#now I’m craving sleepy snuggle fics

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I want to take a 100 year nap, Wild, move over.

[cozage]

HELLO IVE BEEN WAITINT DOR THIS MOMENT CAN I REQUEST FOR LAW A ONE SHOT OF HIS SO BEING SICK N HES JUST SUPER WORRIED N SCARED FOR HER WELL-BEING AND NURTURES THEM BACK TO HEALTH THANJ YOU I LOVE TOU HAVW A GEWAT DAY/NIGHT TOODLES POOKIE PIE

A/N: Apparently I don’t know how to write short fics anymore. Here you are :) Word Count: 3k Characters: gn reader x Law CW: reader sickness, serious sickness, angstttttt (with fluff at the end. i'm not a monster)

Sickness

It took a sniffle for Law to finally see the signs. 

You were already asleep, sprawled out in the bed when it happened. You had been abnormally warm today, spending most of it in a tank top and shorts despite being in a winter ecosystem. When it was time for meals, you opted for ice cream over anything else. You hadn’t been very hungry, and that was the only thing you craved. The crew had made fun of you, but you hadn’t shot back any witty remarks like normal.

And then at bedtime, you had immediately pulled Law into bed when you both entered the room. Your cold feet pressed against his calves, causing him to hiss and jerk away from you. But you just gave a soft, sleepy giggle, wrapped your arms around him, and fell asleep almost immediately. He enjoyed your snuggles, but not even ten minutes later, you had pushed him away and kicked the blankets off, sprawling out in the bed in the little clothing you had on.

It’s not exactly where Law thought the evening was going. You had been so clingy over the past few hours, silently begging him to go to bed. He just thought the two of you were just playing a game of teasing, one that would end in a night of fun. 

And then you sniffled in your sleep and readjusted, groaning from the heat in the room. And Law realized what he had been missing all day. You were sick. How could he even call himself a doctor if he couldn’t see the obvious signs with you, the person he knew best? 

He needed to run a scan. He wasn’t sure how serious it was, and early intervention was always the best cure. He slowly, painstakingly, tried to get out of bed without disturbing you. 

“Law?” Your voice was thick with sleep, your eyes only opening a fraction of an inch. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he assured you. He bent down to kiss your forehead, but thought better of it. If it was contagious, he didn’t want to catch it. Instead, he put a hand to your face, and his breath caught in his throat. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you. Your skin was hot to the touch as he swept your matted hair away from your forehead. 

He was panicking now, but he gave you a tense smile. He had to maintain his composure. “Go back to sleep, alright?”

“I’m hot,” you whined, flipping over your pillow and pressing the cool silk fabric to your face. “I don’t feel so good.”

“I know,” he cooed, still brushing the hair out of your face. “Let’s get to the bottom of this, okay? See what’s going on.”

You gave a weak nod, too tired to do anything else. “Can we just do the exam here?”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. One arm slid under your back, the other slid behind your knees, and Law scooped you up in one swift, gentle motion. 

You laid your head against his chest, and he could feel the heat coming off your body in waves. He forced his heart to remain steady and unbothered, fully aware that you could hear it. 

Silently carrying you to the medical room, his mind raced through the options of what you could be sick with. It was likely a virus, which meant it would be difficult for him to remove. And viruses could change and multiply on a dime. You were already displaying signs of-

“Law.” Your groggy voice jarred him from his thoughts. “I’m fine. Stop panicking.”

He had been so focused on his heart, he hadn’t been paying attention to the rest of his body. His grip on you had gotten too tight, his pace was just short of sprinting, and his breath was shallow and rapid. 

“You should’ve told me,” he said, carefully maneuvering you through the examination room door. 

“I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s just a cold.”

“It could be-”

“Don’t start spiraling,” you scolded, giving a light cough. “Just do your job.”

His eye twitched in irritation, but he wouldn’t say anything because you were sick. He knew you were right, of course. But he hated when you had to call him out like that. He placed you gently on the cool metal table, and you hummed in delight at the refreshing sensation against your skin. 

He grabbed his sword and ran a quick scan, trying to find the source of your sickness. 

A red icon appeared in your scan around your lungs. “Bronclima,” Law breathed. “A very rare parasitic virus that can be caught in winter islands. The virus can hibernate for hundreds of years, usually residing in old snow caves.”

You gave a weak laugh. “Like the snow cave we climbed down into yesterday, huh?”

“This isn’t funny!” Law snapped. He ran to his bookshelf, searching for any information about it. “Bronclima is extremely rare and…”

“Deadly?” you finished for him. You suddenly felt infinitely more tired. “Can’t you just take it out?”

“Parasitic viruses are tricky,” he mumbled, flipping through an old book. “You have to get it all or else your body just becomes more susceptible to them. It’s hard to use a room technique on viruses in general, but parasitic ones are alive and can move, which makes it almost impossible.”

“Antibiotics, then.”

“No.” Law’s teeth were grit together; you could tell he was only keeping it together so you wouldn’t break down in a panic. “Antibiotics only work on bacterial infections. Viruses just have to run their course.”

“The strong survive,” you hummed, closing your eyes. “The weak die. I see.”

“You’re not dying,” Law hissed. “Bronclima only likes the cold, so we're going to keep you hot and force this thing to die, okay?”

“I’m already so hot, though,” you whined, rolling over on the exam table. At least the metal helped you cool down.

“Good. Stay hot. Stay alive.” Law picked you back up, and you groaned at the sudden movement and absence of the cold surface. 

He carried you to the shower without a word and set you down inside it. You could feel the anxiety rising in him as he fiddled with the temperature gauge, and turned the shower on.

You cried out in pain as the hot water hit you, and your hands flew up to try and block as much of the water as you could. Your skin immediately started to turn red, welting as the water cascaded over you.

Law saw your reaction and quickly tested the water with his hand, but it was only lukewarm. He clenched his teeth and slowly turned the water hotter, adjusting the nozzle so the water was raining down directly on you.

“Law!” you shrieked, trying to get out of the way without moving. You couldn’t find the energy to crawl away from the water, even though your skin felt like it was burning off. Law watched you carefully, turning the water temperature up slowly. 

“Please,” you sobbed, curling up into a sitting fetal position. “Please stop. You’re going to kill me, Law.”

“Hey.” Law crouched down next to you and tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. Tears and scalding water streaked down your face and blurred your vision, but you could see the familiar outline of him. He had stripped down to only his boxers, and he pulled you into his lap and held you close to him as the water rained down on your both. He kissed the top of your head, trying his best to comfort you. “You’re strong. You can handle this, okay?”

You let out a sob in response, but you nodded into his inked chest. You had been through worse, though you couldn’t remember a specific time at the moment.

The two of you stayed there for a long time. You weren’t sure exactly how time was passing, so you counted how many times his fingers ran down your hair. It was 259 strokes before you finally passed out from exhaustion and pain. 

You woke up, now in a steaming hot tub, Law still holding you. You let out a soft whimper from the pain, and Law jolted up. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, readjusting you slightly against him. “I must’ve dozed off.”

You gave another small nod, too tired to do anything else. 

“We need to get your entire body submerged,” Law said, his voice steely. “At least up to your shoulders.”

“Law, please-”

“I know.” His voice broke when he spoke. “I’m sorry, but I can’t lose you, okay? So please keep fighting.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice. He was on the verge of tears, barely holding it together for you. 

You had to fight for him. You owed him that much, and so much more. He always had faith in you, he was always saving you. This was the least you could do. Clenching your teeth and bracing yourself, you completely submerged yourself in the scalding bathwater. 

The heat of the water took your breath away, and you clamped your hands over your mouth to prevent any more air from escaping. You felt like your skin was melting off, but you forced yourself to stay completely under. You’d stay under as long as you had to if it meant getting this wretched virus out of your system. 

Two strong hands grabbed your arms and pulled you back to the surface. Law’s golden eyes pierced into your soul, scanning your face for any signs of distress. 

“Let me go back under,” you begged between heavy breaths. 

He scowled. “So you can drown?!”

You pulled away from him and plunged back into the water. It still burned, but it wasn’t as hot as before. 

Law immediately pulled you back up, trying to get you to calm down. 

“Soup,” you gasped, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I need soup.”

“What has gotten into you? Where’d this energy come from?”

“I want to live. I want to be with you. I’m not being taken out by some stupid virus. So go get me soup!”

Law grabbed your face and went to kiss you, but you pushed him away. As much as you needed his lips as encouragement, you couldn’t have him getting sick too.

“Soup!” You pushed him out of the tub, and he ran out the door in his boxers. You could only hope nobody else on the ship was awake yet. You were certain that would cause a lot of questions between captain and crew. 

Alone in the tub, the water felt much warmer. You could feel yourself sweating, and you were starting to get nauseous. Your body felt like it was on fire, but you forced yourself to keep your body submerged. You desperately wanted to get out, just for a second. But you couldn’t. You refused to give this parasitic virus even a moment of rest. Law was right. You were not weak. 

He came back into the room with a bowl of soup, and your nausea increased just from seeing the steam rolling off of it. 

Bile rose up your throat and into your mouth at the smell of the hot dumplings. You leaned over the side of the tub. “Law, I think-” 

Law quickly put the bowl down and grabbed a trash can, his skilled fingers wrapping around your hair and holding it back just as you emptied your stomach into the bin.  

“It’s okay,” Law soothed. “You’re okay.”

Once you were finally done, he set the trash can aside and grabbed a rag to help you get cleaned up. “That’s a good sign,” he said, brushing your stringy hair away. 

You gave a light laugh. “How are you not completely disgusted with me right now? I’m a mess.”

“I could never be disgusted with you.” His voice was so caring and soft, you almost broke out in tears. 

“Soup,” you choked out, desperate to change the subject as tears welled in your eyes. You didn't want to be physically and emotionally vulnerable with him right now. One was enough for him to handle.

He gave you a small knowing smirk but didn’t say anything. Instead, he rested the soup bowl on the edge of the tub and climbed back in with you again. 

You reached for a bowl, but he intercepted your hands and pulled you into his chest instead. “Give yourself a moment to recuperate,” he said. “How’s the water feel?”

“Hot,” you groaned, but you nuzzled your head into his chest. “You’re a nice addition though.”

He trailed his finger up and down your spine, both of you laying against each other in silence. You could almost fall asleep like this if the water weren’t so uncomfortable. 

After a few minutes, he tapped lightly on your back. “Ready for the soup?”

“I’m probably going to barf again,” you warned. 

“I think I can handle it. I’m a doctor after all.”

You rolled your eyes, but picked up the bowl. It was so hot that you almost dropped it from shock, but Law grabbed your hands to steady it, and he nodded at you encouragingly.

The best course of action would probably be to drink the broth first, and then eat the dumplings. You pressed your lips to the rim of the bowl and inhaled. The steam burned your nostrils and the back of your throat. Every part of you was screaming in anguish, but you opened your mouth and tilted the bowl upwards. 

The broth flooded your senses- first with flavor, and then immediately with a burning sensation. You sputtered and choked from the pain, and Law pulled the bowl away from you as you coughed, attempting to clear your airway. You tried to settle yourself down, but you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. It was like you were choking and hyperventilating all at once. There was too much air, yet not enough. 

Law put the bowl of soup on the edge of the tub and began rubbing your back, trying to get you to calm down. You could see the panic in his eyes, despite his cool exterior. 

“What hurts?” He asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you said between coughs. “Just burns.”

After another few minutes, you finally calmed down enough to breathe without coughing. “Let’s try again,” you offered. 

“I hate being so useless,” Law said. “You’re working so hard and I can’t even do anything to help.”

“What are you talking about?” you scoffed. “You’re the only thing keeping me going. Every ounce of me wants to give up. And I would’ve if it weren’t for you.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Being a doctor is more than just operations, okay? You’re doing the best you can. Cut yourself some slack, Trafalgar Law.” The amount of energy you had to use just to form those words was making you a little dizzy, but you didn’t regret it. “Now give me that soup.”

It burned going down. You wanted to scream and cry and curse, but you didn’t. Even with tears streaming down your face, you drank the entire bowl. You could feel your stomach bubbling, trying to decide if it should reject the liquid again, but it stayed down. 

Law moved you to the shower again, and you let the hot water rush over your skin while he refilled the tub. The water from the showerhead still burned, but it was more like a tingling sensation now. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. You’d mention it to Law later; you didn’t want to inconvenience him with possible bad news at the moment. 

“Ready to move back to the tub?” he asked, poking his head into the shower. 

You gave a weak nod and pulled yourself to your feet. You began to take a step, but stumbled and fell. Law closed the gap between you in an instant, catching you and keeping you steady before you hit the ground. 

“You’re standing,” Law said, looking at you as if you had just performed a miracle. “You haven’t stood on your own since you got into bed last night.”

You gave him a smile. “Help me to the bath? I don’t think I’m quite ready to walk on my own.”

“You’re standing, though! Do you know how big of a deal this is?” You could hear the excitement in Law’s voice, which sparked your own joy. 

“Tell me.” You took a step towards the bath, your arm wrapped around Law for support. 

“You don’t understand,” Law said. “Bronclima takes your energy from you and you never get it back as long as it’s alive. If you’re regaining energy, then…” He helped you into the tub, afraid to say the last part. He was scared to hope for the best outcome. 

The water felt warm against your skin, but in an almost pleasant way now. You sat down and sunk into the water so that your entire body up to your shoulders was submerged once again. 

A blue hue emitted around the room, and Law ran another scan on your body and you closed your eyes and enjoyed the steamy atmosphere. 

“Clear,” Law mumbled. “It’s clear.” You could hear the scan being run again, and the soft positive beep of no issues being found. 

“Am I cured, doctor?” you hummed, your eyes still closed. 

“It’s gone,” Law whispered, hardly believing it himself. That virus had a 15% survival rate and usually lasted for days. And you beat it in less than 10 hours. 

“We can’t let this bathwater go to waste.” Your entire body suddenly felt very limp, worn out from what you had just put it through. “Come lay with me.”

“In the bath?” Law raised an eyebrow, but you held a hand out, beckoning him in. You knew he couldn’t say no to you after all you had been through. 

He gingerly stepped into the tub and rested his back against the wall of the tub. You felt his tattooed arms wrap around you and pull you up onto his chest. You rested on him, the water feeling much more inviting now than it had earlier. 

“This is nice,” you murmured, already starting to doze off to sleep.

“We can lay here as long as you want,” Law said. He held his composure until he was certain you were asleep, and then cried silent tears of relief until his eyes were red and puffy. He had been so close to losing you because of his negligence, and he vowed to never take you for granted again. 

[katyawriteswhump]

Closer–a stranger summer/steddie microfic

For @astrangersummer wk 4 prompts, outdoors/camping and @steddiemicrofic May prompt, ‘top.’ Thank you also to @bananahoneycomb and yesdanger for inspiration on discord :) All my stranger things fic are also here on AO3

Rating: M CW: sex Words: 510  Tags: established steddie, hurt/comfort, smut, nightmares, cute, fluff, post s4 eddie lives, top eddie, bottom steve.

...

Eddie rolled into another excruciatingly uncomfortable position on the lumpy earth.

“The great outdoors sucks,” he informed the Milky Way, which swept above him. “It's a one-way-ticket to insomnia-ville.”

In the adjacent sleeping bag, Steve snored softly.

This had been Steve’s idea: “We saved the world. It totally owes us good times.”

Nonsensically to Eddie, 'good times’ included sleeping on a hilltop under the stars.

Now, Eddie rested his chin in his hand and watched Steve sleep. Steve looked pretty, bathed in moonlight. Eddie’s heart swelled with love. Christ, if he told Steve how cute his sleepy snufflings were, Steve would chew his head off.

Wouldn’t change my bitchy darling for a sell-out gig at the Garden…

Steve gasped, began fighting his sleeping bag. “No! Robin!”

“Sssssh, Babe.” Eddie leaned over Steve, whose arm escaped his cocoon, flailing wildly.  “Ow!”

Steve sat up. “Wha—?”

“Bad dream?” Eddie rubbed his nose, not exactly stunned. The nightmares usually started when they both slept, and Steve rolled out of Eddie’s arms. “Bats or creepy vines, honey?”

“Both.” Steve blinked. “Shit, did I..?”

“You’re no demo-bat. See? No blood.”

Steve buried his fingers in his messy hair. “Jesus, I’m sorry. This idea was dumb. Thank Christ the kids ditched us, Robin cycled home, and—"

“Shhh.” Eddie pressed his forefinger to Steve’s lips. “I got to watch your ass go as you raced to the summit. Totally worth it.” Steve’s mouth quirked toward a smile. “Besides, it’s my turn to look after you. In hospital, you sat with me so long, Wayne complained he couldn’t get a front-row seat. Cuddle?”

Steve nodded, squeezed into Eddie’s sleeping bag. Spooning Steve from behind, Eddie rubbed circles on Steve’s belly, till Steve stopped trembling.

Eddie might’ve dozed off then. However, his dick nestled against Steve’s ass…

“Seriously?” Steve scrubbed against Eddie’s semi.

“Up for it, honey?”

“Totally. But the kids—"

“—lit a campfire miles away.”

“Fine. I wanna feel something other than my skin crawling with horror.”

Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s dick.

“Not that,” Steve mumbled. “Want to feel you in me, dipshit.”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

“Shut the fu—Gnng!”

Eddie hand-jobbed Steve into a frenzy anyhow, then worked his fingers into Steve, slicked with lube and mingled juices. When Eddie finally eased inside, Steve clenched super-hard about him, which was super-sweet.

Nearly pushed Eddie over the edge waaaaay too soon. He paused, relishing Steve’s growling gasps.

“You finally snoozing, Munson?”

“Nope. Finally waking up.”

He fucked Steve hard. Steve finally quit complaining: “Yes. Th-there. Pleeease… Christ!”

They both came hard—Steve yelling and messily—before snuggling in Steve’s fresh sleeping bag.

Seven hours later, Steve flipped over in the circle of Eddie’s arms.

“Good sleep, Stevie?”

“Best in forever. Love being so close. You?”

“Pretty shitty. I crave my soft mattress. Buuuut… I've a theory what might stop the nightmares.” Steve started apologising. Eddie kissed Steve’s nose: “I reckon we should try sharing my sleeping-bag every night, home-sweet-home in bed.”

“Okay,” mumbled Steve. “Jesus, I came all over the thing! Let’s launder it first, right?”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: GO TOUCH SOME GRASS SLUTS. -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*********

TWENTY-FOUR.

You decided you never wanted kids after working with the ones at UA, but little sleepy Eri curled up on the couch with you beginning to change your mind. 

“But I’m not even tiiiired,” she whines. Her head is in your lap, her silver locks of long hair splayed out on the couch and over your leg. On the TV, the movie “Sing”–another movie Eri is obsessed with–is playing on mute.

“Eri, honey, you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle, stroking her hair out of her face. “C’mon and let your daddy put you to bed. Besides, Nea needs a sleeping buddy, doesn’t she?” 

Nea is curled up in a chair in the corner of the room, completely at ease judging by how quiet she is. You swear that you could die from cuteness right now. You knew Nea and Eri would get along well from the way she gave Nea her dinner of cat kibble before she made up a plate of pizza for her own.

‘Such a sweetheart!’ you had cooed in your head, pressing a hand to your heart. 

Tonight was by far the best night you’ve had in a while. Just spending the night watching movies with Eri, snuggled up with Aizawa on the couch with some pizza and wine for the adults, was enough to fill you with all the joy you’ve been craving for days now. You felt so complete with Aizawa’s arm slung around you, the other around Eri, and Nea racing across the floor with her new sparkly balls that Aizawa complained about stepping on later. 

With the three of them, you felt at home. You know that it’s stupid and way too soon, but you couldn’t deny the content feeling that washed over you when you felt Aizawa’s stubble when he pecked you on the head during the first movie and heard the giggle of Eri when Nea jumped up in front of the TV. You love seeing them happy and it surprises you how much you want to be a part of that happiness. 

“Are we still seeing Across The Spider-verse tomorrow?” Eri mumbles sleepily as you continue to stroke her head.

“Yes, tomorrow afternoon; just like Daddy promised. He already bought the tickets.” You had also promised to go with them, pushing all of your errands to the morning just to go with them. 

Eri turns over, facing you now with her eyes closed. “Yaaaay,” Eri tiredly groans, raising her arms in the air. You giggle, seeing Aizawa exit the kitchen from the corner of your eye. “Here’s your daddy. Off to bed, you go.”

Aizawa approaches you with a wink and scoops Eri up into his arms with ease. “C’mon, pumpkin," he coaxes, earning the cutest little mewl in response as Nea jumps down from the chair and proceeds to totter after him. 

Once they are in Eri’s bedroom and the door is closed, you pause the movie and venture off into the kitchen. Your bare feet pad against the floor, your shoes set neatly beside the door. You came straight over here after leaving Nemuri’s dorm, not wanting to waste any time not being here.

The kitchen is spotless and clean all except for the table where a half-empty bottle of wine sits and the sink which is full of dishes and utensils from dinner. You immediately begin working on cleaning them, squeezing some Dawn soap into a sponge and running the hot water. 

You start off on the utensils since they’re the easiest to do and are just about finished with them when you hear Aizawa’s footsteps behind you. “You ain’t have to do that,” he says disapprovingly. “I can handle my own dishes.” You shake your head, placing some squeaky-clean and wet spoons on the drying rack. “It’s no trouble. You were putting Eri to bed anyway.” 

