#i will pull the blankets over him snugly and turn the lights off for my child

[fatuismooches]

Hello Smooches!!

Before I tell you my ask. Yes, it is me. The same anon (simp) that made the Dottore speaking Latin hc (believe it or not, I don't really care)

And OH MY GOD.

THE AMOUNT OF ATTENTION I GOT IS INSANE, STOP IT YOU GUYS ARE MAKING ME FLUSTERED💘

THE SEGMENTS ALSO KNOWING LATIN, READER LEARNING A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE JUST TO MAKE DOTTORE MAD. THE POEMS????!!??.... IT'S TOO MUCH❤️❤️❤️

Going off of that one post where it talked about the reader teaching Dottore's child clone about the language he doesn't know.

I can just imagine Dottore watching the reader in the corner of his eye as they hold the child segment in their arms. And he doesn't know what they're saying, but he does know damn well that it's something highly affectionate with how the child segments face is brightening up by the minute. BUT HOW CAN YOU NOT BE SWEET TO HIMMMM, SUCH A CUTIE🥺❤️❤️❤️

With all love (and thank you again for the attention on my post! I didn't expect all the inspiration and positivity I would get😭<3)

Yin anon-

YIN ANON THE ONE WHO CHANGED ME AND MY DOTTORE LOVERS FOR LIFE.... ILY!! WE ALL LOVE UR HC SO MUCH OMG ❤️

EHEHE YES I ALWAYS HAVE TO INCLUDE BABY ZANDY IN MY POSTS 🫶🫶 Literally he is such a cutie patootie I can't fathom being mean to the bb if he cries i cry😭 UGH YES the little boy would be sitting on your lap while you converse with him in that annoying strange language of yours (Dottore would actually probably admire your intelligence but rn he's too caught up with how you didn't share it with him 😒) And then you and Zandy would be giggling and smiling at Archon knows what while completely ignoring Dottore's razor-sharp glare 😅 he just wants in on the secrets too! Zandy probably makes fun of him and the other clones in the secret language too, it's his payback for them treating him too much like a kid 😌

Thank YOU for sharing your thoughts, i love to hear them 🥰

[stararch4ngelqueen]

just need soft sex with jason

May have gotten a little carried away but ✨🔨🫠

—

Time written - 12:23 p.m

“I think I can walk just fine, Jason.”

Jason’s tone in response is lighthearted, playful even.

“It’s romantic, don’t you think? Carrying your girl to bed—” he pauses and chuckles at your expression, catching view of that eye roll while sipping your drink.

“We’d be like that painting of the angel holding a bride,” he suggests with a wide smile. “C’mon, not the first time I’ve done it.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle, tilting your head back in exaggeration. “Wow, look at you trying to be all cute and chivalrous.”

“Hey, let’s not downplay it. I thought I was being the most romantic guy ever,” he pouts, his expression turning faux-offended.

“I guess not,” he shrugs. “If you can’t appreciate that.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, acting as if he really is hurt. Then, without warning, he turns around to face you, broad hands clutching hold of you by the waist.

He hoists you up over his shoulder without hesitation, smirking from your sudden surprised yelps. He leaves your abandoned tea mugs behind, neglecting the lightswitch as he carries you down the hallway.

“I can walk Jase—!” Your amused beginning cuts off with an abrupt gasp when a firm palm smacks down on your ass, your shirt riding up over your curves.

“Can’t walk if your feet aren’t on the ground.”

“Jason!” Your annoyed tone didn’t last more than half a second before a smile breaks over your face. Chivalry was never dead with a man like him.

Your joyous fit of giggles merely died down after he gently sets you into bed, your head settling along your minor pile of unnecessarily comfortable pillows. Jason joins you without a second thought, his broad body comfortably caging you in. Any light from the hallway shadowed out once he floods your vision, enveloping you in a blanket of safety.

Then, without word, he presses his lips against yours, gently nudging your legs apart to snugly settle in between them. His breathing grows slightly rough, his braced hands grip tightly to the sheets as he feels your delicate little fingers find purchase along his back.

One of your hands trails up and down along his spine, causing the hair on his neck to flare up. He can already feel himself getting worked up, the hunger within him getting a little harder to control.

Jason spares a hand to roam along your minimally clothed body, running his palm along the soft skin of your hips and thighs.

A soft, little hum leaves your plump lips, his hand grasping along your soft, moisturized hip. The ache that bloomed in his gut desired more of those sweet noises, biting down on your tongue before rocking his hips forward.

You might’ve been just as eager as he was, your damp panties leaving a little impact against his navy sweatpants. The paired friction makes his waistband tug down, exposing the taunt v-line visible by lack of boxers.

“Jason,” you whimper out his name in the midst of him proceeding to litter your neck with kisses. He knows what you’re going to ask, he’s well aware of it. All he wanted was the green light to do it, one word to allow him this privilege.

“Yeah baby?” He murmurs against your skin, anxiously awaiting permission.

“Please.”

Such a gorgeously spoken sound, accompanied with a pretty bloom on those supple cheeks.

Jason groans as his body shivers. As much as he wants to control himself from going too fast, he wraps his arms around your legs, hoisting them up around his waist as he gives in.

With resuming where he left off, body hands running further up your body. You wore no bra to sleep, per his advantage. Pulling off the very shirt you borrowed from him to sleep in, he’s pleased with the sight of your breasts gently bouncing after momentarily sitting up.

“Oh my God,” Jason utters out in the midst of a groan, his calloused palms cradling both your sweet, glistening tits. “Mmm. Fuck, babe.”

You smelled incredibly good, like sweet honey cake dipped in melted frosting, sprinkled with toasted sugar. He’d fall asleep with his nose buried into your neck nearly every night, blessed with such a comforting fragrance off your warm body every morning.

You stuck to his memory as well as his clothes, every part of you tasting as sweet as your scent. The falsified rumors of the late Queen of France’s words held the most truth when Jason thought of eating you.

“Smell good?” You teasingly hum, biting your lip from his thumbs circling both your nipples, imagining your tiny hands in comparison to his rub luscious body butter along your chest every night after your shower.

“Smells fucking amazing.” He grunts, gently pinching both your nipples in between his fingers. Whatever smart remark you’re about to make dies in the back of your throat as Jason leans down, teasing your nipple in between his teeth. You suck in a deep breath, tangling your fingers into his messy black hair.

He’d help you take another quick shower after this, for now, all he needed was you.

Four fingers hook along your thin panties while assaulting your other nipple, your hips raising to comply with him pulling them off and down your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” Jason lowly groans from such a pretty sight greeting him from in between your legs, teal eyes heavy lidded with overpowering lust.

Jason shifts himself closer, raising your hips off the bed to rest further up along his lap. Both thumbs caress the smooth skin of your inner thighs before tracing around your puffy lips, one thumb nudging your clit before inserting two fingers into your pussy, pumping them at a slow pace.

Jason utters plenty of dirty, feverish promises as he pumps his fingers in and out at a quickening pace, his thumb moving in fast circles around your throbbing clit. He can’t wait to feel your rosy walls squeeze around him, muttering in between a handsome chuckle that your pussy is crying for it, gushing around his fingers so quickly.

Purplish plum colored hickies coat your inner shoulder as he draws a slow, modest orgasm from you, hooking his fingers with every buck of your hips, making you quiver and squeal.

Prayers composed of his name alone continuously leave your tongue, your pussy drooling as he removes his fingers, strings of arousal connecting between both digits. Chest heaving while Jason sets you back down, glazed over eyes watch his free hand tug down his constricting pants, pulling himself free from his confines.

He strokes himself with his wet fingers, further coating the tip of his fat, leaking cock with additional lubricant. He always knew you needed prep; not only wanted to, but needed to. He wasn’t being cocky (too cocky anyway) about his size, he was incredibly blunt about it when it came to the first time you had sex.

Even more so when he had been your first.

He never wanted you to hurt, even when the itch of impatience nagged at his brain to fuck you here and now.

His hand cradled the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your shower damp hair. To further stoke those flames, he parts your flushed lips with still damp fingers before shoving them in, tasting of salty precum and yourself as you run your tongue along them.

“Ohh, fucking dirty girl.” Jason mutters while watching, catching the crook in your lips form while sucking on his fingers. He takes your lips after retreating them, sucking on your tongue while lightly fucking himself with his hand, slicking up a majority of his length.

He guides himself closer, fighting back a grunt as the thick, heavy length of his cock rests across your slippery opening, sticky and sweet with arousal.

The both of you moan as he pushes inside, your walls stretching tightly around his girthy head. A low groan of satisfaction erupts from his chest while he sheaths himself in your warmth, his breath coming out hot and embarrassingly shallow through his nose.

“Fuck,” Jason mumbles before stifling a sharp whimper, fingers tightening on your hips in a death grip. “Shit, Princess. so goddamn tight.”

The heels of your feet digging into the back of his thighs, your nails drawing crescents into his skin. You want him as deep as he can possibly get, until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. The stretch is deliciously potent, a reminder that no matter how many times you do this, you’ll never fully get used to him. Neither of you would have it any other way.

He moves quite slow, rocking his hips in a speed that carries no pick up or roughness as he absolutely loses himself inside you. His lips roam all over your face, kissing away winces and mumbling soft apologies to your whimpers while you adjust.

Regardless of the pace, being stuffed full of his cock garnered pleasurable tears spewing from your eyes.

Your nails drag against his biceps, leaving raised lines along his muscles. He quietly pleads for you to dig deeper, desiring for his blood underneath your nails, wanting your marks to affect him for as long as possible.

The stinging pain has the desired effect on Jason, who spews out a sharp kiss as he thrusts into you hard once. The bed squeaks, the mattress buckling in the frame as it thuds against the wall.

A little cry leaves your mouth, your hips hitching up until your walls swallow him whole. Skin directly flush against skin, him buried so deep, kissing your cervix directly, his blunt head throbbing all against your sweet spots.

“Shhh,” Jason exhales against your cheek, both hands cradling your cheeks with eyes full of guilt from his impatient mistake.

“Shh, babe. M’sorry.” He reassuringly whispers along your lips, massaging soothing circles along your sides. “You’re alright, you’re okay. There’s my girl, my pretty girl .. takin’ me in so damn good.”

The gentle rock of his hips after a moment of rest isn’t subtle, much softer than either of you have had yet, but hot. So genuinely hot that the pure compassion between two star struck lovers almost makes up for the lack of speed. Two, aroused bodies taking in on such erotic pleasure as they made love for the first time all over again.

Jason catches your lips in a messy kiss as he plunges into you again and again, skin softly patting against damp skin.

Your lips travel along his sharp jaw, looking for the one spot by his ear that almost always makes him unravel each time. He tenses as you find it, cursing richly in your ear before grasping you closer.

“G-God fucking damn, Princess, you’re killing me,” he grunts out, growing a little louder before his voice cracks, gifting you a symphony of eagerly impatient whimpers whilst fisting handfuls of bedsheets, finally rutting into you just a little faster.

You can tell from the sloppiness that he’s close, and you’re not far behind.

You know every one of his weaknesses. Hell, you were at the top of that list, and it scared the shit out of him. Now, it makes him feel secure. And it’s in that security that he gives you everything.

His hips stutter as he fills you with thick, heavy ropes of cum, forcefully buried deeply with each staggered, drawn out thrusts. A cracked whisper of your name is all the warning he gives before flying over the edge, dragging you down with him shortly after.

You didn’t care if he finished first, all that mattered was the stark beauty of him that displayed across his face while he did it. Furrowed brows, eyes screwed shut in euphoria.

“I love you,” he chokes out, grunting heavily in your ear while hugging you against him for dear life, muscular arms slipping under your arched back, his pelvis rocking deliciously against your sensitive clit. “I love you I love you, I fucking love you—“

“I love you too,” you whimper out during a shudder, overstimulation creaking up and down your spine. You have him in a death grip, legs tangled tight around his waist, arms still tightly secure around his shoulders.

Your most favorite expression on him was the relief that followed after the euphoric tension diminished. Facial muscles melting as every inch of stress vanishes from his body, coupled with the satisfaction of doing so with the woman he so dearly loved.

His most favorite expression on you was the beautiful glimmer in your eyes after opening his. Gorgeous irises full of crystalline tears, tinted pink with satisfaction and awe of doing so with the man you so dearly loved.

[thisisawonderfulusername]

it's just us now

crowley x demon!reader x aziraphale

requested by: @cool-iguana

summary: after aziraphale leaves, you and crowley must move on.

warnings: sad :( but also comfort

a/n: i had to jump between writing this and a different fic because this was making me sad and the other was basically me kicking my feet while i giggled. that will be out soon:) for now, enjoy

you stood beside crowley's bentley, staring in silence across the street. crowley stood on the other side of the car, also unable to utter a word.

aziraphale entered the elevator that would bring him back to heaven, and you couldn't do anything but stare. your eyes had been glossed over, as if a painter had brushed on their protective coating on a finished painting. 

the car felt as if it was your grounding object. it was the only physical thing letting you know that you're here- that crowley is here. he's not leaving you too. you'll still have crowley.

part of you was hoping that your angel would change his mind. that as he took a short glance at the two of you that he would come back to you, back to his bookshop.

that you could all be together on earth, on your own side.

but his words repeat in your head, like a broken record.

"nothing lasts forever."

after the doors close, you clear your throat, forcing yourself to keep from crying. 

"well, i suppose it's just us now." you say softly, opening the passenger door and falling into your seat. 

as crowley gets into his own seat, he remains quiet for a moment. when he starts the engine, the radio began to play a nightingale sang in berkeley square.

as he swiftly turns it off, you sniffle. "we should've known being with an angel wouldn't work."

your voice is quiet, but in the silence of the car it seems so loud. 

crowley nods somberly, placing his hand over yours.

"we should've known."

the ride home was spent in silence, the only noise was the humming of the engine.

-

after a while without the angel that completed your relationship, you and crowley were able to move on.

to leave old memories behind, you managed to find a new apartment. you filled it with plants that thrived- whether it be through their fear of crowley or your green thumb. you even opened a plant nursery for something to do.

some nights, the pain would return.

you would wake from a dream of your angel, sharing a dinner or all of you cuddling on the couch with a cup of tea.

tears would be falling from your eyes when they opened, and at the smallest sound of a sniffle, crowley was awake. 

he was there to pull you into his arms and offer to make you a cup of tea in a whisper.

"i just need you," you'd tell him.

that was all he needed to hold you tight and wrap the blanket snugly around the two of you, his thumb carefully rubbing shapes into your skin to lull you to sleep.

on the rarer occasion, you would wake up to find him missing from the bed, a sliver of light filtering in through the bottom of your door.

you would carefully get out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and leaving the room to find him sitting on the couch, staring off into nothing in silence.

you would make a cup of tea before sitting down with him, sharing the blanket and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"are you okay?"

"i will be."

you'd nod, wrapping your arms around his waist and dozing off until you wake up in the morning, back in bed with crowley cuddled close. 

eventually, you'll be okay.

the remaining pain will fade away and your life will continue without aziraphale. 

taglists

good omens: none yet

crowley: none yet

aziraphale: none yet

[undersero]

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x GN!Reader

Contains: idiots in love, unclear relationship label, lots of cute stuff, sleepy Zoro.

Word count: 731

Author’s note: Hope this gives you the fuzzy cutesy feelies. Banner by @/cafekitsune

Exhaustion and unease settles heavily onto Zoro’s bones and his body sags with the weight of it all. Discomfort burrows so feely into his chest as he tries yet again to get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.

Tonight, sleep escapes him.

With a frustrated huff, he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the hammock. His feet carry him toward the door, up the stairs, and onto the deck where his hair is rustled by a salty breeze. It’s cool here, and quiet, and easier to breathe than it was inside.

Zoro paces to the railing where he leans forward, resting his weight on his forearms. The sea beneath the Going Merry flashes from inky black to vibrant cerulean as it reflects the moon’s light. Waves rhythmically and gently slap against the side of the ship.

Of all the times, Zoro thinks, why can’t he sleep now? Things are quiet and calm. The temperature couldn’t be more perfect and his body couldn’t be more exhausted and in need of precious rest. Annoyance builds in his chest, bubbling up and bloating out with the presence of the discomfort already lodged there.

Under the moon and the stars, Zoro realizes with a jolt that he feels creaky, old, as his body feels soreness and tension from his waking activities. There’s a knot between his shoulder blades that feels big enough to wear Luffy’s straw hat. His elbows ache and his hips feel misaligned.

Zoro closes his eyes against the breeze and sighs as he holds the position long after the breeze dies. The mast calms moments later, and then- his eyes snap open.

One thing is more appealing than sleep. Just one. Without further thought, Zoro turns on his heel to get what he needs.

