it’s fine with just soup if it meant for you to not injure yourself again… So, you complied with his request. “… Alright… I’ll stay..” You agreed, much to his amusement before he stops brushing your hair. He soon touches your arms very softly, slowly…. “How about I do your skin-care routine?” He suggests, again. “I know how much you care about having a fine smooth skin…” And he adores your [Skin color] skin. It’s so soft to touch… It’s so mesmerizing.

You smiled, glancing up at him to see he has his neutral face on— only because he can’t reveal his true intentions you’re unaware of. “I’d love that very much…” You confirmed. “After all, I have to meet up with Navia later… She says she has some important questions for me, so I might as well head off and come back later..”

Neuvillette darkened his face again, at that comment. He knew of Navia— and knows of her informations and what she’s about… Of course, she’d take a liking to you because you’re a very lovely sweet person to chat with.. It’s also no wonder why Furina doesn’t bother you at all despite that she’s a brat herself.

Sure, you two were just best friends… But he had bonded with you so much he got a little too attached to you.. You’re just… Dangerously gorgeous, it’s hard to keep himself off of you when he tries.

“Navia, huh…? Might I ask, where is she now? When is this meeting starting?” He asks, trying to sound curious than possessive— because he knows that it might scare you of. (It doesn’t but this mf doesn’t believe it)

You hum to yourself, trying to figure out as you gaze up at the ceiling just a tiny bit. “… I think it was in 10 minutes or something…” “Then, we must get straight to the skin-care routine. Come on now, I’ll take care of you.” Neuvillette motions for you to turn around, and so you did…

There were further darker intentions Neuvillette wanted to do at that very moment to Navia. Either decapitate her as a public execution, rip her guts and organs out— probably donate her heart to someone else, or… He could tie her up to a chair and cut her fingers off one by one, and feed them to the Hilichurls or Mitachurls… Maybe cut off her limbs and throw them to the oceans, in hopes a shark would appear to eat her.

Yes, he might just do that.

But for now, he takes the moment to appreciate your smooth-like skin, and tries hiding the fact he wanted nothing more but to pluck Arlecchino’s eyes as well. Who knows? He might have to get rid of everyone else, before it’s too late.

Neuvillette my beloved<3

[shakooo]

Hey Shakoo!! 🫶🏼✨

Mel here!! :D I was wondering if you perhaps have any tips on backgrounds?? I gotta do backgrounds for something important coming' up in my blog then realized... "Oh crap. I don't know how to draw backgrounds!! 😀"

Thank youuuuu!! <3

HIIII‼️ Moony, sorry for barely answering, but when i read your question iknew i had to answer it as detailed as possible jdksjsk soo well here it is, i made some notes!! i hope they help youu and if you can't read something because of my bad handwriting just tell me

i also apologize if there are errors in the writing, but as you know, english is not my first language TwTT

-

--

---

a somewhat strange tip that i can give you too is to notice how things work around you as well as the environment, like one thing that i usualy do very often is take photos of landscapes, since for example when i want to paint the sky , i can use them as a reference jsksjsk

----

-----

two things i can mention the first is about being careful with saturating the backgrounds with details((?sometimes it will take you a long time to make them and they won't even be visible in the final drawing😔 and the other thing that i can mention but that is more of a personal taste is that you can leave things in a mess aand what do i mean by that??? well, let the brush strokes be seen, and there be no lineart in the background i feel like that gives a lot of life to a drawing

im still struggling to achieve that because uhhhm sometimes i go over details and saturate my drawings with many things, when i want to go for a simpler path JAJAJAJ since I LOVE how the lines look in the conceptual art or in drawings like that in general jjejej BUT that is up to your personal decision of!!

------

AND FINALLY

i also have a couple of speedpaints here that maybe can help youuuu

and that's all (i think) maybe i didn't know how to explain it well or something like that but i tried jsjsks and i hope that as i already said this helps you Moonyy!!!! btw i've seen your blog AND IT'S GOING EXCELLENT, so i want to see how everything will develop >:3

[whereireid]

low key based on your latest quaritch fic, but i want quaritch to just make love to me on the beach!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ —𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— warnings: soft!miles, nsfw content: , p in v, lovemaking, (nicknames - bunny + daddy)

summary: quartich makes love to you on the beach.

