#if your teeth are chattering indoors

[warmblanketwhump]

so i had a very warmblanketwhump-like moment today. it's the starting of winter in my country, yet in my school classroom, the 3 ACs were turned on at full blast. and fucking hell knows why and how i forgot to carry my nice and warm blazer to school today. so everyone was wearing their blazer and hence they wanted the ACs to be on, and me, the poor me, was literally shivering and i thought well yeaahh this looks a lot like a warmblanketwhump-like moment 😂

(first off, I’m never over the fact that people actually think about this silly little blog during their daily lives 😂)

but secondly, that sounds miserable! 😭 I feel like it’s so much worse when you’re in an environment like school or an office where you just have to sit there and shiver while you get chilled with cold air, and you can’t even move around to get warm.

and what is people’s obsessions with turning the AC on in the winter??? I just do not get it 🥶 hope your day is a bit warmer today!!

[pseudowho]

Motherhood had altered your 'turn-ons'; not that you lusted after mankind as a whole-- Kento was enough.

His cologne, split with the smooth tang of sweat on work-ripened skin. His hands, alternately gentle and rough, peach-handling or blade-wielding. The authority only the world saw; the authority only you felt.

Dressed-up, dressed-down, undressed, dressing you down, undressing you. Breaking you only to reform you with gold, tied with red thread, whispering you to completion in the dark sacred night.

So (you corrected yourself, as you watched Kento jog after your daughter at the indoor play centre) motherhood had not altered your turn-ons; it had added to them. Stacking high now, you considered the tower of your adoration was just as likely to be stable, as unstable; its endurance or toppling entirely at Kento's mercy.

The arrival at soft-play was a sensory nightmare-- one of many you could tolerate as a mother when you wouldn't have, before.

Obnoxious children's music blared, cut by screams and shouts and cries and calls and whirls and swirls of kids darting and weaving, watched and unwatched, by helicopters or the disinterested. The cocktail was potent, spiked. Your headache started behind your left eye.

Kento saw you. He was unfairly loaded at his own insistence, with change-bag and snack-bag and car keys and your daughter, planking and chattering, a possessed surfboard beneath his arm.

"Sit down-- have a coffee." Kento rumbled, low and slow, unclipping his watch into your cupped hands as you began to argue. "You've had her all week. You need a break."

"You've been at work all week, Kento, you need a break--"

"Don't argue. You know it's not the same. Sit down. Have a coffee."

He lied to you for your benefit; you could feel the bone-deep weariness of him, surely needing a day of sofa-bound naps over a day of childrearing. Alas; parenthood. And he would continue to take bullets for you, even to his own detriment. You knew this. You had planned ahead for this.

As you peered down at your phone, smiling at an eagerly awaited reply, your daughter piped up, bouncing on little toes, her pigtails bouncing too.

"'lide, daddy. Let's go fast. Faster. Race you."

Kento hummed, smiling. "Slide, you mean?"

"I said it. 'lide." Your daughter moved to dart to the towering play area, a flash of lightning into a maelstrom, and you caught her. Kento was distracted, looking into the swarm of other peoples' children, oddly, as he looked at a swarm of Curses. You whispered into your daughters' ear as Kento slipped his boots off.

"Hey, missus, listen."

Your baby girl perked up, sweet and conspiratorial, goofy-teethed and dimple-cheeked, whispering back.

"What is it, mummy?"

"I've got a surprise for daddy. So don't tell him...come here, mummy needs to whisper."

Lips at an ear; tiny hands clasping over a mouth, fizzlepopping with excitement. A long finger against lips; a little finger against lips. A secret pact.

"Are you ready, young lady? I'll get you in three...two..."

Kento reached down for your daughter, his hands clawed, a wolfish grin on his lips. Your daughter knew what it meant; she shrieked with panicked laughter, bolting. The monster formerly known as 'Daddy' dashed after her.

The coffee was shit; you didn't mind, instead hyperfocused on how Kento and your daughter would dip out of sight into the rainbow maze, only to reappear minutes later, with Kento looking more ravaged each time.

On the first loop round, Kento looked unfazed, unruffled, still clipped in his t-shirt and jeans. You simply admired the sultry half-smile he offered you, and the cling of fabric to his thick biceps, before he swept after your daughter again.

On the fifth loop round, flicks of hair escaped over Kento's forehead, the veins on his arms prominent from throwing and tumbling and monstering. He panted, his muscle so much heavier to carry than your birdlike daughter's personal load. Kento's playful growl, running after your giggling daughter, was deeper; huskier. You squirmed, sipping your shit latte.

On the eleventh loop round, a fine sheen of sweat misted Kento's forehead, a flush dashed on high cheekbones. His broad chest heaved, and he stretched his arms back, cracking his neck from side-to-side, with a groan usually heard only when he exerted himself above you, for less wholesome pleasures.

With furrowed brows, Kento prowled the bottom of the slide, and your daughter shrieked, scrabbling to get away from him as he lunged. Your daughter was bicep-curled up to Kento's face, laughing uproariously at his ferocious tummy-raspberries, before being set free, once more, for the hunt. You could not cope, aching, desperately hoping you had the energy left to sweat for him at the end of the day.

By the twenty-first? twenty-third? twenty-fifth? loop round, Kento jogged to a heavy halt, his shoulder blades taut as he bent double, hands braced against his own knees. You heard him panting, cursing under his breath, one long rusty groan. It was all too much-- Kento needed a break. You were unhinged and unsupervised. Surely there had to be some relief--

"Yo, Mrs.Nanamin! Am I late?"

A vision in peach, Yuuji flopped into the chair opposite you, with hands in his pockets and man-spread with a square-jawed, boyish grin. He stood taller than Kento, now, a full-grown man...but still shrunk beneath Kento's chastisement and lectures.

"Right on time, Yuuji. Are you sure you don't mind? It's all a bit..." You looked into the raucous soft-play, searching for words, "...feral."

Yuuji beamed, ruffling his own hair and kicking his shoes off. "Nah. I was gonna go to the gym anyway, but this seems more fun as workouts go."

You called out to your daughter as she reached the bottom of the slide, and Kento looked up, sweating and exhausted. "Baby! Your big brother's here!"

A gasp of thrill from your daughter, and Kento was all but forgotten by her as she pelted towards Yuuji instead, leaping into his arms. She slapped his scrunched cheeks, aggressively overjoyed.

"Big brother-- big brother-- big brother--"

"Yeah yeah, little sister, little sister-- c'mon squirt, I'm gonna getcha! Hey-- Dad--- uh, Nanamin! Gotta go!"

Kento watched his children run away with dewy eyes, his body still thickened by exercise and heavy breaths. You bit your lip as Kento approached, eyes half-lidded as you drank him in. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped back water and gasped, husky with relief.

"God, I love that boy." Kento rumbled.

You melted to see Yuuji reach the bottom of the slide with your daughter on his lap. "Yeah...me too."

"He's saved my life...three times, now."

You laughed, your eyes dipped, tugging Kento to you by the hem of his t-shirt and beckoning him down with one curled finger.

"Think you'll still have some energy later?" You whispered, your breaths mingling with promise.

Kento's eyes narrowed, glimmering, his nose kissing yours. "For that? Always."

[twinsimming]

Utilities Mod Update (6/10/24) - Heating and Cooling System & Temperature Utilities ⛄🔥

Sims are now affected by outdoor temperatures indoors, and are at risk of overheating or freezing if their temperature swings to either extreme. 

Thermostats, Radiators, and/or Air Conditioners are now required inside a sim’s home to help regulate their temperature.

Requirements

This mod requires The Sims 3: Seasons.

To activate the new system, place down one of the three temperature utilities and use the “Enable Temperature Utility” interaction. Once enabled, you can then turn on the temperature utility to control your lot’s temperature.

These temperature changes will only affect sims in your household on your active home lot. No need to worry about unplayed households or sims on community lots freezing or spontaneously combusting!

Thermostats, Radiators, & Air Conditioner Utilities

There are three different types of temperature utilities to choose from to control your lot’s temperature, depending on the climate of your current world and the size of your lot. 

Thermostats are good for climates that have both hot and cold seasons, as they have heating and air conditioning, and are cost effective for residential lots with more than two or three rooms.

Radiators and Air Conditioners are better for climates that have either cold or hot seasons, but not both. They’re also more cost effective for apartments or starter homes with a few rooms, as they cost less per hour of what a thermostat does.

Thermostat: Provides either heat or air conditioning when turned on, covers the entire house, costs §2 per hour, gives the Toasty and Keeping Cool custom moodlets

Radiator: Provides heat when turned on, only covers the room it is located in, costs §1 every 2 hours, gives the Toasty custom moodlet

Air Conditioner: Provides air conditioning when turned on, only covers the room it is located in, costs §1 every 2 hours, gives the Keeping Cool custom moodlet

There are three thermostats, four radiators, and two air conditioners included with the mod. Some of the meshes are from Around The Sims 3 and the others were converted from The Sims 2 and The Sims 4 by me.

Temperature Utilities Usage

Temperature utilities can be turned on for different lengths of time: 6 hours, 12 hours, 18 hours, or 24 hours and will automatically switch off when the time is up.

Radiators and Air Conditioners have “Turn All On/Turn All Off” interactions to switch on or off all radiators or all air conditioners on the lot at once.

The usage cost of these utilities will be added to your household’s next bill.

If you want to opt out of the heating and cooling system, use the “Disable Temperature Utility” interaction available on one of the three temperature utilities.

Pay attention to the weather forecast temperatures to determine when your household needs to turn on their heating or air conditioning, and remember to turn them off when the weather is fine to save money!

Note: Temperature utilities will not be shut off due to lack of funds, bill delinquency, or outages.

New Moodlets

Keeping Cool: Given when air conditioning is on, lasts until sim leaves the room (air conditioner) or house (thermostat), +5 mood, removes the Pleasantly Warm, Getting Warm, Starting to Sweat, and Sweating Profusely moodlets

Toasty: Given when heat is on, lasts until sim leaves the room (radiator) or house (thermostat), +5 mood, removes the Pleasantly Chilly, Getting Chilly, Starting to Shiver, and Teeth Chattering moodlets

Master Controls

Every utility now has four new interactions: “Turn On All Utilities”, “Turn Off All Utilities”, “Enable All Utilities”, and “Disable All Utilities” under a new pie menu interaction called “Master Controls…”. These interactions turn on/off and enable/disable every utility on the active home lot at one time.

Script Namespace

If you want to turn another object into a utility, open your desired object in s3pe and replace the current script name with the following:

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.Utilities.Thermostat

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.Utilities.Radiator

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.Utilities.AirConditioner

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 2, The Sims 3, and The Sims 4, Around The Sims 3 for meshes, SimPE, Visual Studio 2019, Sims4Studio, Blender, Milkshape, TSRW, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, and Gimp.