You’re precisely where he knew you’d be. The blanket snugly wraps around your body and your breathing is slow and even. He’s silent as he closes your door and crosses the room, allowing soft warmth to bloom through his chest and warm his neck and cheeks.

Zoro toes his shoes off before climbing into the bed. The soft mattress sinks with his weight, but he’s quick to adjust himself so it isn’t too drastic. He’s on his side, elbow holding most of his weight as he uses his other hand to gently rub your side. He doesn’t want to wake you, but he doesn’t want to startle you either.

Like you always do, you sigh in your sleep and respond to his touch, just a little. Your hand seeks his as you lean toward the warmth coming from his body.

A smile tugs at his lips, dimpling his cheek. Slowly, he lowers himself onto your body, laying his head on your chest, broad shoulders covering your frame.

“I wondered when you’d come in,” you murmur as your arms close around his shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Zoro says, feeling guilt in the pit of his stomach.

“I know,” you say easily, massaging the knot between his shoulder blades. A relieved groan escapes him. “It’s okay.”

Zoro melts into your touch. Slowly, the discomfort in his torso eases away as he’s pulled deeper into your embrace and closer to sleep.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispers, words slurred in his comfort in a way that almost sounds like purring.

“How?”

“I let my guard down with you.”

His words are matter of fact, even if he’s halfway to dreamland. You absorb them for a moment and don’t speak until the warmth of their meaning has faded from your cheeks.

“I’m not sorry about that,” you tell him, giving him a squeeze. “I like it this way.”

Zoro is so quiet for so long that you think he’s finally fallen asleep.

“I do too,” he mumbles into your shirt.

This is something to protect, whatever this is, whatever kind of relationship you have with Zoro. It’s precious, knowing that Zoro seeks you for comfort and knowing that he can let his guard down in your presence. You see a side of him the world does not; a side that most of the crew doesn’t even get to see.

But you do. You get to see him in the comfort of laying on your chest, having seeked you out on his own.

To be his comfort, you think, may just be more precious than the One Piece.

[lvllylix]

I have request! You love horror movies. Felix not so much. You picked a horror movie and he tried to suck it up but at the end he was a shivering mess. So scared to sleep at night all he wants to do is cling to you and snuggle like no tomorrow. And you hush him to sleep telling him affirmations. :) 😫😫😫🥺🥺

A/N: Thank you so much for the first request!! I really hope you like this ♡♡♡

Cuddled in Courage

Title: Cuddled in Courage

Song: Warm on a Cold Night by HONNE

Pairing: Felix x reader

Word count: 669

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Felix have a movie night, watching a horror film that you love but he finds terrifying.

--

The dimly lit living room was filled with anticipation as you and Felix settled down for a cozy movie night. You had an affinity for horror films, the thrill, and adrenaline rush being something you enjoyed. Felix, on the other hand, was not as fond of the genre, but he was willing to give it a try for your sake.

You had carefully chosen a movie that promised to deliver spine-chilling scares. As the movie began, you couldn't help but get engrossed in the suspense, while Felix shifted uneasily beside you, his grip on the blanket tightening.

With every jump scare, Felix would flinch and bury his face into your shoulder, seeking solace in your presence. You couldn't help but smile, finding his reactions adorable, despite his obvious fear. You wrapped your arm around him, holding him closer, hoping to offer some comfort.

As the movie progressed, Felix's unease escalated, and he clung to you even tighter, his fingers digging into your arm. You could feel the tension radiating from him, his body trembling with every twist and turn on the screen. Concern washed over you, and you decided it was time to alleviate his anxiety.

Leaning close to Felix's ear, you whispered soothingly, "Hey, Felix, it's just a movie. None of it is real. I'm right here with you, and I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe."

Felix turned his head to look at you, his eyes wide with fear. His voice trembled as he spoke, "I know, but it's still so scary. Can we turn it off? Please?"

You nodded understandingly, reaching for the remote to pause the movie. You turned your full attention to Felix, your voice gentle and reassuring. "Of course, Felix. We can turn it off. Let's put on something light-hearted instead, something that will make you smile."

Felix let out a sigh of relief as the screen went dark, the terrifying imagery no longer haunting his thoughts. You scrolled through the movie options, searching for a comedy that would help lift his spirits. Eventually, you settled on a romantic comedy, a genre that never failed to bring a smile to both of your faces.

As the lighthearted film played, Felix slowly began to relax, his grip on you loosening. However, the fear lingered in his eyes, and you knew he would need more than just a movie to put his mind at ease.

Gently guiding Felix to lie down, you nestled beside him, pulling the covers snugly over both of you. You wrapped your arms around him, providing a warm and secure embrace. You peppered light kisses on his forehead, temple, and cheeks, each one meant to convey your love and reassurance.

"Listen, Felix," you whispered softly, your voice soothing as you stroked his hair. "You're incredibly brave, and I'm so proud of you for trying to watch the movie with me. But I want you to know that it's okay to be scared. Everyone has their fears, and it doesn't make you any less amazing. I'm here for you, and I won't let anything harm you. You're safe with me, always."

Felix's shivering gradually subsided, replaced by a sense of tranquility as your words sank in. His breathing

evened out, his body relaxing against yours. You continued to hold him close, providing the comfort he needed, your voice a gentle lullaby.

"You're strong, Felix. You're loved, and you have nothing to fear. With me by your side, every night will be peaceful and filled with warmth. Let go of the scares, my love, and drift off to sleep. I'll be here, watching over you."

As the weight of his fear lifted, Felix's eyes fluttered shut, a small smile gracing his lips. With your comforting words echoing in his mind, he surrendered to sleep, feeling safe and cherished in your arms.

And there, in the quiet embrace of the night, you held Felix close, knowing that love, reassurance, and the power of snuggles were all he needed to conquer his fears.

[sarahscribbles]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝟏𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“What about that one?” You shimmied out of the midnight blue blanket that Loki had draped around you both to point up at the sky. 

The forecast had said that the night would be clear - perfect for stargazing if you were so inclined - and the stars were glittering like tiny jewels against the onyx night. Some shone brighter than others, but together they knitted a twinkling blanket across the sky, making you feel very, very small. 

Loki’s deep laugh rumbled against your back while one strong arm pulled you tighter against his chest. With the other, he reached out to grab your outstretched hand, pulling it backwards to kiss your knuckles before tucking it back into the warmth of the blanket. 

“Your endless curiosity is endearing, my darling,” he murmured, fixing the blanket back around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. You wanted to live in this moment with him. “That one is Cassiopeia. I believe you Midgardians call it the Seated Queen or the W constellation. You can see a section of the Milky Way just there.” He poked an elegant finger through the small gap in the blanket to trace it in the sky.

“You’re such an astronomy nerd,” you teased him as he folded his hand back around your waist. 

He shuffled a little before answering, making sure that the blanket cocooning you both against the December air was snugly tucked around you, leaving no gaps for even a brief breeze to sneak in. “Top of the class in Asgard,” he answered simply, a quiet note of pride creeping into his voice. 

“Is that so?” you answered, squeezing the hand that rested on your stomach. “Cassiopeia’s brightest star?” you then asked, deciding to put him to the test, though your own knowledge of the stars was limited.

“Schedar,” he replied easily, pulling a hand out to poke your side, making you laugh and wriggle in his embrace.

He returned his arm to settle over your stomach and you relaxed back into his embrace. His chest was pressed so tightly to your back that you could feel the steady thump of his heart and could feel the steady rise and fall as he breathed. For a moment it was all you could focus on. After everything - the battles and war and Thanos - the beat of his heart and the soft sound of his breathing were a reassuring reminder that he was still here, still alive, still yours.

“That was an easy one,” you said, smiling when he nuzzled his face into your neck, soft curls dancing lightly over the small bit of exposed skin. “Give me three bordering constellations.”

Loki didn’t even pause. “Andromeda, Lacerta, and Perseus,” he replied quietly, soft lips pressing against your neck over and over in gentle, innocent kisses. 

He wasn’t shy with his affections, but you still lapped it up, cherishing every last second you got to spend with this man. “Show off,” you muttered, though there was nothing but affection lacing your words. 

He only laughed softly, nuzzling his nose against the skin of your neck. “You asked me to tell you about the stars, my love. I’m only granting your request,” he said, returning his chin to rest on your shoulder. “And I believe the deal was one kiss for every constellation I named correctly,” he prompted smugly. 

You pretended to huff. “Fine,” you said, but turned your head eagerly to allow him to kiss you.

You caught the brief roll of his eyes and his affectionate little smirk before his lips claimed yours. It was chaste and gentle and he still tasted faintly of the hot chocolate you had both drank while the stars were only beginning to shine above your heads. 

Now it felt as though the warmth radiating from each of those stars lighting up the sky was blossoming in your chest while he kissed you. 

You would never tire of kissing him. 

His left arm snaked up your back beneath the blanket to loop across your shoulders, coaxing you to turn around so you were pressed against him and sitting sideways in his lap. Your body moulded easily to his, as though your soul recognised his as its mate and craved closeness, and you swore that if you had died in that very moment you would have died with no complaints.

When his lips broke apart from yours - leaving a pleasant tingle in their wake - it was as though nothing else in the world mattered but you and him, like nothing else would ever matter but you and him. You placed one last kiss to the strong line of his jaw and burrowed into the familiar comfort of his neck and were rewarded by his strong arms wrapping around you to cradle you to him.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked about the brightest star in the sky tonight, my love,” he spoke softly after a minute, and you swore you felt his heart speed up. 

Unseen by him you smiled, knowing that it was clearly bait for something but not caring in the slightest. “Tell me about the brightest star in the sky tonight, Loki,” you said, fighting not to laugh when he heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh. 

“Fine,” he echoed your earlier feigned annoyance. “What would you like to know?” 

“Its name would be nice.” 

For a moment there was silence and you briefly wondered if this time you really had caught him out. Then, his arms tightened around you and your name dropped quietly from his lips.

“Hmm?” you replied, believing that he was only attempting to get your attention. 

“That’s its name,” he said slowly in the same soft voice. This time, you knew you could feel his heart racing in his chest.

He was nervous.

Swiftly, you pulled out of his embrace just far enough to allow you to see his face. It was soft and expectant and he was gazing at you with so much love that you swore your heart would burst. “You named a star after me?” you asked him stupidly.

Loki’s eyes flickered briefly over your face, gazing at you with such reverence it was as though he was seeing you for the first time. “Yes,” he answered simply. Even under the cover of darkness, you could see the light dusting of pink that rose to his cheeks. 

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything more, didn’t give him a chance to do anything, but tangled your arms around his neck and kissed him, putting as much love behind it as your heart could muster. This man was your sun, your moon, your entire night sky and more. 

“I love you so much,” you said softly when your lips left his, cupping his face in your hands. 

Loki smiled - that soft smile that was reserved for only you - and reached for your hand to place another soft kiss to your palm. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky, my little mortal.”

Tags: @sailorholly @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbs @ozymdias @fandxmslxt69 @trickster-maiden @lokixryss @silverfire475 @wolfsmom1 @lokisgoodgirl @cake-writes @vickie5446 @lokidbadguy @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @all-envy-suyu @erynion-rogueofthegreenwoods @gortycs @katehawke @123forgottherest @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @peanutbutter-y-jams @wintermischief @gigglingtigger @kinky-faerie

[freesia-writes]

Soft Sunset Crosshair

The only thing I'll write for the 1000 follower celebration, LOL. Dedicated to #1000 herself, @wenalena 😁 Divider by @ve-ti-ver! Apologies for the shortness; my writing brain isn't braining lately but I wanted to paint a sweet lil scene. 💙

The waves rolled in steadily, kissing the shore with a soothing crash and immediately dissolving into smooth foam that coated the sandy beach for a moment before disappearing. You basked in the salty breeze, closing your eyes for a moment to allow it to caress your cheek, then startling when a more tangible touch replaced it. Opened eyes met a warm gaze from Crosshair, who was snuggled up behind you. You answered it with a smile, touching your fingers to the back of his hand in appreciation.

Crosshair had surprised you with an incredible date tonight; he had found a quiet cove along the seashore, beyond the tide at its highest point, and had surprised you by decorating the inside with tiny string lights and a plush outdoor mattress with piles of blankets, backed up against the rock wall. You could lean back together and watch the sun set over the sea. And that was precisely what you were doing, tucked snugly against his firm chest, nestled between his long legs, hearing his breathing and heartbeat behind you.

"You like it?" he murmured, dry tone barely concealing the vulnerability beneath.

"It's amazing," you answered, pulling his arms around you more tightly and tilting your head against him.

He hummed his approval, pressing a kiss to the top of your hair.

"You're amazing," you continued, shifting to your side to see his face. His angular features were softened by the unmistakable affection he held for you as he met your eyes, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.

"Now you're just being ridiculous," he chastised, and you laughed in delight.

"Mmkay," you conceded, leaning in to press your forehead against the side of his face, cupping his cheek tenderly and brushing a thumb along his cheekbone before pulling back to regard him fully again. You placed one last delicate kiss on his cheek, then turned back to the glorious scene before you: creamy golden light making the tops of the waves glow as the sun made its last stand on the horizon. Colorful birds singing their evening songs. The last few people soaking it all in.

"That didn't mean you had to stop," Crosshair remarked, earning another giggle from you. He shifted you back toward him, tipping your chin with a gentle finger. His amber eyes had depths that you had yet to find the end of, and your heart skipped a beat at the smolder they currently held. "But I guess we can find other ways for you to express your admiration," he purred, cutting off your final chuckle with his lips.

[asunsetgrace16]

We Did A Thing - Pt. 1 ⎥ MB12

Pairing: Matt Boldy x fem!reader

Summary: the one where Matt and Y/N eloped

Warnings: swearing, kissing, a really cringe proposal speech from Matt, drinking

Notes: Your cat is named Fish. He is fluffy and grey with green eyes. This is my longest piece yet, though the bar isn't that high

masterlist⎥ navigation

1.4k Words

Part 2

One week into the playoffs. One week since their last game. Matt accepted the invitation to go to worlds. And everybody is going stir crazy. Even the cat.

Matt and Y/N lie in bed, tangled in sheets with the comforter half off the foot of the bed. Matt's warm chest is pressed into Y/N's back, and she snuggles closer when Fish lands at her feet. He goes in circles, pawing at the blanket trying to get settled. Ultimately he wanders up the bed and sits, meowing impatiently. Matt cracks an eye open.

"Shoo, cat. You have an automatic feeder for a reason. With all that ruckus you're making you will wake up mom." Matt hisses at the cat, pushing up onto an elbow.

Fish just blinks. And yawns, thoroughly unaffected by Matt's words.

"It's alright, I was mostly awake anyway." Y/N says, rolling over onto her back. Matt gazes down at her, a soft smile on his face, simply enjoying her beauty. He doesn't know how he got so lucky.

"I love you, you know. More than I ever thought I could" He whispers. The moment calls for it.

"I love you too, Matty." She says back to him, reaching up to run her fingers along his jaw. Matt leans down and meets her in the middle for a quick kiss, avoiding morning breath if at all possible. He props himself up against the headboard and pulls Y/N to lounge between his legs, snugly in the circle of his arms. Fish moves to the other end of the bed and lays down in a huff. Fickle creature. Matt drops his head to rest on her shoulder, pressing soft kisses on her skin. They bask in the warmth of the sun streaming through the curtains, which lift with a light breeze. These warm mornings are something they cherish in the hustle and bustle of the regular season.

Y/N relaxes back in Matt, feeling his heartbeat softly. She intertwines their hands, letting out a sigh of contentment. Matt shifts behind her, getting more comfortable.

"Marry me." Matt says softly, abruptly into the stillness of the room.

"What?" Y/N asks incredulously, turning slightly in his arms.

"I said, marry me. Right now. It's not like we haven't talked about it before. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why not get married?"  He repeats, more intensely this time.

Y/N scoots forward and out of his arms to properly look at him, "Matt, you are fucking insane. We don't have time right now. We can't plan a wedding that fast, and you have worlds right away."

"No, no, not plan a wedding. Just the two of us."

Oh. Elope. Matt can see the wheels turning in your head, working backwards to create a timeline.

"Oh. So if we do this, are we telling anybody? Will we go back to Mass or do it here?" Y/N asks.

"We could drive over to Duluth, they have a beautiful old courthouse. Then there is no chance anybody who knows us would see us. I kinda like the idea of it being our secret for a while"

Y/N cracks a grin, teasing, "In a black suit and white dress, no less." She pauses for a moment, brows furrowing, "Can we really pull this off?"

"I think we can."

"Well, now you have to actually ask me. Kneel down, the whole bit."

"Are you serious?" Matt groans playfully.

"As a heart attack."