“Bunny, quit movin’ around. You’re gonna get sand everywhere.”

Despite Quaritch’s scolding tone, you giggle, your nose brushing against his as he flips your skirt up, his fingers softly massaging your thighs. The beach is abandoned, rid of any life, and when Quaritch had told you he had something planned, you hadn’t assumed this.

Your boyfriend isn’t exactly the romantic type - he’s known for being a scowling asshole, whose tail is always possessively wrapped around your leg, with his arms crossed irritably over his chest. Quaritch is quite literally known for being just short of evil, so when he’d surprised you with a date, which included watching the sunset on Pandora with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, you were more than happy to accept his invitation.

The flowers are tossed to the side now, though, barely visible under the rising moonlight of Pandora. You’re too focused on Quaritch to even care because his lips are peppering soft kisses against your face, his hands gently pushing your underwear to the side, his cock brushing teasingly against your folds.

“Goddamn, bun, this pretty little pussy is always nice and wet for it’s daddy. You been wanting this, baby?” Quaritch asks softly, grinning as he softly begins to thrust his hips, his cock gliding in and out of your cunt delicately.

“More than anything,” you whine softly, your legs wrapping around Quaritch, who watches you with soft admiration, his balls slapping softly against your cunt. “Been so long, daddy.”

His tail thrashes at your words, and your fingers claw softly at his biceps as he thrusts his hips deliberately slow, basking in the way your velvet walls clench down on him when his tip brushes against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt. Everything about Quaritch feels good, from his breath - which shudders slightly when your pussy involuntarily squelches from your slick - to his tail, which curls around your ankle lovingly.

“Been too long, bunny,” he finally says, his voice wavering, his strokes long and soft, watching as your nose crinkles cutely, your fingernails digging into his arms, barely making a dent in his skin. “Feels so good. So perfect for me, baby bun, you know that?”

Quaritch’s fingers graze against your face, his lips pressing softly against yours, his frame moulding against yours perfectly. His kiss sends tingles shooting down your spine, and you moan, the feeling of him being so close to you driving you crazy. Your cunt clenches down on him, your stomach pooling with warmth, arousal licking at every cell in your body, and you feel it.

Your coil breaks. You whine under Quaritch, your body trembling against his, your slick painting his thighs, and he groans into your mouth, his hips stilling inside of you, his cock spewing thick, white ropes of cum inside of you.

It’s so intimate. Quaritch’s lips press softly against yours, and his big hands palm your cheeks, his fingers gently grazing against your jaw. “You’re so pretty, bun,” he murmurs, his ears flittering on his head as you smile up at him. “My perfect girl.”

“When did you get so romantic, daddy?” you ask, your legs still gently shaking as you rub your nose against his, his fangs glistening as he grins down at you. “Flowers and dinner and then this?”

“Just missed you, bunny, ‘s all.”

There’s little light on the beach, now - you can only just see Quaritch’s face in the moonlight, his eyes filled with awe and adoration, his body curling up against yours. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you bask in the feeling of his warmth and his heartbeat, your fingers curling around the steam of your flowers.

It feels so good to be loved.

[goaways-stuff]

Reader edge Steven a lot and denial his orgasm. hehehe

Thanks for the request, anon! So sorry this took soong to get to!

Feels Better That Way

pairing: Steven Grant x gn! reader (brief mentions of Marc and Jake)

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, p in "v" (no mentions of a vagina, just a hole lmao), unprotected sex, spit as lube, no pronouns used for reader

rating: M (18+)

summary: Steven has a hard day at work, so the reader finds a way to make him feel better

word count: ~1.2k

The front door slammed with more force than usual, causing you to jump from instinct. Of course, you immediately relaxed once you saw your beloved Steven sighing and throwing his jacket off. Your heart sank a little though, seeing his worn-out features: tired eyes, sagged shoulders, a solemn face. He looked as though he got hit by the same bus that he rode to and from work. You waited a second before confronting him.

"What happened, darling? Rough day at work?" You inquired, walking to him and offering a hug.

Steven flew into your arms, holding you close and breathing you in. Even just that relaxed him a bit. "Oh, don't even get me started, love. Donna was worse than normal, and then there was this majorly entitled lady who kept demanding discounts on everything, and Marc and Jake kept going on about some mission for Khonshu; it was just awful."