Thank You

Thank you to @desiree-uk, @kevinvoncrastenburg, and @its-time-o-clock for testing and feedback. And to @aroundthesims for allowing me to use some of her wonderful meshes for the temperature utilities!

Download @ ModTheSims

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

[allfearstofallto]

Sharing a Jacket - Drabble

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

“I told you to wear appropriate clothes,” he muttered beneath his breath, words laced with his usual displeased venom, “Look at you. A shivering mess.”

His glare was colder than the wintery air of Snezhnaya, his eyes making you tremble more than the snow. Scaramouche was dressed more appropriate for the weather, in a heavy coat. Fatui issued, you know as much, you'd seen his coworkers wearing one similar. Despite your adamant hatred for the organization, specifically the one you married, you couldn't help but long for one yourself as the sharp air seemed to practically cut your skin.

You shivered, teeth chattering and finger tips going cold. He was right about telling you to dress appropriately, but you'd assume this harbinger event would be indoors and went lacking on your usual attire. As such, you were now stuck in ankle deep snow, wondering how even the sunlight of Snezhnaya was cold.

“Come here,” he ordered, using his hands to spread open the insides of his cape. He seemed clearly upset, more than usual, but still allowed you into his arms, where the warm cape was wrapped around you as well. Your face nestled against your chest, all you could think about was how you hated the touch of the man, but you wouldn't complain, not when he was providing you with more warmth, that was only growing hotter with your body heat.

“Thank you, my lord,” you managed to stutter out into the fabric of his shirt, followed by a sniffle from your red, runny nose. The apology was forced from your lips, it wasn't very often that you were grateful for anything that he'd given you.

He merely hummed, a usual response for him. His arms around your waist somehow felt better than the icy cold air, causing you to only press against him harder.

“Be glad that I love you,”

[perpetualfox]

Whoa dude, I love your work mate! I was wondering if I could ask for a NSFW König x female reader, where he comes back home from a long mission, that lasted several months, and sweetly (but with passion) absolutely RAILS his wife. I would me most grateful! Keep up the awesome work!

Language Lesson - König x Fem!Reader [NSFW]

Warnings: Manhandling, Semi-Rough Sex, Creampie

Wordcount: 2521

Well. This got away from me a little bit. Please forgive how long this took and any grammatical fuck ups in the German. I'm still learning (and lowkey using this as practice since I have no one to speak with lmao) (also thank you so much <3 I'm so glad you're enjoying these)

→The mattress groaned as König shifted his weight, bearing down upon you, pressing your body into the plush memory foam. He revelled in the glory of it beneath his battered knees. After so many months sunk deep into mud, and dust, and blood; after so many months catching sleep where he could—in the back of a transport, on the cold metal benches of an evac helo, or the cold, hard ground—he could hardly believe something so soft even existed.

→You on the other hand, he could believe in. Every dip and curve of your body was etched into his memory; burned against the backs of his eyelids. You had graced his thoughts during every precious moment of downtime and haunted his dreams at night. But those echoes were nothing when compared to you—the living, breathing you who looked at him like he hung the moon and stars each night, and bid the sun to rise in the morning.

→How lucky he was, how privileged, how honoured to have you like this: to growl against your throat, his teeth bared against your flushed skin. How blessed he was to strip you naked and marvel at your beauty, to have you to himself—all to himself. He pressed forward, crowding you against the headboard, his hips slotting against yours as though they had been made to do so. His cock lay heavily against your stomach, already flushed and leaking.

→Always so eager.

→You had missed that terribly in the months since he’d been deployed.

→You had missed everything about him—the way he loomed in doorways, always uncertain if he was welcome in to sit with you; the way he held your hand in public, his thick fingers flexing around yours, grip tight: a lifeline and a warning; the way he snorted when he laughed, blushing to the tips of his ears as he did so, and burying his face in his hands.

→You missed the way he always left the grocery shopping to you, but wouldn’t allow you to lift a finger in the kitchen; the way he sat on the bathroom floor while you bathed, his back braced against the side of the tub, long legs splayed out on the tiled floor, just listening to you chatter on about your day; the way he curled his body around yours at night, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, murmuring about what he’d like to make you for breakfast in the morning.

→Even the things you hated about him, you missed—the way he always left his boots right in the middle of the doorway: in the perfect spot for you to trip over them later; the smell of his cigarettes and how he thought he could get away with smoking them indoors so long as he opened a window first; his complete and utter aversion to putting his dirty shirts in the hamper. Then there was the way his tongue sharpened when something put him in a mood; his tendency toward catastrophizing even the most trivial problems when he could not solve them for you immediately; the sulking; the jealousy; the territorial possessiveness; the paranoia.

→You missed it all. The memories were not enough, the few short phone calls he’d managed were not enough—memories and phone calls couldn’t hold you, couldn’t satisfy you, couldn’t fill the empty parts of you. It wasn’t enough to know that he was alive. You needed him home.

→His fingers tightened around your thighs, nails biting into your flesh as he dragged you down, pinning you beneath him. His face remained tucked into the crook of your neck, but his hands were busy, one kneading at your inner thigh, the other guiding himself toward your entrance. He pressed himself against you, warm and thick, the length of him slipping against your slick folds. The crown of his cock bumped up against your clit, and you gasped, nerves sparking.

→“Mmm, babyyy, no fair! Don’t tease!”

→You felt his breathy chuckle more than heard it—a warm puff of air ghosting across the side of your neck. For a moment, he was still, stamping heavy, open-mouthed kisses against your flesh. Your skin felt too tight—overwarm and buzzy. You needed him. Now.

→The breath fled from your lungs in a heavy rush when, at last, he pushed forward, the blunt head of his cock stretching you open for the first time in months. You grabbed for him, hands clutching desperately at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. God, you’d forgotten just how much of a stretch it was to take him like this. The burn of it licked at you, thrumming through your quivering thighs and up into your belly. Your fingers could never come close to the sheer girth of him, nor could they reach as deep as you needed them to—as deep as he could.

→“Scheiße…” The word was little more than a hiss, slipping out between the tight clench of his teeth, “Du bist sehr eng…ich hätte zuerst deine Muschi dehene sollen…”

→His English came back slowly when he’d been away for so long. Though he had been teaching you, and you’d been improving in leaps and bounds, with your brain leaking out around his cock, you were hopelessly out of your depth. He could have said anything to you—threatened your life, called you names, read out his to-do list, or the numbers in a phonebook—it wouldn’t have mattered. Not when he sounded like that. His voice, usually breathy and nasal, had taken on a new tone: fuller and deeper. He always sounded, to your ear, more confident in his native tongue, no matter how excellent his English was. You loved his voice no matter the language it spoke, but there was something about that self-surety that always sent a shiver through you.

→He groaned as he rocked into you, working you open around him little by little. The sudden gush of your warm arousal aided the slide of his cock against your walls. The slick sound of his movements was mortifying, and yet you could do little else but whine, your voice caught high in the back of your throat, “Ohh, fuck, please!”

→When at last he had sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you, König stilled. Your thighs shook, trembling with the strain and overstimulation. He was so big, his cock nestled up against every spot that lit your nerves on fire. After months of poor substitutions, you were finally, blissfully fucking full. Your pussy clenched tight around him; you were so close already, your body thrumming with the promise of it. Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your breastbone—dimly you wondered if he could feel it too, throbbing beneath his chest and around his cock. Surely, he was deep enough for that.

→His lips brushed against the junction between your neck and shoulder. He trembled against you, shaking with the effort it took to hold still; to not simply hold your hips down and take you like an animal—rutting into you until you were a sobbing, writhing mess beneath him. What a pretty picture you’d make pinned beneath him, his cum leaking out around his cock as he fucked a third or fourth load into you.

→You stared up at him, eyes wet and wide—uncomprehending. His hands slid up your body to cup your face, thumbs stroking gently against your heated cheeks. His lips ghosted against your own, warm and wet as he spoke, his tongue tripping over the words as his brain struggled to form a sentence you could better understand. “Let,” he panted, his hips kicking impatiently forward, burying another inch of his cock inside of you, “Let me hear you whine like I taught you, yes?”

→You swallowed hard, dimly catching his meaning, but struggling to remember a single thing he had taught you. The hours you’d spent curled up in his lap, tracing the prominent bow of his lips as he spoke, trying (and often failing) to mimic the sounds he made seemed wasted to you now—a distant dream, the details of which you could no longer recall.

→“Um…­b-bitte…uhh…” Your brain sputtered and sparked, trying desperately to think around the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the sheer heat of his cock inside of it. You could feel him throbbing—a steady thrum pulsing beneath the frantic beating of your heart, “Ich…Ich…möchte d-dein…mmm…schwarz—no! Schwanz!”

→A peal of laughter, dark and deep shuddered through you, rattling your bones and making your head swim, “Lange nicht gut genug. Nochmal.”

→He kept rocking into you in shallow little thrusts, stopping just short of the spots where you needed him most. Your thighs were shaking. You couldn’t think, you could hardly breathe. There was no room left inside of you for anything but him…

→“Nochmal!” The command rang in your ears, and he snapped his hips forward. The tip of his cock brushed against a spot inside of you that made your vision blur, the world tilting around you. You sobbed, nearly coming undone around him then and there, but with that single thrust, he ground to a halt. His cock pressed relentlessly against that spot, but it wasn’t what you needed—he wasn’t moving. It wasn’t enough. You writhed beneath him, desperate for stimulation, desperate to cum. Your cunt throbbed around him for it, but he had asked something of you, and you wouldn’t get what you wanted until the request had been satisfied.

→“S-Sei…gentle? Gentle…” You wracked your brain for the word, trying desperately to ignore the pulsing need that lay nestled between your thighs. “Ah! Sanft! Sei sanft mit m-mir!”

→König’s cock twitched inside of you, the sound of his language falling so prettily from your lips was almost too much for him to bear. A low, purring chuckle rose from the back of his throat, his hips grinding forward. Stars burst across your vision. A mewling cry escaped your lips as your nails dug into his flesh, leaving red welts in their wake as you clawed at his back.

→“Besser, aber nein, Schatzi.” He leaned down, scraping his teeth along the column of your throat, the salt-tang of your sweat blooming across his tongue. “Ich kann nicht, vor allem nicht jetzt.”

→He surged forward, taking your thighs in his hands and forcing them wider apart, pushing them back over the tops of your hips. The cold metal of the ring on his finger bit into your flesh, but even that keen sting melted into pleasure as he began to fuck you in earnest, using the leverage of your new position to bully himself deeper inside of you. You were sure the tip of his cock was kissing your cervix with each snap of his hips. Again and again, his name tumbled from your lips—not ‘König,’ but his name. his real name. It was music to his ears.

→“Ich liebe es dich winseln zu hören, Liebe.”

→Bracing a thigh against his forearm, his thumb found your clit and you thrashed against him, tears streaming down your face as he rubbed harsh circles into the sensitive nub. He cooed down at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes flashed in the low light, “Fühlt sich das gut an?” His simpering tone sent another rush of arousal through you. You could practically feel yourself dripping around his cock.