He comes up beside you, taking his own sponge and squirting some soap in it. “How’d she go down?” you ask as he takes a plate streaked in pizza sauce and cheese. Probably Eri’s. You watch him as he cleans the plate, noticing the healed, white scars on his skin and the one vein in the top of his hand. It must be the wine, but you can't help but want them on you. 

“She was already out by the time I put her under the covers,” he chuckles. “She and Nea are snuggled up like they’ve known each other for years.” You smile at this, knowing deep in your heart that Nea was the one. “Thank you again for that,” he softly says, gazing at you as he runs hot water over the plate and then places it in the drying rack next to you. When he reaches his arm across you, his cologne drifts off of him, making your mind hazy.  

“Don’t thank me, Shouta,” you lightly laugh as you grab your own plate. “It was my pleasure to do that for you and Eri. I’m sure Nea will be a great addition to your little family.” You expect Aizawa to agree or say something more, but instead, he is completely silent. You also notice that he pauses in his dish-washing too. 

You lower your plate down into the sink as you glance at him. He is staring down at his hands, an unreadable expression on his face. “Shouta?” you softly ask, confused at his change in mood.

He glances at you with those charcoal eyes, making your stomach flutter. He pushes himself away from the sink and runs a hand down his face, visibly conflicted. “Sorry,” he wryly chuckles. “I just can’t seem to shake the thought of you being here with us. It just feels…right somehow.” 

Your heart leaps at the saccharine words coming from his lips though you can’t believe he is really saying such things. This has to be a dream. It just has to be! You can barely believe it even when he takes your hands into his, holding them gently.

“I don’t wanna freak you out or run you off, but I wanna let you know how I’m feeling,” he confesses. It was so hard not seeing you or having you here for all those weeks. I was so sure what we had was ruined.” The corner of his lips curl into a delighted smile. “But seeing that little fur ball outside my door was all the answer I needed to realize that things could be right between us again.” 

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, making your eyes flutter closed and your ears twitch in delight. “I love having you here,” he whispers. A response is on your tongue before you can even think of one. It’s so natural to you. “And I love being here,” you whisper back. You can’t resist cupping his stubbled cheeks into your hands and planting one on him, his plump, pink lips irresistible to you. 

He groans appreciatively into the kiss as your lips dance with one another, no fight for dominance needed. He places his hands on your hips to bring you close, emitting a content and needy sigh from your lips. You didn’t realize how touch-starved you were until he stormed into Nemuri’s dorm earlier and kissed you so passionately. You’ve missed him, and you promise to show him tonight if he lets you.

He suddenly pulls away, his eyes darker than usual and his lips plumper from the kiss. “Y’know, there’s still some wine left,” he murmurs, nodding at the bottle on the table. 

With a wordless nod and a grin, Aizawa grabs two wine glasses from the drying rack and the bottle before venturing into the living room with you in tow. When he goes to sit on the couch, you don’t follow him.

As you stand in the threshold of the living room, watching Aizawa's giant self settle onto the couch and pour you a glass, you realize that this is the first time you’ve ever spent the night over at Aizawa’s dorm out of your cat form. You never once spent the night here when you first started dating in respect of Eri and his duty as a father. 

It was one thing to spend the night here as their pet, but now? As Aizawa’s girlfriend and rekindling your relationship with him? It fills you with a hint of dread and anxiety that continue to grow as you stand like an idiot near the kitchen as if you’ll jet inside of it any minute now.

But when Aizawa gazes at you from across the room, you know that that isn’t happening anytime soon. He settles back onto the couch, his legs spread deliciously wide and his eyes hooded. “Come here,” he coos, his finger beckoning you over. “Come sit with me.” 

He could’ve asked you to help him hide a body and you would come running, ready to do whatever he asked of you. With your tail embarrassingly straight up behind you, you tentatively walk over and join him on the couch. He gives you your wine glass and you clink them against each other, toasting to whatever before sipping on the fruity liquid. 

You don’t know how long it takes you two to finish the whole bottle, but when you finally do, you’re feeling warm, tingly, and in need of him. He must feel the exact same way because he won’t keep his hands off of you, whether he is gently stroking your knee or brushing your hair behind your ear, chuckling when it twitches at the feeling of his fingers brushing against the fur. With every small touch, heat pools in between your legs and your senses heighten with the smell, taste, sight, and feeling of him. 

You don’t know when you two start kissing, but when it starts, you can’t stop. You’re now on top of him, your knees on either side of him as you straddle his lap. His groin presses against your panty line which is becoming more soaked with every skillful move of his soft lips against yours and his large hands pawing at your ass.

Your arms are wrapped around him tighter than a vice, refusing to let go even for a second. You’re so afraid that if you do this moment will disappear. He will disappear. No matter how solid and warm he feels against you, you need to know he won’t leave. You need so much more of him. 

He groans softly as he pulls away from your lips to take in a breath, his hooded eyes gazing up at you. 

“Bedroom?” he breathlessly asks against your lips. You press against them again, your kiss passionate and hurried like the two of you can’t get enough of one another. You frantically nod at his proposal, shamelessly grinding your hips against his groin. “Please,” you whimper, swooping down to press kisses against his neck and jawline. 

He moans at your lips on his skin, the sound traveling straight to your pussy. “Lemme just fix it up a bit and I’ll call you in,” he huskily whispers. You pause and lean away to look down at him, wondering if he’s serious. Your pussy is practically crying for him and he’s worried about cleaning up a bedroom?

“Don’t be impatient, kitty,” he chortles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “It’ll only be five minutes.” 

You whine like a toddler as he places you off of his lap and on the couch, plopping you down. Though your body is flaring with impatience, you can’t help the adoration you feel for the man for wanting to clean up his bedroom before you dirty it up again. He gets off of the couch and straightens out his shirt before glancing at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“Five minutes,” you firmly say, playfully scowling up at him. “That’s what you said.” 

He smirks down at you, crossing his index finger in front of his middle one. “Promise.” Then he is off to his room and leaving you on his couch, hot, bothered, and in desperate need of water. 

Though the glass of cool water does wonders for your throat, it does nothing to soothe the ache between your legs. You realize how much five minutes can feel like five eternities as you sit on the couch, your fingers rubbing your panty-covered slit and your nose in Aizawa’s pillow, smelling his shampoo and cologne (much to your embarrassment). You become delirious, wanting to break down his closed door and drag him to the bed himself. Doesn’t he know not to make a horny woman wait? You’re just about ready to go feral on his ass. 

“Come on in, baby!” he finally calls through the crack in the door. A humongous sigh of relief leaves your body before you pop up as fast as a Jack-in-the-Box and proceed to sashay over to his bedroom door. You push open the door little by little, only seeing the dim light of the lamp by Aizawa’s bedroom.

“That was six minutes, by the way,” you tsk. “Makin’ a woman like me wait for some dick is just plain evil, Sho. I’m startin’ to think you’re a villain in the making or…” 

Your words die in your throat when you get an eyeful of what waits for you behind Aizawa’s bedroom door. He lounges against his headboard, no article of clothing to be seen except for his briefs which have broken increasingly tighter due to the impressive, hardened bulge you see pushing against the thin, black fabric of his underwear.

His black locks cascade down his muscular shoulders and pecs where ink stretches across his tanned skin. Your eyes trail across each vein of his hands and arms; the pinkness and hardness of his nipples; the hooded, lustful nature of his gaze as he stares at you from across the room. 

You’re so focused on him that you don’t even notice his scarves folded neatly at his bare feet, waiting for use. 

You have to be dreaming. This is just too damn good to be true. You’ve had to have died at some point–maybe when Toyoma hung you off of that building or maybe when you fought Aqua Master and thought you survived–to be standing here staring at a piece of heaven. 

Aizawa raises his arm to place behind his head, causing his bicep to bulge deliciously. “Here, kitty, kitty,” he croons, crooking his finger at you in a 'come hither' motion. You stand there, frozen, unable to move or speak. A knowing smirk curls onto his pink lips at your reaction. “C’mon now, I don’t bite…at least not very hard.” 

Still, you don’t move. Though your pussy is dripping like it’s a faucet, it’s like your brain has shut off and isn’t telling your limbs to move. Aizawa cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Why so shy all of the sudden, kitty?” he chuckles. “You weren't this quiet when you were givin’ my lip just a few seconds ago. Such an impatient girl.”

He tuts disapprovingly as he rises from the headboard, causing his muscles to ripple and flex with every move he makes. “Good things come to those who wait, don’t you know?” 

He lets out of the bed and slowly walks towards you, taking his sweet time while he’s at it. Your mouth opens and closes as if you can’t get enough air in your lungs. Your brain desperately attempts to grasp for a word instead of silence, but all that comes out is a weak stutter of, “I-I…” 

Aizawa lightly laughs at your adorable reaction to his sexiness, stopping in front of you. “Damn, you think I’m that fine?” he snorts. “I’m flattered, baby, but if you’re not gonna talk, I’ll just have to make you, won’t I?”

A dangerous gleam appears in his eye before he closes the gap between your bodies. His lips are on yours again and his hands find your ass, squeezing it. Your hands find his hair, your fingers stroking through the soft locks as your lips move hungrily against his.

Though his kiss is passionate, it’s also starved. Feral. Sloppy. His tongue slips and slides against yours, saliva swirling in one mouth and slipping in another. 

When you pull away to breathe, he pulls you back in with his lips sucking gently on your tongue. You whimper, the act making your pussy gush and cry for more. Much, much more.

Aizawa is ready to give all of that to you. Wordlessly, he pulls away and begins to strip you. He starts by taking off your blouse first, untying the string holding it together at the nape of your neck, and then sliding the straps down your shoulders. He leans in to pepper your shoulder blades and neck in kisses as his fingers stroke your skin, pulling your blouse down your hips. 

Soft moans leave your mouth as you hold him close, your fingers enjoying the ripple of his back muscles. Every touch of his lips leaves a trail of fire in their wake.

He then pulls away and unhooks your bra, groaning deeply at the sight of your breasts spilling out of the cups. He doesn’t touch or taste them though, much to your dismay. Instead, he busies himself getting you out of your bottoms. You kick off your socks as he works to pop the button and unzip the zipper to your shorts before pulling them down your legs. 

You are now left in your pretty, laced, black panties, your body hot and your heart pounding. Aizawa straightens up before you, his charcoal eyes searching your face. “Do you trust me?” he asks, his large hands cupping your face. Liquid lava is flowing through you, threatening to burn a hole in you as you stare into his eyes. All you see is safety.

“Yes, sir,” you softly answer, a smile playing on your lips.  

Aizawa inhales deeply as if he was expecting another reply. “Then kneel on the bed with your arms crossed behind your back,” he orders. “I’m just gonna tie your wrists, but if you want your ankles tied, just let me know.”

You nod, signaling that you understand. He gives your ass an encouraging smack and nods over to the bed. “Go ‘head,” he coaxes you. 

You do as he says, slowly walking over to the bed and climbing onto the cool, navy blue comforter. You know for a fact that you’re going to be staining it up and make a mental note to help Aizawa with dry cleaning later. You kneel on the bed and cross your wrists behind your back, your shoulders relaxed and your body trembling in anticipation. 

Especially when you hear Aizawa’s soft footsteps pad behind you. With every creak of the floorboards beneath him, signaling him getting closer to you, your ears twitch and your heartbeat pumps in your ears: Boom. Boom. Boom. The anticipation is killing you, slowly getting the best of you. 

Finally, Aizawa sits behind you, causing the mattress to dip slightly under his weight. He is silent as he takes his scarves into his hands and proceeds to tie your wrists behind your back.

Though he is gentle and careful, you can’t help but gasp with each tug of the scarf on your arms. His fingers then work expertly to securely tie a finishing knot, successfully interlocking your wrists on top of one another. Once finished, you wiggle your fingers to make sure you can still feel everything and move. 

He sits up behind you, his hand brushing your hair away from your ear. “Comfortable, kitty?” he softly asks. You slowly nod, biting your bottom lip at the delicious scent of his cologne. “Good. Now bend over.” 

Trembling from the authority in his deep, baritone voice, you do as he says and lean down until you’re bent over for him and your ass is in his face. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your cheeks hanging out of your little, lace thong that you’re so glad you wore. He wastes no time pulling them down your legs and off of your ankles before pressing his face into your ass.

And I mean, literally pressing his face into your ass.

He stuffs his entire face between your cheeks and nuzzles them before peppering them in wet kisses, his fingers massaging the globes of fat to your liking. You moan and lightly laugh as he does so, not realizing how much of an ass man he truly is until now. 

He then pulls away and sucks on his index and middle fingers before lightly sliding them along your slit. You whimper at his touch, having no choice but to dig your nails into your palms. If your hands weren't tied, you’d grip the sheets. “Shit, babe,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning your ass. “You’re fuckin’ soaked for me. All of this for me?” 

“Y-Yes,” you whimper in response. “All of it, Master.”

In response to this, he begins to rub your slit a little bit more, applying just the slightest bit of pressure that sends sparks of pleasure into your clit as his fingertips caress it. “Fuck, Shouta,” you moan, your voice bouncing off of the bedroom walls. You arch your back into his touch, pushing your ass out more for him. 

Aizawa chortles from behind you, still rubbing your clit and emitting wet sounds from your sobbing, wet cunt. “Impatient as usual,” he tuts. “That won’t do.”

Before you can even sense it with your quirk senses, his hand is coming down to roughly smack you on the ass. A loud gasp leaves your lips and you quickly bite your lip to avoid getting any louder. You don’t want to wake Eri. 

Smack!

His hand comes down again, causing your ears to raise straight in the air and your tail to curl in ecstasy. “Naughty kitty,” he chuckles darkly. “You’re gettin' off on this shit.”

Smack!

You bite back a moan, only a choked whimper leaving your lips as his calloused hand comes down yet again onto your behind. He groans at the way it jiggles from his hand’s aggressive contact with it and takes a handful of it to jiggle around himself. “Fuck,” he growls. “All of this for me? You’re too generous to me, baby.” 

You softly whine in desperation, your pussy screaming for attention. As if knowing how desperate your body is for attention, he moves in to swipe his tongue along your slit before swirling the muscle around your sensitive little clit.

You gasp, pleasure coursing through you the more he moves his tongue and lips along your pussy, whether he swirls his tongue around your clit or nudges his nose against it as he slowly parts your lips with his tongue, gently fucking you with it. 

You immediately turn your face into the bed, muffling your screams of pleasure. “God, Shouta!” you whine, losing your God-loving mind. It’s even more intense from the fact that you can’t move your hands, the binds you’re restrained with adding to your heightened pleasure. It turns you on to be helpless like this, at the mercy of your boyfriend. 

That’s right…Aizawa is your boyfriend now. The idea of it is so absurd to you, like a dream that doesn’t quite make sense. Though it feels strange to calm him such a thing, especially after months of wondering if he’d ever look your way, it feels damn good.

But you know something that feels even better: his mouth. He knows how to work it, alternating between tongue-fucking you and using his lips to gently suckle on your pussy lips, moaning as he does. 

“You’re so cute like this,” he says between flicks of his tongue, humming as he does so. “I wanna see more of this from you.” His hands then move to your ass, spreading them apart as you moan in response at the feeling. “You ever had your ass eaten before, baby?” he huskily asks. 

Your eyes widen immediately at the question. ‘Da fuck?’ you think. He’s an ass man like that?

“N-No,” you stutter, moving to look at him behind you. His hands are gripping your ass for dear life, spreading them apart, his eyes almost completely black with lust and hunger.

A crooked, devious smirk curls onto his lovely lips. “Well, you’re gonna tonight,” he tells you. “But let me know if it feels weird and I’ll stop, understand?” 

You lick your dry lips, your body trembling in anticipation. “Yes, sir,” you softly reply, earning a kiss on your ass cheek.

Then he’s diving in and licking along your asshole, slightly stretching the tiny, puckered hole with his tongue. Your mouth falls agape at the feeling of being stretched there. You’ve never put anything in your ass for sexual pleasure before; let alone near it. You’re shocked at how good it feels; how it travels straight to your pussy and makes it gush along Aizawa’s fingers that rub against your slit. 

“It feels good!” you moan, grinding your hips shamelessly into his mouth. “Kinda weird, but such a good weird.”

Aizawa chuckles, moving away from your ass with a soft, wet pop! “That’s what I like to hear,” he purrs. “Just relax, kitty. You deserve this. You’ve earned it.” 

With that, he returns to your asshole as he slides one finger into your pussy. You scream into the mattress as the long digit curls up to glide against your G-spot, sliding in and out of your pussy as his tongue flicks along your asshole, coating it in saliva. After several torturous minutes, he finally moves his mouth back down to your clit and gently sucks on it while finger-fucking you. All the while, you are moaning, whining, and gushing around his finger and onto his mattress. 

“I can tell you wanna cum,” he growls against your pussy. “Do it for me, kitty. Come on, you can do it. Don’t let me down.”

His finger moves a bit faster, relentlessly gliding up against your G-spot until you finally can’t hold back anymore. That chord in your body finally snaps and a choked moan of his name passes your lips as you cum all around his mouth and finger. 

“Good girl!” he groans into your cunt, his words muffled. “Good kitty!”

The praise only makes the orgasm more intense as wave after wave of pleasure passes over you. You toss your ass back and whine your hips back into his face, desperate to keep this feeling going for as long as your body will allow you to. You’re seeing stars and having blank thoughts, nothing but Aizawa and the feeling he gives you in your head. It is by far the best orgasm you’ve had. 

After what feels like forever, the feeling begins to fade and you’re filled with exhaustion as your orgasm pulls everything out of you. You plop facedown into the mattress, breathing heavily and twitching slightly as Aizawa gently removes his finger from your tight, cum-soaked pussy.

“That was beautiful to witness,” he sighs, sucking on his finger. He then gently strokes your back and tail, repeating this process as you recover. 

After a while, your breathing finally levels out and you start to purr at the soothing feeling of Aizawa petting you. “Better now?” he chuckles from behind you. You wordlessly nod and pick up your foot to glide against his hardened cock in his briefs. “Want you in my mouth,” you murmur, salivating at the thought of tasting him. 

Though Aizawa likes the feeling from the sighs he lets out, he pushes your tiny foot away from his cock. “Uh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “Not now, at least. As much as I’d love to feel that pretty mouth wrapped around my cock, I’m more interested in this here.”

He gently cups your overly-sensitive cunt, causing you to whimper at the contact. “I haven’t had this in weeks and I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t get it now.” 

‘God, yes!’ you think, wanting the same thing. You don’t care if you just came or that you're still tingly from your orgasm. You want all of him inside of you. You want to make up for lost time. You also want to make this a night you’ll both remember.

“Before you do,” you softly say, “could you do something for me first?” 

Aizawa hums in agreement in response, swooping down you pepper your ass and lower back in kisses. “Could you blindfold me please?” you boldly ask, swallowing back the nervous lump in your throat.

Aizawa’s kisses stop and you can feel his eyes burning a hole into you. “I’d like you to tie my ankles too,” you timidly add. “I just like being dominated by you, I guess.” 

You begin to feel your body flush with embarrassment at your naughty requests. You know you shouldn’t feel embarrassed as Aizawa has never judged you for what you liked ever since you first started being sexual with one another, but it's still a weird experience. However, he is loving it. With his hands on your sides, he sits you back up until you’re staring into his eyes that are gleaming with adoration.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmurs. “I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

And he does. He wastes not a second more––he takes one of his scarves and ties your ankles first before moving onto your eyes. You’re instantly cloaked in darkness, unable to see even the dim light of the lamp. “I can’t see anything,” you tell Aizawa, not that he asked but just wanting him to know.

Aizawa hums in approval. “Let me know if it’s too much,” he says, his deep voice relaxing your body and easing your anxiety.

This is the first time you’ve done something so daring, but it feels right to do it with him. You know for a fact that Aizawa will do anything to keep you safe and ensure that your protection is his utmost priority. You smell his cologne and naturally musky scent as he leans in to kiss you, the softness of his lips and wetness of his tongue making you moan longingly into his mouth. 

He then moves behind you and takes hold of your hips, coaxing you to lean forward until the side of your face is mushed into the pillow. You stay like that with your knees planted firmly on the mattress and your hands tied behind your back.

Arching your back makes it more comfortable, and definitely more appealing for Aizawa’s eyes judging by the feeling of his bulge brushing against your thigh. “You sure you still want this?” he asks, sounding unsure. “You’re free to revoke consent at any moment, kitty, but I just wanna make sure before we do this.” 

You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. “Yes,” you softly reply, the anticipation making you breathless. “I still want this.” You push your ass back into him, emitting a groan from his gorgeous mouth when your ass brushes against his hardened, fabric-covered cock. “Please fuck me, Master,” you mew. “Make up for lost time.” 

Aizawa doesn’t need to be told twice. With a feral growl that comes from deep within his chest and sends shivers down your spine, you hear the sound of fabric shifting as he takes his briefs down. You then feel his hard cock press against your entrance, his shaft gliding across your sensitive clit and every nerve of your pussy that screams with pleasure.

You moan, loudly this time, and Aizawa shushes you. “You’ve gotta keep quiet, kitty,” he huffs. “You’ll wake Eri.” You frantically nod and bite your lip so hard that you swear you’ll draw blood. 

You nearly do when Aizawa finally pushes himself inside of you, stopping to let you get used to the feeling of him stretching your pussy out after weeks of not having him. “Take your time, kitty,” he says, his voice strained from the pleasure. But still, he resists and holds completely still. “There’s no rush.” 

It doesn't take much time for you to get used to the feeling of him again. You feel so full. And so complete. “Okay,” you exhale. “I’m okay.”