You squeezed him tighter, giving him the reassurance he needed from the day. "Let me take care of you, Steven. Please?"

"Are you sure, darling? You don't have to-"

"Yes, I'm so sure. Let me make you feel better, yeah?"

"Yeah, yes- alrighty then," He said breathily as you started kissing his neck gently.

You led him over to the bed, laying him down on his back.

"Do you trust me, Steven?" You inquired as you straddled him.

"Of course, love- with my life," He said, relaxing into this position.

"Just tell me if it gets too much, yeah? What's the safeword?"

"Pyramid."

"Good boy," you said, grinding your hips down into his. You leaned down to pepper him with kisses, gaining a smile from him.

You coaxed him up a bit in order to lift his shirt off, exposing his bare chest. You moved your kisses to his neck, making your way down to his collarbone. You left your marks, claiming him. Not that you had any need to; he would rather die before he left you.

He whined as you rubbed your hand over his chest, lightly brushing over his nipple. Steven and his sensitive nipples. You brought your mouth to one, testing the waters. You gave it a gentle kiss, causing Steven to let out a soft moan. His hand came to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You continued your assault on his nipples, licking them until he was turning to putty beneath you.

He praised you and your mouth as he jerked his hips up into yours, desperate for more friction. A wet spot had formed on his pants from precum, and a visible outline of his cock had formed. Poor boy.

You moved down until you had settled between his legs. Your hands ran down his thick thighs, enjoying his neediness. You took your sweet time unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants down before rubbing your hand over his prominent bulge in his undies.

You gave it a soft kiss before sliding his briefs down as well.

"Please, darling- I need you." Steven begged. His hand found its place in your hair, massaging your scalp in encouragement.

You took in the sight before you. Steven's eyebrows furrowed with his mouth slightly open and eyes begging for you; the sweat that had started to build on his chest and his happy trail leading to his leaking cock.

You took his thick cock in your hand, smearing the precum as you jerked him. The moans that left him were heavenly. He was the loudest of the three, and boy, did you love it. He whines and whimpers and calls your name as you bring him to the edge with your hand.

"Oh fuck, love, I'm so close," He breathed out. You gave him a few more strokes before stopping, causing a loud whine to emit from him.

"What? I- I was so close."

"You cum when I say, Steven."

He whined in protest, but he didn't say no. He loved it when you edged him. He knew how good it would feel when he was finally allowed to cum, but he was so close just then.

You started your movements again but slower. You brought him to your mouth and gave the most gentle kiss to his tip. His hand gripped tighter in your hair as you focused solely on his tip with your mouth. You circled and sucked and licked, making sure to make it nice and sloppy. You brought him right to the edge again before letting go once more. He protested by bucking his hips up, chasing your mouth.

His chest heaved as he tried to come down from his near orgasm. You traced circles on his thigh and left soft kisses on his tummy to help.

"Okay, you can start again, darling," He said.

You took no hesitation as you worked to take his entirety in your mouth. You breathed through your nose and your throat contracted around his cock.

"Oh- fuck- darling, that's so good. You're so good to me- please don't stop," He praised. You moved your mouth up and down, using your spit as lube as you sucked him until he was all but screaming. He tried so hard not to buck his hips into you, but the more you went, the harder it was. His breathing was ragged, and his praises trailed off into incoherent mumblings. His cock began twitching in your mouth before you pulled off with a pop. He swore he could cry.

"You're doing so good baby, so good for me," you said as you climbed up on his lap. "You wanna be inside me?"

He nodded before you even finished your sentence. "Please, Y/N, I need to feel you. I need you please," He said.

You kissed him with great feverishness as you let him slip inside you, your spit acting as lube. You clenched hard around him, causing him to buck his hips. You moaned in tandem as you ground your hips down into his. His hands moved to your hips, squeezing as though he was trying to mold you. Even with his hand on your waist, he let you set the pace. You started slow, just to tease him a little bit longer before you picked up the pace. He began meeting your thrusts as he got closer and closer to his release. The begging and praising started up once more. You felt yourself building up as well, but you knew if you didn't say anything, he would reach his before you reached your.