→“Yes! Ja!” You whined, hips kicking up against his hand, desperate for more of his touch after so long without it. “Plea—uh, bitte!”

→“Gutes Madchen. Meine gutes Mädchen.”

→Your cunt throbbed around him, and he whined long and low into the darkness, his thumb still stroking your clit in time with each harsh thrust. You were going to cum—you could feel it building in your stomach and pulsing behind your oversensitive clit. Each swipe of his calloused thumb brought you a little closer to that edge; made you a little more desperate to finally reach it.

→“Fuck! Fuck! I-I’m…I-I’m gonna cum!” You didn’t have it in you play his game anymore. You hadn’t the room in your mind for it now, and he knew as much.

→“Ja, ich weiß.” His lips brushed against the crown of your head, a shockingly chaste gesture for a man buried to the hilt in your cunt. “Es ist okay, Liebe. Komm für mich.”

→Almost at once, as though his permission had been all you had needed, your muscles locked up, clamping down hard around him as the first waves of your orgasm crashed over you. Your eyes rolled in your skull, the whites flashing in the darkness. Your hips jerked beneath his fingers as he pressed them tight against your clit letting you grind against them as the pleasure rocked through you.

→You felt his head drop back down against your shoulder as he fell into you, losing himself in the rhythmic clench of your cunt. His pace was rough and sloppy as he shed the pretense of humanity and fucked into you like it was the last thing he’d do. His lips worked feverishly against your flesh—mouthing a silent prayer into the side of your neck; a devotional in your name: the only God he still believed in.

→His teeth flashed against your skin as he came, your flesh muffling his keening whine as he caught it between his teeth. He couldn’t fuck you through it, his shaking thigh giving out with the intensity of pleasure. Instead, he trembled against you, his hips pressed flush against yours as he flooded you with a searing warmth. He whined your name like it was the only coherent thought in his mind, slurring it against your kiss bruised flesh until it hardly made sense to your own ears anymore.

→How had you survived without him?

→As he slowly came back to himself, he rolled his hips, fucking into you with slow, languid strokes. He revelled in the soft whining sounds he pulled from your throat, grinning against your throat. “Mein.” His voice was little more than a whisper, his chapped lips ghosting over your soft skin, “Mein, mein, mein.”

→He peppered your neck and shoulder with gentle kisses, a contented sigh escaping his lips. His hips shifted to the left, as though he were preparing to roll over. “No!” You gripped his arm tight and shook you head. You felt the knot forming in his brow before he pulled back to look at you, his head cocked to the side in confusion.

→Your head was clearer now, his lessons easier to recall as the lust-addled fog began to clear from your mind. You locked your legs around his waist, “Kannst du noch einmal?”

→For a moment, it was all he could do to stare down at you, his eyes wide. At length, he spoke, “You…practiced?”

→You nodded, staring up at him, your eyes wide and hopeful, desperate for his approval.

→His eyes flashed, his fingers digging deep into the meat of your thighs, “In that case, du wirst mich anflehen müssen, damit aufzuhorenh.”

Translations (huge thanks to @disastersareajoy for their corrections <3):

→Scheiße - shit

→Du bist sehr eng…ich hätte zuerst deine Muschi dehene sollen - You're very tight…I should have stretched your pussy first

→Nein, Liebe - No, Love

→Frag mich auf Deutsch - Ask me in German.

→B-Bitte - P-Please

→Ich…Ich…möchte d-dein…mmm…schwarz—no! Schwanz - I…I…want y-your…mmm…black--no! Cock (hope this makes sense 'Schwarz' and 'Schwanz' sound similar to my ear and I get them confused all the time)

→Lange nicht gut genug. Nochmal - Not good enough by half. Again

→Sei sanft mit m-mir - Be gentle with m-me

→Besser, aber nein, Schatzi - Better, but no, little treasure

→Ich kann nicht, vor allem nicht jetzt - I can't, especially not now

→Ich liebe es dich winseln zu hören, Liebe - I love to hear you whine, Love

→Fühlt sich das gut an? - Does that feel good?

→Gutes Madchen. Meine gutes Mädchen - Good girl. My good girl

→Ja, ich weiß - Yes, I know

→Es ist okay, Liebe. Komm für mich - It's okay, Love. Cum for me

→Mein, mein, mein - Mine, mine mine

→Kannst du noch einmal? - Can you do that again?

→Du wirst mich anflehen müssen, damit aufzuhorenh - You will have to beg me to stop

[zorrasucia]

congratulations on 300 followrs!

would like to request "snowed in" trope for "this mess was yours"-verse. headcanon or deleted scene :)

Thank you, Anon! I love this trope so much 💜🥰

Made this half fluff and half smut, because I think we're at a point where they've definitely caught feelings but if they fuck at the end of it there's still plausible deniability 😉

I hope you like it!

Send a request for my 300 followers celebration! 🥳

this mess was yours (now your mess is mine) - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Rating: Explicit (1.2k)

Tags: Smut, Set two(ish) years before the present aka the New York years, Porn with a little plot, Fluff, Friends with Benefits, Virgin!Carmy (my beloved), Snowed In, Domesticity, P in V Sex, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

You found Carmy smoking, sitting on the staircase of your building with his coat on.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You had tried his door earlier and imagined he was trapped back at the restaurant, and what a nightmare that would be for him.

Carmy looked up at you, pale from the cold.

"J-just smoking a cigarette," he shrugged, teeth chattering slightly.

"Look, I know the lease says that you can't smoke inside the apartment but, like, it's a snow storm, I don't think the landlord would kick you out if he found out," you reasoned. Carmy remained silent. "Plus, I think the staircase still counts as 'indoors' for legal purposes."

"Would you believe me if I told you it's warmer here than inside my apartment?"

You tilted your head. "What do you mean?"

"Heating's busted. Landlord said he'd fix it this week. I spend so little time in there that I honestly didn't care," he shivered.

"Until we got snowed in and you have no job to go to," you finished for him.

"Exactly."

"Come on," you gestured upstairs.

~

You put a blanket around Carmy's shoulders and sat next to him on your couch. You grabbed his hands, exhaling on them to warm them up.

"Do you want to take a warm shower? Should I make tea?" you asked, worried.

"I'm fine," he repeated, smiling as you caressed the hair by his temples. He had some color back on his face. "Thank you, though."

"Okay," you agreed, lying back on the couch, bringing him with you. His face settled on your chest, his hair tickled your chin, and his weight on top of you was comforting.

"What were you planning on doing today?" he asked after a while.

"Not much," you replied, fingers carding through his curls. "Movies and napping, probably."

"Sounds amazing," he exhaled, his breath tickling your chest.

You smiled, holding him close.

"Why didn't you come over earlier, Carm?"

"I didn't know if you'd be in the mood," he shrugged, looking embarrassed.

"We don't have to fuck every time we see each other," you reasoned, realizing as you were saying it, that you had at least made out every single time you visited each other's apartments.

"Oh," he scrunched his face and paused. "Alright. Can I stay here for a while then?"

"I would be very offended if you didn't," you said sternly, playing it up for humor.

He chuckled, snuggling his face between your breasts and running his hands over your sides, soothing, sleep inducing...

You woke up to the smell of cinnamon and the sound of butter sizzling on a pan. You climbed up on the counter to watch Carmy cook, trying not to think about the time he had eaten you out on that same counter.

"I didn't have much in the pantry," you apologized.

"Stale bread makes for good french toast," he replied simply.

"It's been ages since I had breakfast for dinner," you beamed, watching Carmy pour some coffee in a mug and hand it to you. "Thank you."

He smiled in return, looking at ease and comfortable as he cooked, and you wondered whether he was like that in every single kitchen or just yours.

~

"S-O-U," you spelled, tracing the letters on Carmy's fingers.

"Sense of urgency," Carmy said, voice soft and eyes closed.

You were lying in your bed, warm, you in your pijamas and him in his t-shirt and boxers. You had never had the time and leisure to see his tattoos properly, now you were relishing it. Your fingers caressed the drawings gently, the movie playing in the background long forgotten.

"Seven seven three?" you asked, fingers curling around Carmy's bicep.

"It's the, uh, the Chicago area zip code."

"Ever think of going back?" you asked carefully.

"I don't-" he covered his face. "I don't think I can. All the things that made me leave are still there, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it."

He reached out to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers.

"Can I sleep over?" he asked.

"Course you can, Carm," you smiled softly.

"Thanks."

~

You woke up to the streets below completely covered in snow and Carmy sleeping soundly by your side.

You took him in, the sight of Carmy relaxed and with nowhere to go for once in his life. You made yourself some coffee and let him rest until late morning.

Once he started stirring, you climbed on top of him, waking him up by kissing his neck.

"Morning," he mumbled, running his hands through your hair.

"You look so good in the morning, Carm," you said, kissing the side of his face, feeling him harden underneath you.

"Fucking hell," he drawled. "I know you said we didn't have to fuck every time but-"

"Yeah. I was thinking the same," you giggled and started grinding your core against his erection.

"Fuuuck. You're going to kill me," he arched his neck into the pillow, squeezing your ass as you straddled him, keeping you in place.

You got rid of your sleep shirt unceremoniously, his eyes and hands suddenly all over your breasts.

"You look good in the morning," he emphasized, enjoying the sight of your body in broad daylight, sitting up to bury his face between your breasts. "Need to fuck you."

"Please," you whined.

He rolled you over, your head hitting the pillow, Carmy hovering above you. His tattooed hands took off your shorts and underwear, eyeing your pussy greedily. He kissed all over and licked between your folds, enough to have you flushed and ready, but not enough to make you come.

You moaned needily; the sight of him rolling on a condom on his cock made you writhe on the bedsheets with impatience.

"Please," you repeated.

You had all the time in the world, you knew, but his crooked smile told you that Carmy was enjoying edging you a little too much.

"Can I try something?" he asked.

"Anything," you grabbed at his ass, trying and failing to bring him closer. "Just- please."

He smiled wider, maneuvering your legs to rest on his shoulders, practically folding you in half as he pushed forward to enter your pussy.

"Jesus, fuck!" you blurted out as you felt him move inside, inch by inch, impossibly deep, his blue eyes keeping you grounded. "Oh."

"Good?" he asked, his forehead touching yours as he bottomed out.

"Shit, Carmy. So fucking good," you whined. His eyes crinkled with pride. "Definitely going to get a cramp in my leg at some point," you warned him with a giggle. "But it feels fucking good right now."

"Won't take long, I promise," he smiled against your lips.

He pounded into you, hard thrusts that made the bed shake and had you rolling your eyes.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groaned, his open mouth breathing into yours, his gold chain dangling invitingly.

You wanted to pull it, bring him towards you, hold his face, scratch his back... Overwhelmed, you reached back instead, grabbing at your pillow desperately.