He immediately begins to slowly rock his hips into you, causing your body to move with him. Your tits sway underneath you and your ass bounces against his lower stomach with every soul-snatching thrust that has you seeing stars. “You like that?” he asks, gripping your hips a little tighter but not enough to draw bruises. 

You moan longingly in response, desperate for more. Though his slow, merciless thrusts feel good, you know that you need it rougher. Harder. Faster. You need him to put your ass to sleep. Aizawa leans down to grip your chin, forcing you to look straight ahead and his cock to sink deeper into you.

A loud, strangled moan leaves your lips at the feeling of him now bottoming out inside of you. “Tell me what you want,” he growls into your ear. “Tell me what you need.” 

“I-I need…” It is difficult to form words when his dick keeps stroking the gummy, gushy walls of your pussy like this, his balls swinging against your clit. His hand circles your throat, squeezing it just enough for you to feel it.

“Speak up,” he demands. “Tell me what you want, kitty cat.” You whimper desperately, conjuring every ounce of willpower to form a coherent sentence. “I want you to fuck me, Sho!” you sob out. “Please fuck me harder! I need it!” 

Aizawa doesn't speak. He just does. He is a man of action, after all, so when you say you want it harder, you get it. He grips your hips, yanking you back against him, and proceeds to pump your poor little pussy full of his cock. His thrusts are hard, rough, and merciless, his balls slapping your clit and his stomach hitting your ass, emitting slapping sounds that are heard throughout the bedroom. His cock reaches every part of your pussy, gliding against your G-spot and stroking your walls that are quickly tightening at the feeling of him.

“This hard enough for you?” he grunts through gritted teeth. “Is this good enough, kitty?” 

You moan into the mattress in response, screaming with every thrust. You can’t keep quiet. You can’t even speak. Words are nothing, your mind too blank to even comprehend a single sentence. You feel a hand suddenly take a chunk of your hair and grip it, causing your face to lift from the mattress.

You gasp at the sharp sting as Aizawa grips your hair, tugging your head back so he can reach you. “I asked you a question,” he growls into your ear. “Tell me what I wanna hear.” 

“Yes!” you cry out, tears pricking your eyes behind your blindfold. “Yes, it feels so good, Master! Please don’t stop!” Satisfied, he loosens his grip on your hair to lower you back down to the bed but doesn’t let go. He keeps a firm hold on your hair as he continues to beat your pussy black and blue until you’re babbling praise, encouraging him to keep going.

“So good, s-so good,” you groan into the mattress. “Please, please, keep going, p-please, please, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

Aizawa doesn't stop at all. He continues his consistent, merciless thrusts, his hips bumping against your jiggling ass. His moans and grunts mingle with yours and the sloppy, lewd sounds that emit from his cock plunging inside of your cunt again and again. “Listen to that pussy,” he breathlessly snarls. “It's so wet from me…so wet from this shit. Such a naughty fuckin’ kitty.”

He takes one hand off of your hips to grip your shoulder and lifts his leg up as he pounds into you harder, chasing his orgasm. “Look at what you’re doin’ to me. Got me actin’ a fool for you.” 

You suddenly feel something wrap around your neck, tight yet not enough to choke you. One of his scarves creates a makeshift collar around your throat, making the pleasure you're feeling even more intense.

"You've got a pretty lil' collar now," Aizawa growls. "This means you're mine. It's my scarf, so that makes you mine, you understand?"

You whine into the mattress as your own orgasm begins to quickly rise to the surface. You can feel it in your core and the way your clit is starting to swell. “Master,” you warn. “Shouta, I’m gonna cum soon. Gonna…gonna…” 

“Do it,” Aizawa grunts. “Cum all over this dick, baby. I’m right behind you.” He continues to fuck you into his bed, turning your legs to jelly and your pussy to mush. “Gonna cum,” he babbles in a rough, gravely voice that makes your orgasm come a lot faster. “Gonna cum deep in this pussy.” That sends you right over the edge and he isn’t that far behind. 

When your orgasm finally hits you, it hits you hard. It slams into you like a truck, the pleasure so overwhelming that you don’t make any kind of noise until a second later.

“Fuck!” you choke out, your mouth full of cotton from the comforter. You babble and sob nonsense into it, your testament to your overwhelmed ecstasy muffled by the comforter. Aizawa grips your hips for dear life as his body tenses and he cums deep inside of you, a luscious, orgasm-worthy moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he yelps, tossing his head back to the ceiling. Though you can’t see, he looks like Adonis with his chiseled pecs and abs glistening in sweat, his black hair cascading down his broad shoulders and back. 

You gasp, feeling his warm cum pouring deep inside of your soaked pussy. There is so much––it drips down your thighs and coats the comforter below, leaving a stain that neither one of you can care about right now. Exhausted, you lose your arch and slump tiredly onto the bed, your limbs giving out on you.

Together, you and Aizawa breathe heavily as if you share one body, recovering from your shared orgasms. After a few slow strokes, Aizawa slowly pulls out of you and you weakly moan at the loss, your pussy twitching from the constant stimulation.

You feel his hand gently stroke your tail and backside, peppering your skin with soft kisses that have you mewing beneath him. You don’t move, too exhausted to do so, but he doesn’t make you. He knows he fucked the life out of you, but it isn’t without satisfaction or gratitude. You’ve never been more satisfied or happier in your life.

“What a way to make up, huh?” Aizawa breathlessly chuckles. You moan tiredly in response. 

The rest of the night drags on in flashes of consciousness as you fall in and out of sleep. You feel Aizawa untie you from his scarves and take off your blindfold. He holds your face as your eyes adjust and the sight of him as the first thing you see is nothing short of heaven.

He presses soft kisses to your lips and whispers praise, talking about how good you were and how he’s never cum that hard in his life. “You’ll be the death of me,” he murmurs against your sweat-soaked forehead. You don’t have enough energy to tell him the same. 

At some point during aftercare, you feel him get out of bed to head to the bathroom and then return with a warm, wet, sudsy rag to clean his cum off of you. You want to tell him to leave it on, liking the feeling of smelling like him, but the warm water caressing your aching thighs and pussy feels too good to refuse. His fingers knead your ankles and wrists, rubbing out the ache that the binds left behind.

During all of this, you fall in and out of sleep, your body too tired to keep yourself awake for any of this. When he finally finishes easing your body down, he gets up again and returns with a soft blanket that feels like silk on your body. He also turns off the light, plunging you into blissful darkness. 

You feel the bed dip as he lays beside you, his arms wrapping tightly around your smaller form. “Thank you,” he whispers to you. “Goodnight, kitty. Have the sweetest dreams. I’ll definitely have them now that you’re here.” 

His sweet words cause a small smile to curl onto your lips, but you’re too tired to do anything more than that. Instinctively, you nuzzle him, marking him as yours as a cat would, claiming him all for yourself. He chortles, hugging you closer as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

When sleep finally comes again, you snuggle up close to your man and drift off with him, finally complete. 

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

Morning Light (Flash Fiction)

So I uh. Wrote a quick thing. This is inspired by two things: 1) blankets are the coziest thing in the world and Zelink server agrees. 2) @voltfruits wrote an amazing fic (you can find it here, definitely read it!!) and I reread it recently and now I crave a post-calamity Zelink snuggles because of it. Anyways, this is short and sweet, please enjoy :) or read here on ao3!

She had meant for the morning to be a productive one. Earlier in the week, she had sketched out a design for a system to pump hot water for their house- Link’s house really, but she had long since stopped thinking of it as just his. She had been planning to construct a prototype today, getting an early start in case she ran into any setbacks.

She threw those plans out the window within a minute of waking up.

The blankets surrounding her seemed extra cozy that morning, a little bubble of warmth only amplified by the heat from the body beneath her. She must have rolled onto him sometime during the night, and now her world was Link’s arm across her shoulders, another around her waist, legs tangled together, his heartbeat against her ear where it pressed against his chest. Soft sheets and the gentle weight of blankets filled in the gaps between, and she thought she had never experienced a moment so perfect in her life.

She peeked an eye open to see dappled sunlight filtering in through the window. Then she shifted, ever so slowly, to turn her eyes to the man beneath her. He was still asleep- she had guessed that before even opening her eyes, just feeling the rise and fall of his breathing in time with her own. He looks so peaceful, she thought with a smile.

Not that their daily life wasn’t peaceful, but there was always tension in him. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed whenever a noise was just a bit too loud, the way he jolted a little whenever someone moved just a bit too fast. He had been fighting for so long- longer than he could even remember- that it was hard to set it aside, even in their life of relative peace.

She shifted so that her left hand rested over his heart, chin propped up on top of it, then traced her free hand softly across his forehead where there always seemed to be a furrow in his brow. In the gentle morning light, she could see a smattering of light freckles, only visible after their long days spent out in the wild. She carded a hand through his hair, appreciating the softness of the lovely red-gold strands.

He stirred, cracking his eyes open to look up at her.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said with a smile. “Did I wake you up?”

“S’ok,” he mumbled, blinking sleepy blue eyes. “It feels good.” She ran her hand through his hair again, and he sighed, arms squeezing just a bit tighter. Her heart squeezed right along with them.

She remembered the days before the Calamity, mornings on the road just like this, bundled up in blankets and hidden in tents far away from the eyes of the king. She remembered how the first words he ever said to her were spoken in that same bleary voice, the hero of legend reduced to nothing more than a groggy teenager. She remembered waking up in her own bed, alone in her bedroom and thinking of what it was like to hold him to fight off the loneliness that threatened to drown her.

And she remembered a day in the rain when she begged him, would have given anything for him to open his eyes and look at her like this again. And remembered that day 100 years later, when he opened his eyes for the first time in so long with no idea who she was. Who she was to him.

She leaned forward to press her forehead against his, eyes welling up. It had taken so long, and it had taken so much, but they had made it. “We’re finally home,” she whispered.

Link stroked his hand gently across her shoulder blades, smiling as he whispered back, “I’m so glad you’re here.” She met his eyes, and she could see tears welling there to match the ones in her own. “I thought- We almost didn’t-” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment while he found the right words (and there was that furrow in his brow, back again now that sleep wasn’t there to ward it off). “I didn’t think we would get this.”

“This?” she asked, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“Any of this.” He shook his head. “Being here, not… not fighting constantly… this,” he said, tightening his embrace for a moment before relaxing again. “I’m just really happy that you’re here.”

She closed her eyes, absorbing the words like the warm sunshine on her skin. “I’m happy too,” she said, though happy didn’t feel like it could quite capture the feeling. It dwelled deep in her bones and rooted itself in her heart, quiet and glorious and overflowing. There wasn’t really a word good enough for it; or at least, not one she could think of before morning tea.

Zelda pressed a slow, gentle kiss against his lips, trying to convey the feelings that were too large for words. Link seemed to be doing the same, kissing her back slowly and intently. There was no rush, no heated need for more, not like there so often was between them. It was soft but powerful, demanding nothing but undoubtedly saying good morning, I love you, I’m glad you’re here.

They pulled back with sleepy smiles, gazing at each other for a moment in contented silence. Then, Link blinked, eyes darting to the window. “We should probably get moving,” he said, sounding very much like he did not want to get moving. “You had plans for today.”

Zelda hummed and laid her head back down on his chest, snuggling into the blankets and relishing the feeling of his arms around her. “Those can wait,” she said. The plans had been forfeited before he even woke up. “Let’s just… stay here a bit longer.”

She felt the rise and fall of his chest as he sighed contentedly. “As long as you want.”

[hisbucky]

Is it even a surprise?

"It should not be a surprise; more often than not, when it comes to the Diazes, those two are always going to be his two exceptions. Namely, whenever Christopher is involved, he’s reminded once again just how much he loves their little sunshine because of it."

Or

1 time Buck and Eddie enjoy the fruits of Christopher's plans, the 5 surprises it took to get them there, and the 1 time Christopher reminds them of his genius.

[full fic here]

Buck is, usually, not a big fan of surprises nowadays.

Once upon a time, maybe so. After everything he’s been through however, what with the surprise truck bombing, the *surprise* embolism, and the, you guessed it, -surprise- tsunami, his heart really can’t take it anymore.

Bobby and the growing number of grays in his hair would agree with that sentiment. Eddie too, on a lesser degree. Or was it more?

Hmm, bet Eds would totally rock that salt and pepper look though, smirking smugly while he does that—no. Stop. Focus.

Don’t think about how his best friend slash life partner would look like if the older man had that kind of hair to go with that sexy smolder of his…

Oh yeah, Buck definitely bagged a total dilf for himself—

Stop it. Bad Buck. Not the point right now.

…

Anyways, the point he’s trying to make here is that just like any other thing in life, there is an exception to that.

It should not be a surprise; more often than not, when it comes to the Diazes, those two are always going to be his two exceptions. Namely, whenever Christopher is involved, he’s reminded once again just how much he loves their little sunshine because of it.

A little smile graces his face at the thought, to think he can call Christopher as their little sunshine.

Buck still can’t believe that he can actually call Chris as his own kid instead of just Eddie’s, and a part of him is forever grateful for the Diazes for welcoming him into their family and giving him what he had craved to have for a long time. He cannot imagine a life without it.

Because of that, it should be no wonder whenever there is an exception to the surprises in his life, it would always somehow involve at least one of his boys.

From their very arrival, every time there is a new development, he’s more than pleasantly surprised by them.

His partnership with Eddie, meeting Christopher for the first time, the surprising ease at how the three of them shifted from one thing to another and finally into what their little family is now. Every single day, Buck basks in the happiness he feels when he wakes up next to his husband, later waking both Eddie and Chris up for their usual morning routine as Buck cooks them all breakfast.

And really, Buck never would have thought that all those happy little surprises, all of it leading to this lazy happiness he gets to have, is all thanks to the one, good intentioned, meddling kid he loved with all of his heart.

Bet I got your attention now, huh? Christopher’s a good kid, and he’s got the biggest heart, like, ever. What people don’t know is just how smart he is, and how determined he is to see through everything. I think it all started when—

“What’re you doing there, carino?” the sleepy, deep voice of his partner whispers into Buck’s ears, making him shiver just as he feels a familiar, strong arm coming over and wrapping around his middle. With one good tug from the other, Buck finds his back pressed against Eddie’s firm chest, snuggled tight under the veteran’s limb.

Instead of replying right away, Buck takes the moment to sigh contentedly, burrowing himself deeper into the man’s embrace, smiling secretly to himself.

Eddie’s a patient man, but Buck never was, so it is not long before he shyly admits, “Oh, you know. Just doing homework for therapy and stuff, sorry if I woke you up. The good doc wants me to write down the things in my life I love about right now, so I’m writing about you and Chris.”

Because he gets to have that, Dr. Copeland said. Buck does not have to look for reasons to ‘deserve’ having what he has at the moment. What he needs to do is be aware of and accept the love he gets for what it is, and the life he has right now? That’s the love freely given to him.

Behind him, he might have heard Eddie’s breath hitch, before Buck feels the other’s lips press softly against his temple coupled with, “We love having you in our life too, Evan. The best decision I’ve ever made.”

Buck chuckles freely then, reminded of that so-called “decision”. Buck leans back into his partner, bringing up the entry he had been writing in his tablet for Eddie to see, “Actually, that’s the funny thing. Remember how it wasn’t really us that lead to, you know, us?”

“You mean how our diabolically genius son had me dancing in the palm of his hand for a month?” Eddie groans, feeling more awake when the embarrassment mixed with pride fills his face as he recalls the whole ordeal. “Are you actually writing about that?”

It was actually longer than a month, if Buck’s suspicions were correct, but he is not going to burst Eddie’s bubble anytime soon.

Turning his head to see the other better, Buck replies, “Just be glad he’s using that mind of his for good. In any case, yeah, Dr. Copeland—well, she said it’ll be good to write down the development of our relationship, makes it easier for me to accept that a good thing happened if I see the signs that the love was there all along.”

“You do realize that you’re going to basically make us look like a couple of idiots in there, right?” Eddie deadpans, but Buck catches the fond look in his husband’s eyes, so Buck’s not worried.

That’s another thing he has to work on, he thinks. Remembering that people don’t regularly think he is dumb; most of the time, the affection behind the tone is real, and not just his imagination.

But that’s a whole other problem, and Buck knows it will take some time before he unlearns the habits he picked up after 20 plus years of neglect from his environment.

He’s not worried, because Buck knows that Eddie and Christopher have his back on that.

“Well, duh,” Buck says, genuinely amused, “All this thinking made me realize that Christopher’s the only reason we’re together after all, and I’m not ashamed of that one bit. He’s just awesome like that, so I’m gonna gush about him in my next session.”

In fact, it is the easiest thing he has ever done the whole time in therapy. Loving Christopher, talking about the little man and being involved in all the things that is their kid is Buck’s greatest joy—falling in love with Eddie at that point was just inevitable.

“God, I love you,” was all Buck manage to hear, and before he could register what was happening, the tablet he had been holding was gently tossed to the floor and Buck was on his back blinking cluelessly up at his partner.

“Wait, wha—Eddie? Eddie?! Wait—”

And people in the station had the audacity to say Buck was the horndog in the relationship.

—

(In Eddie’s admittedly shallow defense, he has always been weak to the sight of Buck being great with kids. When it comes to Buck not-exactly-peacocking that competence and love for their son—Eddie is not ashamed to admit he gets the need to throw his partner to the nearest flat surface available.)

find the rest here

[justice4canyonmoon]

An Evening Off

Summary: Both Y/n and Harry have a rare night off. Y/n has relaxing plans for how they should spend it.

Notes: Howdy! This is probably the last fic I’m going to post for the next two weeks; I have finals for college next week, and I have a fuck ton of work this week because professors love to give students everything at once 🙃 Anyway, I came up with the very fluffy concept because I crave emotional intimacy, so I hope you like it!!!!

Warnings: cursing ig. otherwise just a lot of fluff and taking a bath together 🥰

WC: 1.9k

Y/n was feeling lonely.

Her boring ass office job didn’t produce too many friends for her. While the people she worked with weren’t the absolute worst, they were just, well, bland. Their lives were cookie-cutter. The closest thing any of them had experienced to a true adventure was a trip to IKEA. Her two best friends, Maria and José, were across the country, since she had moved from one coast to another to live with her boyfriend. Sure, she could FaceTime them, but it just wasn’t the same. And after the call, she knew she’d just be more lonely than before.

Harry wasn’t an option either. He was working, far too hard for her liking. She understood, of course; it was album crunch time. He had to make all of the last minute decisions: finalizing the tracklist, photoshoots, and touch-ups on the chosen tracks in the studio. But she missed him. The only times she saw him anymore was right before bed, when he would stumble into the room sleepily and kiss her forehead before going right to sleep. So yeah, she was a bit lonely. And being alone on her day off wasn’t exactly the plans she wanted to have.

Luckily, the universe decided to answer her pleas. At around 1:00, after she had finished up a late shower, her phone buzzed with a text from her beloved.

H: Hi, baby! The only thing we have left on the agenda today is touching up a couple of the album tracks, so I should be home a bit earlier :D If you’d like, I can pick up some dinner on the way home.

She couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across her face. For the first time in ages, the two of them could finally have some time together! Maybe she could do something nice for him! He had been working so hard lately, he deserved it. And honestly, she did, too. An idea popped into her head, and she threw open the bathroom closet, taking a look through her bath supplies. She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out a citrus bath bomb, knowing that Harry enjoyed the calming scent of orange and lemon. A nice bath would not only help Harry destress, but it would also be the perfect cure to the loneliness that was settling in her heart. She quickly texted Harry a reply as she set the bath bomb aside.

Y/n: Sorry about the wait, babe, was just taking a shower. Forgot to this morning lol

He answered pretty much right away, making her smile.

H: It’s okay, baby! No need for apologies :)

Y/n: Okay! I’m excited to actually get to spend some time with you! I could really go for curry, if you’re up for Indian takeout.

H: Curry sounds good to me! I’ll probably be home between 6 or 7! I have to go now, but I can’t wait to see you :) I love you so much!!!!

Y/n: Can’t wait to see you, either, Har!!! I love you, too 💕💕

“Baby, ‘m home!”

Y/n looked at the clock. It was 7:30, a bit later than what Harry had said through text, but still much earlier than usual. She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the front door, tackling Harry in a hug. He laughed loudly and wound his free arm around her waist, not fully able to hug her back because of the takeout bag in his arms.

“Let me put the food down so I can give y’ a proper hug.”

She let go with a small pout on her face, which Harry promptly kissed off while setting the bag down. He then wrapped her in a tight, two-armed embrace. She melted at the contact, resting her head on his chest and hugging him back just as tightly. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then rested his head on top of hers.

“Miss you, Har,” she said, her speech slightly muffled from talking into his t-shirt.

She could feel him frown against her hair, “I miss y’ too, Y/n. The album should be done by the end of the month, and then ‘m all yours until tour starts.”

“Good. I was gonna break into the studio and steal you back myself if you weren’t done soon.”

He chuckled, “I don’ think Jeff would like that very much.”

“Fuck Jeff! I need you back here,” she scoffed.

“I certainly hope y’ don’ want t’ fuck Jeff.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned cheekily, “But yet y’ still here.”

“Lord only knows why,” Y/n grumbled, though there was a smile on her face.

They pulled away reluctantly, both realizing how hungry they were. The two chowed down on chicken curry and naan while chatting about their day. Y/n spent most of her day off watching The Great British Bake-Off and snuggling with Daiquiri, their black lab. Harry had been putting the finishing touches on three of the album songs (“I can’ wait to play them f’ y’, baby”), and ranted about the traffic coming home (“I would’ve gotten home 45 minutes earlier, but the freeway was ridiculously clogged up!”). It was domestic in a way that Y/n never thought she would have, and she loved every second of it.