"Hold it, Steven. Don't cum until I say," You warned.

He nodded his head as he gripped your ass, pulling you as close as humanly possible. You were getting closer, just a little bit more and-

"Steven, cum with me. Cum inside me Steven. Please, baby, need it-please," you begged as you hit your climax. You seized as Steven continued thrusting, spilling his release deep inside you.

You rolled off, and you both whined and the loss of contact. Your chest heaved as you came down from your high, slowly floating back down.

"How do you feel, Steven?"

"Much better, love. But I am hungry now. What do you want for dinner?"

"Is take-out okay?

"That's perfect, love," Steven said, kissing you and pulling you into his arms, nuzzling your neck. You gave a hum of contentment. Take-out could wait a few minutes.

[mimisempai]

Equivalent Exchange

Summary

Crowley loves the human invention of the shower for the comfort it brings him, but what he loves even more is Aziraphale's hands in his hair as he dries it.

Notes

Another short and sweet fluffy thing

On Ao3

Rating G -  1100 words

Crowley grunted in satisfaction as he turned off the faucet. One of the things he found superior to everything else about humans was the shower. He didn't really need one, but the ability it had to relax him and make him feel good afterwards was incredible.

The demon got out of the shower, dried off, put on a pair of pajamas, and after briefly drying his hair with a towel just enough to keep it from dripping, he grabbed the hairbrush and headed for the bedroom where he knew he'd find Aziraphale. He smiled when he saw the angel sitting against the headboard, obviously engrossed in a book.

However, despite his evident concentration, as soon as Crowley entered the room, Aziraphale closed his book and placed it on the nightstand. 

The angel watched him approach and smiled as the demon asked, pointing his chin at the book, "Have you finished it?" 

Aziraphale shook his head, "No, but it's not like I never read it."

With that, the angel spread his legs and tapped the space in front of him, motioning for the demon to sit down.

Crowley approached, handed him the hairbrush, and planted a light kiss on the angel's lips before climbing onto the bed.

Then he moved into the space created by the angel's open legs, crossed his legs beneath him, and leaned his back against the angel's chest. 

He curled his right hand around Aziraphale's leg and gently stroked it up to his knee, marveling at how familiar this kind of gesture had become. 

As much as he loved to pamper the angel, he also appreciated it when Aziraphale did it for him, and this little ritual had been going on for some time. After denying themselves for so long, both the angel and the demon enjoyed being touched as much as they enjoyed touching, so this special moment satisfied both of them perfectly.

Aziraphale leaned over and asked him gently, placing his hands on his shoulders, "Do you want me to finish drying your hair first?"

Crowley, who had not been drying his hair for that purpose, simply nodded. The angel, not fooled at all, laughed softly in response and pressed a light kiss to the damp hair before gently pushing the demon forward. 

He then grabbed the towel from Crowley's shoulder and laid it on the demon's head to gently dry the red hair, starting with the longest strands at the top of the head, then slowly working his way down to the nape of the neck where he gently rubbed the towel over the shortest strands.

Aziraphale broke the silence and said quietly, "You know, I'm proud of you."

Crowley, more than a little surprised at this sudden praise, asked him confusedly, "For what?"

"Today, I arrived a little early to wait for you at the exit of your planetarium session, and I got to see how well you managed to captivate your audience. There wasn't a single person who wasn't hanging on your every word. You're excellent at what you do, the way you share your knowledge, my dear."

Crowley turned his head toward Aziraphale with that expression the angel knew so well. The expression he wanted to erase. The one that was the same when the demon was told he was a kind person.

Crowley, visibly moved, said nothing, just kissed Aziraphale's hand that rested on his shoulder before turning his head forward again.

They remained in silence for a few seconds while Aziraphale gave Crowley time to collect himself and placed the towel beside him.

Then the angel ran his fingers through Crowley's hair, gently massaging the back of his head, and the demon leaned his head back, resting in Aziraphale's hands and humming with pleasure.

The angel then slowly combed Crowley's hair with just his fingers, gently untying the few knots in the longer hair. Then he grabbed the brush and began to slowly run it through the red hair, starting with the ends of the strands, then making wider but no less delicate strokes from the top of the head to the ends of the longer strands. 