"How am I so close already? Carmy, fuck!" you cried out.

"Touch yourself," he said and you obeyed him immediately, your middle finger pressing on your clit, pussy pulsing hard against his cock. "'m close too."

You giggled, writhing with pleasure.

"Gonna make me cum," you mumbled needlessly, just praising him. "Feel so perfect inside me."

"Yeah?" was all he could say before your pussy started fluttering around him, taking him over the edge, making him grunt and squeeze his eyes shut, losing all his restraint. "Shit."

"Yeah," you exhaled, canting and circling your hips to get every last drop of pleasure he could give you. "Carm..."

"Mmm?" he placed a tired kiss on your ankle.

"I'm glad you stayed over," you whispered.

"Me too."

~

@vyctorya

[heartfullofleeches]

Camp counselor darling and slasher yan? 👀

Fire crackles in the pale moonlight. Figures cower behind a tree stump as a shadow rises from its amber flames, beckoning the braver of the group to draw closer as its voice drops to a grumble.

"It's said that in this exact forest - right where you're all sitting, is where those hikers met their end. On what had been a quiet, peaceful hike until then, the group suddenly began to hear whistling from the trees. A bird's call some would claim, but none of them could argue the strangeness of it all. The sound was a constant as they moved on, switching directions and even allegedly playing right in the leader's ear. A chilling drone that drew further when brought into question- like whatever was watching them was enjoying their increasing fears. They say if you listen closely - you can still hear it-"

The shadows purses its lips in a would be bone rattling hum save for the giggle they're unable to keep in. Still - the call works in favor of their narrative; teeth chattering from more than just the cold.

"The group collectively ruled to write it off as the sounds of the forest, but the deeper they traveled, the louder it grew... and louder... and louder.... until...it fell from the trees."

A hand slips discreetly into its pocket and over the flames - the fires quickly consume the salts and burst in a fiery, devilish red.

"The severed head of one of their members... missing their tongue!"

The screams of the campers reach all the way back to the main hall as you laugh maniacally- drinking the sweet cries of your victims for as long as they'd play along. With a playful shove from behind, the tarp dropped over your shoulders fall into the arms of your fellow teammate as they shake their head with a chuckle.

"Quit telling ghost stories before lights out. We want them to actually sleep when we get them indoors."

"Aww, come on - they earned it. Clean up their mess on time and majority of what you see here won the tug of war game earlier. That counts for something - right?"

You glance back at your audience who all agree on the notion. It was nice to have some people on your side. Really, you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your summer. Your fellow council was a blast, and groups like those seated around you loved the stories and games you came up with. There honestly weren't any issues at the camp - until your last story about man eating spiders left a camper with a fuzzy blanket restless.

Your teammate stifles their grin and tucks the tarp under their arm, clasping their hands over their mouth as the address the campers. "Alright, lights out in ten. Make sure you have all your belongings or we will take them for ourselves. Stick to the buddy system and get back to your cabins.... that means you too, Y/n."

You wave them off, crossing your legs over one another as you sit in the dirt. "Yeah, I know. I'll head it once the fire dies."

The campers gather their things and wave their goodbyes.

"Bye, Y/n."

"See you in the morning, Y/n."

"Can't wait to see what you got next!"

"See you!" You wave everyone off, warming your hands at the fire as everyone leaves. Eyeing the supplies someone had forgotten, you search around for a stick and roast the remaining marshmallows over the embers as the passing breeze snuffs the roaring sparks. You zip up your jacket as it bites - leaning back to watch the moon as it ducks behind the hanging trees. One by one, lights around the camp go out - a soft hum enduring as the whir of electrics drains out. A branch snaps behind you.

"Dawn? You back already?"

Silence...but still, faintly- breathing. You laugh, sandwiching the marshmallow between two crackers. "I know you're here. I can hear you."

Weight shifts behind you. You look back to see, but the branches and haze of night obscure your sight of the silhouette in the trees. ".....I like your stories...."

"Thanks.... but you're not Dawn.... Lewis, that you? I told you I'm not interested, but you're still welcome to sit by the fire."

" 'fraid not.... I'm not from your part of the woods. Is this.. Lewis giving you problems, Dear?"

"Nah, just a flirt... Who are you then."

Silence - followed by the dying pops of the fire. "Just passing by. Live up the creek a few miles down and fancy a stroll now and then. Didn't know the camp wad reopening so soon and overheard one of your stories a couple nights back. You're a whole lot nicer than the group they brought in last year.... cuter too."

"You sure you're not Lewis?... You're welcome to come back and listen another time if you like - if you're just passing by again."

The smile in their voice is indisputable. "I'm sure we'll be seeing alot of each other, Y/n... I can almost guarantee it."

"Right, hey - it's getting kinda late so I have to go. There's still some marshmallows in the bag you can have if you want." No response. You take it as a yes anyway and leave the bag out for them as you throw what remained of your smore into the pit. You stand up, leaving to grab something to put out the fire and the charred remains of your dessert. A figure steps from the shadow and completes the first task for you - picking up your half eaten smore and dusting off the ash as they lowered their mask. A hum at the sweetness of the treat pitches into a soft whistle as the figure disburses back into the trees.

You exit the main hall, water bottle in hand and head back to the pit site - stopped by none other than your teammate from before.

"Hey, Y/n- you seen Lewis anywhere? He said he was going to check out some noise he heard and hasn't come back yet."

[dulcibella-dreams]

Tempest.

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ⛆ ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ⛈ Makoto Yuki/Minato Arisato X GN reader

Synopsis: The weather is absolutely dismal, and you missed the train.

You could barely see.

The rain peltered the floor, creating a suffocating veil of gloomy mist. All you could do was speed walk through the monochromatic canvas. Soaked to the bone, your hair clung like wet silk to your skin, and you were pretty sure you accidentally ate some of your own rain-soaked strands. The day had started relatively sunnily, so you had no good reason to bring an umbrella. Oh, how you wished you had.

Holding the straps of your schoolbag like a lifeline, you rushed to the monorail's stop. Under the awning, you took a moment of respite to breathe. Your bag hit the ground, and you wrung out your dripping curtain of hair. Realising the weather had made you late, you checked the arrival and departure times. You almost fell to the floor and threw a tantrum when you saw the next train wouldn’t arrive for another hour. You hugged your own body, vehemently plunking down onto the bench. As your teeth chattered and water filtered out of the sides of your shoes, you envied the people who had arrived on time—probably at home with heaters and dry clothes right about now.

Your dreary thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. Someone quickly stepped into the stop, sheltering something in their jacket. Makoto! You definitely hadn’t expected him. He hadn’t realised you were the shivering person just yet, finger combing his drenched hair. You watched as he pulled out his MP3 player from underneath his jacket, while the book that couldn't fit in his bag lay drenched under his arm. Priorities, you supposed. As he turned, his eyes met yours, and they lit up in recognition. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t see you,” he said. You waved it off as he sat down next to you. Moving in closer, you took the ink-stained workbook out of his hands, cringing at the ink blots on the pages. You closed it and put it in your own bag, having enough space. He gave you a silent look of gratitude.

“I didn’t see you when I left school, so I assumed you’d already gone,” you said sheepishly. You glanced at Makoto, who was adjusting his drenched hair. “If I’d known, I would’ve wanted to walk with you.” He turned toward you, a small smile playing on his lips. “We ended up together anyway, though. I suppose it worked out?”

Makoto carefully placed his MP3 player in his schoolbag. “When does the train come, anyways?” he asked. You almost groaned again. “in an hour...” you replied. He fiddled with his bangs, a soft sigh escaping him. He looked tired, but then again, he always did.

“If the rain settles down, we may as well walk…” he mused, though there seemed to be no sign of the weather calming. The sound of rain hitting the stop was almost deafening. “Unless we want to catch the meanest cold ever, I’d advise against it.” You’d rather sit here for hours than feel the rain seep into your scalp again. Makoto’s hair was even longer when wet. He was currently picking at the corner of his mouth, removing the hair that had found its way through his lips without invitation.

“Not like Mitsuru would let us skip school if we had a cold, anyways.” He mumbled.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t she deem it ‘a danger to the student body’?” This made him laugh softly. It was a very gratifying sound, coming from a boy who usually remained expressionless. Though it warmed you up, it didn’t quite fix your waterlogged clothes. As the wind picked up, you heard the rumble of thunder. You were increasingly uneasy, watching the thin trees sway. You didn’t like storms. Suddenly, you felt the intense need to be indoors. You succeeded in suppressing your rising panic, though it didn’t go unnoticed.

“You alright?” Makoto tilted his head slightly, gauging you. You were going to shake your head and say ‘it’s fine,’ but something about his nature made it easy to open up. “I just…I really don’t like weather like this. It puts me on edge.”

Makoto looked at you for a quiet moment before reaching into his bag. Pulling out his music player, he offered his headphones to you. “…Do you want to listen with me?”

You sensed Makoto’s intention—to provide you with a distraction. It was…sweet. Absurdly so. It had been a while since someone had done something so considerate for you. Your cheeks felt warm. “Yeah, sure!” As the music played, you tried to lose yourself in its melody, separating each instrument from the beat. You started to feel less troubled.

But when your anxious mind coerced you to fix your gaze at the weather, his fingers found your face. Gently, he turned your gaze downward, and you watched as he took your hand in his. His touch radiated warmth, a stark contrast to your frozen skin. You reveled in his velvety hands, well-kept with strong, healthy nails. Makoto wasn’t accustomed to intimacy; his parents' passing had denied him such simple comforts. This had inevitably rendered him touch-starved. He understood that you sought solace in this connection— he enjoyed it just as much as you did, if not more.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the train finally arrived. As you both stood—muttering words like 'finally' and 'about time—he never released your hand. Looking into his eyes, that warm, fond feeling overtook you again.

"What would I do without you, Makoto?"

[collectorofsoulss]

Exile! Mammon x F! Reader Pt 3

One

Previous

The skies were obscured by the darkness of the clouds. Its melancholy rained over you as you drove down treacherous roads. The headlights of your car was the only source of light. The highway lamps were blown, a thick residue of mist made seeing difficult.

The road seemed to stretch endlessly, your headlights struggled to pierce through the mist. Occasionally you glanced in your rearview mirror to observe your sleeping children, making sure they were okay.

How could Mammon subject you to this torment? The curse that plagued your firstborn son had to be from the dark and mysterious past of his, a past that now encroached upon your present. The family now bared his burden.

He might be a changed man now, but the lingering essence of his former self left you troubled. He was reaping the consequences of his past deeds and you found yourself irrevocably entangled in his karmic retribution. When would it all end?

This curse had to be broken. There was a place you knew.

His calls were declined. Mammon possessed an uncanny ability to sway you, to convince you to understand what happened, but this was something you refused to hear.