"Fine." He stands up, stretching as he goes. Y/N enjoys the sight of his golden skin in the sunshine. He grabs her hand and pulls her up with him.

"Here goes nothing." He says, going down on one knee. "Y/N, you are the love of my life, I have no speech prepared. I can't imagine a day without you. Y/F/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Yes, one hundred times yes." She answers giggling and smiling through tears. Matt breaks out into a broad grin, standing up. He pulls her into a kiss, one of pure love and joy.

Pulling back, Y/N says, "Wait wait wait, are we forgetting something?"

They stand looking at each other, racking their brains for what they could possibly need.

"The rings!" They say in unison.

"Duluth has jewelry stores, we will get you an engagement ring and wedding bands there."

"I'll book a hotel for a few days and scope out stores. Will we come back here or are you meeting somewhere for worlds training?" Y/N says.

"Training doesn't start until next week. What's today, Wednesday? If we can swing it, let's leave late this afternoon. Book the hotel through Saturday."

"Ok. You contact the Justice of the Peace for a marriage license."

-

Plans were made hastily. A few days’ worth of clothes were tossed into suitcases.

“Matt!’ Y/N calls, “what suit do you want?” 

“Black two-piece, please, and a white shirt. And a tie, not the bowtie. You know what, throw both in and I can decide tomorrow.” Matt answers, walking into their bedroom. “What dress did you decide on?”

“I went out over lunch and stopped at the boutique on Larson that I like. I had seen a dress there the last time I went and luckily they still had it.”

“Well, let’s see it, beautiful. Unless you aren’t letting me see it until tomorrow, are you?” Matt teases. 

“You can see it, let me grab my shoes.”

Y/N changes in their closet. Sliding on her heels, she catches her reflection in the mirror. ‘Matt better think I look as good as I think I do’, she thinks to herself. Walking out of the closet, she stops in front of Matt and spins.

The dress is a soft cream satin, ending just above her knees. It has a simple square neckline and fitted waist, the skirt falling in gentle pleats. 

“Oh my…, baby you look stunning.” Matt breathes. 

“Really?” She asks shyly, “my hair isn’t done, and neither is my makeup. Is it too simple?”

“No no no, you look so beautiful, even with a messy bun and no makeup. I’d marry you looking like this if I could.” Matt stands quickly, capturing her around the waist and spinning her around. Y/N grins, throwing her head back and laughing as Matt picks her up and spins her again. 

“Ok, put me down so we can finish packing, and then we are ready to go, I think.” Her dress and Matt’s suit are packed in garment bags, shoes and a curling iron are the last things into the suitcases. After refilling Fish’s feeder and leaving an unnecessary note for their regular pet-sitter, Matt and Y/N are on the road. 

-

“Here we are.” Matt says, stopping in front of the door that will change their lives. “You still good? Your hands are a little sweaty.”

“Yeah, just nervous, you know? Not cold feet, just nervously excited. You still have the rings?” Y/N replies.

Matt feels the heavy weight of the ring box in his jacket pocket, matching the true weight of their decisions. “Yeah, still got ‘em.”

“Good.” Y/N says letting out a breath, steeling her nerves. “Let’s do this.”

-

“...and I now pronounce you husband and wife. Matt, you may kiss your bride.”

Matt is quick to kiss her, leaning her back into a saucy dip. She hold tight to his shoulders, feeling his wedding band press into her ribs. Pulling apart as they stand up, Y/N and Matt wear matching grins, eyes shining with tears.

“Holy shit we’re married!” Y/N shouts with a laugh, still not used to the weight of her wedding rings. The justice smiles at her.

“Hell yeah, we’re married.” Matt echoes her sentiments.

“Come, let’s get the license signed and get you two on your way.” the Justice says to them. They sign the license, taking a copy for themselves. The justice shakes their hands, offering his congratulations and well wishes. The photographer that was provided takes a few more photos before wanting to get some shots outside. 

Finally, they make it back to the hotel, Y/N holding a bottle of champagne. They must be a sight, a giggly couple in wedding attire hanging onto each other like they are already drunk. But not on alcohol, they are drunk on love. Stepping out of the elevator, Matt pulls Y/N by the hand. 

“Come on Mrs. Boldy, let’s pop that bubbly.” Matt says unlocking the door and walking into their room.

“Mrs. Boldy, I like the sound of that, Mr. Boldy.” Y/N says, linking an arm around Matt’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.

[lunardragon00]

The Heir (Choi San x OC)

Masterlist

Genre: Fantasy , Lord!San x Princess!OC

Words: 4655

Warning: n/a

Chapter Eight--> Chapter Nine --> Chapter Eleven

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔢𝔫: 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔄𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰

In the soft embrace of dawn's light, Dragonspire stirred with the gentle rhythm of awakening. Princess Hana, nestled in the sanctuary of her chambers, found herself shifting restlessly in her bed, her brow furrowed with discomfort. 

The sudden onset of morning sickness caught Hana off guard, its relentless grip leaving her feeling weak and unsteady. As she lay nestled in the comfort of their chambers, the weight of nausea pressing down upon her like a suffocating veil, she found herself caught in the relentless tide of discomfort that seemed to wash over her with each passing moment.

San, ever attentive to her needs, hovered at her side like a steadfast guardian, his concern etched into the lines of his brow as he watched over her with unwavering devotion. With each bout of nausea that wracked her body, he was there, offering soothing words of reassurance and gentle caresses that served as a balm to her troubled spirit.

"Stay here, my love," he implored, his voice soft with worry as he tucked the blankets snugly around her trembling form. "You need rest, and I will not have you exerting yourself unnecessarily."

Hana shook her head, dismissing him. "No, I have responsibilities that need to be taken care of." San's brow furrowed with concern as he gently brushed a lock of hair from Hana's forehead, his touch tender against her fevered skin. "Your health is paramount, my dear," he insisted, his voice laced with quiet determination. "Whatever responsibilities you may have can wait. Right now, you need to focus on resting and recuperating."

Hana met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a stubborn resolve that mirrored his own. "But the kingdom..." she began, her voice trailing off as another wave of nausea washed over her, leaving her breathless and weak.

San's expression softened with understanding as he gently cupped her cheek, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of her discomfort. "The kingdom will manage without you for a day or two," he reassured her, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of her turmoil. "Your health comes first, Hana. Please, allow yourself the time to recover."

Reluctantly, Hana nodded, conceding to his unwavering insistence with a weary sigh. As she settled back against the pillows, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her illness, she found solace in the warmth of San's presence beside her. "Please, call the Maestor is you feel any worse." San stands from the side of the bed and moves quickly to dress. 

"You're leaving?" She asks, voice hearse from the strain over the past hour. San paused mid-motion, his expression softened with concern as he turned back to face Hana, her weary voice pulling at the strings of his heart. "A raven was sent from Coralrift late in the night. I have been summoned by my father." he reassured her, his voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of their chambers. 

Hana's brows furrowed with concern at the mention of San's summons, her thoughts momentarily eclipsed by the gravity of his words. "Is everything alright?" she inquired, her voice tinged with worry as she watched him move with purposeful determination.

San's features softened with a reassuring smile, his eyes alight with a flicker of warmth as he approached her bedside once more. "Everything will be fine, my love," he assured her, his voice a steady anchor amidst the uncertainty that lingered in the air. "It's likely just a matter that requires my presence back home."

Though his words were meant to assuage her fears, Hana couldn't shake the sense of unease that gnawed at the edges of her conscience. With a silent nod, she offered him a small smile, masking the turbulent storm of emotions that churned within her heart.

"Take care of yourself, San," she murmured softly, her voice a tender caress against the backdrop of their shared intimacy. "And please, return to me safely." San's smile widened at her words, his heart swelling with a profound sense of love and devotion for the woman who had captured his soul. "Always," he vowed.

With a final brush of his fingers against her cheek, San bid her farewell and disappeared beyond the threshold, leaving Hana to grapple with the tumult of her thoughts and the quiet echo of his departure. 

As San dismounts from Aeshara, his faithful dragon, the grandeur of Coralrift unfolds before him in a breathtaking panorama. The ancestral seat of his family rises majestically from the rugged cliffs that overlook the crashing waves of the tempestuous sea below. The fortress is hewn from the very stone of the cliffs, its towering spires reaching skyward like the outstretched arms of ancient sentinels, their weathered facades bearing witness to the passage of countless generations.

The walls are fortified with weathered stone, their imposing heights standing as a testament to the strength and resilience of the house that has called this bastion home for centuries. Turrets and battlements adorn the ramparts, their jagged silhouettes etched against the azure expanse of the sky, while the banners of House Choi flutter proudly in the salty breeze that sweeps in from the sea.

As San's footsteps echoed against the worn cobblestones of the courtyard, a familiar voice rang out, cutting through the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. Turning, San beheld the figure of Jongho, his cousin and trusted confidant, striding towards him with a warm smile etched upon his face.

"San!" Jongho called out, his voice filled with genuine affection as he closed the distance between them. "It's good to see you, cousin. Welcome back to Coralrift."

San's own smile widened at the sight of Jongho, his heart warming at the genuine warmth and camaraderie that defined their relationship. "Jongho," he replied, his voice tinged with the unmistakable lilt of affection. "It's good to be home." As they embraced in a brief but heartfelt hug, San felt a surge of reassurance flood through him, buoyed by the unwavering support of family amidst the turbulent currents of their world. 

"Do you know what my father has summoned me for?" San inquired, his tone tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as he turned to Jongho, seeking insight into the purpose behind his summons to Coralrift. Jongho's expression softened, his features reflecting a blend of understanding and concern as he met San's gaze with unwavering sincerity. 

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted, his voice thoughtful as he considered the implications of Lord Jungchul's summons. "But knowing him, it's likely something of importance."San nodded, his thoughts swirling with a whirlwind of anticipation and uncertainty.

"Well, let's not keep him waiting then. Shall we?" Both men made way to the heart of Coralrift. As San and Jongho made their way through the hallowed halls, the banners of House Choi adorned the walls, their vibrant colors a stark contrast against the ancient stone that surrounded them. The light blue hue, reminiscent of the boundless expanse of the ocean, dominated the banners, while painted white seahorses danced gracefully across their surface—a symbol of the house's maritime heritage and the strength of its naval prowess. 

"Why seahorses?" San finally voiced the question that had plagued him for years, his tone laced with a mixture of genuine curiosity and gentle bemusement. Jongho glanced at him, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recognized the inquiry for what it was.

"It is said that the seahorse symbolizes patience, protection, and contentment," Jongho replied, his voice carrying the weight of centuries-old lore and tradition. "For generations, our ancestors have looked to the sea for sustenance and strength, and the seahorse has come to represent the resilience and fortitude of our people in the face of adversity." He continued. "But you already know that cousin." San shrugged in reply. 

"Just thought it would be small conversation." San grinned in agreement, a sense of camaraderie settling between them like an old friend. San and Jongho reached the towering doors of the throne room, carved from the same sturdy oak that had weathered countless storms. With a shared glance, their gazes met, a silent understanding passing between them as they braced themselves for the revelations that awaited within. Jongho reached out, his hand resting upon the cold, weathered surface of the door, fingers curling around the wrought iron handle with a steady resolve. The two men stepped across the threshold, their footsteps echoing against the polished stone floors as they entered the heart of Coralrift's power and authority.

At the far end of the chamber, bathed in the soft glow of torchlight, Lord Jungchul sat upon his ancestral seat, his figure cloaked in regal authority as he awaited their approach.

"My son, Jongho," Lord Jungchul greeted them, his voice a low rumble that echoed with the resonance of centuries-old tradition. "Thank you for coming."

San and Jongho exchanged a brief glance,with each step, the distance between them and their father narrowed, the weight of expectation bearing down upon their shoulders like a mantle of duty.

"You summoned us, Father," San spoke, his voice measured yet tinged with the unmistakable edge of curiosity. Lord Jungchul inclined his head, his gaze steady as it swept over his sons with a discerning scrutiny.

"There are matters of great import that require our attention," Lord Jungchul began, his voice commanding the attention of all who stood within the hallowed confines of the throne room. "But first, let us speak of our house and its future." 

"Yes, let us discuss your son's betrayal to the Choi name." Jaehyun's words cut through the air like a sharp blade, his voice laced with accusation and simmering anger. San's heart clenched at the mention of betrayal, the weight of his uncle's accusation bearing down upon him with suffocating force. Lord Jungchul's expression remained impassive, his features betraying little of the tumultuous emotions that roiled beneath the surface. 

"What betrayal do you speak of, Uncle?" he inquired, his voice calm yet tinged with a hint of foreboding. Jaehyun's gaze hardened, his eyes flashing with undisguised disdain as they settled upon San. 

"He speak of your union with the Princess of Dragonspire," His father declared, his voice ringing with righteous indignation. "A marriage conducted in secret, without the consent or knowledge of our house. Such treachery cannot be tolerated." 

Jungchul's voice sliced through the air with disdain. "It was foolish, an abomination," his uncle declared, his words dripping with contempt. San's jaw tightened at the disrespect shown by his uncle. Despite the familial bond, he couldn't tolerate such insolence. Straightening his posture, he met Jaehyun's gaze with unwavering resolve.

"With all due respect, Uncle," San began, his tone firm yet controlled, "my father may address me as he sees fit, but you will watch your tongue in my presence." The tension in the room thickened, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Jaehyun's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with indignation at San's defiance.

"I will not stand idly by and listen to such insults," San continued, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction. "If you have grievances, speak them with respect, or not at all." Jaehyun bristled at the rebuke, his pride wounded by San's unwavering resolve. For a moment, silence enveloped the room, each word hanging in the air like a silent challenge.

The air in the throne room grew heavy with tension, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them like a dense fog. Lord Jungchul observed the exchange with a measured gaze, his expression betraying little of his inner thoughts.

"Enough," he declared, his voice cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. "We are not here to exchange insults or accusations. We are here to address the challenges that face our house." San's jaw clenched, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he struggled to contain his emotions in the face of his uncle's hostility. Beside him, Jongho remained silent, his expression a mask of stoic resolve as he observed the unfolding confrontation.

"San," Lord Jungchul addressed his son, his voice commanding attention, "your actions have consequences that extend far beyond your own desires. But that is not the true reason I have summoned you here today." Lord Jungchul's tone carried a weight of solemnity that left no room for doubt—the matter at hand was of grave importance, one that demanded their full attention and consideration.

"The Stepstones," Lord Jungchul continued, his voice heavy with gravitas, "have become a focal point of conflict and instability in recent months. Pirates, emboldened by chaos and lawlessness, have begun to terrorize our shores, plundering our trade routes and threatening the safety and security of our people." San's brow furrowed with concern, his mind racing as he considered the implications of his father's words. The Stepstones had long been a volatile region, plagued by piracy and unrest, but the severity of the situation had escalated to unprecedented levels in recent times. What they once thought was settled years ago, had now become, once again, a rising issue. 

"We cannot allow this state of affairs to persist," Lord Jungchul asserted, his voice firm with resolve. "Our sovereignty is at stake, as is the prosperity and well-being of our citizens. It falls upon us, as stewards of our realm, to confront this threat head-on and restore order to the Stepstones." San nodded in agreement, his determination steeled by the gravity of the task before them. The safety and security of their lands, the livelihoods of their people—these were the principles upon which their house stood, and he would not allow them to be compromised by the whims of lawless marauders.

"We must mobilize our forces, bolster our defenses, and send a clear message to those who would dare to challenge our authority," Lord Jungchul declared, his voice resonating with conviction. "The time for action is upon us, my son. Together, we shall reclaim the Stepstones once more and ensure that peace and prosperity reign upon our shores." 

As Lord Jungchul outlined the urgency of the situation regarding the Stepstones, San's inner turmoil intensified, a tempest of conflicting emotions swirling within him like a raging storm. On one hand, his duty to his house and his people beckoned him to action—to stand alongside his father, to defend their lands, and to reclaim the peace that had been stolen by the marauding pirates.

Yet, beneath the facade of resolve, a torrent of doubt and apprehension gnawed at San's conscience. The memories of his previous campaign in the Stepstones lingered like specters in the depths of his mind, haunting him with the echoes of past battles and the toll they had exacted upon his spirit. Moreover, his thoughts strayed to Hana—his beloved wife, whose well-being had become the beacon by which he navigated the tumultuous seas of his own conflicted heart. Her recent bouts of sickness weighed heavily upon him, casting shadows of uncertainty over their newfound happiness and casting doubt upon the wisdom of his departure.

The prospect of leaving her side, of once again being torn away from the warmth of her embrace, filled San with a profound sense of anguish and guilt. How could he reconcile his duty to his house with the yearning of his heart—to protect and cherish the woman he loved above all else?