There was a kind of precious bond between Crowley and Aziraphale in these simple touches. They didn't speak, the silence of those moments almost religious, like the echo of a sacred moment, bringing them into communion far more than words could have done.

When he was finished, Aziraphale set the brush down beside him.

Crowley slowly straightened up, turned and sat facing Aziraphale, his legs over the angel's, then wrapped his arms around his neck. He pressed his lips gently against Aziraphale's as the angel in turn wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, returning the kiss with the same softness.

The demon nibbled gently on the lower lip of Aziraphale, who responded by opening his mouth to invite him in. The kiss deepened as Crowley pressed the angel a little closer.

Aziraphale's arms held him tightly but gently, while his hands ran gently up his back under the demon's pajama top.

The kiss lingered until they both pulled away to catch their breath, neither releasing the embrace of their arms.

Aziraphale smiled, eyes misty and cheeks flushed from the kiss they'd just shared. Crowley couldn't resist and slid his hand from the angel's neck to his face, delicately tracing the outline with his fingertips before running his thumb across the swollen lips.

Then he murmured in a breathy voice, " Gorgeous."

Aziraphale replied with a soft chuckle, "Look who's talking.... "

But the demon didn't let the deflection pass, and looking straight into Aziraphale's eyes, he repeated, "Gorgeous, I'll keep telling you until you believe me, my angel."

He shook his head a little before continuing, "How can you see beauty in others and not in yourself? "

Aziraphale shrugged and replied in a slightly bitter tone, "Force of habit, I suppose..."

Crowley pressed a kiss to his forehead and said with a mischievous smile, "Then it's a good thing you're paired with a demon who likes to shake things up. You're gorgeous, Angel."

"I love you." 

Aziraphale had just said that without transition, as if he couldn't help himself, as if the confession was pouring out of his mouth without him being able to hold it back.

Slightly surprised, as he was every time the angel said those words, the demon didn't wait more than a split second before he answered softly, "I love you too, Angel."

Then he pressed his lips to Aziraphale's in another agonizingly loving kiss.

Because it was them.

This constant equivalent exchange.

Giving and receiving.

Loving and being loved.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[hotreadingwitch]

MADE TO LIE - the date

Y/N 

As Bucky pulled up to the restaurant she took in the building, regarding its fancy modern exterior and signage. The place was called EXQUIS and according to Tony’s notes, it was a popular French cuisine spot in New York that the Cranes were typically seen dining at. Their hope was that tonight they’d be there to see Bucky and Y/n on their date, convincing them even more that they were in love. 

“Alright,” Bucky said quietly, placing a gentle hand on Y/n’s exposed thigh, “I know you’re gonna probably hate this Y/n but tonight we’ve got no choice. We have one job and it’s to convince the Cranes that we’re 100% together” 

“I know Bucky” she sighed, resigned before gathering her courage, offering him a small smile, “Don’t worry, we’ve got this”

Bucky parked the car and got out before running to the other side and opening Y/n’s car door for her, grabbing her hand to help her up. 

They strolled up to the doors of the restaurant, Bucky holding it open for her, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back. Her back arched slightly at the feeling, her body’s way of remembering the last time his hands were really on her. 

“Wow” she cooed, referring to him opening the door, “What a gentleman” 

The game was on. 

“Least I could do doll” he smirked before planting a kiss on her hand, without breaking eye contact. 

Very much on.

Y/n’s eyes widened at the contact. She quickly shook off her visible surprise, smiling at Bucky as lovingly as she could, hoping no one had seen her moment of hesitation.

“On your left” Y/n heard Sam’s voice crackle through their earpieces, notifying them of the Cranes’ position. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n spotted the twins sitting at a table in a dark corner of the restaurant just as Sam had said. Bucky pushed Y/n forward where they were greeted by a cheery waitress. 

“Welcome to EXQUIS” she smiled, “Table for two?”

“We have a reservation under James Buchanan Barnes” Bucky replied, his voice low. 

“Right this way” the waitress replied, as if she’d done this a hundred times before, which Y/n was sure she must have. 

The pair followed her to a table in the centre of the restaurant, directly under the massive, modernized chandelier. Y/n looked up as they walked, her gaze focused on the beautiful fixture while Bucky’s gaze, though she didn’t notice it, was on her and only her. 