The relentless downpour drenched your clothing, the frigid water caused your teeth to chatter. Junior was bundled, carefully, his delicacy was shielded from the hash elements. Maximus’ small hands held the hem of your pants,

“Mama, I’m tired,” he mumbled his weariness. There were small splashes as he walked beside you.

Hands full, you urge him to stay close, “Don’t let go. Stay close to mama.”

The shop was still opened, a creaky old sign hung precariously above, worn and weathered. The light flickered, dangers shadows bounced casting scary imagines of the unknown. There was an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach as if unseen eyes watched you.

Quickly you moved, seeking refuge indoors. The bell above the door sounded. Floorboards aged, every step was an eerie squeak in the deadened silence. Before you could call for help, a raspy voice echoed down the dark shadows of the corners.

“Look who we have here.”

“I’ve heard you had the ability to break curses,” your voice held desperation, “My son, he’s transforming into…” Afraid to say the word chose to misspoke instead, “something.”

The woman emerged. Tall, elegant, she had a slim figure and a face that revealed wisdom and experience. The grays within her hair was slicked into a bun emphasizing the sharpness of her features. Eyes piercing as they come, it held you by surprised. The woman’s lips curled into a smile, her gaze fixed on your son.

“Let me take a good look, child.”

With careful hands you laid your son’s trembling form before the mysterious woman. Junior’s breath came in ragged gasp, “Mama,” he mumbled in distressed.

“Shh, shh,” you whispered with love, “It’s okay, she’s just going to take a look at you.”

The woman came close to examine your son, her hands glowed with a faint light as she hovered her palms. The room fell into silence with small crackles of the candles around the edge of table. Maximus was on a nearby bench, a blanket casted over him while he slept. Anxiously, you paced. The mysterious workings of magic unfolded before your eyes, weaving an intricate dance.

“This child is not burdened by any curse.”

As the woman’s words hung in the air you were consumed with confusion and disbelief. “I’m his mother, I birthed him and he did not have these…things coming out of him.”

“Such creations laid dormant. A spell has been casted, however, it appears it has weakened. Now the child's original form has begun to manifest.”

“Original form?” you laughed nervously. This woman has gone mad. “You must be mistaken –”

The woman’s gaze remained unyielding. “Did you not come to seek guidance?”

“…Yes,” you admitted.

“Then it appears you trust me enough to believe this child is of demon descent.”

Demon descent! Furious, you bundled his weary form, displeased with this woman’s service. She was full of shit. She was nothing more than a fraud. Innocently, you stared at Junior unable to believe these features were destined to be his.

“No, there must be some mistake,” you closed your eyes as you held him closer. “He’s a human just like his parents.”

“Are you sure?” her heels circled you. Eventually she stood behind to peer over your shoulder and onto your vulnerable child. "What be of his father?"

“He’s an orphan. He knows nothing of his parents, abandoned at birth,” you answered truthfully.

These words revealed a life shaped by absence, a child left to navigate a word devoid of parental guidance and love. The women stepped away to lean against the table, staring into your eyes she gave her verdict.

“His maternal or paternal side is of demon lineage.”

The weight of her words settled heavily on your shoulders. The astonishment allowed her to continue.

"It appears the young one has a little more time before he too undergoes his transformation. The spell remains intact but not yet for long." She set a cold hand upon your shoulder, "You make speak of your truth but blood never lies. Unfortunately, I am unable to help you for there is no curse for me to break,” she calmly disclosed. “If you do not see truth in my words so be it.”

The rain seized, the reminisce of its presence were puddles. Junior sleepily toddled beside you, hand in yours while the blanket laid as a makeshift hood. Maximus was exhausted, it was past his bedtime anyway so you had him against your shoulder. Hastily you attempted to leave the sketchy alleyway. 

The woman made it seemed as if you had demonic blood coursing through your veins. As far as you knew, your family was ordinary, it was you who dabbled in sorcery, enticed by the allure of magic until you realized magic comes with a price.

It was far too treacherous to continue. Immediately you casted such life behind you, your status remained at a novice level. As for your husband, you knew nothing his family for he had none to know. Was he a…? Impossible, you’d be able to sense it. Right?

The dimly lit alleyway served as refuge for shadows, allowing treachery to lurk within its mysterious depths. The car was not too far, it was just up ahead. There was a slight stumble in Junior’s steps, his feet nearly tangling in the blanket.

“Ow,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, honey I just need to get you and your brother out of this cold.”

There echoing in the alley, quicken footsteps trailed, their feet splashed in the puddles. The anticipation had you breathless, desperately jogging with two children in tow. An arm grabbed yours, breaking the connection of you and Junior as they pinned you against the wall. The coldness of the concrete soak through your clothes, chilling your entire core.

“Give me your wallet!” a growl.

The glint of the knife glistened ominously under the flickering streetlight as it pointed in your face. Their accomplice snatched your fallen purse shuffling through like scoundrels in search of money.

“Fifty?” they counted. “That’s it!” Disappointment soon grew into frustration.

Junior buried his face in your hip, afraid to look at them. The theft’s grip on your wrist had your fingers losing sensation, you could hard twitch a finger. This was wrong, coming here in the night like this.

“The nearest ATM!” he demanded, voicing echoing through the empty streets, a remainder they had your fate in their hands. “You’re going to withdraw every – last – cent, you hear me?” his lips were to your ear. He swiveled the knife, lightly touching the surface of your cheek. “Don’t be slick, or else I’ll be taking more than just…money.”

Your life.

A single drop of blood fell.

The blanket drifted from Junior’s head, falling, the wind casted it to the side, landing it in a puddle. His grip, once tight and fearful against your clothes soon softened as he caught scent your blood. Pupils constricted into fine lines, Junior’s claws lengthened like a sword unsheathing from a blade.

The small child moved with unmatched speed and precision the attacker’s throat was snatched with a grip promising death. The man plummeted into the wall, the bricks crumbled from impact. The other man lagged, unable to register the scene before him. The pool of blood gathered at his feet triggered him into a sprint.

Desperately he chased the light at the end of the alley which led back out into the main road. Hands clawed at the air in attempts to move faster. He was close but not close enough. The man ran from death but death – always comes.

The moonlight’s shadow concealed Junior’s figure. In the spot you stayed, your figure sunk to the ground, knees weak, arms heavy. Maximus was numb to his surroundings, in your arms he slept, not witnessing the inconceivable power his brother had just wielded.

In each passing moment you hyperventilate with uncertainty. Unsure if your child has been consumed by the curse or if he had the ability to recognize you. The footstep drew closer, and closer while you wait in anticipation in what's to come out. On the edge of light and darkness stood him.

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Hello I have prompt aka one of my obsessions in your ask box:

Magnus meeting Izzy shy older brother after months of hearing about him and getting instant whiplash cause he hot af & freaky af 😬

Sorry this took a while shshshsh I’m writing like 2 words a day.

Also, song playing in the club is Don’t Go Insane by DPR Ian (who may or may not be a potential Magnus fancast? 👀)

Read on Ao3

***

Isabelle had lied to him.

Sure, she’d talked to him for ages during lunch and coffee breaks at work about how sweet and cool and handsome her brother was, and also about how he always got all shy and blushy around the boys he liked, and dropped maybe a thousand hints about how Magnus and the mystery brother would make a very very good couple.

And now that he’s seen the guy in person - at Isabelle’s birthday party in a downtown club - Magnus can confidently say that Isabelle lied.

Because nothing could prepare for just how fucking hot he was.

Magnus had arrived a little early - just before the celebrations started but just in time to find Isabelle waiting right outside the club for her brother. He decided to wait along with her, making idle talk, until Isabelle’s eyes brightened at the sight of something and she threw out a hand, waving excitedly.

“There he is!”

Magnus turned to look, and was greeted by the sight of a heavy Zero motorcycle zipping past at full speed before it made an impressive u-turn in the narrow street, screeching against the asphalt, and came to a stop in front of the club.

The driver pulled off his helmet, giving his head a little shake to tame his messy hair, and Magnus’s world stopped spinning for a moment because holy hell was he gorgeous.

A jawline that could cut glass, dark hair had stayed messy even after he’d run a gloved hand through it, and supple lips that curled up into a gorgeous fucking grin as he looked at his sister.

“Hey Izzy,” he said as he dismounted the bike and caught an overexcited Isabelle who’d run straight to her brother in a hug. “Happy birthday, you little minx.”

Magnus watched on, as he pulled away from Isabelle and, as she continued to chat away, brought one hand up to his mouth, catching the strap around the wrist with his teeth and pulling it open. He didn't stop there, though. His teeth were catching on to the very tip of one of the fingers now, pulling the glove off in one fell swoop.

Oh my poor little heart.

Magnus watched him repeat the operation with this other leather glove, every single brain cell chanting hot hot hot hot hot hot, really, who could blame him when there was this extremely hot, leather-clad bike-riding beauty in front of him?

“-Magnus?”

Magnus snapped back to reality, where he was now face to face with Isabelle and her brother. Isabelle was looking rather smug, as if she could read Magnus’s mind.

“Magnus,” she continued casually, “This is my brother Alec.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alec said, holding out a hand. Magnus shook it, trying not to think of how warm Alec’s hand was. “Izzy has told me a lot about you.”

“Did she now?” Magnus's gaze slanted over to Isabelle, who was still looking smug. “All good things, I hope.”

“Definitely all good things,” Alec grinned.

They headed indoors, where Magnus met the others - her boyfriend Simon, her adopted brother, Jace, his girlfriend Clary, who was also a childhood friend of Simon. Rounds of shots were ordered, and they chattered amongst themselves. Magnus had been worried about feeling left out, but Alec was sitting right next to him, and occasionally turned to Magnus to make idle talk. They’d talked so far about their hobbies and work, and Magnus’s cat, and Alec’s bike, complete with pictures of course.

Now, after the fifth round of shots, Alec got up on his feet, and held out a hand to Magnus. “Wanna dance?”

Magnus blinked, brain going blank in surprise, but his hand thankfully moved on its own to take Alec’s.

“Sure,” he said lightly.

Alec dragged him to the dance door, a sort of vindictive smile on his face as he interlaced his hands behind Magnus’s neck and pulled him close. His fingers were digging into the slightly overgrown hair of Magnus’s undercut, and he briefly forgot how to breathe.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Alec said, grinning. “I just wanted to get you alone.”

Something like a record scratch sounded in Magnus’s head. They were slightly swaying anyway, a contrast to the rather energetic song playing on the club’s loudspeakers.

“Oh?” Magnus raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You’re just…” Alec giggled. “So handsome. You’re even more handsome in person than the pictures Izzy showed me.”

“Isabelle dearest showed you pictures, huh?” Magnus mentally wondered if he needed to thank Isabelle or be annoyed with her. He definitely needed to demand to be shown whatever pictures she’d shown her brother.

“Mmhmm,” Alec grinned a little. His cheeks were a little flushed, courtesy of the alcohol in his system.