As the deliberations in the throne room continued, San's gaze wandered to the ornate windows that framed the sweeping vistas of Coralrift, the crashing waves of the sea below mirroring the turmoil that churned within his soul. In that moment of quiet reflection, he knew that a decision loomed on the horizon—one that would test the very foundations of his resolve and define the course of his destiny.

"Cousin," he heard Jongho say. His attention was brought back to the three men before him. "What do you think? It is your dragon afterall?" San blinked, his thoughts momentarily scattered as he returned his focus to the present, drawn back from the depths of his inner turmoil by Jongho's inquiry. His cousin's words echoed in the chamber, cutting through the haze of uncertainty that clouded his mind. 

With a furrowed brow, San turned his attention to Jongho, his expression a reflection of his confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice tinged with a note of perplexity as he sought clarification.

Jongho regarded him with a steady gaze, his features unreadable yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. "Your dragon, Aeshara," he elaborated, his tone measured yet tinged with curiosity. "What is your decision? Will you heed the call to arms and ride with our forces to the Stepstones, or do you hesitate?"

San's mind raced as he considered Jongho's question, the weight of his decision bearing down upon him with unrelenting force. In that moment, he knew that the fate of their house hung in the balance. Before San could form a response, Jaehyun's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his words dripping with disdain and accusation. The contempt in his uncle's tone ignited a spark of defiance within San's chest, his jaw setting in a firm line as he braced himself for the impending confrontation.

"You speak of duty and honor, yet you hesitate," Jaehyun sneered, his voice dripping with scorn. "Have you forgotten your responsibilities so soon? Or do you simply lack the courage to face them?"

San's nostrils flared with barely contained frustration, his resolve hardening against the onslaught of his uncle's derision. "I have not forgotten my responsibilities, Uncle," he retorted, his voice steely with determination. "But I will not be coerced into action by hollow words and empty threats."

Jaehyun's eyes narrowed, his expression twisted with contempt as he regarded San with undisguised disdain. "You forget from whence you came, nephew. You wear the colors of another house, you take claim to a dragon that was never yours to begin with. It has not been long since your union and yet you have already become one of them." he spat, his words a bitter reminder of the divisions that had long plagued their family.

San's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought to contain the surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. Jaehyun's accusations cut deep, striking at the core of San's identity and sense of belonging within their family.

"I have not forgotten where I come from, Uncle," San countered, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and sorrow. "But I refuse to be shackled by the narrow confines of tradition and expectation. I wear the colors of House Kim as a symbol of unity, not division. And Aeshara is more than just a dragon; she is a companion. Our family too descends from Valyria, just as the Kim's do. We share the blood of the dragon as much as them." 

San's resolve hardened, his gaze meeting Jaehyun's with unwavering determination. "Our family's legacy is not defined by the symbols we bear, but by the strength of our bonds and the honor of our actions," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "I may wear the colors of House Kim, but my loyalty lies with House Choi, now and always."

The tension in the room crackled with palpable intensity, the air heavy with unspoken animosity and unresolved conflict. With a heavy heart and tension hanging in the air, San turned away from his uncle, his decision weighing heavily upon him. 

"I will not make my decision until I have spoken with my wife," he declared, his voice firm yet tinged with a note of sadness. "And I will no longer allow myself to be drawn into conflict with those who seek to undermine our family's unity."

With a final nod to his cousin and father, San bid them farewell, and with a determined stride, he made his way to Aeshara. Together they took to the skies, leaving behind the echoes of discord that lingered in the halls of Coralrift. As the wind whipped through his hair and the vast expanse of the sea stretched out before him, San felt a sense of clarity wash over him. 

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

As Prince Seong-Min paces the ornate chambers of Sunseth, his anger burns like a relentless flame, consuming him from within. His youngest son, Prince Wooyoung, lies dead, his life extinguished under circumstances that still haunt the halls of their ancestral home. Seong-Min's eyes smolder with fury as he turns to his eldest son, Yeosang, the only solace in his tumultuous world.

"I cannot bear this injustice any longer. The Kim family, they have taken everything from us." His words are punctuated by the seething resentment that simmers just beneath the surface, a testament to the depth of his anguish and his thirst for vengeance.

Yeosang's gaze meets his father's, his expression a mask of serene composure amidst the tempest of their emotions. "Father," he interjects, his voice calm yet tinged with a note of caution. "We must tread carefully. Accusations without evidence serve only to stoke the flames of conflict."

But Seong-Min's fury brooks no dissent, his resolve unyielding in the face of his son's measured counsel. "They will pay for what they have done," he declares, his voice a thunderous proclamation that reverberates through the chamber. "I will see to it that justice is served, even if it means tearing down their house stone by stone."

Yeosang's heart aches at the sight of his father's anguish, his own grief mirroring the depths of their shared loss. Yet, in the depths of his soul, he knows that the path to true justice lies not in blind retribution, but in the pursuit of truth and reconciliation. As he stands before his father, a beacon of reason amidst the storm of their grief, Yeosang can only hope that his words will find purchase in the hardened heart of the prince.

Seong-Min's frustration boiled over, his voice laced with bitterness as he voiced his darkest thoughts to his son, the only confidant he trusted in his anguish.

"Choi San," he began, his tone heavy with accusation and simmering rage, "he is the serpent that slithers in the shadows, responsible for the death of your brother. Hana, that treacherous princess, she ordered his demise, mark my words!"

Yeosang listened in silence, his expression a mask of calm amidst his father's storm. "Father," he interjected, his voice a soothing counterpoint to Seong-Min's fury, "we cannot act in haste. There is no proof of Princess Hana's involvement, and Choi San may be innocent of the crimes you accuse him of."

But Seong-Min would hear none of it, his resolve hardening with each passing moment. "Innocence matters not in the face of my son's blood spilled upon the sands," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "Hongjoong, that fool of a king, he will pay for his sister's negligence. And his son... he shall bear the weight of his father's sins."

With each word, Seong-Min's thirst for vengeance burned brighter, a relentless flame that consumed all reason and mercy in its wake. In his eyes, the debt owed could only be repaid in blood, a reckoning that would echo through the annals of history, staining the sands of Mythria with the crimson hue of retribution. 

While he understood the depth of his father's pain and the need for justice, Yeosang couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the path of vengeance laid out before them. In his heart, Yeosang harbored doubts and reservations about the righteousness of their cause. He couldn't shake the lingering specter of doubt regarding Princess Hana's involvement in his brother's death, nor could he reconcile the idea of condemning innocent lives in the pursuit of their vendetta.

Despite his inner turmoil, Yeosang knew better than to openly challenge his father's resolve. Seong-Min was consumed by grief and driven by a thirst for justice that brooked no dissent. Instead, Yeosang sought to temper his father's fury with reason, to guide him away from the precipice of blind vengeance toward a path of measured justice and peace. Yeosang carefully chose his words, mindful of the delicate balance between his father's grief and his own crumbling resolve. With a voice tempered by compassion and understanding, he sought to redirect his father's thoughts away from the consuming flames of vengeance that threatened to engulf them both.

"Father," Yeosang began, his tone soft yet resolute, "I understand your pain, your desire for justice. But we must tread carefully, lest we lose sight of what truly matters." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle between them like a shroud of solemn reflection.

"We cannot let our grief blind us to the consequences of our actions," he continued, his voice steady despite the tempest raging within his heart. "Revenge will not bring Wooyoung back to us. It will only breed more suffering and bloodshed." Yeosang reached out, his hand resting gently upon his father's trembling shoulder, a gesture of solace amidst the storm of their emotions. "Let us seek justice, Father, but let us not lose ourselves in the darkness of our own despair. Wooyoung would not want this for us."

Seong-Min's fury erupted like a storm unleashed, his emotions surging forth with an intensity that threatened to consume everything in its path. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white with the strain of his tumultuous rage, as he turned to face Yeosang with eyes ablaze with unbridled fury.

"How dare you speak to me of what Wooyoung would want?" Seong-Min's voice thundered through the chamber, its reverberations echoing off the walls like the tolling of a funeral bell. "You know nothing of his desires, his dreams, his aspirations."

Yeosang recoiled at the force of his father's wrath, the heat of his anger scorching the very air around them with its searing intensity. Yet, even in the face of his father's fury, he refused to waver, his resolve unyielding in the face of the storm.

"I speak only of what I believe to be true, Father," Yeosang replied, his voice unwavering despite the rising tide of his father's fury. "We must not allow our grief to consume us, to drive us to actions that we will come to regret."

But Seong-Min's fury brooked no dissent, his rage a tempest that swept aside all reason and restraint in its relentless onslaught. With a wordless cry of anguish and frustration, he turned away from his son.  "You speak as though you are kin to the Kims, as though their blood runs through your veins," Seong-Min spat, his voice laced with bitterness and resentment. "Your close relationship with those siblings blinds your sight, clouds your judgment, and compromises the honor of our house."

Yeosang's heart clenched at his father's accusations, the sting of his words striking deep into the very core of his being. He had always sought to maintain neutrality, to navigate the treacherous currents of court politics with impartiality and grace. And yet, in his father's eyes, his efforts were perceived as betrayal, his loyalty questioned and his integrity tarnished.

"I have no allegiance to the Kims, Father," Yeosang replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But neither do I harbor enmity towards them. We must not allow our grief and anger to drive a wedge between us and those who may yet prove to be allies in the days to come." 

As the echoes of their heated exchange faded into the silence of the chamber, a heavy pall settled over the room, thick with unresolved tension and simmering resentment. Seong-Min's gaze bore into Yeosang with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine, a silent reminder of the rift that had formed between them in the wake of their shared loss. Yeosang's heart ached with the weight of his father's fury, the distance between them widening with each passing moment. 

With a heavy sigh, Seong-Min turned away, "We will speak of this later," he declared, his voice a low rumble that echoed with the weight of his unresolved grievances. And with that, the prince of Sunsphinx withdrew into the shadows, leaving Yeosang to ponder the shattered remnants of their fractured relationship and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

[againstacecilia]

Nightmares

Alrighty, #BlurbTuesday coming in just under the wire! Since I wasn't able to write anything this week (it's been a BUSY one, y'all) you get a sneak preview into a series I'm writing! This may or may not be exactly how it turns out later, but I thought I'd use this moment since I'm pretty proud of it. Stretching those dialogue muscles!

Warnings: reader has a nightmare, helmet is off for a second, emotions lol. This doesn't really need a rating but, as always, the whole blog is 18+ ONLY. Love y'all. 💖

Cold. It's cold, and you're laying in the street he left you in. Your hand raises to reach out as you yell, "Don't go. Please, don't go..."

"You're weak."

"But I came to save-"

"To save me? You can't even save yourself."

Your voice is raw from screaming as the man in front of you begins to fade...

“Hey, hey, wake up. Wake up!” someone shouts. You’re being shaken, blankets tangled and squeezing your body. Your eyes shoot open to the darkness of a hand covering your eyes. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s just a dream, you’re okay.” You realize Mando is the one talking, and it’s his hand covering your eyes.

“What’s going on?” you’re scrambling to get the blankets off you, sweat coating every inch of your body.

“I’m sorry,” Mando says, “I couldn’t get my helmet on fast enough, you’ve gotta calm down so I know you won’t look.”

His helmet… He doesn’t have his helmet on. You force your breathing to calm and close your eyes again under his hand. 

“I’m okay. I won’t look, I promise.” You intentionally take deep breaths trying to slow your racing heart. “You can go back to bed. I’m sorry for waking you up.” You wait patiently for him to remove his hand. Just to prove the seriousness of your promise, as soon as his hand is gone you replace it with your own. You feel his body shift off your cot and hear metal clink as he retrieves the helmet. 

“Okay, you can look,” Mando’s voice is modulated again and you remove your hand from your face. As your eyes open, all you can see is Mando, backlit by the soft glow from the various control panels dotting the walls. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you repeat, throwing all your blankets to the floor next to you and resting the side of your head on the cool metal wall. “Like you said, it was just a dream.”

“Are you alright?” Mando asks, kneeling next to the bed.

“I’m fine,” you wave his concern away. 

“Do you… Wanna talk about it?” 

You turn your head to look over the Mandalorian beside you. A loose, base layer shirt fits snugly over his arms and chest, his strength obvious. His helmet gleams in the soft light and the pitch black visor is trained on your face, probably analyzing your every move. 

“It was just… A dream. Just a dream.”

“About him?” he asks. 

“How did you…?”

“You were calling out for him,” Mando answers frankly. 

You lean back against the wall and sigh. “Yes. I was just seeing him leave. Again. Not the first time I’ve had this dream.”

“You don’t believe what he said, do you?”

The question gives you pause. “Of course I do. We’ve known each other for a long time, he knows me better than anyone.”

“And you think that means he’s right about you being scared and weak?” The way he asks the questions are matter-of-fact, but they hold no malice. 

“I know he’s right. Until now, I’d never even been outside my town, let alone off-world. I’m too scared and too weak to be anything but a girl who never left home.”

You can’t see his face, but something about Mando changes the moment you finish speaking. “You’re wrong.”

“Excuse me?” You turn your head to look at him, brows furrowed.

“The fact you left everything and everyone behind to go find your fiance, especially having never left home, shows your courage. Your loyalty to him was clear the moment you stepped foot on the Crest. Your strength in pulling yourself together after what that idiot did to you… You’re so much more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

You’re speechless. That was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go and it was like he knew exactly what you needed to hear. Mando rises, not waiting for a response, and grabs the bag holding your loth-wolf figurine. 

“You’re a strong woman,” He opens the bag and gives you the small piece of art. “Arlon doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

You stare at the creature in your hand and Mando moves back to his bunk. Before he shuts the door, you look up. “Thank you, Mando.”

“You’re welcome. Get some sleep,” is all he says.

But you can’t sleep. Not for fear of the nightmares returning, but something else pulls at your attention… Mando believes in you. You’ve only been traveling with him for a few weeks at this point and he can already see something in you that you can’t. He thinks you’re strong. And loyal. And courageous. Words that no one has ever used to describe you before now. And you really enjoy how it feels. Maybe… Maybe you really can be those things. 

You know what you have to do. 

[merakiui]

A Leaf Swept up in an Autumnal Breeze

yandere!kaedehara kazuha x (gender neutral) reader art credit - Tourou_7 on twt cw: yandere, unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, slight nsfw implications/thoughts, alcohol consumption, intoxication, spoilers for kazuha’s character story + inazuma lore note - i decided to write something short for kazuha as i analyze what we know so far of his character. hopefully the characterization isn’t too off! please enjoy nonetheless! orz

The moonlight casts its thin rays upon the calm, motionless sea. In the distance, fish surface and their movements are captured in the ripples that expand in the water, a minor blip in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere of the dark night. As if a god has taken a brush to the sky, utilizing its inky vastness as a canvas, the stars have been drawn in small specks—winking down at those who sleep underneath a blanket of natural light.

And you are caught up in the glorious shimmer, grinning widely as Beidou wraps her arm around you, pulling you against her as if the two of you have known each other for years. In reality, it’s only been a few months since you were discovered on her ship: a hidden stowaway with your Vision clutched in your hands and raw resolve etched into your body in the form of bruises and old scars. You’re a fighter and yet you also ran from something. Kazuha can’t quite tell what it is you’ve escaped. Whether it’s another person, a group of people, or even an entire nation, he’s certain it’s worthy of the risks that come with fleeing.

Your Vision shines brightly, a stark contrast to the dark color scheme of your clothes. He tries to place a nation to your outfit and comes up empty, his thoughts returning to Inazuma as though it’s the only place he can think of. And he supposes that’s true. The situation in Inazuma has clouded his mind with its strange fog, taking up residence in the nooks and crannies of his brain. Though he can dwell upon the past and the mistakes that led up to the downfall of a precious friend, he knows there is no use for such somber reflections during a happy celebration. Life moves on, as the common saying goes, and he cannot allow himself to remain trapped in the past.

During moments such as these, where he relives the horrible memory in vivid detail, you are a sweet balm that soothes the sting of loss. Even when you’re struggling to stand, face hot from the intoxication of good drinks in even better company, you’re a wondrous presence who chases away his doubts and worries.

Unknowingly, you cast a temporary shroud over those matters and he’s put at ease the minute you extend your arm in his direction.

“Kazuha! Come over here. Let’s dance!”

A hiccup interrupts your jovial giggle and Beidou chuckles before throwing her head back to drink what’s left in her flask. The aura of her ship is beyond lively. Men and women alike celebrate another successful week with drinks, harrowing tales of past heroes, and broken ballads sang in drunken tones. He can’t help the smile that sprouts on his lips. You’re such an outgoing person, always wanting to include him in your daily activities. And though he politely declines whenever you offer him alcohol, he has wondered what the appeal could possibly be.