“Sit down doll,” Bucky said as they reached their table, pulling Y/n out of her fancy architecture-induced daze. 

“Oh right,” she chuckled, refocusing on their mission. 

“Okay, you two” Tony’s voice sounded through the earpiece, “Remember we are here for you watching through the hidden cameras” 

“Try not to look awkward” Steve’s voice added. 

“Yea” Natasha chimed in, “That’ll just make it obvious” 

Was everybody watching them? Y/n thought to herself self-consciously. There really was no room for error. 

“Ignore them” Tony stated in that easy-going manner of his, “Tonight is not about fighting, or anything that we typically do, it’s just about reminding them that you’re together now” 

“As if they could forget” Sam snickered.

“Hold my hand” Bucky’s brushed hers, the feeling of his light touch making her skin tingle with memory, “They’re watching” 

“Mm hm” She cleared her throat before plastering on her most loving smile and intertwining her hand with his. They fit together well, like murder and mayhem. Though Bucky was warm to the touch Y/n noticed his skin was also rough. She turned his palm and began to play with the inside of his hand, stroking both the rougher parts and the softer parts, her gentle fingers running over the callouses he had from years of violence. 

“Ooh it’s getting romantic” Wanda giggled. 

Y/n blushed but continued anyway, drawing small shapes in the centre of Bucky’s palm. When she looked up his gaze was fixed on her, like he couldn’t look away. Y/n felt like his eyes were seeing into the depths of her, seeing everything she wanted to hide but somehow couldn’t, at least not from him. 

She broke the eye contact, breaking into a loud laugh, “Don’t be so serious baby, you’ll get wrinkles”

She heard laughter over the earpiece. 

“I’m 98 Y/n” he chuckled back, “I think I would have gotten them by now” 

She beamed at him and he stared back in a way that made her unsure whether each small moment of affection that passed between them was fake or not. Luckily, the waitress reappeared, interrupting the moment in order to ask what they’d like to drink. Y/n looked at Bucky, expecting him to order, to which he simply shot back a “ladies first” before leaning back in his seat. 

“Oh um, I’ll have a glass of your best Chablis” Y/n smiled up at the waitress, her accent coming through with the name of the French wine. 

“Make that the bottle” Bucky added, causing Y/n to raise her eyebrows, “And a Manhattan for me s’il vous plaît”

“You didn’t tell me you spoke French” 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Y/n and yet somehow you know more than most” 

His admission hit her right in the chest. Bucky was not like her, he wasn’t naturally honest or open or even sometimes kind but the more time she spent with him the more she was beginning to realize how hard he was trying to be good for her. 

“Damn,” Sam’s voice came softly through the intercom.

It took all of Y/n’s strength to not tell him to shut up and stop ruining the moment right then and there but one wrong move, one hint that they were on a mission and not a real date and the Cranes would bolt. Luckily, their drinks soon arrived and, though it felt like it went on forever, the rest of the evening went off without a hitch. By the time they were leaving, having both made their point and eaten a delicious 4-course meal, it was pouring rain. 

Bucky let go of her hand as they exited the restaurant, stepping into the deluge to get the car. She stepped forward, throwing her arms out to the sides, letting the rain wash over her. The day had been a lot, she valued honesty more than anything but still confessing always took its toll. Bucky turned, practically doing a double-take when he saw her grinning like an idiot. 

“Are you crazy?” He laughed breathily, “You’re gonna catch a cold” 

But he didn’t stop her, no, instead, Bucky came right up in front of her, cupping the sides of her face with his large hands. Her arms dropped to her sides as she focused on his intense gaze, her heart beating wildly in her chest. 

“They could be watching you know,” she breathed, her voice a low whisper. 

“Yeah, right,” he said gruffly, his voice thick, “They could be” 

And with that, he kissed her. It was an all-consuming kiss, one full of hunger and pure need. The rain fell down over them as they grasped each other tightly, exposing everything that both of them felt and even when their lips broke apart, still, they lingered. It wasn’t fake and they both knew it though neither of them dared to say anything even when they were finally in the heated sanctuary of the car on their way back to the hotel. 

requested account tags: cjand10 identity2212 bucky-jbb-sunshine unaxv hnnhbananananana literaryavenger