When everything from dinner was cleaned up, Y/n figured now was as good a time as any to reveal her plans for the rest of their evening.

“Hey, Har,” she paused, then continued when she heard his hum of acknowledgment, “would you want to take a bath with me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Is this a ploy t’ get me naked?”

“No,” Y/n said bashfully, “I just thought it would be nice to take a bath together. I found a citrus bath bomb at the back of the closet, and I thought it would be relaxing for us.”

Harry’s eyes softened and he smiled gently at her, “That sounds perfect, love. Y’ too sweet.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, hand in hand. Y/n plucked the bath bomb from the closet and laid it in the tub, turning on the warm water. The water became a pastel shade of yellow, reflecting the lemony scent of the bath bomb. As she was checking the temperature, a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, and a kiss was pressed to her cheek. The heat radiating off of his body led her to believe that Harry had already rid himself of his clothes. When she turned around, her suspicions were confirmed.

“You work fast,” she commented, making a humming sound when the temperature was to her satisfaction.

“A bit,” he confirmed, leaning over to turn off the nozzle “just wanna take a bath with y’, love. Speaking of, let’s get those pesky clothes off of y’, shall we?”

Y/n nodded and Harry reached forward, almost reverently lifting her (his) sweatshirt over her head. She shimmied out of her leggings and removed her undergarments. She stepped into the bath first, gesturing for him to follow. He obeyed, and sat between her legs, resting his head on her shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while, basking in each other’s company. Y/n couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this at peace. But she also knew that Harry had forgotten to shower that morning since he was nearly late to the studio, so she reached over and grabbed some soap and a washcloth. She looked down at him and giggled softly when she realized he was almost asleep

“Wake up, baby,” she crooned, “let me wash you.”

“‘M awake,” he muttered, “promise.”

“Sure you are, that’s why your eyes are closed,” Y/n teased.

He only hummed in response, making her giggle again. She kissed his forehead and began washing him gently. The soft circles she was rubbing into his skin with the washcloth were soothing, and a sleepy smile made its way onto his face.

“‘Y always take such good care of me. Dunno how I got s’ lucky.”

Y/n felt her face grow warm as she reached for the shampoo, “I think I’m the lucky one. You always take care of me, too.”

She began rubbing the shampoo into his silky locks. Breathy gasps fell from his lips as she tugged lightly as his hair, working the shampoo into his curls.

“Feels s’ good,” he murmured.

“Glad you’re feeling good, Har,” Y/n replied in a hushed tone.

She rinsed his hair and repeated the process with the conditioner. By the time she had finished, Harry had fully fallen asleep on her shoulder. She cooed softly at how adorable he looked. He was like an angel; his long lashes were speckled with little water drops, his wet hair stuck to his forehead in an oddly endearing way, and a small smile was spread across his lips. He looked so relaxed in a way that Y/n hadn’t seen in a while. The bath helped her feel more at ease too; the monotonous motions of washing Harry made the stress from her job melt away, and the loneliness that had plagued her earlier in the day was washed away by the warm water. But she knew she had to wake Harry. She wasn’t quite strong enough to carry all six feet of him back to their bedroom.

Y/n gently jostled his shoulder and whispered, “Harry. Need you to wake up, baby.”

He groaned softly, making her giggle softly once more. His eyes slowly blinked open to reveal his jade irises, and he stumbled his way out of the tub, making her laugh a little harder as she followed. Y/n got out two towels and dried them both off, knowing that Harry was much too tired to do it on his own. She took his hand and walked toward their bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Y/n guided Harry to sit on the bed while she picked out sweats for both of them to wear to sleep (she knew that Harry had a particular fondness for when she wore his clothes to bed, so she got out his clothes for both of them). Harry pliantly moved his limbs as she clothed him, and watched her with moony eyes as she pulled on her own sleepwear.

“Look s’ pretty in m’ clothes, love,” he complimented, relishing in the shy smile that appeared on her face.

“Thank you, Har. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” she replied.

Y/n turned off the light and joined Harry on the bed. He was already lying on his side, so she wound her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Usually, he was the big spoon, but with the whole mood they had set all night, it just felt right for her to be the one cuddling him. Y/n barely heard Harry mumble a “g’night. Love you,” before his breathing evened out. She smiled and closed her eyes, reflecting on the day. Just spending one evening with her boyfriend made her feel right as rain, and the loneliness that had once threatened to overtake her was totally gone. Though she had been taking care of him that night, he was also taking care of her. And sure, they were both going back to work tomorrow, but in two weeks, Harry would be done with the album and would be all hers. When sleep finally overtook her, all she had were the most pleasant of dreams.

[chickynn]

@sunaswife asked: Okay hi bub it’s nice to meet u. I’m a new follower thanks to my child, Mia hehehe n E wayz can I request Inosuke and fem s/o on a mission together and rescuing a child who’s parents died from demons. They don’t have any other family so they decided to adopt the child as their own? Idk if that makes sense but I’m just a sucker for fluff 🥺🤲

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

YAYYAYAYA HELLO 400TH FOLLWER HEHEH

thank you so much for the request, this was so cute omg 👉👈

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, so i decided to finish it tonight hehe. I also did a different style of writing fics so that it's easier, and I really like this style (and i hope you do too) so i'm going to continue writing in this style 👀👀

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

- Inosuke and the reader are both aged up so that it would be a little more appropriate for this scenario hehe

Inosuke and his s/o adopting a child

You and Inosuke were walking your way towards your mission (playfully bickering too). You two had been going at it ever since you started your journey. It’s just your way of bonding with each other, really. There was no harm done in doing so too.

Anyways, as you approached your destination, you started hearing a faint cry coming from a house. Without wasting any more time, you immediately ran towards the source of the voice. of course, Inosuke sees it as a challenge, then tries outrunning you.

The house you entered was already in a horrible state; blood splattered all throughout the walls and floors. In the middle of the house, there stood a hungry demon despite already having to eat two people already. Below the demon was a frail child, who was the one crying loudly, begging for help.

You were about to step in until Inosuke started launching himself towards the demon. You decided to let him distract it, the child being your main priority first. You saved the child successfully, thankfully they’ve only got a few scratches here and there, though you were happy that they weren’t hurt, you wished that you could’ve been there a second earlier to save their parents as well.

You safely laid the child somewhere where they couldn’t get hurt. Apparently, they also looked so shaken, probably traumatized to have witnessed their parents getting murdered in front of them, which was no surprise. You’ve decided to comfort the child for a bit and was about to go help Inosuke until the child pulled you back and begged for you not to leave. 

Inosuke handled the fight pretty well on his own, not that he needed you there anyways (according to him). He came out of the house a few minutes later after you saved the child, boasting about how great he was, and how you should’ve seen him fight until he saw you snuggling the child close to your chest to sleep.

Now, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t jealous about the fact that the child is getting all of your attention instead of him. He refused to admit it though, so he just huffs and then starts complaining about him doing all the work and not getting the attention he craved for.

The way back home was surprisingly peaceful and quiet, which was a surprise. Well, it was mainly quiet because you had told Inosuke not to make a noise when the child is sleeping in your arms. Which leaves him complaining behind you right under his breath.

“Hey Inosuke,” You started, turning your head towards him slightly, “we should take care of the child...”

Inosuke groaned, “Why should we? The mission’s done, he’s not our problem now”

You glared at him, stopping in your tracks to fully face him. He stopped as well starting to regret the fact that he’s provoking you, “because, this child has no parents, we’re their only hope left!”

That’s not entirely true though. You knew that you can just find another pair of parents to adopt the child, but for some reason, you felt like keeping them. You couldn’t really put a finger on it, but you somehow felt some kind of connection with the child. It may also be an interesting experience for the both of you (if Inosuke agrees to take care of the child too).

“If I’m going to take care of that thing...” Inosuke trails off for a bit. Then his eyes lit up, “I wanna train it!”

Sweat dripped down from your forehead, “Sure...”

You’re going to save this conversation for another time.

You safely returned back to the butterfly estate, freshening up before changing into a comfortable sleepwear. Again, Inosuke wouldn’t admit it, but he doesn’t like how your attention has been on the child instead of him. It has been like that ever since you were walking home from the mission.

You laid on the bed, the child sleeping right beside you as you gently stroked their hair soothingly. Inosuke comes in and pouts when he sees the child laying next to you. He huffs and decides to lay on your other side where your back is facing.

Yeah, he was really pouty the entire night.

A few more months later, the child grew accustomed to the both of you. Inosuke still has a little bit of grudge with the child, but he still manages to get along with it surprisingly. There were just times where the child cries loudly and he sees it as a challenge so he starts wailing louder than them. Which always results into a loud crying match, and you always have to calm them down.

You were concerned about the relationship they had with each other sometimes, but atleast they're getting along. Sometimes.

" 'nosuke?" You called out softly in the dark, peering into the room you two shared. Your eyes widen at the unexpected scene displayed upon you, but you immediately felt warmth in your chest.

Inosuke was passed out on the bed, legs and arms sprawled out as the blanket nearly falls off at the edge of the bed. The child was next to him, cuddled up on his side, also passed out and sleeping peacefully.

You nearly squealed at the sight, but you decided to save that for tomorrow. Instead, your smile only grew and you wasted no time in snuggling up on his chest, feeling his stir for a bit, before placing his hand on your hair. You cheekily pressed a kiss on his jaw before yawning as you felt sleepiness slowly take over you.

Before you know it, you fell asleep, on the same bed with the people you love.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Min Skat (Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is for @maggiescarborough‘s and @gearhead66‘s birthdays 🎉 The truth is, I wanted to write two different fics but I had problems... As you may know, girls, I was on vacation. And the laptop I took with me was broken... So... I couldn’t write. I got home only 36 hours ago. That’s why I finally decided to write a single story, to share, for both of you. Hope you won’t mind. And since I know you both love fluff, then... fluff it is! 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVELY WOMEN 💖 🌷 💖

As usual, thanks to my lifesaver, @inforapound, for beta reading it so quickly 🌻

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Min elskede: my love - Min skat: my treasure

the gif belongs to @ohbelllaciao

Summary: You’re pregnant, childish, cranky, hungry, moody and it’s the middle of the night. How’s Ivar going to react?

Warnings: soft, soft, soft Ivar and a lot of fluff.

Words: 2308

Hands on your lower back in a futile attempt to ease the shooting pain coursing through your spine, you slowly cross the room. The faint moonlight allows you to see that Ivar hasn't moved. Covered by many furs, lying on his side, his eyes are closed, his steady breathing just loud enough to hear. 

 You honestly resent him for sleeping peacefully when you haven't been able to for weeks. There are so many reasons for your sleepless nights: the constant need to empty your bladder, the feeling of choking as soon as you lie down, the midnight cravings, your inability to find a comfortable position in your shared bed, or the frantic kicks from the tiny human growing inside you as soon as you try to rest… You're exhausted. And mildly jealous.

Getting closer, you sink heavily onto the bed, releasing a deep sigh. Ivar immediately moves and groans, annoying you. He should know better and not dare to complain. "Ivar, don't expect me to apologize! I am warning you!" You hiss through clenched teeth, furrowing your brows. "Carry a baby for nine fucking moons and then, maybe, you'll be allowed to say something!"

 Sitting up, he grabs a candle and lights it before shifting next to you. 

 Looking at him, you see his big, sleepy blue eyes staring at you, bewilderment written all over his face. "Min elskede, are you all right? Is there anything I can do?" There's no annoyance or impatience in his voice, and his gentleness stirs you up. You love him so much… Forgotten, your previous anger is replaced by an emotional roller-coaster bringing tears to your eyes. 

 Since you don't answer, he gets closer to you, squeezing both your hands in one of his. "Y/N, min elskede, why did you get up? Tell me please."

Using his free hand, he gently fixes a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

 "I don't know…" Shrugging your shoulders, you try to explain. "I had… I was too hot. And then I had to… pee…" You blush. "And now I wish I'd grab something to eat. I'm hungry. And I'm cold." Snuggling into his arms, you can't help but pout. 

 Smiling at you, he kisses softly the tip of your nose before speaking firmly, grabbing and patting a fluffy pillow. "I'll take care of everything. Lie down, min elskede." You're too exhausted to fight back and just do as you're told. Rewarded by a soft kiss on your forehead, Ivar folds several furs onto you and you give him a little smile.

 You watch him as he throws himself onto the floor and starts crawling. The glorious sight of his nacked, chiseled chest is mesmerizing and painfully appealing. If you weren't so pregnant, you'd probably jump on him for a long and passionate lovemaking session. But here you are, huge and so weary that the simple thought of moving again exhausts you. Frustrated, you close your eyes, sighing heavily. 

 "I'll be right back, min elskede." Stopping at the doorway, Ivar gives you a last comforting smile and then disappears. You do know he'll come back with everything you could wish for, and undoubtedly more. 

 From the very beginning, Ivar has always been different around you. Nicer to you than to other people. Less prone to anger. You know it's because of the way you acted when you first met him. That night, for the first time in his life, he had been treated first as a human being, and not as a cripple. 

   He'd traveled all the way to Vestfold to ask your uncle, King Harald, for his support in his war against Lagertha. You, the illegitimate daughter of Halfdan the Black, the king's brother, lived most of the time further north with your mother, who had only been a one-night stand to your father. But once or twice a year, Harald invited you to Vestfold, usually for his own benefit.

 That time, the king had asked you – urged you – to seduce Ivar the Boneless, in order to strengthen their alliance. You didn't like being treated like a courtesan and had locked yourself in your room. It had taken all your father's forcefulness to convince you to come out. When you had eventually entered the hall, the feast in honor of the youngest Ragnarsson was in full swing. Dressed in a beautiful burgundy red dress offered to you by King Harald, you had caught everyone's attention but only had eyes for your uncle's special guest. Immediately captivated by his perfect facial features, you had felt as if you were drowning in his unimaginably blue eyes as soon you had looked into them, your heart skipping a beat. 

 Sitting next to your uncle, the chair to his left was free, reserved for you according to your father's words. Taking your seat nervously, you had wondered if he could hear the frantic heartbeat in your chest.  

 From that moment on, it was just the two of you. You weren't even sure the world kept spinning. For hours, Ivar and you had been talking, smiling at each other, his hand grabbing yours under the table, your fingers stroking his knuckles. 

You soon had realized that Ivar's reputation – a selfish, bloodthirsty and ruthless prince – only reflected part of the man he was: outstandingly intelligent, curious about everything, funny, smart and clever. He had asked you a lot of questions, wanted to know everything about you. You had told him about your village, about your mother's people, the Sami, and their peculiar customs. He had listened carefully, often asking you to clarify some details. He had been more reluctant to talk about his life, claiming that yours was much more exciting than his own, made of wars and blood. 

 When your completely drunk uncle had ended the feast, Ivar had put his hand on your forearm, tentatively offering to see you again the next day. Much to his surprise, you had agreed right away, a wide smile lighting up your face. And then a frown had crossed his face as he had lowered his head. "Y/N, I… There's something you need to know… "The panic was written all over his face. "I'm… not like everyone else." Swallowing, he had kept his head down.

 Of course he wasn't. He was different. He had won your heart in a matter of hours. What was the problem? Then, realization had hit you. Of course. Speaking softly, you had grabbed his hand. "I know absolutely everything I need to know about you, Ivar."

 Releasing a shaky breath, Ivar had shook his head. "No, you don't. You wouldn't have agreed to meet me again if you did. You wouldn't have agreed if you knew that I'm a cr—" Shushing him, one finger on his lips, one hand on his chin, you had forced him to look at you. "Ivar, I know your legs don't work. I knew all along. I knew when I sat next to you." He was bewildered and speechless. Shrugging, you had explained. "I don't care if you can't walk, Ivar, it doesn't matter. What matters though, it's what's there,” your hand had briefly grazed his chest, you had pointed at his heart, "and there,”  your index finger had  brushed his forehead as you had smiled once again. "So yes, I definitely want to meet you tomorrow." And then, your lips had audaciously found his, leaving him astounded.  

 You were already utterly in love. And so was he. That night, you spoke with your heart and Ivar believed you. And more importantly, from that night on, he trusted you, allowing himself to be soft and caring when it was just the two of you.  

  Abandoned to your memories, you sigh lovingly. Gods, this man is your everything and you love being the one with whom he's his true self. You know him like no one else does. And you see him for who he is. Not a king, not a cripple. Just a man; your man. Often stubborn, sometimes hot-tempered but always and unwaveringly loving. 

 Since you are with child, Ivar takes even greater care of you, his unexpected yet unfailing patience both surprizing and delighting you. Whether you're screaming, crying or sulking, he's always there, smiling, cheering you up, whatever the time of day or night. And no matter what you ask, he's always trying to meet all your needs, making a point of doing everything on his own. 

 Every night, since your first cravings many months ago, he brings you something to eat.

 Every day, he massages your tense shoulders and your aching back, and then rubs your swollen legs. 

 At all times, he wordlessly endures your mood swings and tantrums. 

 Every morning, he helps you get dressed before braiding your hair while whispering words of love for only you to hear. 

 And every day, you feel guilty.

 Since you're pregnant, you're not yourself. Most of the time you can't help it, but sometimes you realize what you're doing and blame yourself for treating your husband so poorly. 

 "Min elskede!" His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

 Pushing a heavy wooden tray in front of him, Ivar carefully crawls his way back.  From where you are, you can see on the tray two bowls and one plate, all full of delicacies. 

 When he's close enough, Ivar hands you the tray before pulling himself up on the bed, taking a seat right next to you. Helping you sit up, he places a large cushion behind your back, his knuckles grazing your cheek while his lips briefly find yours. 

 Looking down, you stare in wonder at what Ivar brought you. Once again, he thought of everything: various dried meats, goat cheese, those blueberries you love so much and those pickled herrings you usually hate but are mad about since you are with child. 

 Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you let out an embarrassed laugh. "Ivar, I don't deserve this…" Blinking a few times, you grab his hand. "I don't deserve you."

 He shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "Min elskede, you made me a man, then a husband." He tenderly puts his free hand on your huge belly. "And soon, I'll become a father. It's more than I could have hoped for. Of course you deserve this. You deserve even more than this." Before you can say anything, Ivar pops a blueberry in your mouth. 

 Patiently waiting for you to finish eating, Ivar keeps a soothing hand over your shoulders, absentmindedly massaging them while pecking you on the cheek. As soon as you finish, he puts the tray on the nightstand, nodding appreciatively as he sees the cleared plates. 

 "Min elskede, it's far from dawn, you should try to get back to sleep." You nod getting lost in a yawn and lay down, rolling on your side with effort. Ivar lays down as well, facing you, his right hand brushing your belly.  

 "I love you, Ivar, I love you so much. You're a wonderful husband and you're going to be an amazing father." Sighing, you close your eyes for an instant. "You'll be a much better father than yours or mine ever was." Your voice is shaky and you can see uncertainty on Ivar's face.

 "I'll try, Y/N, I'll try really hard. I can promise that I'll do my best." His breath hitches as he grabs your hand, squeezing it. "But tell me… Tell me again…" He stops, eyes clearly watering. Swallowing, he winces before taking a deep breath. "Tell me… What are we going to do if the baby is… like me?"

 That's his greatest fear. You know your husband is terrified. The thought of him passing his condition – his curse, as he says – on to your kid gives him nightmares. Since you have been with child, he's done everything he can not to bother you with it. Yet, the closer it gets, the less he manages to hide his worries.

 A hand on his cheek, you give him a reassuring smile. "If the baby is like you, my king, we'll love them just as much. We'll be there for them at every step, and you can teach them everything you had to find out on your own. If the baby is like you, it will be their strength and we'll help them to make the most of it. And I promise you, Ivar, growing up, this child will have everything you didn’t." Eyes bathed in tears, Ivar sniffles as you grasp his hand, firmly putting it back on your belly. "However, because of those vigorous kicks…,” Ivar almost jumps, wide-eyed, as he feels something hitting his hand and you stifle a laugh, "… I strongly believe their legs will be perfectly healthy."

 Closing his eyes, Ivar enjoys feeling the blows against his palm, but frowns as you hiss in pain, one of them reaching your ribcage. 

 Sitting upright and adjusting his legs, he takes the fur off, tossing it to the side before pushing your nightgown up. He gently presses his hand on your belly, his fingers freely running over your skin, before lowering his head. "Min skat, I know you can't wait to see the world, and the truth is, I can't wait to meet you. But for now, please, let your beautiful mother sleep." Whether it's Ivar's voice, or his touch, it works and you can feel your baby calm down. Ivar inhales deeply. "My father once told me that happiness was nothing. He couldn't be more wrong. Your mother made me a happy man, which I thought was impossible. She and I, together, will teach you love and happiness…"

 As you struggle to hold back your tears, Ivar peppers light kisses all over your belly. "Go to sleep, baby…" He whispers… "Sleep, min skat."

 🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @readsalot73 @maggiescarborough @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @milkkygirls @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @shannygoatgruff​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @didiintheblog​ @zuxiezendler​

[unfortunate-brat]

Dean Winchester

Break my heart! Rip it into shreds. I'm sad and I'm craving angst so much

THE MECHANIC

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Latina!Reader , ?? x Latina!Reader

Word Count: 551

Summary: Even old memories can still make a person break down into tears or feel the ache in their hearts.

Warnings: Heavy Angst, Heartbreak

A/N: I left the reasoning to the reader to decide, you’ll see what I mean

Y/N recalls the day she met Dean the mechanic, the way he made sure to explain what her car needed in simple terms, making jokes to ease her mind. It’s bad enough her bumper got fucked up by another driver, too dumb and selfish to realize how the road works.

Sure, in the court battle, that driver was paying for her damages but even then Y/N didn’t want to make him overpay. She was going out of her way to make sure the price was within reason. And all those days she spent watching Dean work on her car made her appreciate the craft even more. 

The mechanic was even going out of his way to show her how to spot certain things and how to fix little issues that might come up. A bad move because he could lose a customer but money never really bothered the individual, what he did take note of was how Y/N was willing to listen to every word. Asking questions when needed, getting dirty to prove to him she can do it, and forming that warm smile he likes to believe was reserved for him.

She enjoyed the passion in his voice for every so called lesson, how his green eyes lit up at the opportunity to teach her something new. For a moment Y/N had wondered if he had anyone to talk cars to, but every time she came over, Dean was alone in the shop. So its possible his friends didn’t really stop by, and months later she learned they had been leading busier lives.

Thanksgiving-or Friendsgiving as Benny had called it-they all had the time to get caught up on each other’s life. Dean invited her as a friend, but with all the stolen moments, sparks flying at the touch of their fingers, Y/N kissing him on her doorstep, they took on a new role together.

She casts a sad smile at the memory, sniffling a bit before turning in the bed, snuggling into the warm body next to her. A strong arm pulling her close and leaving a kiss atop her head. “ Again?” His sleepy voice bleeding into the silence. 

“Y-yeah, it’s been a year since...” She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence as the male sighs. Cupping both her cheeks and wiping her tears away with his thumbs. 

“ I know honey, just focus on your breathing right now. Inhale and exhale, come on. I’ll do it with you.” Using his words as guidance, she breaths in deeply before pushing it all back out, repeating that process for 5 more times. Her breathing a little more steady now. “ All better? Or do you wanna be distracted?”

She shook her head, pressing her temple to his. “ Promise you won’t leave me.”

He knew what Y/N would be dealing with when they got together and although she’s made so much progress since, all it takes is one memory or something from her past to threaten that foundation of strength. “ I, Andrew Barber, promise that I will not leave you. Not for another woman, not over an argument, not for a stupid reason and certainly not because I’m overly jealous or controlling.”

She punches his gut playfully before taking another deep exhale. “ Thank you Andy.”

Kissing her nose, he smiles a bit. “ No problem, honey. Now let’s get some sleep, I won’t have that douche making you more upset tonight.

HOW CAN I CONTRIBUTE TO THESE WORKS?

Providing feedback is the best way to support this series and the writer, as content creators we are struggling to get our work out there and produce what we love for our own enjoyment and for others. By commenting, you help us pump out fics such as these and continue writing. So please, leave comments with your reblogs. Don’t just like and forget about the fic.

[amazingmsme]

Tender Darkness and a Secret Touch

AN: This is the softest thing I’ve ever written, Geralt loves Jaskier so much. He’s so in love okay he just wants to touch Jaskier and make him happy and be sweet with him. This was longer than I thought it was gonna be, little over 4k, please enjoy this incredibly tender and loving fic.

It started out as an accident. No really. They had pushed their bedrolls together like they always do once it gets cold. At some point in the middle of the night, Geralt woke up to adjust himself, flushing internally as he realized he had been hugging the bard in his sleep. He shifted away, fingers brushing over his side. That's when he heard it: a quick, quiet giggle.

Geralt furrowed his brows at the sound. What on earth had made him laugh in his sleep? It could've been a dream, but it had been all too sudden... He had a theory, and it wasn't too far fetched. He reached out to test it, drumming his fingers over his ribs. The giggle returned, paired with light squirming. In his sleep, Jaskier spoke.

"Hehehey... that tihickles..." Geralt smirked to himself but backed off. They had been traveling all day and Jaskier made sure it be known how exhausted he was. It would be far too cruel to wake him in the middle of the night with such an attack.

He decided he would wait until the right time to exploit this weakness of his. Sometime when he was being just a bit too annoying or was complaining too much. He didn't plan on letting this information go to waste. Only what he didn't expect was how hard it would be for Geralt himself to initiate such a playful interaction. Gods, just the thought of seeing Jaskier flushed and laughing under him sent a wave of heat through his body. He himself was not a playful, teasing man, how would he even go about it? Dig his fingers into his side and watch him with his usual stoic expression? That just felt wrong. But if he let himself smile he knows he'd never stop, and he really didn't need to hear Jaskier's own relentless teasing and compliments about how nice his smile was.

"What's got you all smiley today?"

The question yanked Geralt from his thoughts so fast, he nearly choked on his spit. "What?" Jaskier looks up at him with a smirk.

"That nearly permanent frown of yours was turned up at the corner, an' honestly that's the closest thing to a smile I've seen from you in months," he teased. Geralt rolled his eyes. "So spill."

"Nothing, just imagined you tripping into a stream and ruining that outfit," he easily lied, knowing how worked up he'd get over that. It was one of his favorites after all. A loud gasp ripped itself from his throat.

"You take that back right now! How dare you cast such bad juju on me!" he scolded. What he didn't expect was for Jaskier to reach up and squeeze his knee. His body went stiff and he barely managed to suppress the surprised squeak that wanted to escape.

He could test it now. Could stop Roach right there in the middle of the empty road and pounce. But someone could walk up and see them. He'd rather die than have that happen. He could invite him to take a break and ride Roach in front of him, but that would be far too suspicious. Jaskier would know he was plotting something. Or he could let it slide.

Coward.

As they set up camp, Geralt made sure to push their bedrolls together. He sat close to him all evening, debating whether or not to man up and just do it already. But then it grew late and they were settling in for sleep. He waited until far after Jaskier's breath had evened out. He gently began tracing shapes over Jaskier's stomach, even slipping underneath his shirt once he got bolder.

Jaskier's shoulders bounced with soft giggles. He wiggled slightly, pressing back against Geralt to escape from his hand. That certainly sent blood rushing lower than it should've. He controlled himself and pulled away, dreaming of bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile.

~~~~

Once they reunited in the spring, Geralt made a point to frequent more inns. Jaskier might think it was weird if they continued to push their bedrolls together every night, but if they so happened to be shacked up in a room with only one bed, well they didn't really have a choice now did they? Except for when Jaskier went to order them a nice meal or set up for a performance, Geralt would ask for a room with a single rather than a double. After the first few times, Jaskier made note of it with an almost sly smile. He hoped he didn't catch on. (Or if he did, that he didn't mind.)

Geralt continued to let his hands roam over the sleeping bard's body, listening to the sounds of his sweet chuckles. He found that if he hit a particularly sensitive spot, a snort would mix in with his soft snores. Each noise he'd make was the most beautiful sound to ever grace Geralt's ears.

He settled in first, Jaskier following suit and pressing right up against his body. "Mmm you're warm," he hummed. It was a myth that witcher's couldn't blush, and that comment sent color straight to his cheeks. He was glad Jaskier's eyes were closed. Melitele knows his teasing would only make it worse. Geralt woke up after some time. Jaskier still slept peacefully. Geralt pressed closer, inhaling his sweet scent. He couldn't help but feel guilty doing this. Jaskier was asleep, he didn't know what was going on. He was abusing this information without his knowledge. But he wasn't guilty enough to stop.

Meanwhile, all this time, Jaskier had spent weeks, months even, wondering why he was in such a desperate, needy mood. He craved a certain kind of touch, and it had been years since he'd actually had it. Of all his wants and desires, tickling was the one thing that was impossible for him to admit he craved. He just wanted to feel happy and out of control again. To trust someone enough to let them completely unwind him. And then the dreams started.

Sometimes it would be the loving touch of his mother, cheering him up after a bad day, or a playful fight with an old friend. But mostly he would dream of Geralt. Quite silly, he knew. He would never engage in something so childish, especially if he thought there was any chance at retaliation. Oh well, the dreams would just have to suffice. He began looking forward to going to sleep because it meant he could have Geralt looming over him, hands roaming his body and making him come undone. Sadly, that's all it would ever be. A dream.

Geralt began tapping his sides. He heard the first gentle puff of air and saw the twitch of his lips. This only encouraged him. He moved his hands over his stomach and ribs, blunt nails lightly scratching the skin. His sleepy snickers grew to soft laughter in his slumber. He could feel Jaskier's belly shake under his fingers, and that made him crave a more wild laugh. But he didn't dare give up what he had now.

A finger circled over the quivering tummy, subconsciously closing in on his bellybutton. When it dipped inside, he felt his body jerk as he barked out a quick laugh and a snort, jerking himself awake.

Geralt froze.

The tickling in his dream became too much and he jolted awake, eyes flying open with a laugh. He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, afraid he might wake Geralt. He'd kill himself if the witcher knew he'd been dreaming about... that. That was strange, even though he was awake he could still feel the tingling after effects on his skin. He looked down, seeing his arms wrapped around him. And how convenient for his hands to be placed where they were...

Geralt decided his best course of action was to play it off like he was twitching in his sleep. His fingers pressed into the soft skin, wiggling and twitching slightly. Jaskier sucked his stomach in with a bubbly laugh, louder than when he's sleeping.

"G-Geheralt?" he asked into the darkness to see if he was awake. When he didn't answer, he tried again, having to suppress a snort. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? The, perhaps unrequited, love of his life was snuggled next to him tickling him in his sleep. He gives a giggly sigh. "M-muhuhust be dreheaming," he whispered to himself. "Luhucky mehehe."

Jaskier's words filled Geralt with immense joy. His tired voice laced with snickers was like a drug, and he couldn't get enough of it. He allowed an eye to peak open a crack, just to watch the way his features scrunched adorably and his body squirmed. Did he mean "lucky me" in the sarcastic sense, or... was he actually enjoying this? Melitele's tits please let it be the latter. And then he felt his hand being moved. He let out a sad sigh that he masked as a soft snore but then he noticed his hand wasn't being moved away... In fact, it was being switched to a different spot.

Jaskier shrugged. "Since I'm already awake..." He slowly trailed Geralt's hand up his side, freezing when he snored a little louder before continuing. He stopped once he reached his underarm. Jaskier felt incredibly giddy and nervous, like he was doing something bad and was about to get caught. The thrill made it all the more exciting. "You don't mind if I borrow this do you?" he quietly asked Geralt's "sleeping" form. The witcher couldn't believe what was happening... Jaskier did like this, basically confirmed it. It was so incredibly hard not to pounce now. He let his fingers twitch and drum against his hollow.

Jaskier tucked his arms behind his head, biting his lip to contain the squeal that begged to escape. His body wiggled slightly and he struggled to remain still. He had to clamp his other hand over his mouth as Geralt's fingers picked up speed, and Jaskier just knew the bastard had to be aware of what he was doing... The thought made him redder than a tomato.

His nails scratched the center of his armpit and Jaskier's arm came crashing down with a loud squeal. He immediately clamped his hands over his mouth. If he pretended to continue sleeping, it would look too suspicious. He sat up on his elbow. "Jaskier? You okay?" Even in the dark, he could see the bard's deep blush.

Jaskier nodded all too quickly. "Mhm! Just, um, bad dream is all," he lied, hoping it was convincing. Geralt looked him up and down with what seemed to be concern. Even in the dark, he could see the witcher's mischievous smirk.

Geralt licked his lips, staring in his eyes. He could hear the man's heart pounding in his chest. "Well... I'm here if you need me," he says. Jaskier's eyes sparkle with such admiration that it makes Geralt want to toss everything to the wind and kiss him right now. But... there was a chance he didn't feel the same way and he couldn't risk losing him for good. Jaskier nods and settles back under the covers, pressing his body closer than before.

~~~~

Jaskier has a theory. He knows what Geralt's like when he's sleeping; he's watched him rest many times to know he's almost always still when he's resting. (It's not creepy he swears! They've been traveling together for years now, he's bound to see the man sleep.) And his hand movements were too calculated, too precise for him to be asleep. He was sure of it. That's why he insisted they stay another night at the inn, to test his theory. That, and to sleep in an actual bed for once. They had started to do it more often, thank the heavens.

He made sure to drink a cup of coffee at dinner to help him stay awake. After a rousing performance, he played up his exhaustion, yawning and stretching quite a few times. Each time he raised his arm above his head, he caught Geralt eying him almost hungrily. Finally, he smirked and purred, "See something you like?" He could've sworn he actually turned pink.

Geralt flushed and looked away with a growl. "Shut it, bard."

Jaskier's smirk grew. "Make me, witcher," he sassed back. Geralt should've pounced right then and there, but what if he actually didn't like it? What if he somehow made him uncomfortable? He'd rather continue his secret teasing not knowing than test it now and risk giving it all up. This was so stupid, he'd never over think this if it were Eskel or Lambert sassing back. He wouldn't think twice about putting them in their place each time they smarted off. Then again, he didn't want to wrap them in his arms and shower them with kisses and rip off their clothes. He figured those feelings might be the source of his hesitation.

When Geralt failed to act, only offering his signature "Hmm," Jaskier sighed. Perhaps he really had been asleep and had no clue about his giggly weakness. He was sure that if he knew, he wouldn't think twice before turning him into an incoherent mess, if only to tease him for it later and hold it over his head each time he acted out.

Or maybe, for whatever reason, he was in it for the long con. Heh, wouldn't that be something. "That's what I thought," he tried to sound smug but it was more of a fed up huff. With another fake yawn, he laid down in the bed and snuggled under the covers. "Whoo, I'm beat. Good night Geralt."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Good night Jaskier... Sweet dreams," he added. He knew he didn't really have a nightmare last night, but he wanted to say it anyway. The quick flutter of the other man's heart was definitely worth it.

Jaskier stuttered, "T-thank you." In all their years traveling together, Geralt had never been this, well, sweet was probably the best word for it, as he had in the past few months. It made him want to swoon.

He settled down and tried to slow his heart enough to hopefully trick Geralt. He was really hoping for a similar event to last night. He thought of boring things, but nothing too boring. He didn't want to actually fall asleep, because he needed to prove something.

Geralt followed suit soon after and climbed under the covers. He wraps an arm around his middle, smiling when he feels Jaskier lean into the touch. 30 minutes pass... An hour. That's funny, his heartbeat is still slightly faster than it usually is when he's asleep... He must be dreaming. He hopes it isn't a real nightmare this time.

He reached up and gently cards through his hair. "So soft," he mutters to himself. His voice is soothing and barely even a whisper.

Jaskier does an excellent job keeping his heart rate in check. The affectionate touch is so unlike how Geralt normally is and he can feel himself falling even deeper for the man.

His hand caresses the back of his head before scratching the nape of his neck with blunt nails. Jaskier's lips can't help but twitch in a sleepy smile. Geralt smiles back and targets the hairline. The spot is surprisingly sensitive and he has to refrain himself from slapping a hand over his mouth to conceal the small snort that leaves him. He hears Geralt's soft snickers. That beautiful bastard.

He traces his fingers over the shell of his ear, and giggles are flowing more freely from Jaskier's lips. His shoulders shake ever so slightly. He's feeling particularly bold tonight and nestles his face in the crook just behind his ear and between the back of his skull. He takes a deep whiff of his scent. Sandalwood and fresh blackberries with a hint of lavender.

Meanwhile Jaskier's trying hard not to lose his mind or blow his cover. Right now he couldn't be more thankful that he was turned away from the man. The growing heat between his legs would've surely given him away and Geralt would've never spoken to him again. His warm breath tickled him lightly and breathy gasps of laughter left his lips.

He began nipping and nibbling the very back of his neck and Jaskier's giggles raised in pitch. His hand fluttered under his chin and scratched maddeningly along his jawline. He kept it up for a few more minutes before stopping as he himself settled in for sleep.

Jaskier couldn't feel more awake.

~~~~

Twice in a row could be a coincidence, but three would make it a pattern. They left the town and set out on the road, traveling as they normally do. Jaskier's mind was reeling from the night before. He could still feel Geralt nuzzling into his neck and he craved more. That night, when he set up camp, Jaskier pressed their bedrolls together. Geralt gave him a strange look but didn't protest. Maybe he was just as excited about going to bed as he was.

After dinner, they laid on their backs and stared at the stars. They pointed to different constellations and shared the stories they've heard about them. When a shooting star streaked across the sky, Jaskier shook his shoulder and pointed up.

"Did you see it? Come on, make a wish!" he closed his eyes and silently asked for the last two nights not to be a fluke. That it would happen again because that would mean Geralt liked it too. And that meant he liked him.

Geralt rolled his eyes but complied. His lids slid shut and he wished that for once emotions came easy to him. That he could let Jaskier know how he felt. They continued their stargazing for a little while longer before settling in for the night.

Jaskier again stayed awake, hoping for a repeat of the last two nights. And again, Geralt continued his secret routine of hearing Jaskier's sweet laughter before he dozed off. Though this time, Geralt starts lower, scratching the backs of his knees. Soft snickers fell from his lips as he curled up. Geralt's hand scratched up the backs of his thighs and Jaskier kicked in his "sleep."

Meanwhile Geralt wore the fondest smile on his face. His hands drew idle shapes over his hip and along his back. Jaskier arched away and squirmed like mad. His fingers tapped out rhythms to songs, his songs. That made him practically melt in his arms. He really had been listening... both hands traced the soft muscle on his stomach and made circles over the soft skin. And then he added that torturously light, incredibly teasing nibbling at the back of his neck and it was just too much to bear. The closeness of it all. The overwhelming fondness he clearly felt but was afraid to share. The touches so light they drove him completely mad and he was begging for a firmer touch that would send him straight to utter insanity.

He couldn't bear it anymore. He needed something more; he needed things like this to happen during the day, when he didn't have to pretend. He needed Geralt to know it was okay and he needed to know how he felt because he was sure he'd explode if he had to endure another night of this incredibly torturous, overwhelmingly tender moment that he couldn't enjoy to its fullest extent. So he finally snapped.

"Fuck Ihihi cahan't do this anymore!" he quietly exclaimed and turned around to face Geralt. Said man looked like a frozen deer. Jaskier thought it was rather adorable. His eyes were wide in shock, mouth slightly agape and his cheeks puffed out in embarrassment. Though his face couldn't exactly blush, his ears would turn red and his normally warm body temperature would rise even more. But he didn't need to blush for Jaskier to know he was incredibly flustered.

Fuck. Geralt was left speechless as Jaskier turned around and snapped at him. He'd blown it: had gone too far and woke Jaskier and upset the other man. He probably thought he was weird and a creep and- wait... I can't do this anymore. What did that mean?

"I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep," he managed to choke out but didn't meet Jaskier's gaze. He rolled his eyes and gave a small, amused huff.

"Yeah, I figured as much. But it's okay, really, you don't have to only do this when you think I'm asleep," he assured softly.

Geralt nodded, still unable to look directly at him. "So uh, how long have you known?" he dared to ask. Jaskier shrugged.

"Just the three nights, including tonight. Wait- how long have you been doing this?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Geralt muttered something, barely audible. "Speak up dear, we don't all have witcher hearing," he teased lightly.

Geralt turned away so he didn't have to look at him. "Few months." Now it was Jaskier's turn to gawk, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

"A few months?" he asked incredulously. Geralt curled in on himself. He'd gone too far, he knew he should've never done this, should've just let him be. But he was selfish and secretly needy.

No wonder Jaskier had been having those teasing dreams! It was all Geralt. "You're telling me that you made me suffer for months dreaming of you turning me into an incoherent mess while I could've had the real thing?" he asked before he could think better of it and promptly snapped his mouth shut. Geralt turned back around at those words, curious and hopeful.

While Geralt wasn't capable of blushing, Jaskier was not so lucky. His cheeks glowed bright red, even in the dark. Now it was his turn to look away. Geralt let his lips quirk up in a tiny smile. "So... you're not mad?"

Jaskier scoffed and crossed his arms. "I'm a little fed up that you thought you could only do this in my sleep, but no. I'm not mad," he said, and a soft smile of his own found his face. "What I want to know is why. I mean, I tried to make it clear that it was okay for you to, y'know, be affectionate if you so wished. Clapping my shoulder, holding my hand, touching my hair, I never once shied away from your touch. I thought I was doing a rather fine job domesticating you-" Geralt scoffed and Jaskier glared playfully.

"I'm not domesticated," he said. Jaskier chuckled.

"Believe me, I know. But, I liked to think you were warming up to me, that you would just do something if you felt like it. And I mean, I know I can be a handful and you could've very easily put me in my place with that knowledge. Most people wouldn't think twice before using that to their advantage. So why didn't you?" he asked gently.

Geralt grunted as he thought of a sufficient answer. "I found out one night by accident. You told me in your sleep after I pressed against your side. I thought about doing it, but it just. It never seemed like the right time to test it. I'm not really... playful or funny, I guess. I wasn't too sure how to go about it," he admits. Jaskier scooted closer, eyes glistening in the pale moonlight streaming in through the trees.

"But something made you continue. What was it?"

Geralt tilted his head down, as if to hide. "I'm not sure. You just seemed so happy. And I liked that I was the one making you happy. You just seemed so peaceful when you were sleeping, and then you'd smile and uh, you have a nice laugh."

Jaskier's heart was fluttering, and he was sure Geralt could hear it. "Geralt? Do you... like me?" He looked at him.

"Of course I do."

"No I mean, do you like like me?" he asked nervously, biting his lip and trying not to sound too hopeful, too desperate.

Geralt nodded after a moment of tense silence, giving a gentle hum. His lips quirked in a slightly teasing smile. "I suppose I do. Do you... like like me?"

Jaskier couldn't help but giggle at his adorable awkwardness. "I've only been following you across the continent for years and years. What do you think?"

"So that's a yes?" Jaskier tilted his head back with a bright laugh and nodded.

"Good." He hugged him close and they settled under the covers. A beat, and then realization dawned on Geralt. "Wait, so when you said I made you suffer for months without the real thing, does that mean you like it?"

Jaskier went stiff and his blush deepened. "No comment." Geralt's smile widened.

"I think it does."

"Shut uuuuup!" Jaskier whined and playfully smacked him.

Geralt chuckled deeply. The sound sent a pleasant chill up Jaskier's spine. "I'll take that as a yes. It's too late for us to make a ruckus, but you should know that I plan to test the extent of my knowledge tomorrow."

Jaskier was already giggling and squirming away. "C-can't wait."

[yourdaddychan]

the man with stars in his eyes

warnings : I think this has fluff, harassment, blood, terrible writing, blowjob, fingering, all that pizzaz, my girl here is such a lovesick dramatic person SMH THIS KID also she's so trusting 

a/n : this is lowkey a soulmate au but like only lowkey- for my favorite- and the only ones I know- minho stans uwu accept this gift @nightshade-minho​, @mini-meanhoe​, @mikoto-ica-fics

word count : 3.5K [ dayum ]

___________

You hugged the dirty pole with all your might, trying to control your breathing. The train was lurching forward, as usual, courtesy of the drunk driver. Why was that even allowed? You rolled your eyes and let out a yelp as one hand flew from the pole. Hugging the pole again, you shut your eyes, hoping that the man behind you would leave at the next stop. The man had been harassing you for some time. It started with catcalling and whistling, then turned into him talking to you. It shouldn’t even be called talking. He was word-raping you. His mother should wipe his mouth out with soap. You dreaded using the train, but no matter how much you begged, your parents wouldn’t give you money for a car. 

And so there you were, hugging the pole for dear life as the man holding on to the pole behind you stared at your ass openly.The train finally came to a stop, and you almost fell on the seat next to the old lady with gratefulness. Maybe you could finally sleep now. The old lady could protect you, right? Yeah, she had that umbrella next to her she was holding threateningly. In fear of the man, you were going with a wonderful hour of sleep. You knew it was stupid, but what could you do? He followed you everywhere, only to stop outside your apartment. Maybe if you close your eyes for just a second…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ 

You woke up with a jolt as you heard shouting. Looking around wildly, you try to decipher what was happening. Your bracelet was gone, now on the wrist of one of the men fighting. You suddenly became dizzy. Is that… blood? Drops of red liquid were on the floor of the vehicle, almost aesthetically placed. You stare where most of the shouting was taking place and make your way there. You clutch the pole again, trying not to throw up, making the stench worse. Finally lifting your head, you saw the fight going on. There he was.

A man with tattoos up his arms, throwing punches at the creepy old man. No way. The crowd’s reaction was the opposite of yours. Some didn’t even care, they probably saw this every day. Some were recording it, probably to show their friends later. You, on the other hand, were in awe. Where everyone else saw a tattooed criminal, you saw an angel who held the stars in his eyes. The tattooed man wipes his brow and smirks at you. Oh god. You blush and look away.

The creepy man runs off the bus at the next stop, along with your favorite bracelet, which he stole while you were sleeping. You sigh. What have I done to deserve this? You were a good kid, with good grades, and you always helped whenever you could. Somehow, you ended up with the worst luck. The tattooed man was a stroke of luck that you knew would leave.

The said man walks up to you, combing through his hair with one hand. He extends a hand to you, coyly looking at you up and down. “Hey, princess. I’m Minho.” He smirks down at you, as his extended hand shows off his muscles from his sleeveless tee. How did he look so effortlessly hot?

You blush harder than you did before. “Minho… such a pretty name! I’m Y/N!”

He hums. “How about I treat you to some lunch, princess?” He asks, examining your face for every detail of discomfort.

Your smile widens, and you nod enthusiastically. When the other man had called you darling, you had been filled with shivers of disgust. But this, this was different. When that name had left his lips, you had immediately been filled with warm pulses. Not only did it envelop your body, making you want more, but it also left heat that pooled in your lower half.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You awkwardly held your menu in front of your tomato-red face as Minho continued to shamelessly smirk at you. So far, you had learned absolutely nothing about him, except he really liked cats, and that he ran a flower shop. All he would talk about were his cats, Sooni, Doongi, and Dori. Knowing absolutely nothing about cats, you just nodded along to whatever he said, admiring the shine in his eyes that brightened whenever he talked about his cats. You loved the way his muscles rippled, showing off the tattoos when he held the door open for you. You adored the way his veiny hands looked when they handed you a menu. Face it, you were whipped. The date hadn’t even finished, and the man had you in the palm of his hand.

“Y/N?” Minho’s soft voice immediately snaps you back to reality. Your eyes widen. All the man was doing was drinking water, and you were drooling over it. There was no way he was even real. Minho tilts his head, staring at you carefully. “You okay there, princess?”

Another nickname.  Your subconscious noted as your brain flooded with thoughts, both pg13 and not.

“You don’t look so hot…” Minho commented, getting out of his chair and next to you, laying a soft hand on your heated face. 

Did Minho just say I’m not hot? Then you realized. His side was now pressed to yours, meaning that his muscled arm was touching your arm. The back of his cool hand was held up to your forehead, making you warmer than ever. His plush lips were pouted in concern, and he was staring directly into your eyes. The eyes are supposed to be the window to the soul, and all you could do is hope that he wouldn’t immediately figure out what you were thinking about him.

"I should take you home or something." Minho continued to speak, but you weren't listening. All you could focus on was his hand on your forehead, and his torso pressed up against yours. Your forehead was burning up by the second. There was no way it was the flu since you had not got colds before. There was only one explanation, which sat in the form of the man in front of you. Lee Minho. "Y/N?" Oh god. Oh fuck. He had moved even closer, and you literally could not breathe. One more inch, just one tilt of his head, and... well, you would have kissed. Those pretty looking, luxurious lips would be on yours.

Finally, after what feels like a century, he moves away. You feel like a part of you was missing. He wasn't even touching you for that long, and yet you craved the warmth he providing. Ugh. Time to do something about it. You whined softly, slowly sliding back into Minho's warmth, unable to bear without it. 

This time, Minho widened his eyes. You looked adorable in your warm hoodie, head leaning on his shoulder. He wasn't one for public affection, or affection at all (besides his cats), but he wanted to cuddle you and never let go. He lets a soft smile show, and then immediately stood up.

"Wh-what?" Startled, you raised both eyebrows questioningly.

"You have to go home. You're burning." Minho stubbornly crosses his arms, refusing to give in. 

You sigh and take his offered hand. "Fine."

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You sit next to Minho in the car as he casually drives with one hand. There was something so unusual about him. He made you feel safe, unlike all the other boys you had dated. You didn't even properly know this man, but you were willing to get in the car with him, not once, but twice. You were even contemplating to keep on pretending to be sick so he would stay with you. It was a perfect plan.

Out of nowhere, he grinned, and produced a perfect rose and held it in front of you. “For my flower~” He smirked, and tucked it in your hair. 

“Wh-what?” You blushed, wanting to turn into a turtle and vanish inside your hoodie. 

He gave you another smirk, and turned his eyes to the road. “You look beautiful, darling. I thought I told you I worked in a flower shop?” He purred. You slouch down in your chair.

Once the two of you arrived at your house, you slumped in the seat and opened the door slowly. "Minho... I do think I'm sick..." 

He worriedly looks at you, looking at you up and down. "Do you have any roommates? Or friends who are not busy?" You shake your head. "Then maybe I should stay... if that's alright with you?" His gorgeous eyes meet yours, and you dip your head down shyly in a nod. Your plan had worked.

You both enter the house, and he immediately lays you down on a couch, grabbing the nearest blanket and pillows to prop you up. Minho gives you a half-smile and gets to work. Filling up a bottle with warm water, he hands it to you. He takes more of your blankets and drapes it over you, lips twisting in seriousness. 

You snuggle comfortably in the blankets, knowing that Minho would take care of you properly. He finally finishes what he was doing, and sits down next to you. 

"Minho?" You ask in a sleepy voice, moving your head so it was resting on his lap. "Can you stay here?" You weren't even pretending at this point. You were so tired from everything you had to deal with, and Minho's thigh was so reassuring.

He looks down at you, soft hair somehow shining in the false light. "Of course, princess." He soothed, giving you a light pat on your hair. 

You snuggle your face into his lap, closing your eyes and giving a small yawn. As you gradually start to drift off into the world of slumber, Minho moves his hand to your hair and starts stroking it absentmindedly as he stares at his phone, probably looking at the latest cat video. 

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You wake up to Minho jolting in fear from a couple of pings from your phone. Giggling, you reach over to grab your phone. "Minho, chill."

He blushes, slightly embarrassed. "Oh... right... I knew that!" He scratches the back of his neck to play off what just happened. 

"Ay, Y/N, I'm finally having that sleepover you guys have been pushing for, feel free to invite a plus one!" You read. It was from Chan, one of your best friends since the third grade. You had been friends ever since he hugged you when you broke his crayon. A plus one, he says? Well, you had the perfect plus one in mind. You look over to Minho, seeing him fluff up a pillow for no apparent reason besides distracting himself. Perfect.

"Hey, Minho? How would you like to go to a sleepover or something with me?" Minho looks over to you and grins. 

"Sure! Details, please." 

You spend the next few hours giving Minho a summary of all of your friends. 

"And so that's why Jeongin screams like a dolphin!" You finish, excitedly looking at Minho for his reaction. 

He bites back a grin and raises his eyebrow. "This explains a lot about you."

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ [ time skip to the sleepover ]

You step out of the car, armed with Minho in one hand and your stuffed animal, Bob, in the other. You ring the doorbell and bite your lip nervously. Will they even like Minho? What if he doesn't like them? 

The door opens with Felix draped across the door frame. "Draw me like one of your French girls." He purrs seductively at you, making you giggle. 

"Felix, what the actual fuck?" You push him away and enter the house, saluting Jisung before flopping on the couch next to him. 

Jisung promptly puts an arm around you, taking your plushie. "This will make a nice addition to my stuffed animal HEADS." He screams the last part, holding his hands up maliciously. You snatch the animal back, sticking your tongue out at Jisung. 

"I'm going to rip your squirrel's head off if you do that! And please, calm down, we have a newbie!" You gesture towards Minho, who's awkwardly standing there. 

"Um..." He blinks, and steps in. "Hey, I'm Minho, Y/N's friend!" He smiles at everyone, but you don't return his smile. His friend? Yikes. Of course, you had to be the one to fall for the man who only thought of you as a friend.

Jisung hops off the couch and walks to Minho. Looking at him up and down, eyes narrowed, he finally breaks into one of his heart smiles. "Somehow, I feel like I'm going to like you." 

Chan nods. "Yeah, welcome to the club."

Felix grins evilly, thinking of yet another Tik-Tok reference. "Welcome to the bread bank, we sell bread, we sell loaves. We got bread on the deck, bread on the floor." He ends with finger gunning a clueless Minho.

Seungmin cracks his knuckles and points to Minho. "But if you hurt her, you're doomed. We have a black belt in taekwondo, and a boxer."

Minho widens his eyes at the threat. "I wasn't planning to hurt her anytime." He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, hiding half of his body behind your frame. 

Changbin rubs his hands together and stands up, planning to ease the tension. "Guys, you know how it is! A newcomer means we play truth or dare~" He smirks. "Alright, Minho. Let me get my truth or dare app out while we all sit in a circle, okay?" The boys obediently sit in a circle, motioning for you to sit next to Minho as Changbin gets his app out. "Okay..." He clicks the dare button and looks delighted at the dare. Turning it, he shows it to the circle. "Minho has to do 7 minutes of heaven with the person to the right of him!! And that means... Y/N?" 

Changbin looks at you, silently asking if you were okay with it. Nodding, you stand up. "A dare is a dare, right?"

"Right." Minho stands up as well, clearing his throat, and takes your hand. "To the closet, I guess... ” 

He brings you to the closet while the boys snicker behind you and continue their game.

You sigh. Of course, I had to be the one. They probably even planned this, the little shits. They had always been able to read your mind.

You enter the closet and shut the door behind you. You nervously look at Minho, who smirks at you. “These walls are pretty thick, so we can be as loud as needed.” He purrs, eyes hooded with lust. 

You choke on air at his boldness. “Wh-what..” You don’t even finish before Minho makes his way towards you, moving his arm around your hip to provide support.

“Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice. Don’t you want to play with me?” 

You whimper softly at his degrading word, already feeling your heat starting to pool. You move your lips to Minho’s plush ones. He runs his tongue over your lip and sucks your lower lip softly. Your teeth click together with Minho’s as you open your mouth for him. 

“God, if you keep whimpering like that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself,” Minho growls, biting his lip. 

“Then don’t.” You whisper, not even comprehending how this is happening to you right now.

His face darkens with want, and he pushes you against the closet door, pinning your wrists above you. He removes your shirt and bra, pausing for a moment to admire your body. “What a good little doll, all for me. How about you suck on my fingers, hm? Get them nice and wet for me?” 

You shut your eyes and nod, opening your mouth obediently. He pushes two fingers in, and you immediately suck on them, circling your tongue around his fingers. He groans softly. 

“I want those pretty lips around my cock.” He removes his spit-coated fingers from your mouth and drags them along your now naked torso. “Kneel, now.”

You drop to your knees immediately, innocently looking up at Minho as he unbuckles his belt. You couldn’t believe this was happening. In the morning, you were terrified of going home, but here you were, about to suck someone’s dick. Well, he wasn’t exactly just a someone. He was an angel. A cat-loving angel. But right now, he looked like a demon, with his lust-filled eyes, and his pretty lips that were permanently in a smirk.

You blinked in shock as he removed his boxers. He was... big. You promptly wrapped your swollen lips around him, making eye contact with him. Minho swore as you flicked your tongue at his slit, and moved his hands to grab your hair. You moan softly as he continues to pull at your hair to make more vibrations envelop his length. 

“You’re so tight, baby...” Giving up on self-control entirely, he thrusts into your throat, legs shaking as he finally cums in your mouth. 

You lap all of it up, refusing to let a single drop spill, and look up at him again. 

“Hey, guys? It’s been way more than 7 minutes!”

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ [ time skip ]

It’s been 1 month since Minho last contacted you. After the 7 minutes of heaven at Chan’s sleepover, he had awkwardly avoided you. On the way out, he had whispered something in Chan’s ear and left without a word to you. According to Chan, the two of them had been old high school classmates, and they didn’t even realize it until they talked. You assumed they had been keeping in touch with each other, as Chan kept on asking you random questions about Minho from time to time. 

Yes, of course, you had liked Minho. Yes, of course, you thought he was boyfriend material. And no, the creepy old dude had never bothered you again once Minho had confronted him. 

Without Minho, the days of the month seemed blurry. You felt as if you turned into a zombie, and your brain was all woozy. Even poor Jisung, who tried to cheer you up over and over again couldn’t do the job. Even though you had spent only three days together, you felt that the two of you had connected in some way. Your eyes light up by a noise coming from your phone. Could it be Minho? He had left his number in your sleeping bag, but never texted to you.

It was your lucky day. Minho’s DMS with you (that were currently nonexistent) were blowing up. ‘Okay, Chan.’ Wait, he thought you were Chan? Your eyebrows furrowed. Of course, he hadn’t meant to text you. As your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, another phrase caught your eye. ‘So, there’s this girl...’ Your face dropped. A girl, of course. The man was charismatic as fuck, there was no doubt that all the girls were falling for him. Including you.

Unable to hold yourself back, you quickly typed out the word, ‘Yeah?’ and sent it, biting your lip with anxiety. Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N. 

‘She’s way out of my league, though.’ You rolled your eyes at that. Please. Way out his league? He was perfect. He was out of everyone’s league. ‘How do I ask her out?’ You sigh. You probably needed to give him proper advice, but the dark part of your heart wanted to see him fail, just so he would still be single. 

‘Maybe just ask? I’m sure she’s dying to go with you.’ You toss yourself on the bed, shutting your eyes. You did the right thing, of course. But did I do the right thing for myself? You try to go to sleep, convinced that that’s the only way your brain will forget what just happened, but you’re interrupted by another pinging sound from your phone.

You sigh and sit up, grabbing your phone and opening it. What did Minho need now? 

‘Wait...Y/N?’ You read out loud, heat spreading throughout your body as you read your name in his text. 

‘That’s me.’ You admit. 

‘Darling...” You exhaled slowly. Here it came. By now, Chan would have already told Minho that you liked him. No wonder he didn’t text you. Now that he realized that he was texting you, he would have to reject you. You inhaled again and prepared for the crushing defeat that was getting rejected. 

‘You’re the person I was trying to ask out...’ You read slowly. Wait. What? You reread it three times, confused. There’s no way. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal while texting him. 

‘Really?’ What a stupid thing to ask. 

‘Really. Y/N, would you like to go out with me? I was planning for an entire month, and-’ You couldn’t read the rest. Your eyes started to blur with tears of happiness. The last time you were dizzy, it was because of blood on the floor. And now, the very man that put that blood on the floor had asked you out. The man that made you feel safe. Your angel. You were lost, but the man with stars in his eyes became your compass.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

[knoepfchen]

not sleepy enough to give it up

Written for @herbeloved82 as part of the @theoldguardevents Gift Exchange 2020

You wanted Joe and Nicky, and you wanted NSFT, and so this... yeah, this is PWP. But it’s also the season for soft things, and so this has become altogether rather soft, which I hope is fine by you.