Perhaps it’s the idea of losing your sensibility for one night, ignoring all reason for the sake of spending pleasurable moments in the confines of a warm bed, wrapped snugly in a lover’s embrace. Such instances are lost to intoxicating pleasure—buried under a hazy recollection come morning. But you haven’t done that sort of thing. Kazuha would know. He listens in while you’re relaxing—while you’re bathing and going about life on the ship without a care in the world—and his head runs wild with all sorts of fantasies. Fantasies he never would have imagined had he not met you.

To think you were just a mere stowaway, a trespasser who had snuck onto the ship and hid in the darkest corner, obscured by crates and chests. And he had pulled those crates aside in search of a few ingredients and his eyes met yours and you held your finger to your lips—a silent urge to keep quiet—and his heart skipped a beat.

It was a special meeting between two, which will remain locked away in his heart for all of eternity. A memory he regards with warm fondness. After much negotiation and a disarming conversation, you were soon welcomed with open arms as Beidou practically offered you to join her crew. You had nowhere else to go—no one else to see or protect—and so you agreed. And Kazuha felt a relief he hasn’t felt in a while, the sort of emotion that stems from almost losing something important.

The pure relief that comes and goes once he realizes you’re a missing piece in the puzzle of his life.

“You’ll trip,” he warns, pushing off from the side of the ship and walking over to you and Beidou. “It wouldn’t be wise to dance in your inebriated state. Surely you’re aware of this, no?”

“I can hold my alcohol.” Your wavering glare doesn’t reach him. “Don’t... Don’t think otherwise or else I’ll—ah!”

The majority of Beidou’s weight burdens your shoulders and you nearly almost crumble.

“You—“ she searches for a means to steady herself— “worry too much,” the captain adds, nodding in agreement to an unspoken statement. “It’ll be okay! Live a little while you’re still young.”

Kazuha sighs and easily slips between the two of you, hooking his arm around Beidou’s waist as he guides her to a barrel. The scent of alcohol kisses the air, clinging to your clothes and breath like an oversaturated perfume. Once she’s sat down, now fully determined to get the last few drops from out of the flask, the rōnin turns to you. He’s caught by surprise when your hands grasp his, your eager expression stabbing his heart with a dozen pins. He’s rooted to the floorboards, unable to look away when your face is dangerously close to his.

“You heard the captain,” you tease in a slurred voice. “Live a little.”

And he does. Or he thinks he does. Having traveled with Beidou, this is the current life he’s come to know and appreciate. But is it truly living if he feels unfulfilled in the process? To find a means for bringing back the familiar glow in a lonely Vision. To secure peace of mind and put his rowdy thoughts to rest. To one day return to the nation he was forced to flee, with you in tow. Are all of these things necessary in order to fill the gaping void in his damaged heart? Kazuha wonders if you also came from Inazuma. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so surprised to see the scenery if he were to take you there. Not now, of course. Sometime in the future, if such a future holds a changed Inazuma.

“I’m going to warn you now,” he mumbles, his fingers ghosting over your waist, “I’m not what one would call a dancer of skillful grace.”

“I don’t think that’s true, dear Kazuha.”

He blinks once and then releases a short laugh at the endearing term. “If you say so.”

“Enough talk.” You huff and pull him into your chest and he feels as though he could stay locked in this position for millennia. “Dance with me before...” A stilted pause as you nearly forget your sentence. “Before I turn in for the night. That’s it.”

Or before you get sick, he thinks, not so cheerful about the inevitable mess. But he’ll tolerate it because you’ve tolerated him. You never pry into his past, nor do you force him to answer personal questions regarding Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun. If you ever notice the way he lingers near your quarters, you don’t say a word. And if you hear his subdued moans as his hand moves in time with a picturesque fantasy of your nude form pressed against his, you keep your mouth shut. You are everything he could ever want and like the very ideal the Raiden Shogun wishes to uphold he wants to pursue an eternity with you.

Your movements are far from the precision you normally have when moving about the ship and it’s a very odd dance. Yet you spin him and he follows your unusual lead like an animal with tunnel vision. For a taut moment, the background noise melts away into obscurity and the two of you are the only people in existence. He stares at your face the entire time, ignoring the way your sandals crush his feet or the instances where he unintentionally returns the gesture. It’s certainly an awkward sort of waltz, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And in this moment where no one else matters, he sees your radiance in the glow of the moon. You truly are worthy of the sun and the stars beyond and should you verbalize an outlandish wish of that nature he has no choice but to follow through.

Like a leaf swept up in an autumnal breeze, reminiscent of a ronin who lacks a place in the world, Kazuha allows himself to be carried on by the winds that rustle the sails and tangle through your hair, painting you in a backdrop that’s heaven handcrafted by the pickiest god. And where you have your wits, a lively Vision, and your confidence, he only has his blade, a dull Vision, and an inkling of hope. But that’s really all he requires.

[linorachas]

for the weekend. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff & smut  ⁍ word count — 4.8k words ⁍ details — established relationship, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, d/s undertones, mention of the word “cockslut”, chan worship, you’re both really in love ⁍ a/n — hello! i’m a new writing blog for skz. :D this is my first work here, so i’d love to hear your thoughts. i accept criticism, but please be nice i am trying my best ㅠㅠ part 2 is here! thank you to everyone who let me know that they wanted a part 2! ♥️ ⁍ summary — After a long week of hard work, you finally spend a weekend with Chan.

Friday - 2:03 am

 Your footsteps are light and quick as you rush down the hall, duffel bag bumping against your back as it bounces from your movements. 

You were sweaty, sticky, and overall about to pass out, but there was a wide grin on your face once you stopped in front of a very familiar studio door.

You had just finished helping create a choreography for an idol group, a whole day of repeating dance moves and drawing positions on papers. 

Your out was supposed to be at 7, but you had done overtime with the intent to clear your schedule tomorrow. You would have to do overtime on Monday again, but that didn’t matter right now.

All that matters was the boy behind this door who was working just as hard as you are.

Inside, Chan was hunched over his desk, headphones in, hand cramping as he furiously jots down some notes. 

He wasn’t required to stay in, no, he could’ve left hours ago and be asleep right now. But going home without you always bothered him, so he had decided to stay until his girlfriend was finished. 

He knew you felt the same, though. You once told him that you would just be tossing and turning in bed if you went home without him. When the tables are turned and he was the one doing the overtime, you would doze on a chair beside him while he worked, or spend some time at the studio yourself.

Chan had checked the time just a few minutes ago, and he knew that you were already on your way here. Unfortunately, he had made the mistake of starting on a new project while waiting, so it would bother him if he left this unfinished while he rested at home. 

So now he was cramming, rushing to finish at least a draft. 

 You, on the other side of the door, didn’t bother with knocking, and just pushed the door open slowly. 

 Your eyes immediately find your boyfriend’s busy form; Chan’s hair was covered by a reversed snapback, basketball short clad legs tucked Indian style on top of his chair. 

 You feel a tug on your heartstrings as you watch Chan work hard for the sake of a free day tomorrow, a free day for you two.

 You smile at the way Chan taps the pen on the desk to an unfamiliar beat or taps it to the snapback on his head, before going back to writing again. 

 Chan also does these annoyed puffs of breath every few seconds, something you found to be very endearing ever since the first day you met. 

 When Chan groans in frustration, you finally walk inside and shut the door behind you, dropping your duffel bag on the floor.

 Chan freezes and stops writing when he feels arms wrapping around his neck, but the feeling is immediately gone when his brain registers that it’s his baby. 

 You press small close mouthed kisses on Chan’s cheek before you nuzzle your head against the crook between Chan’s neck and shoulder, and a smile blooms on Chan’s face.

 “Sorry,” Chan mutters, yanking his earphones down when you stop kissing him and pull away. You don’t answer. Instead, you remove Chan’s snapback from his head and card your fingers through his hair gently. 

 Chan sighs contentedly, eyes slipping shut as he leans his head back on the chair, following the flow of your fingers. He opens his eyes again when you lean down and press a kiss to his lips, 

 his nose, 

 and then his forehead. 

 You grin at him, and despite being in an unflattering upside down angle, Chan thinks you look absolutely gorgeous like this.

 Barefaced, happy, and in love.

 “It’s okay, Channie,” you finally say, after seconds of just gazing at each other lovingly passes. “I know you’re doing it for our vacation, anyway.”

 Chan lets out a small laugh as you fix the cap back on his head. “It’s just two days, baby.” 

 “Two days of sleeping, eating, and maybe some sex? I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a heavenly vacation to me.” You babble unashamedly, hands sliding down Chan’s torso to massage his pecs— making him squirm and laugh— before you slide them up again to massage his shoulder joints. 

 Chan sighs as he lets the feeling of your fingers relieving the aches wash over him, but then he catches sight of the mess of papers on his desk, and a frustrated frown replaces his smile.

 “Will you wait for me?” Chan asks hopefully. Though deep inside, he kind of already knew the answer.

 Still, his heart starts to beat too fast and his stomach fills with too many butterflies when you wrap your arms around his neck again, pressing your cheek against Chan’s own as you mutter, “of course. You know I always will.”

 And then you seal the promise with a kiss. Chan pretends he doesn’t chase after your lips when you pull away.

 He goes back to work with you still wrapped around him, and after a few moments, you start to shift. Chan’s free hand quickly darts up to your arms that are slowly loosening, so you stay still, alarmed. 

 “Stay.” Chan mumbles distractedly, eyes darting hurriedly across the papers. It’s selfish, yes, making you stand behind him for God knows how long, but Chan had always worked better when you were this close. 

 You would have seen the embarrassed blush that dotted across Chan’s cheeks if you weren’t so flustered yourself, hiding your face in Chan’s shoulder blades again when you fail to suppress a wide grin. 

 So you busy yourself with basking in Chan’s warmth instead, squeezing Chan tight every once in a while just to see him squirm and attempt to glare at you. 

 Suddenly, all your sore muscles from dancing were gone, and you were content to stand behind your boyfriend for as long as he wanted you to. 

 When Chan is finally finished and you’ve shut off all the lights, locked the door and gathered all your belongings— Chan throws an arm around your shoulder while you wrap your own arm around your boyfriend’s waist. 

 You both giggle, talk in stage whispers, and stumble down the corridor like drunken fools despite being completely sober. You hold onto each other like it was your last time to do so, as if you were reassuring yourselves that the other is still there.

 For extra measure, Chan presses his lips against your temple, whispering a sweet “I love you, Y/N. So so, so much.” that only the two of you could hear as you go out into the cold night, wrapped in each other’s warmth. 

 The streetlights look like stars in his eyes, and you ask yourself again how lucky you are to have fallen in love with Bang Chan.

Saturday - 2:54 pm

 3:16 am, you and Chan are pressed against each other as you settle into a deep sleep, blankets tucked around your bodies to shield yourselves from the cold. 

 4:23 am, you accidentally kick the blanket off the bed, leaving the both of you exposed to the cold temperature of the room. You shiver in your sleep. 

 Chan wakes up long enough to grumble about the blanket and do a half assed search around the room, just to end up pulling you closer to his chest and wrap both his arms around you. It doesn’t do much for Chan himself, but you stop shivering then, so Chan falls back asleep with a smile on his face.

 8:44 am, Chan’s phone rings. The ringtone almost rivals Chan’s snores, and the combination of the two sounds force you to wake up, annoyed. Chan was in the middle of the bed, arms and legs splayed out, while you were on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest. 

 You only have the energy to lift your head up, glare at the sun peeking from behind the curtain and at Chan’s phone, before you drop your head back on Chan’s chest heavily, startling the said boy awake. 

 Chan stops mid snore and the sound is so funny that you feel a smile tug on your lips, but then his  phone rings again.

 “Yah, Chan-ah,” you whine, wiggling upwards to bury your face in Chan’s neck. “Make it stop.”

 “Sorry babe,” Chan groans, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes as he cups the back of your head. His free hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand, pressing it to his ear after 3 sad attempts of hitting the answer button. 

 Your hearing is muffled because of your position and Chan’s hand covering your head, and you only manage to hear a “no, no, we can’t, we’re sleeping in. Sorry Bin,” before you drown out the conversation entirely, the vibrations of Chan’s voice lulling you back to sleep. 

 Finally, at 2:54 pm, you wake up again, but this time you’re really awake. 

 Your stomach is grumbling and you’re so hungry it‘s starting to hurt. You try to move, but find yourself unable to because of the limbs restricting from doing so.

 This time, one of Chan’s legs is on top of you, covering your lower half entirely. Chan’s head is lying on the pillow, and there’s drool on his chin and it’s gross, so you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it quickly. Thankfully he didn’t drool on your hair.

 Chan’s holding your other arm to his own chest as if it was a teddy bear, his body curled into your side snugly. When you lean back slightly to take a proper look at him, Chan’s nose twitches like a rabbit and the grip on your arm tightens. You snort.

 “Chan. Channie,” you mutter before you bury your face in Chan’s hair, squeezing the sleeping boy in an attempt to wake him up gently. 

 Chan lets out a grunt, but doesn’t do much to prove he’s really awake. You sigh. 

 What the hell are you supposed to do now?

 It takes you more than a few attempts, but you finally release your arm from Chan’s grip. However, just when you were about to start working on his leg, Chan suddenly slips his own arm under you, turning you over so you end up on top of him again. He does it so easily that it startles you, cheeks burning red at the sudden display of strength.

 “It’s our day off, give me one more hour.” Chan grumbles. He was still half asleep so most of his sentence was incoherent, but if anyone was an expert in sleepy Chan language, it was you.

 You glance at the wall clock on the other side of the room, grimacing once you realize why you were starving. “Shit. We really wasted the whole day away by sleeping, dude. It’s 3 pm.”

 “Stop calling me dude.” He huffs. “And it’s a vacation, Y/N. Let me sleep. Let us sleep.” 

 You pout when you get your own words thrown back at you, and then it’s as if Chan has a sixth sense for your pouting, because he’s suddenly lifting his head up to press a kiss to your chin, eyes still closed.

 You’re guessing he was aiming for your lips, but he was fighting a hard battle between properly kissing you and falling back asleep. It was endearing.

 “Love you,” Chan mutters groggily, and was about to drop his head back on the pillow when you stop him with a proper kiss to the lips. It’s a very awkward angle, but you both blush and giggle as if it’s your first kiss.

 “Mmmmhm,” Chan pulls away after a few seconds of close mouthed kisses, eyes now blinking open as he frowns at you. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”

 You giggle, leaning up on your elbows to take a proper look at him, heart squeezing at the way his lips were pouted. His bed head looked like a bird’s nest and his eyes were swollen. You couldn’t resist pressing another peck to his lips at the sight.

 “But I just did.” You grin, cupping Chan’s cheek as you press small, rapid kisses on his face. “Besides, it’s afternoon.”

 Chan rolls his eyes, pretending as if he wasn’t chasing your lips with every kiss. And you giggle again, because you were giddy that Chan is finally awake and you were in love with him, and those two don’t really connect, but whatever. 

 Barely a minute passes before Chan’s eyes start to slip shut again, and it’s only then that you realize you’ve been running your hand through your boyfriend’s hair unconsciously.

 “The day’s over, anyway,” Chan places a hand at the back of your head, gently leading you to his neck. He presses a kiss to your forehead then yawns, fingernails scratching your scalp gently to lure you into going back to sleep. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

 And you, you were so tempted to say yes, especially with how warm and comfortable you were in the love of your life’s arms, but then your stomach starts to wail like a dying animal, and both you and Chan wince.

 “Chan-“

 “I heard it.”

 You laugh, a loud, refreshing sound that makes Chan’s heart pump wildly, and you feel his lips form into a smile when he presses a kiss to your forehead again, longer this time.

 Chan then wraps both of his arms around your waist, turning you both over to the side. Your arms come up to lock around Chan’s neck, and your eyes meet when you look up. 

 Chan’s eyes were twinkling, and you’re not so sure if it’s because of the light behind you.

 “Hello,” Chan says casually, and you make a sound between huffing and laughing.

 “Will you at least let me go so I can make breakfast?”

 “It’s already afternoon,” Chan half-heartedly reasons, his arms tightening around you as he leans down to press another kiss to your nose.

 “Breakfast time is any time. Whoever thinks otherwise should be jailed.” 

 Chan ignores you, busy pressing a few more pecks to your cheeks, nudging your nose with his own. 

 You whine. “Come on, baby. You need to eat. I know you’re hungry too.”

 And Chan is, but he doesn’t want to leave the bed yet. He’s not pouting, he swears he isn’t, but he knows he’s making a face because you were smiling all amusedly at him again, like you were surprised he was acting this way.

 Who could blame him, really? He had a whole day off, a beautiful girl in his arms, and unlimited kisses to give and receive. Why would he leave this warm bubble without a fight?