The song shifted a little, going from electric vocals to a deep bass guitar, and Alec gasped a little. He pulled away from Magnus, poking him in the chest with a finger as he stepped backward, a glint in his eyes as they met Magnus’s.

“Watch me, okay?” He practically purred, and it took Magnus a moment to realise that the low, shaky breaths he was hearing weren’t from himself or Alec but from the song itself. Alec stood in front of him, eyes gleaming, one hand resting in his hair while the other had a thumb hooked into a belt loop on his pants. 

The beat dropped, and Magnus’s jaw nearly dropped as Alec leant backwards, grinning madly as he thrust his hips in tune with the beat. Alec straightened, only to grab Magnus’s hand and bow over backwards, the taut tension between their hands the only thing keeping him from falling over to the floor.

So, yes, Isabelle lied to him about her brother’s true colours. But watching Alec like this, all inhibitions gone, sweat lining his face and the arched column of his neck, the t-shirt he wore under his leather jacket rising up just the littlest bit to reveal a sliver of skin, teeth biting into his lower lip as his hips swung up and down… he could hardly say he minded.

When the beat subsided and Alec finally pulled himself back up - all thanks to his core and no thanks to Magnus, he asked,

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance?”

“That was the only move I know.” Alec winked. “Among maybe five others. I’ll show them to you when the music wills it.”

Magnus laughed. “You really are something, Alexander.”

Alec grinned, pleased.

He sidled up closer to Magnus. “How about we sneak out of here and go for a ride on my bike? Or maybe a different type of ride?”

Alec winked at him. Magnus laughed again.

“We’ll get to it all once you’re sober, Alexander.” He pulled Alec by an arm around his waist. “We’ll get to it all.”

[dy6nsty]

Posion Tree.

{Mountain Ghoul x GN! Reader} /// mentions of anger issues, burn out, depression, self harm, reader goin through it ngl, reader has a slight fear of touch[?], fluff & comfort, somewhat vent post. Enjoy :)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were unsure with how this all started. You loved the job and the church, doing ministry work. But suddenly, it all stopped. You didn’t feel the same afterwards.

Your hard work began to feel like pressure. All you could think of was how and why. Why can’t you suddenly work like you used to? Why is it that your stomach feels hollow, pools of guilt swirling through your gut with seconds that dropped from the clock. It all felt like hours, your life feeling endless and exasperating as you terribly carried yourself through.

Eye-bags, acne, smile lines, it all became too noticeable. Staring at the mirror endlessly in your uniform as you craved touch and sensation yet were so deeply afraid of it.

When was the last time you felt pretty?

The last time you ever felt excited.

You can’t even recall the last time you felt fulfilled.

You simply weren’t doing this for yourself any longer. This work, this effort, the time you had, it all went for others that a good portion don’t even recognize. There was praise every now and than, and it felt so good. But you always remembered that this work may not even pay off later.

How you try so hard to make a schedule? But it never works, does it?

Back to the start;

You wake up.

Slide out of the bed even to your minds dismay and shrieking of thoughts.

Your robes. You slide them on with slow movement, staring down at your body.

Your fingertips brush over scars that align your skin. They aren’t pretty you think to yourself.

Yet, you know why they’re there. Because no one would listen to you. Where times were rough our you couldn’t comprehend. When your hands would shake as you cried through nights with no moon nor stars, darkening clouds that clutter the sky.

Right. You put your uniform on.

You walk to your rooms bathroom. Staring down at your form—mainly your face. Sluggish, it looks.

Your hands come up to touch it. You can feel the bumps and indents of acne scars, blackheads, and all the clutters your pores and more. You let out an audible ‘eugh’, as you run a finger over your eyebags. They droop down and darken your face, you hate them but love them, it’s hard to explain.

You don’t feel like brushing your teeth. You should. But you can’t pull yourself to do it.

Your hair? What do you do with it. Nothing. You let it sit and be tangled if it even wants.

No one will compliment you so what is your point to trying?

With groggy pace you walk out of your bathroom and out into the halls of ministry. No makeup, no skincare, not even breakfast. You just want this day to end so you can sleep.

It feels like everything upsets you in the morning. The voice of constant chatter and orders are just annoying. They play into everything that could just piss you off.

But those voices still belong to humans.

But, it never feels like it.

Eventually the day has to begin, you’re entitled to do this. What is your choice now since you chose to do this, there’s no arguing with it or yourself.

Planting flowers, raking leaves, moving boxes, doing prayers and chants, being yelled at, sweat clinging to your body, eyelids heavy with the heat that grows, settling things for altars, shifting paintings, rushing down hallways, conversations, ease-dropping, drawing and renewing paint, gifting jewelry to podiums, working from indoors to outdoors, and feeling tired.

This was everything you could’ve dreamed off, right? You’re being sarcastic with yourself.

You’re so caught up in everything you have you pay no mind to what’s around you, who’s around you. Mountain, the people you work with, even yourself you’ve almost forgotten.

All you can remember is that feeling on your arms, how tired you are, the exhaustion you’ve been feeling since 6AM, but you weren’t selfish for it.

There was just.. no alone time left for you now. You didn’t even bother to call in sick.

You work yourself off since you want a purpose.

As the sun sets and the ombré in the sky begins to stir with its purples and oranges that ranges to yellow, you’re finally free to head back to your room.

It’s scattered in trash, atleast thats how you feel.

By the time you’re in that room your hands are on the collar of your uniforms upper garment.

You backup to feel your back pressed up against something.

You quickly turn around–flinching, but it’s only Mountain. Looking down at you with his gentle eyes.

His mask is off, so it’s less intimidating to say the least. His height still makes you uneasy but you’ve learned to love it.

“Dear G….” Read the room. “What brings you hear, Mountain?” You practically sighed out with just had the Ghouls face melting more as his tail flopped against the floor.

“Whats been happening? Has papa been having you work more? It’s been weeks since i’ve seen you.” Mountain said with a desperate plea in his voice.

Your mind saddened up with this as the cherry on top being guilt, finally toppled onto your mindset.

You bit down on your tongue and held it back. How could you be so positive that you could just–entrust–him with this information? The fear of being mocked grew into your head.

“Busy…” You mumbled, piping up to look at him. “Busy, i’ve been busy, Mountain. Plus, I just wanted to help around.” You said as a calm smile rested onto your face even if you were stressed to hell.

“Busy?” Mountain repeated with suspicion.

“You don’t look calm- Y/N- don’t you want to talk?-“

“I am calm.” You snapped before sighing. Everything was just too hot and talking with him made your head ache.

“Y/N, please.” Mountain said with a frown on his face. Dammit. You thought to yourself.

“What, what do you want?” You asked with irritation but Mountain’s look didn’t falter. “Why have you been avoiding me?” He asked.

“I’ve just–“ You paused.

“I really don’t know.” You murmured gently, head hanging low and arms limp by your side.

Mountain’s hands gently cupped the sides of your face, stroking his thumb against your cheek before kissing the temple of your forehead.

“C’mon, lavender, let’s get you cleaned up?” He offered. His smile was dumb… but you loved it.

His hands went underneath your armpits and on your ribs, the subtle twitch of his hand made him pull away.

“No touching, got it.” He made a mental note, aloud.

You nodded, eyes softening down to be content. You adored how he could read it so well, even though he could practically smell sadness from you.

“Bath?” He asked gently. The soft nod of your head was all he needed.

Now that you thought of it. Lavender was the plant that was popular for its tranquility and how it soothed people. You somewhat like the nickname. But you wouldn’t tell him that.

Before you knew it you were in the bath tub, as it filled up almost to the top of Mountain wasn’t quick to turn it off.

His clawed hands combing through your hair, shampoo foam building up into tufts. It felt nice. This felt rewarding.

Mountain had no words to say, he was quiet and allowed the silence to build within the room.

Conditioning your was—surpassingly easy. You thought with all its texture and its knot it would take ages but with Mountain combing through it, it was only a minute.

With a towel wrapped around you, smelling like his body wash, he fluffed your hair up with a smaller towel, as you dried yourself off.

He had gone through your drawers to find something comfortable, even if the clothes you had been sulking in for days on end were comfy, he wouldn’t allow it. He wanted you to feel clean.

It only made you feel better when he had nothing to say about the scars on your body.

Dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that were both loose you felt uncomfortable mentally but comfortable physically.

Maybe too much was showing.

“Look at you, pretty!” Mountain said happily, appearing behind you in the mirror. A small smile cracked onto your lips.

With the pitter-patter of rain on your bedroom windows, you felt relaxed. Mountain was trying to help you with washing your face, brushing your teeth, and he applied vaseline to your lips. It was nice. They didn’t feel so rough anymore.

You finally felt… clean.

That hollow and vast void that had been living in your gut finally felt gone!

That tingling on your arms and thighs had vanished, your mind wasn’t focused on the past.

Mountain walked your back to your bed and layed down with you. Your back pressed up against his chest as his finger curled through your hair.

“Now…” He mumbled, his tone making you uneasy, “can you talk to me?” He said quietly.

That pit. You could feel it forming.

“I…”

“Please.” Mountain insisted.

Your mouth stayed pursed shut as you could feel your throat run dry.

“I’ve been tired, lately, always, really.” I started off slow and steady to see how he’d react. He nodded along.

“I know I don’t work.. really-“ “You work plenty, Y/N.” He cut you off, apologizing after to let you continue.

“But i’ve felt tired. So exhausted. My body is tense with every muscle and movement, my skin is so rough to the touch, eye-bags and wrinkles just litter my face. And.. I know it’s not healthy but I just want to do it again. My scars are ugly, I know that, anyone could know that. But.. sometimes I wish I didn’t quit-even though that’s wrong and it was the better situation. And- every noise.. it makes me become intolerable. I know i’m being dramatic but when there’s so much going on I just want to break something but i’m to afraid to express that, I’ll feel guilty, and than I yell at someone, knowingly that i’ll regret it later on.” You ranted and rambled on, your breathing was so slow yet so shallow with every word you formed.

“What do you do when you get- or feel angry, Y/N?” Mountain asked quietly, leaning forward to hear you.

“Nothing..” You mumbled meekly.

“And your scars?” He continued.

“They disgust me. I don’t understand why I would do this! I look at them all day, they shape my skin and I feel them constantly!” You replied frustrated.

“I like them,” He whispered in a hushed voice, “you made it through a time where you barley survived. You were struggling and no one would listen. I like your scars because they tell me you’re strong, that you carried on. And that you’re here with me now.”

Corny…. but sweet.

“What about how i’ve been feeling lately? I’m just dramatic.” You murmured into yours hands as they covered your face.

Mountain frowned slightly.

“Dramatic? You work, you have to get down and run all over the damn place. Waking up before the sun and making it home what feels like a day later. Plus, the ministry is hard enough. You should be resting, not pushing yourself further.” Mountain said with a gentle and calm voice that made the knots in your back relax.