Title is from Mary Oliver’s I Don’t Want to Lose, which I thought was very fitting for them and this fic. Enjoy!

When Nicky comes back from the kitchen with his glass of water, Joe is still fast asleep, sprawled out on their bed. It’s dark in these early hours of the morning, but his body is washed in the warm glow of the lights Nile strung up on their window the day before.

I don’t want to lose a single thread

from the intricate brocade of this happiness.

I want to remember everything.

Which is why I’m lying awake, sleepy

but not sleepy enough to give it up.

Just now, a moment from years ago:

the early morning light, the deft, sweet

gesture of your hand

                         reaching for me.

At the time, Nicky frowned a little, but even Andy let her room undergo the 'Christmas treatment' and so he'd let her be. It’s not that they never celebrate Christmas, and he certainly wasn’t going to hamper Nile’s enthusiasm while she adjusted to living with them, but he didn’t quite see what constant illumination of their room was going to do to help them ‘get in the spirit.’

Now, though. Now the light splays over the muscles of Joe’s back, smooths into a shadow at the dip of his hip bone, directing Nicky’s gaze ever so gently to the curve of his ass, the little happy trail leading into his boxers. Oh, yes. Now, Nicky sees.

He leans against the doorframe and takes a sip of his water, thinking not for the first time how unbearably lucky he got all those years ago. Didn’t feel like it at the time, of course. But it’s rung true every time since, and not just because Joe is, what’s that expression Nile uses? Very easy on the eyes.

Joe makes a little snuffling sound and buries his head deeper into the pillow, the hand splayed out in front of him patting the bed in jerky little movements. And it shouldn’t be this endearing, is the thing, that Joe reaches for Nicky even in his sleep, takes less than five minutes to notice he’s gone. It’s not even new information to Nicky at this point, but he can’t help it. Even if Joe wasn’t the most beautiful man in the universe to him, Nicky would still feel that hopeless pull in moments like this, that warmth and longing coursing through his body that he knows will only go away once he’s snuggled up against Joe again.

He’s been standing in the doorway for too long. Nicky pads over to their bed, careful not to make too much noise, and sets his half-empty glass of water down on the nightstand. Slides back under the covers facing Joe, angling his cold feet away from Joe’s thighs where they’re still tucked up to fit against Nicky’s like they were made for it. The thought still makes him giddy sometimes.  

He should turn around, pull the blanket back up to shield them from the cold, but he can’t quite bring himself to look away from the warm swathes of light on Joe’s body yet. He’s beautiful in everything he wears, but never more so than wearing just this. As if sensing that Nicky is back, Joe reaches for his waist, still clumsy in his sleep. Tries to pull Nicky close once he gets his hand on him, nearly making Nicky topple from where he’s propped his head on his arm.

Nicky stifles a chuckle but it’s too late, Joe’s eyelids are already fluttering open. His hand tightens on Nicky’s hip and he’s blinking up at him with wide eyes.

“Babe, why are you staring at me?” His voice is scratchy with sleep and he looks so disoriented Nicky doesn’t know what to do with all the fondness welling in his chest.

“Babe?”

Joe shrugs with sluggish limbs. “It’s modern.”

“Just right for us, I see,” Nicky says, but he can’t help smiling, couldn’t stop if he wanted to. He wonders sometimes if he’d be half in love already, just at the sight of Joe’s curls if they met in an ordinary life, or if it would take until Joe smiled up at him. It can’t be much more than that, if the way the combination of both makes his throat constrict now.

Joe makes a little keening sound, tilts his head in the way that Nicky knows means he’s angling for a kiss. And who is Nicky to deny this man, well—anything, really.

He leans down to press his lips against Joe’s, the hand that’s not holding him up coming to slide over Joe’s torso, cupping his neck, his jaw. It’s a soft kiss, unhurried in the way kisses can only be when they’re traded early in the morning, without direction, to keep warm. There’s no intent behind it either, or at least there isn’t until Joe’s hand slides under Nicky’s t-shirt, holding him close as he turns onto his back, pulling Nicky on top of him. Doesn’t take much from there for the kiss to deepen, grow sloppy with spit and slack jaws as their lips slide against each other. Nicky pushes his tongue into Joe’s mouth once, twice, just to hear the sound Joe makes low in his throat. Feels his hot fingers dig into his back again, hips pushing against Nicky’s in a needy little roll.

Joe seems definitely interested in something more than kissing happening, but when Nicky pulls back to look at his face, his eyes are closed again, his breaths coming slow for all that they hitch when Nicky grinds down on him. Joe makes a growling sound at the loss of contact, his free hand sliding into Nicky’s hair and trying to pull him back down for more kisses. The warm light from the window has rendered Joe’s features both soft and steeped in shadow, and Nicky is smiling despite himself, he can’t help it.

“What do you want, my love?” He noses Joe’s jaw, and Joe’s hold on him grows firm for a moment, then melts back into a tight embrace.

“Just you,” Joe sighs, but his hips have begun rolling, the hard line of his dick pressing against Nicky’s hipbone over and over. It’s slow, and probably really ineffective, angle-wise, but it’s also seriously doing it for Nicky, is the thing. He presses his mouth to the side of Joe’s neck, just under his ear and presses an open-mouthed kiss there.

“Sorry, I should have specified. How do you want me?”

Joe’s sighs under Nicky’s mouth but only turns his head to nuzzle Nicky’s neck, which is nice but unhelpful.

Nicky kisses his neck again. “I’d ride you but I’m worried you’d fall back asleep while I open myself up for you.”

The sound Joe makes at that is more of a whine, the hand on Nicky’s lower back pulling him closer as he rocks up into his hip. “Nicky,” he growls, his voice deep with both sleep and arousal now, and Nicky can feel something hot pool low in his belly, “you can’t just say that and then not follow through.”

Nicky chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathless huff, even to him. “I’d also let you fuck my thighs, but the rhythm you’re setting is more that of a lullaby.”

“Hayati,” Joe complains, flicking his eyes open to glare at Nicky, but it’s ineffective, because then they’re kissing again, and this time they’re not even close to holding back.

“Much better,” Nicky gasps in between kisses, and he’s not sure if he means the term of endearment or the pick-up in pace, Joe’s tongue meeting his own now, Joe’s hands slowly roaming up and down Nicky’s back, sending shivers all over his body. God, but he loves this man.

“I don’t care how I’ll have you,” Joe pants when they’re both catching their breath, “I just want you. Need you.” He punctuates the last sentence with another roll of his hips, but while they were making out the angle changed, and his dick now slides against Nicky’s, separated only by their pyjama bottoms. Nicky hisses at the contact, the sensation travelling straight up his spine until he can feel it tingling at the bottom of his scalp. “Just want to be close to you. Feel your skin on mine.”

“I think we can do that,” Nicky says, and pushes himself up a little to help Joe where he’s pawing at the hem of his t-shirt. Pulls it over his head and drops it over the side of the bed, then dives back in to kiss Joe, slow and lingering, grinding their hips against each other. It’s a languid rhythm that has him almost mad with want in no time at all, Joe reaching down to push his hands into Nicky’s pants, cup his ass, pull him impossibly closer.  

“Touch me,” Nicky gasps, teeth catching on Joe’s lower lip. Joe does.

It’s a miracle, Nicky thinks, that it can still feel like this, after all these years, like it did the first time. All the words they've spoken, all the blows they’ve come to, all the times they’ve fucked each other senseless since. And every time anew, Nicky yearns for Joe’s touch, craves it, feels like he’ll combust if Joe doesn’t get his hands on him right then, right there.

They both wrestle with their pants, struggling them down their legs before kicking them off at the bottom of the bed, which takes longer than it should, but they can’t stop kissing, can’t stop touching each other now.

Joe has his hand around Nicky’s dick, stroking him with the same languid pace Nicky used to kiss him earlier. Makes a sound low in his throat when Nicky wraps his fingers around Joe's own length, and Nicky wants to drink him in, devour him.

“Sure you don’t want to fuck me?” he asks against Joe’s lips, both of them too uncoordinated by now to kiss properly.

“I would,” Joe says, and his eyes are a sight to behold, blown wide and glistening in the light, “but I don’t think I’d last.” He brings the hand he isn’t using to get Nicky off up to his neck and holds Nicky in place to press their foreheads together. “And you’d be a fool to think I’d let you get up now to get the lube when I’ve got you here, like this. So warm, so close. A feast for my eyes, and hands. Mine to touch and mine alone.”

He twists his wrist on the next upstroke and Nicky moans into his mouth. “Always so—hnngg—verbose. Even half asleep.”

“You love it,” Joe whispers, twisting his wrist again as he picks up the pace, and it’s all Nicky can do to hold on to his shoulder, his own strokes getting frantic.

“I do,” Nicky says, so low he’s surprised Joe even hears it, “love it. Love you. Very much.”

“I love you,” Joe says against his skin, “I love you even when you wake me in the middle of the night, I love you even when you’re being deliberately difficult, but I love you the most like this, making those sounds, and your hands, your h—” He cuts himself off, sucking air through his teeth, and Nicky knows he’s close, grips him a little tighter, speeds up. “Nicky, your hands,” Joe half-whispers, half-shouts and then he’s surging forward, kissing Nicky like he wants to drown himself in him, and comes all over Nicky’s hand.

Nicky hums in the back of his throat, stroking Joe through his come-down. His hand is sticky and slippery now, but he doesn’t care. All he feels is warm, and keyed-up, a coil in him strung so tightly he feels like he might be driven out of his body when Joe nips at his lip one final time. Picks up the pace with his hand and says: “That was so good, hayati, I’m going to fuck you so good later, hard and fast, just how you like it.” Nicky closes his eyes, and Joe kisses both of his cheeks. “Maybe in the shower so the others don’t hear you scream when you come,” and Nicky very nearly does just that when Joe twist his wrist around the head of his dick one final time. Has to muffle himself against Joe’s shoulder as his orgasm rolls over and out of him, riding it out against Joe’s body, his hand, his beautiful mouth on Nicky’s temple.

They lie like that for a while afterwards, just breathing against each other. Nicky can feel Joe’s heartbeat all over, and whenever he blinks his eyes open, he just sees their bodies entwined, awash in the golden glow from the lights in their window. Only when he hears Joe’s breathing even out again, on the verge of sleep himself, can he rouse himself to dig around for a tissue on his nightstand.

Joe makes an unhappy sound immediately, reaching for him, and Nicky rolls his eyes, chuckles, as he gives them both a perfunctory wipe down. Drops the tissues somewhere and lets Joe drape himself across his back, snake his arm around Nicky and hold him tight. Nicky sighs as Joe nuzzles into his neck, threads their fingers together and closes his eyes. He can just about press a kiss to Joe’s knuckles before sleep is already tugging at his eyelids.

He is warm. He is content. He is with the love of his long, long life.

And everywhere there is light.

[thirsty-x1]

Lazy Love | Cho Seungyoun

Request(s):

Haha fuck... your sub hangyul fic killed me i love you😭😭😭 And now that requests are open you know I have to request something with cockwarming seungyoun it’s my fucking dream 😭😭 sorry it’s not specific but if you added it to another fic i will love you forEVER. (But, honestly, i’ll love you no matter what you write)

one-shot smut about cockwarming seungyoun all night and then he fucks u lazily in the morning 🥺 can you put lots of dirty talk like he’s very loud in bed thank you! 🥺

↬ Pairing: Seungyoun x fem!reader.

↬ Genre: Fluff, Smut.

↬ Warnings: explicit language, cockwarming, unprotected sex, very soft Seungyoun that deserves the whole world.

↬ Word Count: 1.3k

↬ Song Recommendation: "Lazy Love" by Eden ft. Younha. It’s so good... and it really makes you feel and think about this kind of sensual sex.

The sunshine rays slightly illuminated the room, the dust particles dancing around as you opened your eyes, blinking a few times in order to get used to your surroundings. You were about to stretch when a soft breathing on your back reminded you of the situation you were currently in, your boyfriend’s arm resting on your waist like a puzzle piece pulling you closer to him. His hug was much appreciated, but you knew that if you didn’t get up right now this would end up with both of you laying in bed the whole day, so you tried to unclasp his grip from you, getting as a result him clinging more and making you aware of the warmth resting in you.

“Seungyoun…” As if to shut you up, his hand started drawing silly designs on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “We should get up…”

He let out a small complaint, his voice slightly hoarse. “Hmm… but I’m comfortable like this.”

Some nights, Seungyoun would feel more sensitive than usual, getting more whiny than usual. As those nights became more frequent, you were running out of ideas to comfort him, until he came up with another one: sleeping while he was inside of you. You smiled remembering how it felt like some kind of excuse to get more sex often, but it genuinely surprised you how he merely wanted to have you close, few times ending up with heated sessions. And if you were to be honest… you got used to it to the point where it became routine, feeling extremely lonely when he had to stay at the studio or go away and couldn’t spend nights with you.

As you continued telling the reasons to get up, he placed small kisses on your shoulders, waking up and starting to try and find another position that was more comfortable. Each bit of friction added to his caressing caused you to get wet, his member hardening until he pulled out, making you sigh before he laid on top of you, resting his head on your chest and burying in your heat again. That was his strategy whenever he didn’t want to let go of you: he knew you wouldn’t be able to fight against his heavy body and would end up just giving in.

“We can never get up early because of you doing this.” You gave up, as always, playing with his hair, admiring the contrast between his eyelashes and his pale skin as his eyes fluttered shut. “You have to get up.”

“Are you sure you want to get up now?” The playful tone in his voice was enough to know that he wasn’t going to let you go, mouth starting to suck on the skin of your breasts, his stare finding yours as he licked one of your nipples.

It was a rather sinful view, to be honest: his messy hair sticking every way, his sleepy eyes looking right back at you, his teeth nibbling on the skin softly, a smirk spreading on his lips as he felt you getting wetter. He let go of your nipple only to repeat the action with the other one, moving his hips carefully, a sigh escaping from him as you tightened around him. Seungyoun knew all and each of your weaknesses and would take advantage of them whenever he felt like, coming up to kiss you in the sweetest way.

Both of your bodies were a little bit numb, the sleepiness washing away with each touch, his movements still lazy and you weren’t sure whether he was doing it on purpose or if he simply needed to wake up. In case it was the latter, you wrapped your legs around him and pushed him against you, panting in his ear as he filled you even more, loving the way he would get harder inside of you. However, he continued to roll his hips deliberately slow, his breaths impacting against the skin of your neck before he bit on it, running his tongue up and sucking on your earlobe.

“I missed your heat so much.” You felt your walls clenching at his words, his husky tone simply adding to the attractiveness. “Keep tightening around me, love.”

You weren’t sure if he was completely awake, but you didn’t care either, following his request and hugging him close to you. At times like this, nothing felt enough, your body and mind craving for more of Seungyoun and he knew that. It drove him crazy when you couldn’t get enough of him, when nothing else was in your thoughts except for him and the way he felt, his touch on every inch of his body. His hands searched for yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as he kept them above your head, his tired eyes taking in your beauty.

The contrast between your skin and his, your swollen lips slightly parted trying to catch your breath after each sharp thrust, the way you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, your hair completely tangled, your insides trapping him and making it so much difficult to try to pull out… everything about you was intoxicating and there was nothing that he loved more than these small moments of happiness he got to share with you. All of the hardships he had to go through were definitely worth it as long he could spend the rest of his days with you like this.

“Seungyoun…” He didn’t need to hear more to understand that you were close, one of his hands leaving yours and spitting on his fingers a bit only to place them on your clit afterwards, rubbing circles on it.

“Can you feel how deep I am in you, baby?” His question was followed by his cock burying completely inside of you, smiling as you nodded while biting your bottom lip. “I want to fill you up even more.”

His innocent eyes didn’t match his words at all. “Then do it.” You could feel him twitch and it was your turn to smirk at him. “Spill inside of me, Seungyoun. Make me yours.”

“Not fair…” His pace finally picked up, the friction stimulating you as he rammed into you. “You know all of my weaknesses.”

You giggled, interrupted by a moan when he found your sweet spot. “As if you didn’t know mine...” Taking his hair and yanking it softly, you pressed kisses along the line of his jaw, a low grunt vibrating against your lips on his throat. “Cum inside me, Seungyoun.”

Even if you begged for him to do so, there was no way he would cum before you. It would simply hurt his ego if he couldn’t make you reach your own high first, so his fingers pressed harshly against your sensitive nub and rubbed faster, humming at the way you cried out for him. Feeling your thighs shaking, he rammed into you a few more times, groaning as he emptied himself in you.

“You always look so pretty when cumming…” His breathing was slightly irregular as he whispered the praising against your skin, tasting the salty flavor of the sweat coating it.

“You do too.” Your finger traced small hearts on his cheeks. “And you know what other thing is pretty? Your smelly breath.”

“Yours it’s quite cute as well, almost a killing point, honestly.” His laugh vibrated against your chest as you slapped his shoulder softly. He pressed a kiss to your lips, laying down on top of you again. “It is cute, though. I like it.”

“This is too much praising…” He pretended to not understand, hiding a grin. “You want to stay in bed, don’t you?”

Seungyoun snuggled, chuckling when you discovered him. “Five more minutes?”

“You are lucky I love you.” He sighed as one of your hands played with his hair, the other one stroking his back, before replying with a soft murmur.

“I love you too.”

Actually this could have been so much better... but since I wanted to make it very soft and sweet I tried to keep it lowkey uwu.

~Nani

| Masterlist |

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Twenty

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Fluffy part with some smut...Part Twenty-One gets really intense, so I wanted to leave this one on a good note.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen

Masterpost

It only takes you a little over an hour to get back to your apartment. You were so thankful for Harry. He took his button up right off when he walked through the door, but kept everything else on. He sat down on the couch and turned the TV on. You sat next to him and snuggled up close.

“Thank you for everything today, you were such a good sport. I couldn’t believe how well behaved my family was! I hope the tattoos thing didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. It was kinda nice to show them off a bit. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Where was your oldest sister, what’s her name? Bridget?”

“She goes to her friend’s house on Thanksgiving. She’s usually there at the beginning because she helps bring food over with my mom. We must’ve just missed her.” You shrug.

“Oh…I was just wondering because no one even mentioned her.”

“There’s nothing to mention.” You keep your eyes glued on the TV.

“Does she still live with your mum?” You sigh heavily. “Sorry, I’m prying aren’t I?”

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t really like talking about it. Her whole life style is just annoying and I hate giving it the time of day to even think about. At some point I’ll tell you all about it, but right now I just don’t feel like it.”

“Alright baby, that’s fine.” He rubs his hand along your arm. You loved the way he called you baby. One time he even called you baby girl and you thought you were going to melt into a puddle. It was a term a lot of people used to call their significant other, but coming from him it felt more special.

“I like when you say baby girl.” You say still watching the TV. He feels his cheeks heat up.

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, baby girl it is.” You feel your eyes flutter closed. He looks down at you and sees your mouth parted. It had been a really long day. He was hoping to get lost in you, but he felt equally as tired. Maybe in the morning.

You were half asleep when you felt him lift you off the couch, and carry you into your bedroom. You wanted to see what he’d do, so you pretended to stay asleep. He stood you up and leaned you against his body to unzip your dress. He let it drop to the floor. Next he unhooked your bra and let that drop too. He picked you back and laid you on your side of the bed. He tugged your nylons and panties down your legs. He grabbed one of his t-shirts from your dresser. He sits you up for a moment to put it on you, then he lays you back down and puts the blanket over you. You hear him sigh, satisfied with how he’s taken care of you. Even if had told him you were awake, you wouldn’t have had the strength to get changed.

Harry took his clothes off, leaving his boxers on, and climbed into bed with you. He wrapped his arms around you so he could spoon you. You loved the way his body felt pressed against you, and the way he nuzzled into your hair. You quickly fell back asleep in his arms.

You drifted into a dream. You were running through a field of sunflowers. Harry was running on the other side towards you. You run into his arms, he picks you up and swings you around.

“Oh Harry, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Take me, here, now, in this field.”

“Are you sure?”

“More sure than anything.”

You felt something hard rubbing up against your butt, waking you up slightly. You realize you had been pushing yourself against Harry, clearly exciting him. You hear him grunt into your ear. You’re not sure if he’s awake. You decide to tease him a little, and continue to grind your butt into him. He pressed harder against you, making your head roll back.

“(y/n)?” He said with a sleepy voice.

“Mm?”

“What you doin’?”

“Grinding against you.”

“Right.”

His hand reaches around to your front, he sighs when he feels how wet you already are. He rubs your clit with his fingers while you continue to grind against him.

“Fuck.” You say through your teeth as he rubs you harder. You were turned on by so much, his hand, his hard dick pressed against your ass, and the way you two were just so comfortable with each other.

Harry’s teeth graze your shoulder, biting down and sucking your skin.

“Bite me harder, please.” You gasp out. You don’t have to tell him twice, as he sinks his teeth further into you. You moan out loudly.

“Can I rub myself against you?”

“You are.”

“No, against your wet pu-“

“Yes.” You turn over quickly, and pull himself on you. He keeps his thumb on your clit while he presses himself against you. His boxers were slightly wet with precome.

Your hips raise to his and he moans out your name. It felt so good just to rub against each other. You knew he wanted to just stick it in you, and you were getting closer to wanting that too. You imagined how it would feel to have him stretch out, pumping and throbbing in and out of you.

“Oh, Harry, Harry.” You moan over and over. You were literally fantasizing about him while he was right there with you. He rubs your clit harder, sending you over the edge. Your hands rake through his hair, and pull on him hard as you come undone.

“Can I come on your stomach?” He asks, panting.

“Please.”

He lifts his shirt, just under your breasts. He pulls his boxers down just enough for his dick to come out. Your eyes widen as he grips himself, and jerks off onto your stomach. Thick streams of come shoot out of him and onto your stomach. He flops onto his back next to you, admiring his jizz on your tummy.

“Fuck, I love you.” He says, trying to catch his breath.

“I love you too. You’re such a man, you know that?” He looks at you with a smirk.

“Is that so, baby girl?” You giggle at the words.

“Here, let me go get a towel to clean you up.” Harry rolls his eyes when he looks at the clock. “Jesus, it’s only four in the mornin’.” He grabs a towel from your bathroom, and wipes your stomach clean.

“Plenty of time to sleep still.” He gets back in next to you. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“You’re apologizing?” He smirks. “You can wake me up like that anytime.”

“Good to know.”

“Lemme lay my head on your chest.”

You smile and shift onto your back so Harry can rest on you. You play with his hair until you both drift back off into sleep. The sound of his light snores always help you sleep better.

//

Later that morning you woke up to the smell of toast and eggs. You stretched out in your bed, and got up. You didn’t bother putting any pants on, Harry’s shirt covered you just enough. You pad into the kitchen and smile immediately. Harry is in his boxers, cooking you breakfast. You know he doesn’t eat eggs, but he was making them because you eat them. He sees you out of the corner of his eye and smiles at you.

“Mornin’ beautiful.”

“You’re making me breakfast?” You yawn and rub your eyes like a little kid.

“Mhm.” He sets up a plate for you. “Avocado toast with eggs, your favorite.” You go around the island and nuzzle into him.

“Thank you baby.” You kiss him on the cheek, then take a bite of the toast. Harry eats some avocado with a little hot sauce and olive oil on top. “Mmm, so tasty.” You lick your lips. “You’re such a good cook, have I ever told you that?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice, but by all means, keep the compliments comin’.” He winks at you.

“You make the best fried eggs I’ve ever had.”

“Go on.”

“And this toast.” You point to it. “Perfectly browned.” You both start giggling. “You know what, I need something to drink. Would you like some coffee?”

“Uh, yeah, please. Can’t believe I forgot about coffee.”

“S’okay, you were busy.” You reach up into your cabinet to grab two mugs. Harry starts choking on his food when he sees you pantieless. You never walked around like that. How did he not notice before? “You okay?” You say, starting up the Keurig.

“Yup, perfectly fine.” It’s not like he hadn’t seen you in the light of day before, but something about you just wearing his shirt, and being so comfortable around him for you to walk around like…it was starting to drive him wild.

You shrug it off, and make both of your coffees. You hand him his with a smile, and he happily takes it. You loved when Harry stayed over. It wasn’t just because it gave you more time to fool around, it was for moments like this. The domestic bliss that you craved as a child. Your home was not a happy one, and now you’ve created one for yourself. The thing is, you were starting to get greedy. You wanted him there more and more. You figured if you two ever decided to move in together, you would need to find a two bedroom apartment. You each would need a place to get work done at home, especially him. Maybe Niall knew of any open places in his building.

“Babe?” Harry breaks you from your day dream.

“Hm?”

“How ‘bout a shower?”

“Good idea.”

You bring your coffee into your bedroom with you and set it on the desk. You grab an elastic, flip your hair over, and put it up in a bun. While doing this Harry can’t keep his eyes off your butt. Without thinking he gave it taut smack. You jump and squeal, rubbing the spot that was sure to leave a bruise. You look up at him confused, and a little annoyed.

“What the hell was that?”

“M’so sorry, it was an accident.” He’s trying to stifle a laugh.

“That’s not funny! That really hurt Harry, Jesus.” You continue to rub your cheek which was still sort of stinging. “I mean you really smacked me, what came over you?”

“It was…there.” He shrugged. “You should really make sure you wear your knickers around me, or stuff like this will just happen.” He walks into your bathroom.

Not taking that for an answer, you watch him bend over to take his boxers off. You wind your hand up, and attempt to smack him as hard has he did you. The sound filled the room, but he didn’t make a noise. He simply stood up straight, and turned around to look at you.

“Sorry, it was just there.” You say in a mocking tone, almost in his accent.

“You know, if you had been bent over a bit more, I could’ve gotten ya right on that little clit of yours. Don’t think you’d be complainin’ then.” He reaches to turn the water on, and crosses his arms.

That was some serious dirty talk that just came from his mouth. He had never really spoken to you like that before. Which Harry was this? You try to wrack your brain around it. Was this another side to your daddy Harry? Or was this a darker Harry? One that wants to spank you until you come.

“So that didn’t even hurt?” You point to the pink spot on his butt.

“Not really, love. Did ya want it to hurt me?”

“I just wanted you to feel what you did to me.” He smirks.

“Didn’t mean to hit ya that hard, promise.” He kisses your nose, and steps into the shower. You strip yourself of his shirt, and climb in behind him.

“Do you like talking like that?” You ask while his head is submerged in the water. He turns to look at you.

“Hm? Like what?”

“What you said a minute ago.” He gives you a confused look, and then he’s struck with realization.

“I don’t really know why I said that. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t…I was just taken off guard.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to stifle my inside thoughts.” He steps aside so you can step into the water. “You know I could get an attachment so this sprays differently, then we wouldn’t have to do this dance every time.” How could he just change the subject so easily?

“Sure, we could go to WalMart or something. Um, so, you think like that often?”

“Why are you so interested all of a sudden?” You weren’t sure exactly.

“Just curious I guess.” You try to shrug it off.

“You can tell me if it was, um, a bit much. It really did just slip out…”

“No, no, it was fine. I just, I don’t know, I didn’t realize you were so erotic?”

“Good word for it I suppose.”

“What word would you use for it?”

“I don’t know, flirting maybe?” You stop and realize that you and Harry never really flirted with each other. Even in the very beginning, it was mostly cute and kind conversations. Then it turned into more sexual moves, but never really flirting. He was also just way more comfortable with you at this point. He figured it would be okay to let it slip once in a while what he was actually thinking and feeling.

In your daze, he grabs a wash cloth and your body wash and starts to scrub himself. He starts wiping up your chest, which snaps you back into reality.

“Need to step into the water, love.” You move aside and watch as the soap falls down his body.

“How do you turn it on and off so easily?”

“What?”

“The way you talk. One second you’re incredibly sweet and thoughtful, another second you’re straight up charming, and another you’re…well saying those other things?” He smirks at you.

“When I saw you bend over to put your hair, and I saw this glorious rump in front of me.” He puts his hands on your butt and gives you a squeeze. “I think all the blood in my body rushed to my dick, and that’s why I said what I said. Plus the fact that you had given me a pretty good smack. It was hot actually, how you just took command of the situation.”

“You didn’t even flinch when I did it.”

“I told ya, it didn’t hurt.”

“How could that have not hurt?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugs. He leans down to your ear. “Didn’t I tell you once before, a while ago, that those little hands of yours wouldn’t be able to hurt me?” A shiver goes up your spine as you remember the first time you really gave his hair a good tug. He straightens himself back up. “All set?”

“Mhm.” He turns the water off. You grab both of your towels, and get out of the shower.

“I have some work to do today, but I brought my laptop with me so I can do it here.”

“Did you want to go back to your place so you can use your big monitor?”

“No, no it’s fine. Just touching up some pictures I took of this couple last week. They’re doing this pregnancy announcement.” You go to your dresser to put on a sports bra and leggings.

“Oh, how sweet!” Harry puts on his dark blue jeans and saunters into the living room, grabbing his laptop bag. You grab your laptop from your desk and join him on the couch. “I have some work I could get done too actually. Days like this are always great for catching up on email.”

“It’s nice that your company gives you the day after off.”

“Yeah, I like working there because of all the benefits we get. They even give us that week off between Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Really? That’s almost unheard of.”

“I think the CEO or whatever really values work-life balance. She really pays attention to the data that shows how to boost productivity and morale with employees. Everyone is happy to get their work done because they know they’ll have the time to relax. I also think she noticed that a lot of people took that week off anyways, so not much was getting done regardless.” You plug your headphones into your laptop, and pull up Spotify.

“What are you doing?”

“I like to listen to music while I work and I don’t want to distract you.” He looks you up and down.

“Not much that can help with that.”

“Says the shirtless guy sitting next to me.” He rolls his eyes at you playfully. “You don’t listen to music while you work?”

“Depends on what I’m working on.” He shrugs. “Do you want to see the photos?”

“Sure!” You lean over so you can see the beautiful pictures Harry took of the couple. It was two women, one of them had a small bump. They both looked overjoyed. The one that wasn’t pregnant was holding up a pumpkin to her belly to match the bump of her partner. “Oh, Harry these are beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“They both look so happy.”

“They were over the moon.” He sighs. “They told me they felt lucky to find me. Some photographers turned them down because they were afraid of having a gay couple’s photos on their website or something. Can you believe that? In this day and age?”

“That’s so sad! How did they find you?”

“Honestly, I think it was Facebook. I made a page for myself that’s attached to my Instagram. I think one of them had a mutual friend with me or they happened to like my page or something. Either way they had seen photos of a previous shoot I did with these two guys, so they reached out.”

“Can I see those? With the guys?”

“Sure, this was actually really fun.” Harry pulls ups his Instagram page and scrolls down a bit. “They wanted to send out engagement announcements. It was pretty cute. I took them out to this trail that had a waterfall behind it.”

“These are stunning.”

“This was a fun day for sure. I think if someone wants their picture taken, they should have them taken.”

“Agreed.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

You put your headphones in and get to work. You get through a dozen or so emails, and open up Adobe Premiere. You work on a video, marketing a website launch. Harry glances to how your hands move as you cut clips together. How you take a moment to close your eyes so you can concentrate on the sounds coming in, to make sure everything is lined up correctly. You finish up your video and set your laptop on the coffee table to let it render. You glance at Harry’s project. He’s making a digital photo book for the couple. He stops to rub his eyes, and sets his laptop on the coffee table.

“Alright, time for a break.” He sighs. He looks at you and smiles. “Get much done?”

“Oh yeah, I’m way ahead for next week. How’d your book come along?”

“I think it’s good. Just need to make some small changes. Almost done though.”

“When do they need it by?”

“Oh, well the pictures are all good to go. The book is just an extra touch from me. I’m going to email them everything tomorrow.” You stand up and stretch.

“Would you wanna go for a walk? Get some steps in?”

“Sure, lemme just throw some joggers on.”

Harry changes into sweatpants and a sweatshirt. You hand him his beanie before you lace up your sneakers.

“It’s a little cold out.” You smile at him as he puts it on.

“Thanks.”

You go for a nice, long walk. You giggle about the funny things Harry noticed about your family.

“We do not yell!” You laugh.

“Yes you do! It was so funny, you and your dad did it first, and then throughout your sister’s house.”

“It’s mostly just when we need each other’s attention. When you have a big house full of six people, it can be hard to get someone to listen to you. What was your house like?”

“Not the biggest, but not the smallest either.” He smiles. “My favorite thing was that we lived next door to this Chinese food place, and every day after school I’d come home, open my window, and take a big whiff.”

“What do you guys usually do for the holidays? Do you go home?”

“Yeah, usually. We just have a small gathering. I try to go home a couple days early so I have some extra time with my mum. I don’t stay there for New Year’s though.”

“That’s nice you’re able to go home. How often are you able to go back?”

“Typically for the holidays, and then I take about two weeks in the summer, sometimes three. My work lets me take pictures out there so I don’t have to use all my vacation time.”

“I feel like Niall does the same thing. Only he has to use his vacation time in the summer.”

“Yeah, he and I usually try to fly out together. When does Hanukkah start?”

“Couple of weeks. I think the week before Christmas this year.”

“How is it determined?”

“The Jewish calendar is lunar.”

“Ohhhh, okay. Does your family get together?”

“Yeah, my great uncle usually has this big party on one of the weekends it’ll fall on. It’s a lot of fun. As kids, we waited until Christmas to do all our presents, but now we just get together for Hanukkah. It’s just easier because now that my brother’s married, and Erica has Mike, no one has to run around on Christmas.”

“So what do you usually do on Christmas if your family doesn’t get together?”

“It’s just another day. One year I went on vacation with the girls, another year I went down to Florida to see Nannie.”

“Hm, interesting.”

He wanted to take the moment to ask you to go to England for Christmas. He wanted to show you around, see where he grew up. Drive you into London for a day, just completely sweep you off your feet. But he knew you wouldn’t let him pay for the ticket. He needed more time.

“What do you say we go out to a movie tonight?” He asks you.

“Sure! Do you want to go to that theater that has the dinner service?”

“Works for me.”

//

You both decide on going to see Knives Out.

“That was fun, it reminded me of Clue.” You say, walking out of the theater.

“I was going to say the same thing! That’s a movie we should watch sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe we could have the crew over for a movie night sometime.” There were a couple of things you just said that made Harry happy. You said we, as in your place was practically your place. The word crew also delighted him. Your friend groups were merging naturally.

“I think that’s a great idea.” He snakes his arm around you. “The night’s still young, feel like goin’ to have a drink?”

“I like the way you think.”

He drives you two to a bar near the theater. You grab a couple of open stools. You order your usual vodka-tonic, and Harry does the same.

“You look cute tonight, by the way.” He says warmly.

“It’s just jeans and a top. Nothing special, babe.”

“Maybe to you.” He winks. “I like when we get to spend this much time together.”

“Me too…you’re not bored or sick of my place?”

“Not at all. It was nice earlier when we were both just workin’, doin’ our own things, but in the same space.”

“I agree.”

“You don’t feel like suffocated with my stuff there, or me there a lot?”

“No way! I like it better when you’re around Harry.” He takes a sip of his drink.

“I wanna run somethin’ by ya, but I’ll be honest, I’ve been a little nervous to ask.” You give him a warm smile, and put your hand on his thigh.

“Don’t be nervous sweetie, what is it?”

“Well, remember earlier when we were talkin’ about holidays?”

“Mhm.”

“Um, well,” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m having such a tough time with this.” He sighs. “I’d love for you to come to England with me for Christmas, (y/n). I want you to meet my mum and sister, I wanna show you around London. And I know that’s a lot to plan in just a few weeks, and you may not feel comfortable taking such a big trip with me yet, but I hope you’ll at least think about it.”

You get up from your stool, and wrap your arms around his neck. You give him a few quick kisses on the cheek and start giggling.

“Harry, I would love to go to England!” You squeal, and sit back down.

“Really?”

“Sure! I’ve always wanted to go, and I of course want to meet your family.”

“I want you to let me pay for the plane tickets.”

“Harry, you know I can’t let you do that.”

“I’m inviting you, so I want to do it. I travel enough that it really won’t cost a lot. I can use my miles.”

“I don’t want you wasting that on me though.”

“S’not a waste. Please, just let me take care of it. At least let me book everything, and then we can discuss the payment later.”

“You said the same thing when we stayed at the inn, and you refused to take my check.” You sigh. “I work, I have a good job, I can afford things. If I let you book these flights, you will let me pay for it. I mean it.” You try to be stern with him, assert yourself a little. He clears his throat.

“I never said that you don’t make any money. It’s not about that. This is about me inviting you somewhere.”

“I just feel like you never let me pay for anything. I appreciate you being a gentleman, but for this kind of trip…”

“Baby girl.” He said it. He knew if he called you that you would immediately give up. You weren’t sure what it was about him calling you that, that made you putty in his hands, but it did.

“I’ll drop it for now, but we’re not done discussing this.” You pout. He leans forward and gives you a soft kiss on the lips.

“How ‘bout another round?”

“Let’s drink at home.” Once again, instead of saying your place, you referred to it as home. Harry’s love for you grew deeper by the second.

“Deal.”

[fanfic-corner]

A-Spec Across Fandoms

23/10/20 - I know I have already done an a-spec post for Destiel fics, but it is asexual awareness week next week, so I thought I’d read a load of fics with ace characters from a few different shows I like! We have some Supernatural, some Doctor Who, some Sherlock, and a couple from Good Omens. Happy ace week!

Supernatural

broken when I’m lonesome by SailorChibi on AO3. (7,015 words).

Tags: Asexual Castiel, Demisexual Dean, Panromantic Castiel, Biromantic Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Has a Sexuality Crisis, Angst, Fluff, Touch-Starved, Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Castiel is Not Oblivious, comments that could be taken as ace-phobic.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: After being saved from hell, Dean's old methods of coping aren't working anymore: he's not sexually attracted to anyone, and he's not interested in sex no matter how many times he climbs into bed with hot, naked women. Sam is convinced that his brother is just depressed, but Dean knows this goes deeper than that. He still craves the intimacy that can make him feel safe. Fortunately, Castiel is there to both understand and provide.

Notes: This fic really hit home. I’m not sure if it is because almost every person I have ever talked to has had some form of this conversation, but it was still cute.

La Vie A Plus by K_K_TiBal on AO3. (6,260 words).

Tags: Punk Castiel, Asexual Castiel, College/Uni AU, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates, College Student Dean, College Student Castiel, Pining, First Kiss, Misunderstandings, Art Student Castiel, Love Confessions, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Tattooed Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester is hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with his best friend and roommate, Castiel. Castiel - with his blue hair, and his tattoos, and his artwork, and his perfect everything. Dean never stood a chance, really. It only sucks because, as far as Dean can tell, Castiel is definitely not interested. But love, much like art, has a way of being unpredictable. Even if you think you know where you're going with it.

Notes: The angst is strong in this one! Again, I feel like many aces have had this conversation or that fear that people (allos, especially) may not want to be with them.

Exposed to What You Hide by SailorChibi on AO3. (1,890 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hunters, Creature Castiel, Procubus Cas, Asexual Castiel, Established Relationship, Hidden Relationship, Assisted Suicide, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: "We think Cas is a procubus," Sam blurted out. Then he winced and yelped when Charlie kicked him under the table. "Ow!" "Smooth, Sam," Charlie snapped. Dean looked back and forth between them, realizing that they were both 100% serious. "A procubus." "Basically it's the sexless version of an incubus or a succubus," Charlie explained before Sam could. "It's... it's a demon that kills people by sleeping with them." She was chewing on her thumbnail now, eyes big and apologetic. Sam had done one better pasting on a truly epic kicked puppy expression of apology. "You think Cas is killing people by cuddling with them," Dean said, just to be sure. 

Notes: Well that took a bit of a turn. I’m not sure why, but I love fics where Cas keeps bees, it was just so cute to see him that happy! (Even if he was crazy. Shut up).

Consolation by Trell on AO3. (1,195 words).

Tags: Aromantic, Aromantic Relationship, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Asexual Character.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: In which both of them are ancient, and neither of them are in love with each other.

Notes: Okay, I would first of all like to say that I do not ship Cas and Ten. I was kind of curious though, and clearly whoever wrote this ships Destiel and Ten/Rose. That being said, I am here for some angst; poor Cas and his unrequited love, and poor Ten because all his friends are dead.

Doctor Who

don’t hold this war inside by WishingTree on AO3. (1,824 words).

Tags: Asexual Yaz, Pre-Relationship, Asexual Character.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “It’s just - I’m scared,” she finally manages. “Scared?” the Doctor stills where she’s been trying to roll up the sleeves of her coat, shoving the material of one arm over her elbow and asking, “Scared of what?” Yaz doesn’t answer, can’t answer, and the Doctor goes to reach for her, aborting the movement halfway and only managing an awkward swaying motion. “...Scared of me?”

Notes: Thasmin is a ship that, had I not stumbled across it on Instagram, would never have thought of on my own. Much like Sabriel, however, now the idea is in my head, I ship it! Also, the author in this fic manages to perfectly capture the Doctor’s personality, which is quite an impressive feat.

Whatever fits my skin by lloydsglasses on AO3. (1,481 words).

Tags: Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Cross-Generational Friendship, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Canon Gay Character, LGBTQ Character, Aromantic, Pride.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “So, does that happen to you a lot?” Bill asks once they’re safely back in the Doctor’s study, each cradling a mug of tea. “Getting snogged by gorgeous women as a thanks for saving their lives.” The Doctor sets his teacup down gently on the desk, mouth pursing in distaste. “Far more often than I’d like.”

Notes: Oh my god that was so (fucking) cute! Now I want more fics of characters going to pride. Maybe for next June. Also, I’m just saying that I hated Nardole and nothing you can say to me will make me change my mind.

Take It, Leave It (But you’d better believe it) by lloydsglasses on AO3. (760 words).

Tags: Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Cross-Generational Friendship, Asexual Character. Aromantic, Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: “I told my foster mum that I’m gay. Now she keeps trying to set me up with guys." 

“Ah,” says the Doctor, with a frown. “That seems… counterintuitive.”

Notes: I’ve always loved Bill and Twelve’s relationship, and this is such a cute scene! It is a crime we haven’t got more River Song content, by the way.

Crescendo by tenscupcake on AO3. (6,013 words).

Tags: Fluff, Asexual Character, Romance.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: As her relationship with the Doctor slowly develops into something a little more than friendship, Rose starts to wonder what's holding him back. But one fateful night, he confesses something that makes her realize she never had any reason to worry.

Notes: Beautifully written! I don’t think I’ve ever read a Ten/Rose fic before, but I have always shipped it and it is adorable.

Sherlock

The Important Bit by Solshine on AO3. (9,984 words).

Tags: Asexual Sherlock, Platonic Relationship, Amarriage, Same-Sex Marriage, Bromance, Domestic.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Just where exactly is the line between “to love” and “to be in love”? What difference is required between “flatmate” and “husband”? (Besides the rings, obviously.) No, the important bit is that they have each other. Thirty years, give or take, in an atypical marriage. Basically a long bit of platonic domestic fluff.

Notes: Oh, this is absolutely one of my favourite Johnlock fics now. Absolutely adorable (because I love domestic Johnlock okay), I nearly cried, and now I want all the art of Sherlock with a fancy old cane!

the art of getting by (isn’t really so artsy at all) by stupidmuse_hatesme on AO3. (6,521 words).

Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Character, Asexual Sherlock, Romance, First Time, First Date, Slash.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: “He's treating things like they're normal! Things are not normal.” Sherlock drags his hands from his mussed up hair and covers his face. “You aren't helping much,” he mumbles into his palms. “I hope you know that.” The skull only grins from his perch and says not a word. “Really, you're supposed to do more than just--sit there.”

Notes: John is so unbelievably sweet in this, but Sherlock was bit OOC.

what does the world get by coloredink on AO3. (2,302 words).

Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Sherlock, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: A women's magazine quiz leads Sherlock to investigate the nature of love.

Notes: A cute lil’ fic about exploring your (in this case, lack of) romantic and sexual attraction.

Surprisingly Simple by heeroluva on AO3. (855 words).

Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, First Kiss, Touching, Fluff, Cuddling and Snuggling. My Rating: 3 stars. Description: In which John is asexual, and Sherlock never asks. Notes: Pretty cute, and it is always nice to see a character who is just cool with it, without some massive explanation. I can dream.

Good Omens

An Honest Surrender by Kedreeva on AO3. (4,107 words).

Tags: Ineffable Husbands, Post-Apocalypse, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, First Kiss, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soulmates, Soul Bond, Aziraphale’s True Form, Crowley’s True Form, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: "For six thousand years," Crowley said, voice cracking, "I have wanted something I couldn't have, because I asked the wrong questions. But I'm asking the right one now. The only one that matters." In which Aziraphale follows Crowley home after the nonpocalypse.

Notes: Seriously, reading Good Omens fics always makes me so relaxed and sleepy it is unreal. I need to read them more often. Anyway, this is such a cute explanation for the final episode, and I loved it!

You’re the Only Prayer I Need by Kedreeva on AO3. (5,507 words).

Tags: Ineffable Husbands, Wingfic, Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Relationship, Wing Grooming, Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Asexual Relationship, Snake Crowley, Love Confessions, Trust, Non-Sexual Intimacy.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Crowley had, in the six thousand years Aziraphale had known him, shed his skin exactly twice that Aziraphale knew of. Both times he had disappeared without a trace, having retreated somewhere very safe and very, very unknown to hide while he was so vulnerable, and Aziraphale had never thought to ask beyond that information. Everyone was, he had supposed at the time, entitled to their secrets. The problem was that he had stumbled directly into this secret now, and there was hardly a graceful way out of it.

Notes: The sheer level of trust is adorable, and I’m always here for snake Crowley.

A Little Less Celestial by Kedreeva on AO3. (2,360 words).

Tags: Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual, Sharing a Bed, Ineffable Husbands, Literal Sleeping Together, Wingfic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Aziraphale accidentally falls asleep, and Crowley teaches him sleeping isn't so bad, really.

Notes: Oh my God, this was so calming to read in a way I really can’t describe? Also, now I want a bookshelf bed.

Just One Yesterday by Kedreeva on AO3. (1,952 words).

Tags: True Form Crowley, True Form Aziraphale, Ineffable Husbands, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Post-Apocalypse, Time Travel, Time Loop, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Missing Scene.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Crowley and Aziraphale didn't stop the apocalypse on the first try, but you know what they say... try, try again.

Notes: I could not tell you the plot of this, but that image of Crowley’s true form was beautiful (and the artwork was phenomenal!).

So, there we have it! I hope you enjoy them, and have a nice week. By the way, if you have instagram, please would you consider following @justaceofficial? They are trying to get funding for a TV series which focuses on an asexual main character, and they ran an asexual advent running up to this week!