 Chan tightens his grip and rolls again, and you were getting out of breath from laughing and trying to push him away. Your boyfriend pins you down on the bed, holding your hands above your head and intertwining your fingers together.

 “Hello,” Chan says again, grinning down at your flushed face.

 The sudden displays of strength kept catching you off guard, and your face was reddening for a multitude of reasons.

 “Hi,” you reply, albeit breathlessly, and you tilt your head up as a way of asking for a kiss. 

 Chan leans down slowly, too slowly for your liking, so you groan loudly. Chan laughs but finally presses your lips together, subconsciously loosening his grip on your hands. You free them from his grasp to cup his cheeks. 

 You can feel Chan smile against your own lips, and you only go as far as nibbling on the other’s bottom lip before you decide something and push him back.

 “Y/N,” Chan whines, chasing after you again, but you stop him with a finger to his chest and a quick peck to the lips. He stops, clearly confused.

 You push him back further, making him fall onto his side. He seems to catch on when you start straddling him, knees on other sides of his hips.

 “Oh.” Chan gapes, eyes blinking up at you stupidly. You laugh.

 “Yeah, oh.” 

 You drag the hem of his shirt up, deliberately scratching your nails against the hard muscles of his abs. Chan groans at that, hips bucking up involuntarily.

 As he busies himself with taking his shirt off properly, you start to press open mouthed kisses down his chest, tongue laving against the prominent lines of his stomach. You start sucking near the navel, leaving a big, deep purple hickey that contrasts heavily against his pale white skin.

 Chan hadn’t said anything since you started, but he was leaning back on his elbows, dark eyes following your every move. You felt the way his eyes followed the curve of your body as you adjusted to kneeling so you could move further down, making you shiver. It was almost like he was touching you with how intense his stare was. But his hands stayed at his sides, calm and waiting to strike.

 You knew that would change soon.

 There was already a noticeable bulge by the time you got down to his crotch, making you bite back a smile. You know Chan could feel your amusement because he uses his feet to tickle you at your side, making you laugh.

 “Get on with it, pretty.” His tone was playful, but his hooded eyes were saying otherwise.

 You listened obediently though, because at the end of the day, all you really wanted was to be good for Chan. All you wanted was to pleasure him, to make him feel good, to let him know that you wanted him to be happy. 

 And if a mindblowing orgasm from a morning wood blowjob was the way to success… well.

 You don’t waste any time in taking off his boxers, desperate to see the cock you loved. It wasn’t a secret that you were a bit of a cockslut, but it was technically Chan’s fault. When he slid his cock in you the first time and made you cum so hard you almost passed out, you were ruined for anybody else ever.

 You loved him inside you, loved him pounding so deep into you you felt the head of his cock in your cervix, and also loved him when he took it slow and let you feel every inch— every vein that lined along his fat cock. You loved when you were at his mercy.

 But you also loved when you had that same cock in your mouth, filling you all the way to your throat. You were guessing you had a bit of an oral fixation, since sometimes you craved the weight of it at random times of the day. You just wanted his cock in your mouth, and you knew Chan was more than happy to oblige.

 Chan’s sizeable cock slapped up against his stomach when you finally took away its confines, precum smearing against his skin. Chan’s fingers tighten against the sheets when you lean forward and kitten-licked that same precum off, his cock bumping against your cheek.

 “Baby,” he exhaled, brows furrowing. “Are you playing games right now?”

 “No,” you answer, but as soon as the word left your mouth, you flattened your tongue and licked a thick stripe up at the side of his cock, making Chan groan and throw his head back.

 You swirl your tongue around the angry purple tip of his cock, letting his precum coat your tongue. But you don’t swallow it, not yet. You let the liquids fall back onto his cock, using it as lubricant for your hand that comes up to stroke him. 

 Chan grunted, bucking up into the tight space of your hand as his head lolled forward. He watches you with lidded eyes, and you tilt your head so he could feel the hot exhale of your breath on his cock. Predictably, you felt it twitch.

 A hand comes to cup the back of your head, and you look up through your lashes to see Chan licking his lips and swallowing. 

 “Come on,” he urges, hand sliding down to tilt your head up. He slides his thumb into your mouth and your lips close around it immediately, sucking. Chan shudders. “Be good for me.”

 And you obey.

 As soon as Chan’s thumb slipped out of your mouth, you replaced it with his cock, tongue flattening as you took half of him in your mouth. Your lips stretched obscenely, Chan’s girth and length stretching your mouth to its limits. 

 But instead of deterring you, it only made you moan. You already felt so full even if you hadn’t taken his entire cock in your mouth yet, almost gagging when you felt the tip nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up, watching as Chan’s jaw tightened, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

 You bob your head up and down slowly, understanding that Chan was letting you take the lead. His hand stayed cupped at the back off your head, a reassuring constant as you did your best to breathe through your nose. 

 The slick sounds your mouth was making echoed along with Chan’s muttered curses in your quiet room, the only other sound being the traffic outside.

 “Shit. Shit,” Chan exhaled, chest heaving. He was always much more sensitive in the morning. “Your mouth, baby. That fucking mouth.”

 And much more noisier.

 “So good for me.” Chan whispers, voice rough and heated. He brushes the back of his hand against your hollowed cheeks, then cards his fingers through your hair so he could see your face properly. “Look at you, my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning. What a sight.”

 You moan at his words, and the vibrations that come from your throat make him twitch in your mouth. Chan refrains from bucking his hips, but he slips up sometimes when gets too lost in the pleasure. There’s an apology on his lips every time, but you shut him up quickly with a harsh suck to his throbbing cock.

 You know he’s close when the twitching gets more frequent and his thighs start tensing around your head, his hand going from tugging on your hair instead of just resting there. Chan gets quieter as well, his nasty praises trailing off to grunts and broken moans.

 Your jaw was aching, but the quiet gasps of your name spurs you on more than you’d like to admit. Because as much as you loved to be under Chan’s mercy, something about him losing his mind over your mouth and saying your name like it was his last prayer did things to you. The slick heat between your legs reminded you of it.

 His pleasure was your pleasure.

 You’re forcibly pulled off when Chan tugs your head back, and you’re just about to complain when Chan suddenly sits up and grabs his cock with his free hand, keeping the tip of it in your mouth. 

 “Look at me.” He hisses, and you obey immediately. 

 You look up at him through your lashes, suckling at the head of his cock as much as he let you. He jerks himself off quickly, using your spit as lube and groaning at the lewd sight of your lips wrapped around him and the feeling of your tongue insistently brushing against the underside of his cock.

 “I’m gonna cum, baby, shit-“ he grunts through gritted teeth, and you squirm as you watch his abs and arms flex with each movement. 

 Chan had his head thrown back now, sweat dripping down his throat and his pale skin reddening as he got closer and closer to his release. 

 “I’m gonna cum in this pretty mouth. This perfect mouth, only mine to use, hm? Just mine and mine alone, fuck- god, fuck!“

 You tug Chan’s hand away and swallow his cock down your mouth again as soon as the first spurt of his cum hits your tongue, making him flinch. 

He’s clearly torn between tugging your head away due to  the oversensitivity, or pushing his cock farther down your mouth. His hand flexes in your hair, unsure of what to do. 

 You decide for him.

 Your throat works against him, struggling to swallow his cum and keep his cock in your mouth at the same time. You were determined to milk his whole orgasm out of him, and you weren’t going to stop until he was dry and shaking. The moans Chan lets out this time are almost close to whimpers as he falls back against the mattress, hips bucking uselessly. 

 “Y/N,” he whines, gasping for breath, and you rub your hands up and down his hips to ground him. You clean him up slowly, aware that the oversensitivity must be bordering on pain now.

 Chan groans, arms coming up to hide his reddened face.  “Baby, enough, please. Come here, come up, I want a kiss. Please.”

 You bite back a smile as you pull off his cock, sucking one last hickey to his navel and reveling in his stuttered moan. You crawl up the bed slowly, kissing the exposed part of Chan’s chin; the only area that wasn’t covered by his arms.

 “Good?” You ask, sitting on his stomach now.

 “Good?” He squawks, disbelief written all over his face when he pulls his arms away. His face was still red, as well as the upper parts of his chest. “Good?! You- god, I can’t believe you. Come here, you little minx.”

 He growls, pulling you into a bruising kiss. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks again, moaning as he bit on your lips and sucked on your tongue like a starving man. Chan’s hands grope your breasts through your shirt, thumbing your slowly hardening nipples and making you squirm. 

 When he pulls away from the kiss and trails his lips down your neck, his hands move lower as well. He hooked his thumbs in your shorts, one second from pulling them down and having his way with you. But-

 Speaking of starving.

 “Channie,” you whine, stopping his hands. He freezes immediately, pulling back to look at you. Concern was written all over his face, and you would have cooed if you didn’t have more pressing matters at hand. 

 You frowned. “I’m really hungry.”

 Chan gapes at you, stunned. He blinks rapidly, eyes going from your frowning face to his hands by your shorts. “I- are you- do you not want me to return the favor? You just gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

 You snort, knowing he was exaggerating, but Chan looked dead serious. You roll your eyes then, locking your lips in a heated kiss again for a few seconds to satiate your needy boyfriend. You keep your forehead pressed together when you pull back slightly to look in his dazed eyes, still filled with want. 

 You drag the tip of your index finger across his lip, smirking. “I’ll make you a deal. If you put some food in my stomach, I promise I’ll let you fuck me six ways to sunday.” You grind down, making him hiss. “It’s been too long since you made me cry, no?”

 Chan’s eyes darkened. You licked your lips.

 But then, the next thing you know, the world was upside down, and you were being carried outside your bedroom over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

 “Bang Chan!” You squeak, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “Put me down, you crazy idiot! What the hell are you doing!”

 “Putting some food in your stomach.” Chan replied simply, like that was the answer to all your questions. “No take backs.”

 You pause for a second, then find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chan was still naked. You smack his ass repeatedly, making him yelp on the way to the kitchen. 

 “You’re insane.” You laugh as he finally sets you down on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his neck when he squeezes himself in between your thighs.

 “You love me.” He giggles, looking too smug for your own liking. But then his face softens, and you blink in surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your lips,

 then your nose,

 then your forehead,

 then your lips again.

 “And I love you . More than anything.”

 It’s the softest kiss you’ve shared since you woke up, and that was saying something. You look up at Chan, dazed at the sudden switch of mood. He was looking at you tenderly, eyes twinkling as he smiled, dimples popping out.

 Your heart pounded in your chest again, beating so hard you felt like it was going to come out of you. You love him. You were so in love with Bang Chan that it hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life in his arms, just like this. Always.

 “Now,” Chan grinned wide, stepping back as he clapped his hands twice. He was looking very determined, arms crossed and bulging over his chest as he looked around the kitchen. 

 Your eyes meet, and your breath catches in your throat when he smirks.

 “Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

[cosmos-coma]

Hi! Popping in to once more tell you how much I love your fics 🥰 And if you'd like, I would love to request something fluffy with the "playing with the other's fingers" prompt for Eskel, please : )

Twiddling the night away

A/N: Omg, thank you! I adore your stuff so much so I’m really happy I could write this for you!

Pairing: Eskel x reader

WC: 0.6k

Warnings: gn!reader (no pronouns), forced sleep (consented), unbeta’d.

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“Mmph” a frustrated grunt came from beside the witcher, then another, and another. The body beside him might as well be roasting over a fire the way it kept rolling every few seconds. Glancing out at the sky beyond the window of the inn he guessed that it was only about two in the morning.

“Ugh…” came one last groan and an irritated flop of a head on a pillow.

Eskel couldn't help but smile into the dark room, dimly lit by only the dying flames that danced their last over the hot embers of the hearth. “Can’t sleep, Dear?” 

You let out one last agitated sigh and turned in his general direction, there wasn’t enough light for your normal eyes to make out the details, but you’d know that vague and square-shaped jaw everywhere. 

“Uh, try an inch or two upwards…” Eskel corrected.

“Oh, whoops…” you said with a small chuckle, looking up a few inches more. “But no. I can’t sleep. My ankle is killing me and it’s hard to get comfortable and I'm just getting tangled in the sheets now…” you frowned, curling into your beloved witcher and resting your head in the little divot where his arm met his torso. You hated to complain like this, you really did, but your ankle was throbbing from when you had sprained it earlier and it only made it harder to get comfortable. 

“Can’t you just… Axii me to sleep or something? That would be easier..” You mumbled against his bare skin, brushing a sleepy kiss against him. 

“It certainly would stop the complaining,” he said just trying to poke fun at your woeful tone. 

“Oh, stop...” you flicked his chest with a thick, solid thud and tugged his arm tighter around you. “I don’t mean to be a bother, I'm just tired and frustrated…” you said quietly, a bit of defeated-ness sinking into your words. 

“I never said you were a bother…”. His kiss grazed your forehead between remarks, pulling a relaxed breath out of you and causing your eyes to flutter closed for a moment as your body relaxed.  “I understand you’re just tired and sore, Y/n.. you’ve seen me in the same state. But do you really want me to use Axii on you…?”

“Kind of… it won’t hurt?” You looked up at him in curiosity, legs shifting again to get your ankle comfortable.

“Not a bit.” He said with a shake of his head. “Sleep well, my Dear” with a gentle wave of his hand and a soft glow you felt yourself being pulled backwards into the pleasant darkness of sleep. 

Eskel waited a few minutes before waving his hand gently in front of your face. When you didn’t respond he smiled a touch and settled deeper into the bed. With a delicate touch, he brought both arms snugly around you. You breathed in soft huffs, pleasant sleet blanketing your body and mind. With great care, he lifted your hand off his chest and began playing with your fingers. 

Slender digits on only slightly calloused hands stood in contrast against his large rough palms. Barely a mar or scar had yet to grace your skin since you’ve been with him and he wanted to keep it that way.

A soft huff came from your lips and Eskel paused until you relaxed once more. Chapped lips brushed against your knuckles as the witcher brought them closer. He loved when you were in these deep periods of sleep; when he could just lay quietly and learn every line, nook, and cranny of your form.

Comfortable heat cupped his face as his kiss was cradled by your relaxed hand. “My darling dear” he mumbled into the well of your palm before laying your hand down over his heart. He felt the slow steady boom of his own chest through your hand as he held you, the rhythm pulling him easily into comfort and sleep.

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Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight

[bratkook]

cozy thief. (m) jjk

pairing. jeon jungkook x reader genre. smut, fluff, mutual pining word count. 5.1k warnings. roommate!au, cuteness!! lots of kissing & heavy petting, hand in pants action and messy/needy humping from jungkook lol  summary. a rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out author’s note. requested for #30 from this prompt list! thank you for sending this in 🖤 (requests now closed)

The bubbling water is the only thing you focus on as you rest against the countertop, hands tightly holding onto your fluffy blanket of choice to trap all of the warmth in before it could escape. The rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows has become background noise now, already accustomed to the sound that woke you up hours ago.

It’s therapeutic really, your fuzzy socks sliding along the floor as you pull out your favorite mug, grabbing the hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows from their rightful spot in the pantry. You don’t even think about the ridiculous electric bill you’ll be getting from how high you currently have the heater cranked up, freezing to death was not worth saving a few bucks. 

Jungkook would agree, loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about walking around the apartment in a snow coat and scarf. Sure you were currently bundled up as if the place wasn’t maintained at a steady 75 degrees, but from the time spent living together he had grown to learn that the minute there was rain or snow you would pull out the coziest blankets regardless of temperature. 

“Can you make me one too?” He speaks up as he leans against the mini island, smiling when your blanket clad body jumps at the unexpectant sound of his voice. 

The spoon clanks against the mug as you stop stirring the hot chocolate, turning your head back to take a peek at your roommate. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Jungkook laughs now, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he rounds the island to grab himself a mug. “What, should I wear a bell around my neck to let you know when I’m nearby?”

“Yeah actually, you sneak up on me all the time. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 

You eye his mug of choice, a Friends one that actually belonged to you, a little hard to believe considering it was the one he always used without fail. It was admittedly your fault for forcing him to binge watch the whole show on Netflix before it got taken off, but for someone who claimed he couldn’t stand it all he sure did cradle the themed mug with utmost care. 

“You’re easy to scare, can’t blame me for seeing an opportunity and taking it.” Sliding the mug in your direction he rests on his elbows, observing you as you pour in the hot water, mixing the cocoa powder and smiling when you get the first inhale of it. 

“Scare me some more and I’m revoking this mug privilege.” Jungkook knows it's an empty threat, the roll of his eyes calling your bluff so you just sigh, clutching the bag of mini marshmallows and bringing them close. “Yay or nay for the marshmallows?”

“Yay, what do I look like, an animal?” He scoffs, hand urging you to top off his drink with more sweets, a charming smile spreading out onto his face when you slide the mug over. 

Just as he’s about to take a sip you walk off, both hands cupping your drink as you slide your way out of the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?”

You freeze at the doorway, turning around with a confused face, “To binge watch some movies in the living room? The vent by the couch makes it the best place to get toasty.”

“Mind if I join you?”

The audacity of him to ask as if he didn’t regularly crash your binging parties, still you nod your head before turning back around and continuing your trek, hearing the soft patter of his bare feet against the floor. 

“Why did you beg me to get you those cow slippers for your birthday if you refuse to wear them?” You wonder as you settle onto the couch, adjusting your blanket to circle around your lap as you bring your knees up. 

Jungkook sighs dramatically as he sits beside you, bringing his bare feet up and shoving them underneath the pile of blanket around you, laughing loudly when you yell at the feeling of his cold feet against your silk pajama pants. “Because they’re cute, besides I don’t need slippers because my roommate has the best blankets.”

Accepting your fate you simply glare at him, detesting the way he could look as good as he does while attempting to push your buttons. The smug smile against the rim of the mug shows that he knows he can get away with it, a playful wink being the icing on top as he reaches for the remote. 

You ignore the way your heart skips as he clicks onto your profile, already sorting through your favorite movies, knowing they were starred and saved under your list. As he passes Legally Blonde you gasp, almost undetected but he had been waiting for any reaction to know what to pick. 

“You know, this has become one of my favorite movies now.” He quietly confesses, pressing play and setting the remote down onto the coffee table. 

“Seriously?”

Jungkook hums as he takes another sip, eyes focused on the beginning scenes of Legally Blonde. This was definitely one of your comfort movies, even if he didn’t end up crashing your movie night he could still hear each scene from his bedroom, almost knowing every single line from how often you played it. 

He proves his point as the movie continues, the two of you slowly sinking further into the couch, no longer caring about him using your blanket as makeshift slippers as you laugh each time he recites a line, adding his own commentary as he goes. The mugs of hot chocolate are drained dry, pushed onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands that somehow wind up playing with your own in a mindless motion, slowly tracing down your fingers to gently clasp them together before pulling apart and repeating. 

Just as Elle Woods takes the floor to question the witness, the entire room goes black, Jungkook’s hands freezing on top of yours as you wait for a moment. With the loss of power you instantly feel the warmth begin to fade away, the vent right beside the couch no longer providing you the toasty escape you wanted. 

“It was getting to my favorite part.” He groans out, resting his head back onto the couch, something you can just barely see in the darkness. 

“Fuck is the whole block out of power?”

Jungkook pulls his hand away from yours as he stands up, knocking his knee into the coffee table and laughing as he tries to navigate through the dark living room. His silhouette makes it to the window, peering through it to see if maybe it was just your building that was shit out of luck, but the entire block is in fact dark. 

“Yup, it’ll probably come back soon though.”

After two more hours and another mug of hot chocolate it became very clear that the power wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Both of your phones lay screen down with the flashlight on as you finish up your drink once more, tightening the blanket around you now that the cold is becoming more prevalent. 

“We’re gonna freeze to death.”

“No we’re not, it's a rain storm not a blizzard outside. We should probably call it a night though, the floors are getting cold as fuck.”

He had still refused to put on his slippers, allowing the cold tile from the kitchen to turn his feet into icicles. “You act like you don’t own socks or slippers.”

Jungkook merely waves you off with a laugh, grabbing his phone from its spot on the counter. “Let me live, good night!” His flashlight sways with every step, illuminating the trail before he disappears behind his bedroom door, leaving you with no other option than to retreat into your own room. 

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, the rapid pattering of the rain against the window filling up the space and its no longer as therapeutic as it used to be now that you can feel the cold it brings with it.

Lighting up the candle on your nightstand, hoping the smell of gingerbread will convince your mind you’re not freezing, you settle into your bed. The feeling of your cold sheets against you has you whining, quickly pulling up the blankets at the end of the bed to warm you up as you ball into yourself. 

It's only a few minutes later that you hear the gentle knocking against your door, the top of your head just barely peeking up from the mountain of blankets as Jungkook peers inside your room. The words he wants to say leave him when he takes note of the way you're being swallowed whole by different patterns. 

“Holy shit, can you even breathe?”

“You wish you were this comfortable.” You laugh, tightening your grip on the blankets and pulling them snugly under your chin. 

He shuts the door behind him as he steps further into your room, smiling when he gets the whiff of your candle. “That's actually why I’m here, can I steal a blanket?”

The idea of parting with even one of your blankets sounds like a sin, a frown etched onto your face as you contemplate it. “If you think I’m gonna give you one of these after you refused to use the slippers I bought you, you’re crazy.”

“C’mon,” he whines, sitting on the edge of the bed and toppling over to bury his face against the warmth, fingers clutching on when you try to wiggle him off of your legs.

“No, if you take one you’re gonna fuck up the balance I have going on right now.”

“Fine,” he grunts, but just when you think he’ll give up he starts to crawl over you, long limbs making their way to the other side of the bed. You feel the cold instantly as he peels off the comforter from the right side, making himself right at home as he slides underneath it in search of warmth. “We’ll share then.”

With the way he shimmies around, finding the best position to get comfortable, you know there's no way you can shake him. He smiles into the sheets when you grumble out a fine and turn over, not trusting yourself to be able to stare at his face from a close proximity and do something you’d regret. 

A soft exhale leaves your lips as you force your eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in your chest as he inches closer so his legs don’t slip out from the blankets. You and Jungkook were roommates, and friends now underneath it all, but before you had crossed into friendship territory you realized you had a teeny tiny crush on him. 

When you had first moved in he had a girlfriend, a girl you rarely ever saw since he preferred to go to her place, so it helped tame down the crush. But once they broke up and he began spending all of his time at home, the small bursts of his personality you would see lit that crush back up. It was always hard to tell if the way he behaved around you was just the way he normally acted or if he maybe had a small interest in you as well. 

Forcing your mind from wandering deeper into fantasyland you nuzzle further into your pillow, pulling more of the blankets with you as you try to fall asleep. Jungkook feels the cold nip at his exposed ankle, huffing and flipping over to look at you with a small smile, the stolen blankets bundled around you nice and tight. 

“Steal the blanket again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” Is the threat he makes as his fingers clutch onto the top layer of blanket and tug it back. It's a threat you don’t take lightly, gaze narrowing as you turn your head to glare at him. 

“You wouldn’t…”

His brows raise up at the challenge, jaw ticking out as he looks at you and before you can even react, he’s attacking, maneuvering himself around until he’s skillfully slipping his cold ass feet underneath the hem of your pants. You feel the cold instantly, a squeal of protest leaving you as you try to kick him away. 

“Who the fuck sleeps with no socks in this weather!”

“Me, which is why I need the blankets you thief!” He laughs out, continuing to try to yank the blankets back now that you were distracted, pulling the soft fabric out of your fists as you start to admit defeat. With a small cheer of success he pulls the warmth up and over the both of you like a little fort, his eyes crinkling up in a smile as he stares at you, now positioned right on top of you. 

Small pants escape your mouth as you slow your breathing, wide eyes blinking up at him as he refuses to move. The bed dips on either side of you as he holds himself up, lips still spread out in a smile, getting wider when he sees the way your eyes flicker down to them before looking back. 

You wanted to kiss him, he knew this, had known of your crush since the very beginning. Jungkook had taken note of the way you would stumble over words whenever you spot him leaving the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, enjoying the flustered look on your face, that being the main reason he did it so often. 

You thought you were slick, letting your eyes trace over the lines of muscle until it slipped behind the towel, but he simply let you get away with it, meeting your flustered gaze with that bunny smile you had grown to love. But as he hovers over you now there's no way he can pretend he doesn't notice the way your starry eyes stare at him, how you subtly lick your lips over. 

With a small tilt to his head he finally breaks the silence, whispering gently inside of the little cocoon he had made. “I really want to kiss you.” 

That gets him the reaction he wanted, the small gasp filling the air as your mouth drops open a tiny bit. “What?”

“Your lips look so soft, wanna kiss them.” His voice drops to a murmur, slow and husky as the words drawl out. 

He wants to kiss you, something you’ve been dreaming of for months, and now your mind is betraying you as it struggles to unscramble the words needed to respond. 

“Can I?” He asks, soft eyes looking directly at you and when you nod your head he tsks in disapproval, “Need to hear you say it love.”

The pet name makes you melt into your sheets, finally giving him a response as your brain releases your voice, “Y-yes, please kiss me.”  

Jungkook smiles in appreciation before slowly inching forward, nose gently nudging against yours as he swoops in. Your eyes flutter shut when the softness of his lips press against yours, kissing back instantly at the first touch, your mind whirling at the intoxicating feeling. Jungkook can feel his heartbeat quicken when you let out a small sigh, your shy hands gaining courage and sliding up his sides until you’re cupping his face. 

He winces at the icy feel of your fingers on his cheeks, the soft breaths of his laughter making you smile in between kisses, teeth knocking together as it begins to turn messy, the two of you just wanting more of each other now that the line has finally been crossed. 

Jungkook lets you bring him in closer, balancing on his elbows as he slots himself between your thighs, the soft smacks of your lips blending in with the light crackle of the candle and the rain from outside. 

A gentle nip of your teeth on his bottom lip earns you the first groan, the second coming when you trace your tongue along the seam of his mouth, slowly licking your way inside until it’s gently tangled against his own. Jungkook can feel his heart thrumming in his ears now, the realization that he was finally kissing you making his entire body warm up. 

The way you had behaved with him, calling him bro, punching his shoulder whenever he told jokes in an act to force yourself from ruining the friendship, made him believe that this would never happen. He didn’t want to come across as the typical cocky boy who swore he could win everyone over but the way you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers moving to grasp around his neck to bring him even closer when he unconsciously rolls his hips into yours makes him feel like he just did. 

Your wishful thinking had been true, the sweet gestures he did in day to day life stemming from the small inkling of a crush, something that had been planted the minute he started spending more time at home and around you. At first he thought nothing of it, chalking it up to enjoying spending time with his new friend, but soon enough he discovered he preferred to stay in with you, join you on your random quests to hunt for a new place to eat at, ignoring any other girl who showed any interest in him. 

As the two of you continue to kiss inside the small makeshift fort, the air becomes stuffy, Jungkook pulling away with a small laugh. “Wait, can’t breathe.”

You let go of his neck and paw the blankets off your faces, the cool air of your bedroom finally being welcomed as you catch your breath. 

“Better?” you question, smiling when he nods at you. “Good, now kiss me again.”

He doesn’t need you to tell him twice, lips cutting off the end of your sentence urgently, feeling the way you smile against him, your leg hooking over his hips like second nature. Jungkook feels like his head is spinning, the way your fingers move to rake along his hair, the soft gasps and sighs passed between you, he feels like a goner, the tipping point being your hips rutting up into his. 

Both of you pause at the sensation, Jungkook moaning into your mouth as your clothed core grinds along the slowly growing erection pressed against you. “Y/N, don’t tease me.”

“Why?” you breathe out, pressing kisses along the side of his mouth and jaw as you repeat the motion, the usual fear of him not feeling the same long gone from your mind. 

He drops himself further until his face is buried in your neck, goosebumps flaring out as his breath hits your skin when he speaks. “I’m trying to be sweet.” he murmurs, kissing your neck softly. 

“You are being sweet,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his hip, smiling when he groans while you once again rut up into him. “Am I not being sweet? Just wanna make you feel good, Kook.”

Of course you were sweet, you always have been, it was the main reason his heart started to skip around you, why he clung onto your mug like a safety net, wanting to keep a small part of you with him. If you wanted to make him feel good he was in no position to refuse, wanting to reciprocate the sweet gesture instead. 

Jungkook lifts his head up, dark waves falling over his face as he stares at you, wanting to see the look on your face as he gives the first roll of his hips into yours. He sees the way your teeth bite down onto your lower lip, pillowing the soft flesh out, mouth opening up to let out a gasp as he repeats the motion. There's never been a time where he’s been more thankful for a power outage than right now. 

“Keep going,” you urge him on, sighing beautifully when he rocks against you again, hips nudging the leg hooked around his waist higher up with each slowly thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He sighs, taking a moment to fully admire you laid out underneath him, eyes sparkling as you stare up at him, mouth slightly parted as you groan at the small tingles of pleasure starting up inside of you. 

“Wanna feel you.” The confession hangs in the air for a second, the trailing of your hand down his covered chest, fingertips tickling along the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats, is what finally brings him back. His moment of admiration being broken as your hands slips past and gently grasps his hardened cock, the expected feeling of his underwear nowhere to be found because not only did Jungkook refuse to wear socks he also refused to wear underwear. 

Your eyes widen at his size, already a nice handful and slowly growing the longer you hold it in your palm. As you give him a small pump you feel the exhaled grunt he lets out fan across your skin, his eyes falling shut as he pants out your name. 

Jungkook gasps as your palm rolls over the head of his cock, thumb rubbing along his slit and dragging the beads of precum down his length. With a shaky hand he trails down your chest, slipping past your pants and underwear. A pleased hum escapes him as he feels how wet you are, fingers sliding along your folds, collecting your arousal before coming back up to circle around your clit. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips jutting up at the tiny jolts of pleasure that spark each time his fingers circle around your bundle of nerves. This was definitely not how you thought your night would play out, still partially thinking you’re dreaming with your roommate asleep beside you but each time you blink the visual of his face inches from yours only gets clearer. 

“How's this?” he whispers, eyebrow cocked up as he waits for a response, the tantalizing motion of his hands making your mind scramble once more, back arching up towards him as he applies a bit more pressure. Jungkook knows what he’s doing, the way his fingers find the right rhythm to leave you whimpering only to slow down right after, just because he likes the frustrated look etched onto your face. 

A pout forms on your lips, your hands tightening their hold on his cock as you give him the same treatment, and as you slowly glide your palm down and back up, fingers refusing to go near his tip he groans in vexation. 

“You’re not being nice.” Is what you manage to gasp out just before he picks up his pace once more, lips coming back down to yours in a hungry kiss, swallowing each moan as you let them out. Each pant through his nose is felt against your cheek as your own hands pick up the pace, the two of you working in tandem as the desperation starts to grow within you. 

Jungkook wishes he could see you fully, not cocooned under a mountain of blankets, and for a split second he wants to suggest pulling them off entirely but the way the cold nips at your faces kills that idea on the spot. This would just have to do until the power came back. 

“Ah shit,” he keens out in between sloppy kisses as your hands trail further down to fondle his balls, the beginning feelings of his climax creeping up embarrassingly fast. He couldn’t help himself, for months now he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you so this whole situation put his mind into overdrive. 

You were on the same boat, the warm sensation spreading throughout you as his fingers continue to pinch and roll around your aching clit. “Wait, fuck I’m close,” you whimper out, chest rising and falling rapidly as you pull away from his mouth, a small string of spit connecting you together. 

“Really?”

“Shut up don’t make fun of me,” you protest, gasping when he starts to kiss and suck along your neck. 

“I’m not,” he mumbles, his hips rutting into your palm, fingers fisting the sheets beside you. “I’m close too.”

The whiny tone to his voice has more wetness gushing out, further ruining your underwear and Jungkook feels it as he fingers glide against your skin. That's enough to spur him on, quickening his pace with just the right pressure until your limbs are tightening up, back arching as your free hand clutches Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, and he has no intentions to, smiling against your neck as your hand stutters along his length as the pleasure you feel coursing through you. Each roll of his fingers has you seeing stars in your dimly lit room, whines getting breathier each time until you’re finally coming undone with a cry of his name. 

Jungkook feels the mess you make against his fingers, gently biting your skin as he starts to rut into your palm, the small twitches your body makes as he continues to tease your sensitive nub only making his need to cum grow. 

“Y/N,” he mewls, pulling his hand out of your pants once you hum at your name, your palm trailing up his shoulder and into his hair to gently run through it. “Wanna cum.”

You bite your lips at his words, pulling your own hand out of his pants and he cries out at the loss of contact, face lifting up from your neck and the prettiest pout on his lips that you kiss away. “Cum, use me Jungkook.”

He eyes you for a moment, a subtle nod of confirmation being all he needs to slide down his sweats a bit until his cock slips out, a small sigh filling the air at being released from its confines. He licks his lips over as he grasps his cock, resting it along your core and sighing at the smooth feeling of your pants, the silk slightly cold against him, the small wet patch along it only making him shut his eyes. 

When you widen your thighs for him to slot more easily he starts to rut forward, leaning back over you with his palms beside your face once more. Jungkook pants at the sensation, the gliding of his cock against your covered pussy, the small whines you let out each time he nudges against your clit, it kickstarts his climax once more. 

“Feels good,” he grunts out, head bowing forward and pressing against your chest as he picks up the pace, hips knocking into you each time, beads of precum dampening your silk pajama set and mixing with your own arousal. 

Jungkook doesn’t care how needy he looks right now, humping you like a desperate teenager because that’s exactly how he feels. 

“Yeah, are you gonna cum for me Kook?” you whisper, caressing his hair until he’s looking at you once more, face screwed up as he teeters close to the edge. 

When he nods eagerly you hook both legs around his waist, his mouth dropping open as he moans out unabashedly. “W-wanna feel you fully next time,” he grunts, jostling your body from the force of his thrusts, your pants wrinkling up around your thighs. 

“You will,” you confirm, wanting nothing more than to actually feel his cock without the confines of clothes and blankets. “Once the power comes back.”

He chuckles at that for a second, smiling at you through the dull glow the candle provides but then his face twists up, brows pinching and jaw going slack as his hips grow sloppy. 

“F-fuck,” he drawls out as his orgasm washes over him, hips rutting against yours with less grace than before, spurts of his warm cum splashing along your pussy and onto the small patch of skin above your waistband as he works himself through it. You sigh at the feeling, cupping his cheeks as your thumbs soothe him down. 

Jungkook continues to rock against you until he’s whimpering in overstimulation, panting as he stares down at you with the dopiest smile. He turns his head to kiss at your hand by his cheek before bending down to press his lips against your in a gentle kiss. 

“Did we just get to third base?” he whispers against your lips after the two of you fully come down, laughing when you swat at his side playfully, your own laugh filling the air as he pulls back to stare at you once more. 

Suddenly your room fills with light, the two of you squinting at the brightness, the sound of the heater kicking back is followed by the warmth from the vents beginning to flow through. 

You don’t even have to look at him to know what face he’s making, your promise of letting him fully feel you once the power came back flooding his mind. “No Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his face away from yours as he inches closer like a child. 

“Why not?”

“Because you ruined my favorite pajamas.”

He laughs freely now, kneeling up until the blankets slide off his body, his eyes staring down at your pants and analyzing the mess the two of you made. “I mean, you ruined them first.”

Okay he has a point, but instead of agreeing you simply raise your foot up and nudge it against his chest until he topples to the side, allowing you to stand up from bed with no fear of the cold attacking you. Jungkook smiles against your sheets as he watches you grab new pants and underwear before slipping into your bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of snowman printed pants instead. 

“You wanna go finish Legally Blonde?” he asks, head perched up by his hand as he lays on his side, that charming smile on his face. 

“It’s like two in the morning.”

He shrugs, not caring about the time at all, just wanting to spend more time with you, already knowing the two of you would most likely end the night having a discussion about more than obvious feelings after what just happened. 

After staring at him for another moment you smile too, reaching your bed for the same trusty blanket you hand earlier and wrapping it around your body. But as he stands up from your bed you extend your covered up out for him to join you, a smile of success gracing his face. 

“Wow, you’re actually sharing with me.” he coos, leading the two of you back out into the living room. 

“Watch it, I’ll take it back.”

Jungkook simply wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before you sit onto the couch. “I know you will you cozy thief.”

[starks-hero]

I Missed You

Pairing: Stucky x Fem!Reader

Request: Hi! Could you write something about Stucky coming home after a mission to find their girl crying on the couch, late at night. They are worried, initially, but relax after she shows them a video on her phone of a cute dog or puppy? - anonymous

Summary: After one long and tiresome mission, Steve and Bucky want nothing more than to go home and cuddle up with their girl.

Word Count: 1,424

Warnings: fluff

Steve and Bucky laboured up the stairs towards their apartment, their shoulders brushing. Every single muscle ached and Steve couldn’t bite back a groan each time he was forced to put pressure on his left foot. 

They didn't say much, they were too tired for conversation. They just wanted to get home, change out of their gear and then crawl into bed with their girl.

As both men reached their door, Bucky all but collapsed against the wall as Steve fumbled with the key, lazily dragging it across the wood till it slipped snugly into the lock.

Bucky's eyes were closed but a tired smile tugged at his lips at the thought of you waiting for them on the other side of the door. He wanted to hold you so bad. To just gather you up in his arms and fall asleep with your hand gently running through his hair until the latest mission was nothing more than a distant memory.

He titled his head lazily and glanced at Steve. The blonde's expression told him he felt the same way.

As the door opened, both soldiers almost tripped over each other's feet as they hurried inside, Steve softly closing the door behind them. Bucky sighed dramatically as he was surrounded by the comforts of home, earning him a half-hearted glare from Steve.

“Quiet down, Buck. It's late.” He reminded him. “She's probably asleep.”

Bucky nodded, scratching at his beard as he followed Steve into the living room. The television was still playing lowly in the background and the boys glanced at each other questioningly. Soft smiles replaced their confused expressions when their eyes landed on the couch. Amidst the darkened room and the heaps of blankets and pillows, they could barely make out your form.

Bucky wasted no time in stepping towards you with Steve hot on his heel. God how they'd missed you.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky hummed gently. “Hope you don't mind that we made it home a little earlier than expected.”

The playfulness in his tone died out immediately as he neared you. The light illuminating from the television proved to be just enough for Bucky to make out your tear-stained cheeks and his heart almost stopped.

“Doll, what happened?” He immediately rushed to your side, hand hovering over your back as he looked you over for any sign of injury. Steve leapt forward at Bucky’s worried tone and joined you both on the couch. You frantically wiped at your eyes, trying to hide your tears as both men seated themselves on either side of you.

“Stevie, Buck-”

“It's alright, Sweetheart. We're here.” Steve comforted gently, arm wrapping around your waist as he carefully guided you into his side. “What's wrong?”

You breathed out a quiet laugh as you wiped away the last of your tears. Both Steve and Bucky were staring at you intently.

“I just missed you both,” you mumbled and you heard the boys breathe a sigh of relief. Bucky moved closer and gingerly kissed your head as Steve held you.

“We missed you too, Baby.” His hand comfortingly ran down your back, his nose grazing your jaw.

Steve placed his own kiss against your cheek and you smiled. You were sandwiched between them both, exactly where you wanted to be.

“You want to tell us what's got you so upset?” Steve urged gently, raising his eyebrows and smiling softly. The same way he always did when either you or Bucky were having a bad day.

You shook your head and waved your hand dismissively. “It's stupid, Steve. Besides, I'm fine now, it doesn't matter.”

“Hey now, don't talk like that. If it's upset you then it's not stupid. Not to us.” Steve's tone was soft and encouraging.

“Steve, I promise, I'm okay.”

Before Steve could pry any further, Bucky cut in, gently nudging you in the side.

“This wouldn't be the reason for those tears, now would it, doll?” He held up your phone for you all to see, the screen still paused on the video you'd been watching before they'd gotten home. Bucky seemed slightly amused but Steve was still staring at the screen in curiosity, confused as to what about such a wholesome video had made you so upset.

You snatched the phone from Bucky's hand and he let you. Any other day he probably would have held said phone just out of your reach, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes or press up against his chest to retrieve it. But he knew better. Now wasn't the time. Not to mention that if he did Steve would probably make him sleep on the couch as punishment.

You held the phone in your hand and refused to meet either of their gazes but Bucky was quick to snap you out of it.

“Y/N, you know you can talk to us. However simple or stupid you may think whatever's upsetting you is, you know we're here to listen.”

“Always.” Steve agreed.

You grumbled before giving in. You knew neither of them were going to leave you alone until they were sure you were okay.

“I've just been feeling down since you guys left for the mission last week.” You confessed and both men glanced at you sympathetically. “I missed you both, tonight especially. So I tried to watch some cute videos to cheer myself up and-” you glared at the adorable shepherd puppies currently gracing the phone screen. “It didn't help.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve started gently once you'd finished. “We told you to call if you needed us. Even just to talk or fall asleep with us on screen.”

“I didn't want to bother you when you were on a mission.” You admitted sheepishly and both men chuckled slightly at your words.

“Mission or not, it doesn't matter. You're our priority. Always.”

Steve released you slightly from his hold so that Bucky could pull you into him. You sighed against his shoulder. The horrid feeling that had settled in your stomach the moment both Steve and Bucky had walked out the door a little over a week ago was already dissipating. This was exactly what you needed. They were exactly what you needed.

“Why don't we take this to the bedroom?” Bucky suggested as he noticed your head contently lulling against his shoulder. He scoffed as both you and Steve turned to him with an expression that asked ‘really?’

“I meant to sleep.” He clarified and Steve couldn't help but chuckle.

“Sure you did, Punk.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond but you ended the argument before it could start with a quiet, “Sleep sounds like a good idea.” You threw in a yawn for good measure.

Bucky wordlessly nodded to Steve and they smiled. Bucky readjusted his hold on you as he lifted you from the couch and into his arms.

Steve switched off the television and assured the house was locked down for the night as Bucky carried you to the bedroom. He gingerly placed you down before stripping and clambering in next to you, his aching body almost sinking right into the mattress.

A cool mental hand settled on your waist as you rested your head on his chest. Steve wandered into the bedroom a few minutes later, smiling softly at the sight of you and Bucky curled up and already dozing off.

He kicked off his boots and pants and pulled his shirt off over his head. Sliding in behind you, he slid an arm over you, resting it just over Bucky's stomach. You were perfectly encased in-between them both.

“Steve, Bucky?” You mumbled their names quietly just as they were on the brink of sleep.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” Steve rasped and Bucky hummed against your temple.

“Can we get a dog?”

You could feel the chuckle that shook Bucky's chest at your request and Steve cracked a tired smile, shuffling closer to you.

“Think about it, that way when you two are off saving the world I won't be so lonely here on my own.” You rambled on drowsily.

“She makes a compelling case, Stevie,” Bucky smirked, cracking open an eye to glance over at the blonde. He couldn't keep the amusement from seeping into his tone.

“We'll talk about it in the morning, Baby. Just get some rest for now.” Steve yawned, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to silently put an end to the conversation.

“That's a yes.” Bucky clarified and Steve harmlessly jabbed Bucky in the gut, electing a fond chuckle. You smiled, just glad to have your boys home.

tag list: @miraclesoflove​​ @doozywoozy​​ @bakerstreethound​​ @kealohilani-tepise

[4dtk]

Hi can I request a Park Jisung oneshot with 19 (hand holding), 34+35 (hugging), 14+45 (kisses), and 17+28 (touching) please?:)

just a big chunk of fluffy domesticity. enjoy!

hand-holding, 19: playing with each other’s fingers

hugging, 34 & 35: hugging while grabbing butt, cuddle pile

kisses, 14 & 45: kissing each other breathless, sleepy kisses

touching, 17 & 28: holding the other’s chin up, feeling for each other in the dark

“jisung- sungie? you awake?” you whisper, tapping him on the cheek where you stayed cuddled up to him. his hands are resting comfortably on your butt, to support you more than fondling it as the movie rolls the credits.

“mhrhm…?” he mumbles into the space between your shoulder and neck, trying his best to blink away the fatigue with quick, irregular blinks. it makes you break into a smile, but you soon try wiggle your way out of his embrace, your main motivation in the first place.

“babe, i need to pee…” with much force, you try your best to remove the tight embrace he’s got you in, sighing in resignation when you realise he’s got you quite literally caged in his arms. jisung groans at your movements, whining for you to stop before he falls back into a subconscious state, occasionally opening an eye to watch your glare.

“park. ji. sung.”

“okay, fine…” kissing the pout off his face, you gently pat his thigh as you head for the bathroom, hoping to relief yourself in peace before you find he’s been following you right up to the door.

to say jisung was clingy when he was sleepy was an understatement. you understood that the first night you spent with him, fatigue taking over his body bit by bit on the car ride home. he wouldn’t let you go, only doing it briefly to bring himself up to the dorms. he couldn’t even care about the prodding and teasing from the other members, letting the matter rest when they noticed the youngest couldn’t even form a reply.

you just didn’t think he was this needy.

you catch a faint hurry up before you close the door on him, prompting him to wait outside patiently with a hand on the wall. currently, it was almost 4am, the boys calmly asleep in the living room where the movie night turned into a slumber party. most of them talked to each other, others played with daegal and one just snacked on their own.

the both of you did most of the three, but chose rather to indulge in each other more than anything, seeing as this was a golden opportunity before they heed to the responsibilities and duties of their job.

you don’t have time to react when jisung tackles you once you open the door, bringing you right back into the toilet with a harsh tug on your waist. he locks the door and instantly locks his lips to yours, pressing you against the sink where the water seeps into the back of your t-shirt. you’re not one to care when jisung is kissing you so passionately, although uncharacteristically, to nothing but the timed dripping of the faucet.

he pulls away for just a second, to admire his work of flustering you. he feels that your skin is heating up, which in turn makes his own tint with a faint crimson and a look down to your entwined bodies. jisung suddenly gets shy.

with a gentle touch to his skin, your hand is guiding his eyes back to you which he adorably avoids, cheeks fully flaring up with a blush not even your make-up could complete. your next kiss is soft; like the inexperienced touch of two lovers who hasn’t had much time together, your lips move with his in slow motion, ironically presenting rather experienced movements where you naturally flow.

how? you can blame it on clingy mornings to the rushed kisses in between filming. after all, to say jisung was clingy when he was sleepy was an understatement.

jisung’s putty in your hands now, sinking more and more that he has to brace himself against the sink. “c’mon, let’s get to bed where we’ll be more comfortable,” you whisper, pulling him out of the bathroom.

in your familiar routine, you navigate the other’s room pretty effortlessly, hardly bumping into furniture but more of his scattered clothes and chunky shoes he has lying around. plopping onto his bed, you sigh at the cosy feeling of his sheets, curling up into the blanket he usually used. jisung has a bit of a trouble, though, and you’d think he’ll be the better one at manoeuvring the space.

“just a bit closer… yeah, that’s the bedpost, honey.” you chuckle at his cluelessness, even more when he heaves in relief. his experimental pats are what make you laugh out, feeling for you in the dark before you end his suffering with a touch of your hand.

before you know it, you’re welcoming the warmness on your sheets, squinting your eyes to keep it from being burned off by such bright light. at least, jisung likes to close his curtains most of time to keep the blinding sunlight away, encouraging the cutesy, stay-in-bed-till-afternoon behaviour, but it didn’t help when your bladder again, is desperately trying to release the gallon of soft drinks you drank yesterday in preparation for movie night.

“why are you always so eager to get up…?” jisung mumbles through sleep, knowing you were trying to sneak away when you pry his arm off your body. you cringe.

“i need to pee. again.”

“well, tell your bladder to stop it.” you feign annoyance, willing yourself to hold it in just a bit longer so you can appreciate the moment. after all, once your hands touch water, you’re almost sure you’ll be ninety-five percent awake.

you say nothing in reply to jisung’s quip, caught up in the mix of another kiss. the ones in the morning are short, eager to exchange conversation with you with bouts of sleepiness. sometimes he even falls back asleep midway, and you have to peck him back to consciousness. it’s funny, but you don’t think you have the time to engage in pillow talk as of now.

jisung has other plans, though, running his fingers aimlessly over yours while it plays with your slowly tensing fingers. c’mon, relax! he says and you have to restrain yourself from grumbling when he won’t let you go to the toilet.

“if this is your way of torturing me, maybe next time i should do the hand in water prank.”

jisung pouts, “but you know that doesn’t actually work, right?”

you grin, “it’s worth a try.” with resolve, you grab onto the other’s hand. just as you’re leaning in to give a kiss before your trip to the restroom, the door barges open.

“ya! park jisung, why didn’t you wake us up from the living room?” haechan has his hands on his hips when he shoots you a cheeky wave, “hi (y/n)!”

“i’m blaming my backache on you, by the way-” jaemin cuts in, peeking over the tanner boy’s shoulder, eyes instantly lighting up when he sees the two of you cuddling snugly. “c’mon, hyuck, in in! cuddle pile?”

haechan smirks and breaks into a run after jaemin does, “cuddle pileeeeee~!” both your whines is lost when the two grown men descend on you, ignoring the writhing that you both do even when jisung begs for his members to get off. it’s a recipe for disaster when he hears the other members pass by his room, stopping in their tracks to witness the absolute crazy scene going on.

“is this how we die?” you ask, barely huffing out a sentence with haechan’s weight on you, but your boyfriend is more focused on the other members spilling into the room, “hyung! hyung no! don’t you guys dare-!” there’s giggles exchanged between everyone, admiring how their youngest member has grown up so fast in a blink of an eye.

while you look to the teasing words of jaemin to which jeno and chenle echoes, and the general contentment you feel surrounded by long time friends (who no doubt have adopted you as their own, too), you find that there’s no place you’d rather be.