“But what does that make me.” You murmured. “It makes you better, mentally and physically. You wouldn’t be titled as weak because you wanted to focus on yourself, it’s something we all need.” Mountain replied, he was coming back with these in seconds, Jesus Christ.

His hand gently traced out the scar on your wrist, laid right under your thumb. You leaned into his chest, the exhaustion and insomnia catching up to you.

“Sleep, please.” He murmured gently, his fingertips pushing back your hair as your eyes felt warm with sleep.

The feeling in your chest, you knew sleep was there. Slowly falling into its embrace as Mountain gently kissed up and down your arms, his hands gently moving them up and down.

You couldn’t describe it. But it felt nice.

“Sleep, lavender.”

Corny.

A smile complete your face as your head hit the pillow. Mountain’s arms wrapped around you.

“What about papa?” You asked before Mountain shushed you.

“This is worth it than whatever he has to say to me tomorrow.” You would’ve tried to reason with him.

But. The room was quiet and slightly cold, sheets finally felt right. You finally felt right.

Your eyes met with onyx black, finally asleep. Better than anything.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

5:32AM , 3/31/24 ///

Author here, I really want to say that i’ve lacked posting. But i’m glad to finally be righting as I truly love it. Recently i’ve been feeling sick of it and tried to force myself into it which is something I regret. But i’ve been feeling better :)

[ginkuki]

ITS JUST A FANTASY

AHA! this one is greatly inspired by howl's moving castle by diana wynne jones and is yet another gaaleesbians fic 😌 this year has been a very lesbians one.

the premise is that gaara is a witch type, whose powers aren't super obvious? she is mostly just very lucky and good at finding things - her instincts never lead her astray. neji enlists her help to locate a kidnapped lee and maybe she... slowly falls in love with his betrothed through only the tales he tells. and maybe she realises neji doesn't really love lee and is super bitter about it (neji isn't necessarily a bad guy, he just really wants to be of use to his family and marriage was an essential part of that)

snippet under the cut!!!

It was dawn, on a day plagued by bitter cold Gaara had not experienced since she was a girl, when the stranger arrived on foot.

That would not be all that strange in itself, as her farm had known many travellers in its time, if not for the fact he had arrived without even a scrap of food on him, nor a coat that could withstand the bleak chill. It didn’t snow where Gaara came from, but it did frost, and the frost had a miserable, clinging way of making even your bones feel close to shattering.

The stranger’s shoes were worn down to the tattered sock inside, his lips blue around chattering teeth, and he knocked on Gaara’s door as if she were cruel to deny him her warmth. Entitled brat though he was, she allowed him shelter (but not shelter from the blade tucked into her apron, if he were to grow too bold).

He did not speak much until he was settled before her hearth, a blanket around his shoulders and a steaming mug of warmed milk clutched in his cold-splotched knuckles: “I have heard tales of you, maiden.”

Gaara’s cottage had felt the warmth of querying souls many times over, and all had their tales. The icy shell of rumour was around her skin, thick enough to blunt any touch that might fall upon her. She knew their kind. She knew what they expected of her.

“You will be disappointed to know such tales hold no merit.” The fire flickered and danced, sparks spiralling up with a sound like rainfall splattering the boot-packed dirt outside her door. She watched this instead of the pale slope of her new companion’s nose, his smooth skin telling of a life indoors. His clothes, regardless of spattered mud and superficial wear, were fine. Far more expensive than Gaara’s, by any rate.

“I’d hate to be disappointed, after such a dreadful journey.” The stranger said plainly, “Particularly after wearing through my best shoes.”

Gaara fought valiantly to keep a sneer from curling her lip when she replied, “I dare not neglect such a sacrifice. You’ve travelled so far, after all, and to deny you your whims would be unreasonably cruel.”

He smiled, a thin-lipped one that appeared closer to a split in granite than genuine amusement. “Plucky thing, aren’t you?”

“If I caved to every poor soul who ruined their shoes coming to see me, I would never rest. You will forgive me for being thorough.” Then, in case the stranger hadn’t yet caught her intentions, she took the half-full mug from his hands. “The tramp back to whatever silver platter you crawled off will be long. I suggest going before it gets dark.”

The man tugged Gaara’s blanket more snugly around his shoulders, shuffling his wriggling socked toes closer to the fire. “My betrothed was stolen from me. This is a miserable enough tale, or must I lay my whole predicament on your hearth before you lower yourself to helping me?”

“It might sway my heart.” She said, and stood to toss the mug’s contents into the grass outside her window. It was a waste of her cows’ labour, but it was a better waste than in this arrogant creature’s belly. “So, stranger, begin swaying. Or be on your way.”

The man took a shuddering breath, brows folded tight around his eyes, and began to speak. “The men in my family must be wed before they are entrusted with matters of business.”

[mara-and-its-the-same]

CONGRATS DELLA<333333

There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort 🌷- pick a character or a few and come up with a prompt and I’ll write a fluff blurb <3

steve harrington (what did you expect honestly) + the prompt/hc/idk of eating at some tiny diner at 2am because why not?? (i hope that's ok)

once again, congrats<3

Thank you my love 🥰🥰🥰

(trying 2nd person 😬, we'll see how it goes) (not proofread)

☆☆☆

"No, stop thinking! No thoughts, just answer!"

"Steve, this is a big question, it's the middle of the night, we're running out of gas, we could get kidnapped for all we know, it's a big question."

"Honey," the endeared irritation apparent in his tone, even though he was keeping his eyes on the road and you couldn't see his face. "Diner or truckstop? Exit's comin' up."

"Uhh..."

"Pick now, pick now, pick now," he urged you on as he started to veer off towards the exit.

"Diner!"

"Perfect! And it's right here." The neon sign lit up the spaces between the trees and the snowglow through the winter air made it seem like the forest lining the road was glowing.

He pulled in and found the closest spot to the entrance, just to make you more comfortable. "You got your jacket?" he asked you.

"I threw it in the trunk."

"Just keep mine then." It was laying over your lap for half the ride anyway, a perfect blanket.

"You can't not wear a jacket, you'll freeze."

"You can't wear a frozen jacket."

"Then we'll share."

"Wha-" But you were already waving him out of the car.

"Put it on."

"Baby, no"

"Put it on and come here. Come on, come on. We don't have all day, I'm freezing already."

He finally, reluctantly, put it on and you pulled his arms tight around you with your back to his chest. "Right foot first. Whaa! No, your other right."

"It's icy, babe, be careful. And my right is your right."

"My right is your right when you haven't been driving for 4 hours. This foot, Vermont shuffle, come on."

It was the longest minute ever, the kind of freezing that makes your joints hurt just thinking about it seeping into your bones and making the three yards into the diner more like an exodus.

Both of you sighed the moment the warmth of indoor heating touched your skin. He spun you around and pushed your arms under his jacket, holding you close with the hot skin of his back against your cold palms.

The obvious display of affection didn't stop the clearly overtired hostess from offering a sweet smile.

"Hi, uh, two please?" Steve asked through chattering teeth.

"Right this way." She sat you both at a wraparound booth right under a vent and Steve wrapped his coat back around your shoulders as soon as you were settled.

"Thank you, and could we have 2 coffees please?"

She nodded and went off to grab the pot. "You should sleep the rest of the way, don't have another coffee." You said as you smushed closer to him, part for the warmth, mostly just because he's him.

"I know, they're both for you. But you know you can wake me up right? Even if it's just to tell me whatever random thought popped into your head? Or you can't figure out the radio, whatever you want."

"Yes, I know, but I also know that I want you to sleep. I don't want you all grumpy tomorrow."

"I won't be grumpy."

"You'd be so grumpy. You'd be hiding behind your sunglasses all day, and asking me when we can go home. Na-ah, don't even argue."

The waitress came back and Steve ordered for you since you couldn't speak through your mouth full of coffee.

***

"You're kidding." You slapped your palm against the table at Steve's gossip about the kids.

"I am not, I got this straight from Dustin. And he got it right from Max."

"Max didn't tell you?"

"No, why would she?"

"Because you're the biggest gossips I know! You two plus Eddie in one room and that's half of Hawkins' rumor mill,” you said.

"We are not."

"Absolutely you are, eat your breakfast-dinner, I need you sleeping."

"Why, you don't want my charming, irresistible company?"

"No, I do, you know I do, but we literally just had this conversation, and your snores make much better company than grumpy old man Steve."

He gasped and clutched his chest, he's been spending too much time with Eddie. "I am not an old man."

"Mhm, worse than Hopper sometime," you picked up his fork, "but if you sleep, there's no old man." He let you bring the fork to his mouth and spoke once he swallowed.

"That sounds way too ominous, like you're trying to poison me."

"What? How!?"

"'No old man' like I'm never gonna make it to old man."

"Hmm...Do you want to be old?"

"Like now? Or just eventually old?"

"Eventually."

"I mean, yeah? I get to be old with you right?"

"Yeah, why, is that a must?"

"Absolutely it is."

"You wanna be with me when you're old and bald?"

"No no, honey, Harrington's don't bald. Have you seen those pictures of my grandpa in the hallway? How many full heads of grey hair have you ever seen?"

"I can't say very many."

"Exactly, a Harrington specialty. And we'd have a cat, when we're old. "

“Nursing home roomies?”

He looked practically offended at the notion. “Nursing home?! Absolutely not, no way, we spent however long raising those kids, the least they could do is take care of us.”

“Hmm, so no nursing home, only kids—“ “and the cat.” “—and the cat. What if they’re mean to us? Elder abuse.”

“No no, our kids are too good for that. They wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Have you been planning this? Is this what you’re thinking about when Robin calls me because you’re staring off into space?”

“No way baby, this is straight off the cuff.”

“Flying off the handle.”

The hand back over the chest and a shoulder nudging yours. “Rude.”

“Drink your juice.”

Tags: @new-romqntics @sw34terw34ther @beezywriting @haydipoof @avipoof

[good-night-doll]

Tis the season~

•Part 3–Ice Skating

: As the Christmas season creeps around the corner, you can't help but want to show your girlfriend all the different activities there are to the season other than decapitating the jolly fat man. 

Word count: 900

Warnings: None

Tis the season to appreciate the outdoor activities alongside the indoor ones too. An activity like ice skating- for instance.

The ice rink has been my best friend growing up, a place where I would go to find all my best and worst memories. It has an irreplaceable place in my heart as it's always been my comfort zone, a place I'd go to cry and a place I'd go to cure my boredom for a while.

I've missed the place as it's been years now since I last visited, and with new journeys comes new people- like Wednesday, who I've dragged out the house on this freezing night to skate around with me before it closes in a few hours time.

"I really don't see the point" Wednesday scoffs, standing by the entrance to the rink- her hands grasping the railing beside her for that extra support.

I roll my eyes, breathing in a steady deep breath to calm my adrenalized nerves from overpowering me. I gleefully look out over the sight with a recalling mind- a sense of pride washing over my top layer of skin.

The smooth, oblong ice rink has a low wall with a metal railing atop that outlines its perimeter. Street lights illuminate the streets around the rink- looking like spot lights for the criminals looking to snatch any last minute grub at a conveniently unguarded house.

Snow-dusted trees and snowdrifts litter the local park just across the road. There's a restaurant on the other end of the park- lit up in golden colours of rich red and fine green to match the festive season's colour palette. Skyscrapers stand in the mist of night just beyond- barely recognisable if you weren't to squint.

But the most exciting part- the few people skating the night away around the rink. It just shows unity in an odd but seeable way, and it has me smiling silently at the view.

Memories from childhood seem so real now, almost so real that I could just about taste the bitter cold sensation I would get when our local Hockey team would lose because a key player was in a world of their own- just enjoying their time on the rink. But did I ever care? No. I cared solely for the rink- not the small flimsy trophy we would've received back in the early years of the 2000s up until the later ones of 2010.

My parents never really gave my addiction much thought, especially since there's a long line of yetis in my bloodline.

How the bright lights around the rink tormented me as I messed up the teams streak with my joy for purely just skating- how the local mothers and fathers would yell at me to do better and how my own teammates and coach looked down upon me. It all seems so hazed now.

"Do we have to do this? Why can't we go home and just bask in the warmth of its confinements?" 

"Because" I pause to look at Wednesday, her face sour with a scarce demeanour "this is special to me" 

Without another word, I take Wednesday's hand and slowly but surely lead her into the icy terrain. Her ankles wobble from the new balance required, her hands grasping my snow glistened coat tightly and her bottom lip tucked so delicately between her snow-like teeth.

"We'll take it slow, okay?" Wednesday only nods to this, complying with a heavy heart as I drag her along the oblong ring that forms the rink. 

The blades on our skates cut along the ice, leaving trails and indents in the frozen over floor. Very faint chatter off to the sides are evident and even the faint music playing from the speakers around apply that Christmas-like feeling as they place all sorts of December hits.

"How do you feel?" I ask, sensing Wednesday's graduate build up of confidence.

"Better…"

"Want me to try and let go?"  

"I, uh-" she evidently gulps, looking at her own feet "okay"

I slowly release Wednesday, allowing her to slowly separate from her only beam of support- me. 

Her knees are bent, hands flimsy by her sides as she struggles to keep herself up. Her eyes are still glued to her bladed feet with black skates- her braids frozen still against the cold weather as they stand like icicles.

However, just as she tries to stand tall, she loses her footing and falls forward- causing her to fall straight onto me. Luckily though, I was able to stabilise her fall before we had both fallen to the hard floor beneath us- causing us to become some twisted meat pretzel on the white ice.

Her gloved hands squeeze into my arms as she regains recognition, looking up at me to confirm she isn't yet on the floor. And when she registers my smiling face, her own shifts and contorts into swirls of mixed pinks and reds. Even the very tips of her ears are heated with the warm colour.

"You okay?" I ask, staring obviously at the blushing girl as she cautiously turns away.

"We're going home" she mumbles back, turning as she grabs onto the railings that are a good five feet or so away- shuffling herself over over the exit.

I laugh watching her as she gradually makes her way to our locker- face ever red and eyes glaring at anyone staring.

[idolish7imagines]

hi! is it okay if i request nagi x reader scenario where they're cuddling for warmth? or maybe just nagi with a s/o who gets cold easily?

Rokuya Nagi x Reader :: Warmth

A\n: i hope this is what you wanted anon!

.

You never were good with cold weather. From childhood all the way up until now.

Even being out in the chilly, windy weather of winter or fall for just a few seconds would leave your teeth chattering and scrambling to get to the next indoor area with heat.

This doesn't do you any favors when you're waiting for your boyfriend to finish a shoot in an area with snow. He'd already notified you of this and in an attempt to be prepared, you put on your heaviest coat, paired with a sweater, scarf, mittens and hat (most of which were actually presents from him)

For a second you swore you could still see your breath even with your face mostly hidden beneath the scarf around your neck.

Trying not to get in the way of the filming crew, you stayed in the back for now, sitting on an outside bench trying to warm up. They give you a few strange, but quickly fleeting looks as they pass by hauling equipment with them.

You were praying they would wrap up soon or else you'd surely be an icicle by the time your boyfriend would get the chance to look at you again.

Eventually, like a shining light to save you, you can see Nagi and the other i7 members coming back from the site they were filming at a little ways away from where you and the remaining crew were.

Nagi's lips form into a small 'o' shape before immediately coming over to you and gently placing his gloved hands on your arms, standing in front of you. The distance between your bodies are closed as he pulls your torsos together into something resembling a hug.

"Sorry for making you wait so long, my love." His vivid blue eyes peer down at yours.

"Its okay.." You smile, even though it isn't visible under your scarf.

Somehow it seems like he can still tell you are though, probably through the slight change in your eyes, and gives a soft smile back.

"Tsumugi will be here soon to pick us up, I will keep you warm until then. You don't mind being this close to me, do you?" There's a slight playfulness to his tone as he leans his face close to you, noses almost touching. You can see his breath too.

"Never." Your smile widens.

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

Nagi wishes there were some sort of fireplace the two of you could sit in front of with hot cocoa, but realistically a fireplace being in a dorm as chaotic as the i7 group could get would probably cause more harm than good.

So for now you'd have to settle for just cuddling on the living room couch with cocoa.

You were probably a little too wrapped up in several covers and blankets, that added with still wearing the scarf you had on earlier. Nagi had piled them all onto you in order for you to warm up as fast as possible, but if you don't start peeling off layers soon the good kind of heat might turn into the bad, stuffy kind.

The heater was also on for all of their sakes after filming in such cold weather. Fortunately most of the other members were in their rooms or planning to head back out soon...except for Sogo on the couch across from the two of you but he's quiet enough to be able to pretend its just you and your boyfriend.

Magical Cocona was playing on the TV but it was at a low volume so you were only half paying attention to it.

You could tell Nagi was fighting sleep trying to watch it, but his head kept lulling against yours.

"Tired?" You ask in a small voice, looking up at him. It wasn't hard to believe since he'd been working the majority of the day.

"No..I have to fight it.." He whines, sounding like he's talking more to himself than you.

A chuckle escapes you, leaning more against him and sharing your cover.

"Are you alright now, darling?" He lifts his sleepy eyelids to look at you. Somehow even when sleepy he still looked beautiful, his blonde locks a little unkempt than usual, strands falling over his eyes.

"Mhm. Now that i'm here and comfortable with you."

"Don't say such heart stopping things while I'm on the brink of collapse.." He mutters, earning another laugh from you. "I'm glad. I am still sorry you had to wait in the cold."

"Its not your fault." You slowly lean upwards to press a kiss to his temple.

"I fear you would die if I brought you to Northmeir.."

This time you stare with half-lidded eyes. You can't tell if he's more dramatic when he's tired or normal.

"I won't deny it would be rough. But I still want to go..maybe not in winter though."

"You would brave the cold weather for me? I just told you not to say romantic things when I can't respond properly.." He has a small smile on his face, looking at you fondly.

"Get some rest then so you can." You pat his cheek, before yawning. "I'm going to sleep too.."

"Alright. Sweet dreams, my (Y/N)." Your boyfriend's voice is close to a whisper, and you can tell he's going to be asleep in less than 10 seconds.

"Sweet dreams, Nagi."

[feyhunter78]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing, especially your rop Elrond work🥹 I saw the list of fluffy/comfort prompts and was wondering if you’d be able to do #3 with him? Thanks so much!!

I'm so happy you love my writing!!!! Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Ice Skating Gone Wrong

This takes #3 off the list for Elrond!

You despised winter, the cold, the ice, the red noses, the darkness of the days, it was all terrible. Elrond on the other hand, loved winter. He loved the snow, the fashion, the excuse to stay close together, and the winter festivities.

So, you went ice skating with him. A foolish idea as you were not a proficient ice skater, and you did not do well in the cold. Elrond skated circles around you, beaming like a child as he held your hands and skated backwards, guiding you around ruts and bumps in the ice.

“You are doing very well y/n, soon you shall be able to skate without my help.” He said, increasing his speed.

“No, I do not think I will be that skilled.” You said, gripping his hands tighter.

He shook his head. “Nonsense, you must have faith in yourself.”

You had faith, faith that your human side was winning out against your elven side and making you regret not bringing a second coat. “Perhaps I should simply sit on the shore and watch you skate? I regret that I am holding you back from truly enjoying yourself.”

Elrond came to a smooth stop, and you all but ran into him. “Y/N, teaching you, is far more enjoyable than skating alone.”

You gave him a small smile, determined to skate alone so Elrond would not be stuck holding your hand the entire time.

It took a little bit, but soon you were skating on your own, though the fear of falling was still present within your mind.

“Skate faster, try and catch up to me.” Elrond called, looking over his shoulder at you.

You gathered your courage and did as he said, nervously increasing your speed. As you neared him you let out a joyous laugh, it felt as if you were flying. Then you heard a crack, and the ice gave out beneath you.

Elrond’s frightened face flashed before your eyes before all you could see was dark water. Cold shot through your veins and you pushed upwards, panicked. A warm hand grabbed you and pulled you from the water and onto the ice.

“Y/N, by the Valar, are you alright?” Elrond whisked you to the shore, and set you on the bank, kneeling down and cupping your face.

Your teeth were chattering so hard you couldn’t get out the words, and his eyes scanned your face, angst clear within them.

“My starlight, oh my love.” He breathed, pulling you to him, his hand stroking your wet hair.

You managed to wrap your arms around him, seeking out the warmth that radiated from him. “I am—so—so cold.” You shivered, feeling the ice crystallizing on your hair and clothing.

Elrond scooped you into his arms, holding you to his chest, and carried you back to your shared chambers. He helped you remove your soaked clothing and sat you near the fire.

You held your hands out towards it, adrenaline still rushing through you.

Elrond returned with a cup of tea. “Here, hold this and let it warm you for a moment before you drink it.”

You held the teacup in your hand, basking in the warmth, but it was still not enough.

He saw your continued shivers and sat beside you. “Are you warm enough, my starlight?”

“I do not know if it is the cold or the lingering fear.” You admitted, looking up at him.

“Here, have my cloak.” He said, shrugging it off and securely wrapping it around you.

It smelled of him, and his body heat soon transferred to you. Slowly, your shivering stopped, and you leaned against him as you drank your tea. “Next time we do an indoor activity.” You said quietly, smiling up at Elrond.

“Next time, I will not let you out of arm's reach.” He said, kissing the crown of your head and holding you tightly. “I will not risk losing you again.”

You kissed him softly, the warmth of his lips chasing away the lingering chill of yours. “You saved me, remember that. But I will not argue if you wish to always hold me.” You scooted closer to him, and let his warmth envelop you. Perhaps winter was not all bad.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority