#stream in pieces <333

[driptape]

𝐑𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 , 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 & 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 @ 𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘's album release party for in pieces .

via chloe's instagram story ( chloebailey )

[astraystayyh]

minho x gn!reader. hurt/comfort. reader used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho. for u my @rachalixie <333

it is a regular sunday afternoon, filled with all the chores you procrastinated for the end of the week. you're halfway through a batch of fresh laundry, when your eyes find Minho- he's fiddling with a pair of your pink socks, completely engrossed in a trashy sitcom playing on your TV. a bowl of fruit sits between you two, one he meticulously peeled because he knows you don't like the fruits' skin.

your hands go limp as you observe minho, who places your socks down before blindly grabbing one of your t-shirts. he carefully folds it in half, smoothing away its creases because he knows you like perfectly folded clothes, neat and tidy.

a lump materializes in your throat as minho quietly chuckles at the TV, your mind not on the sitcom but on the man folding laundry beside you.

in that moment, a sudden light penetrates the shadowed parts of your mind, ones you've left uncharted for too long, fearing what you'll find hiding in their darkness. instead, you discover a flourishing garden, watered by minho's attentions everytime he's near.

the realization dawns on you suddenly, yet gently, like an unexpected kiss gracing your forehead, a hand grabbing your own when you least anticipate it— you haven't felt lonely in so long.

you couldn't feel lonely on a sunday morning when minho woke with you, willingly giving up on sleep so you could make breakfast together. you couldn't feel lonely when he propped his chin on your shoulder as you scrambled the eggs on the stove, his cold hands sneaking underneath your shirt, a gentle kiss on your neck to compensate his chilling touch.

loneliesss couldn't loom in the supermarket's aisles when minho pushed the cart near you, whining when you didn't give him attention for too long. you couldn't feel lonely as minho helped you pack up the groceries into your car, before caging you against the door, planting a short, but fervent kiss on your lips.

loneliness doesn't cast its shadows on your home when minho helped you clean it, washing the dishes as you diligently swept every counter. you couldn't feel lonely when he suddenly pulled your hand before waltzing around to the soft hums escaping his lips.

loneliness is a stranger when minho folds your laundry, some pieces of his clothing sneaking into your closet. you aren't lonely when minho lives with you, throughout your extraordinary days and your most mundane, boring ones.

a sniffle leaves your lips before you can stop it, and minho's head snaps instinctively to yours, worry drawn onto his face as he furiously racks over your figure. you don't even know where the tears are coming from, but they are streaming furiously down your cheeks, showing no sign of stopping soon.

"baby," he calls out tentatively, putting the fruit bowl on the table and moving closer to you. "what's wrong?" he asks and you straddle his lap, burying your face onto the crook of his neck instead of replying.

you aren't lonely when minho pats your back, rubbing soothing motions on it from the crown of your hair down the end of your spine. you aren't lonely because minho spoke to your loneliness, gently, patiently, until he finally convinced it to desert your bones.

"i love you," you whisper against his skin and he pulls you slightly away, his hands tenderly cradling your face. "i love you. what happened?"

"it's silly and stupid," you mumble, looking down at his lap. he gently hooks a finger beneath your chin, urging you to look at him.

"nothing that makes you cry is stupid. tell me, hm?"

"you help me fold my socks," you say, lower lip slightly quivering. "and clean the house and get my groceries."

"do you not want me to?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

"no, no. i just can't believe you'd want to."

"why is that?" he inquires, gently wiping your still cascading tears.

"because those are things i used to do alone. i... i never thought I'd have someone with me, by my side, every day," you pause, tears doubling over at your impending confession. "i never thought that one day i would no longer be lonely."

minho's eyes soften incredibly, the way your heart turns into mush in his hands. he silently brings your head to his chest, your cheek pressed right above his heartbeat, and then he sways from left to right, body pressed tightly to yours.

"i'm here now. it's okay, angel, it's over," he whispers, planting a lingering kiss on the top of your head. you clutch his shirt tightly between your fists, allowing his words to permeate your being. to dust every misguided idea you held about your future.

you won't be lonely when minho loves you.

"you know i want to marry you, right? so i plan on folding your laundry for a long long time. under one rule, though."

"what?" you ask with a small voice.

"you won't cry next time i fold your clothes."

"shut up," you pinch his side playfully and he giggles before tickling you in retaliation. your laughter fills the air, quieting down the sound of your tv and simultaneously, all the ugly thoughts that once occupied your head.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Needy

Summary: Spencer is touch starved.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut, fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+), porn with little plot, additional warnings undercut, sub!spencer, slight dom!reader, crying

Word count: 8k

a/n: for @kameowwww hope i did you good <333 this is the idea

this is like straight up porn so

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (f&m receiving), PinV sex unprotected (wrap it before you tap it), voyerism, masturbation (f), vibrator (f), orgasm denial, overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics

Spencer Reid had always been a man of intellect, preferring the quiet solace of books over the chaos of human interaction. He never quite understood the appeal of constant physical affection until he met you. Before you, his life was a series of equations and logical deductions, but you brought something new to the table—warmth, comfort, and a touch that ignited something deep within him. Now that he had tasted that sweetness, he found himself utterly addicted. He couldn't imagine going back to the way things were before you.

The two of you had been dating for quite some time now, and Spencer had grown accustomed to the constant stream of affection you showered upon him. It wasn’t just the emotional warmth that he relished but the physical connection as well. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin was electrifying, each touch sending a shiver down his spine that lingered long after your hand had moved on. He adored the way you would pull him into a hug for no reason other than to feel his presence against you, your bodies fitting together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle.

When you kissed him, your lips soft and inviting, Spencer would lose himself in the moment, his mind quieting as all he could focus on was the sensation of you. The way your hands would slide up his chest, lingering at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, made his heart race with a fervor he had never known before. It was a sensation he couldn’t quite articulate, this melding of souls and skin that made him feel so alive, so desired.

The intimacy extended to the most mundane of routines—the way your hands lingered a little longer on his back as you parted ways in the morning, your fingers tracing small circles that left his skin tingling in their wake. Your touch was intoxicating, a sweet addiction that he eagerly anticipated each day. It was as if you had created a secret language of touch, a series of unspoken words that only the two of you understood, a language that spoke of love, trust, and an undeniable connection.

But now, he was miserable. Absolutely miserable.

Spencer had been shot in the leg during a case gone awry. The doctors said he couldn't fly for a while, which meant he was stuck back in D.C. while you and the rest of the team were off on another case. This separation was a special kind of torment, one that gnawed at him with every passing hour.

He found himself staring at his phone, the digital clock mocking him as the minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness. It felt like time had slowed down since you left. No, it felt like time had stopped altogether. Spencer found himself yearning for the sound of your voice, the feel of your skin against his, the comfort of your presence. He missed you more than he could put into words, more than he had ever thought possible.

Every hour, like clockwork, he sent you a text. His messages ranged from sweet to downright needy, each one a reflection of his growing desperation:

9:00 AM: I miss you so much already. I can't wait for you to come back.

10:00 AM: Just had breakfast, and it's not the same without you. Miss you.

11:00 AM: I keep staring at our picture on my desk. It makes me smile and want to cry at the same time.

12:00 PM: I'm thinking about you. Are you thinking about me too?

1:00 PM: I miss you so much it hurts. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.

2:00 PM: I’m hard... It's so embarrassing. Do you think I should touch myself?

3:00 PM: I love you. I miss you. I need you. Please come home soon.

He knew he was being pathetic, absolutely pitiful, even. Spencer Reid, BAU genius, reduced to a lovesick fool who couldn't even go a day without hearing from you. It was embarrassing, really. But he couldn't help himself; his emotions were a whirlwind, and you were the eye of the storm—the calm he so desperately sought.

He knew you were busy, embroiled in the intricacies of the case, piecing together the psychological profiles that would lead the team to the unsub. He respected that, understood it more than anyone. Still, the emptiness of your absence gnawed at him, clawing at his insides until he felt like he was going mad.

As night fell, he lay sprawled on his bed, his phone clutched in his hand like a lifeline. The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds. Shadows danced across the ceiling, and he imagined your silhouette beside him, tracing the curves of your body with his eyes, feeling the warmth of your presence.

And then, finally, his phone buzzed with the notification he had been waiting for—your nightly call. Spencer's heart leaped at the sight of your name flashing on the screen. He scrambled to answer, almost dropping the phone in his haste.

“Hey,” he breathed, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He wanted to sound confident, but the anticipation of hearing your voice made it hard to keep his composure.

“Hi,” you replied, but your tone was laced with a hint of annoyance that made Spencer wince. “How was your day?”

Spencer hesitated, searching for the right words. “How—how was your day?” he repeated nervously, trying to ease the tension he sensed from you.

You sighed, the sound echoing through the line. “Other than my phone going off every two seconds, it was fine.”

His heart sank, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling the weight of his own neediness pressing down on him.

“What did we talk about?” Your voice was firm, demanding an answer he was struggling to find.

“I don’t—I don’t remember,” he mumbled, the words tumbling out of him in a pathetic attempt to buy himself time.

“Don’t play dumb, baby,” you said, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “Put that eidetic memory to work. Tell me right now, or your ass will be so red when I get back.”

Spencer squeaked at the imagery, feeling his face heat up at the thought. His mind raced as he tried to recall the conversation, panic mixing with a strange thrill at your words. “Okay! You said… not to text you unless it was important, that you’d call me when you’re in the hotel,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s right, my smart boy,” you said, and he could hear the smile in your voice now. “You need to be patient, Spence. I know you miss me, and I miss you too, but we agreed on this for a reason.”

Spencer nodded, even though you couldn’t see him, his heart aching with a longing that was both painful and sweet. “I know,” he murmured, feeling the tension in his body ease as he listened to your voice, the gentle reprimand laced with affection. “I just… I miss you so much.”

“I know, baby,” you soothed, your voice like a balm to his frayed nerves. “And I promise, when I get back, we’ll make up for lost time.”

—

As soon as you set foot in your shared apartment, Spencer was up and running from his spot in the reading chair, the book he had been pretending to read for the past hour forgotten. He practically threw himself at you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, his face burying in your neck as he breathed in the scent that was just so—you. It was as if he couldn’t get close enough, as if he wanted to meld into you completely, the relief of having you back washing over him like a tidal wave.

“Hi, baby,” you laughed softly, your arms encircling him as you returned the embrace, feeling his neediness and desperation in the way he clung to you.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured against your skin, his voice tinged with an aching vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings.

“I missed you too,” you replied, your fingers gently threading through his hair, offering him the comfort and reassurance he craved.

Spencer’s body was pressed tightly against yours, and you could feel him start to wiggle, subtly at first, as if testing the waters. But soon his movements became more insistent, his hips grinding against you in a desperate attempt to find some relief for the neglected erection that had been tormenting him during your absence.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow as you caught the sheepish expression on his face.

“...nothing,” he mumbled, his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink as he averted his gaze, suddenly finding the floor incredibly interesting.

You pushed him off gently, taking a step back to give yourself some space. Spencer’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down at his hands, the sting of embarrassment and rejection written all over his face. 

“I just walked in the door, and you’re already trying to hump me like a bitch in heat?” you chided, your tone firm but not unkind. It was clear he had been waiting for this moment, stewing in his own need and desperation, and you couldn’t help but find his pathetic eagerness endearing.

Spencer glanced up at you, his eyes wide and pleading, the blush on his cheeks deepening. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice small, shame and longing swirling in his chest.

You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I think you need to learn some patience, Spence,” you said, your voice dropping to a husky murmur that made his heart race. “But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’m going to take care of you. Just not until I’m ready. Understand?”

He nodded, his breath hitching at the promise in your words, his anticipation building as he realized he’d have to wait a little longer to get what he so desperately craved.

“Good,” you said, reaching out to gently tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Why don’t you make us some tea while I get settled? Then we can see about that little problem of yours.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, the submissive role coming naturally to him as he eagerly turned toward the kitchen, his heart racing with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction at how easily he fell into place, his neediness a palpable presence in the room. It was a dance the two of you had perfected over time, a delicate balance of power and trust that left you both feeling fulfilled and connected in a way that was beyond words. 

Once you were settled, you called him back to you. He returned with a tray, the tea carefully prepared, his hands slightly trembling as he set it down on the table. He looked at you expectantly, hope and trepidation in his eyes, waiting for your next move.

“Come here, Spencer,” you said softly, patting the spot next to you on the couch.

He obeyed immediately, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours, his body taut with anticipation. You reached out, your hand finding his, your touch gentle yet commanding, a silent reminder of who was in charge.

“Are you ready to be a good boy for me?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice quivering with eagerness, his eyes shining with a mixture of adoration and need.

"Good," you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, a promise of what was to come, the warmth of your breath mingling with his. Spencer’s heart soared at the touch, his whole body tingling with anticipation. He tried to press into you further, reaching for your hips to pull you into his lap, yearning for more contact, more of you. But before he could make his move, you slapped his hands away and pulled back.

Dazed, he looked at you with wide puppy eyes, his expression portaying confusion and longing. "What?" he asked softly, his voice laced with desperation.

"I need you to do something for me, baby. Can you do that?" you asked, your voice a silky command that sent shivers down his spine.

Spencer nodded so fast he resembled a bobblehead, eager to please, to do whatever you asked of him. His eyes were filled with unwavering devotion, the need to be good for you evident in every fiber of his being.

"Good boy…" You praised him, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you stood up, walking toward the bedroom with a sway in your hips that was both enticing and authoritative. Spencer eagerly followed you, his heart pounding in his chest as he anticipated what was to come.

When you reached the bedroom, you pointed to the chair in the corner, your eyes never leaving his. "Sit down," you instructed, your voice firm yet gentle.

Spencer reluctantly took a seat, his mind racing. This wasn’t usually how things went, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty mingling with his excitement. "Babe?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice as he tried to understand your plan.

"Shhh… Can you be quiet for me?" you asked, your tone soothing yet commanding, and he nodded again, eager to comply.

He watched as you moved around the room with purpose, his eyes following your every step. His anticipation grew with each passing moment, the air between you charged with a tension that was both electrifying and maddening. Spencer sat on the edge of the chair, his hands gripping the armrests as he tried to contain his eagerness, his heart beating a frenzied rhythm in his chest.

He was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, the urge to touch you warring with the need to obey, to be the good boy you wanted him to be. He knew he had to trust you, to let go of his own desires and surrender to the moment, to the pleasure you promised.

You glanced over at him, your eyes meeting his, and the look you gave him was filled with a promise that made his pulse race. He could feel his resolve wavering, the need to reach out and pull you close overwhelming. But he held himself back, knowing that your control over him was part of what made this so exhilarating, so intoxicating.

Spencer took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to let go of his own wants and needs, and focus solely on you, on the sexual tension, on the connection that bound you together. He was yours, and he knew that this moment would be worth every agonizing second of waiting.

Once you finished collecting the items you needed, you walked just close enough to Spencer that he couldn't touch you and began to strip. Spencer slowly realized he was being punished, as undressing you was one of his favorite things to do, whether or not it was sexual in nature. He loved the sensation of removing each piece, the anticipation that built with every button undone and every zipper pulled. It was an intimate act that spoke of trust and desire, something that made him feel closer to you than anything else.

He whimpered from his seat in the chair, gripping the arms tightly. His fingers dug into the fabric, struggling to maintain his composure as he watched you, every muscle in his body tense with longing. You continued until you were bare, your skin glowing with a confidence that made his heart skip a beat. You winked at him, teasing him with the promise of what was to come, before walking back to the bed and climbing on with a graceful ease that left him breathless.

Spencer wanted to talk, to plead, to explain himself, but he didn't want his punishment to get worse. He was caught between his desire to be good and his desperation for relief. So he did the only thing he could think of—he raised his hand, a silent request for permission to speak, his eyes wide and imploring.

You laughed softly, the sound wrapping around him like a caress. "Yes, baby? You can talk," you said, your tone both gentle and authoritative, holding the power to both soothe and command.

"Am I being punished?" Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

"Yes, smart boy. You are," you replied, watching him with a steady gaze, your words firm but laced with affection.

"Why?" He ventured the question, a tentative exploration of his transgressions.

"Why do you think?" you asked, challenging him to delve into his own behavior, to understand the reasons behind his current predicament.

Spencer thought as much as he could in his state, his mind swirling with a chaotic mix of emotions. "Um, is it, uh, because I touched myself?" he ventured hesitantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Well, I didn’t know about that, but thank you for telling me," you said, your lips curling into a sly smile as you watched Spencer's entire face fall, realizing he had just outed himself.

"Try again, Spence," you prompted, giving him another chance to find the true answer.

"Because I, I texted you too much?" he guessed, his voice small and contrite, like a child admitting to a misdeed.

"Good job, baby boy. You're done talking now," you confirmed, acknowledging his confession. "Now you get to watch."

With that, you pulled out your favorite toy, the bane of Spencer's existence, to pleasure yourself. It was a delicious torment, a visual feast designed to both punish and tantalize, to teach him the value of patience and obedience.

Spencer watched, his breath hitching as you began to rub the vibrator on your clit, the sight both mesmerizing and agonizing. He was captivated by the way you moved, the way you seemed so utterly in control, the way you drew out your own pleasure with an ease that left him reeling.

Spencer's eyes never left you, drinking in every detail, every gasp and moan, every shiver of your body as you pleasured yourself. His need was growing exponentially, a desperate ache that throbbed in time with his racing heart, a longing that was both exquisite and unbearable. Every fiber of his being was attuned to you, yearning for your touch, your approval, your love.

You were a vision of temptation, a goddess in your own right, and Spencer was helpless to do anything but watch, his hands gripping the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the frustration and desire bubbling over into soft whimpers and pleas that slipped from his lips despite his best efforts to remain silent.

The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, a symphony that played just for him, a reminder of the power you held over him. Each sound, each movement was a sweet torture, intensifying his need until it was a tangible force, pressing down on him with relentless intensity. He felt a sob rise in his throat, a sound of both yearning and surrender.

"Please," he whispered, the word escaping him before he could stop it, his voice cracking with emotion.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile that made his heart skip a beat. "No talking, remember?" you reminded him gently, your voice a sultry command that sent shivers down his spine.

Spencer nodded, biting his lip to stifle the whine that threatened to spill forth. Tears slipped down his cheeks, hot and unbidden, as he struggled to keep himself in check, the battle between obedience and desperation waging a fierce war within him.

Even though he was being punished, he knew that this was part of what made your relationship so special, so unique—a delicate balance of dominance and submission that left him feeling more alive than he had ever thought possible. The act of surrender, of giving himself over to you completely, was a heady sensation, one that filled him with a profound sense of belonging.

However, as you entered your core with the toy, Spencer let out a heart-wrenching sob, the sound filled with raw emotion. It was a sound that spoke of betrayal and longing, a testament to the war inside him. That should be him! He couldn’t help the tears that fell, his feelings a torrent that he couldn’t control. You didn’t chide him for that noise, knowing that he couldn’t hold back from that much. It was a moment of vulnerability that made your heart swell with empathy and power, seeing just how deeply he felt, how completely he had surrendered to you.

The vibrator in your hand whirred quietly as you reached your own peak, and then you turned it off, the room descending into a hushed silence as you calmed your breathing, your chest rising and falling as you regained your composure. You climbed off the bed, your movements fluid and deliberate, each step a reminder of the control you held.

You walked over to Spencer, who was still sitting in the chair, a picture of longing and obedience, his eyes glistening with both shed and unshed tears. You offered him your hand, a gesture of both forgiveness and invitation, a silent promise that the moment of his punishment was over.

Spencer took your hand immediately, rising from the chair with a quiet eagerness that spoke volumes about his desire to please you, to earn back your favor. His obedience was at an all-time high, each movement careful and deliberate, as if he were afraid of making a misstep.

“You did so good, baby. It’s over, okay?” you murmured softly, your voice soothing as you reached up to gently wipe away the remnants of his tears. Your touch was tender, an unspoken reassurance that filled the space between you with warmth and affection.

He nodded, sniffling slightly, fresh tears running over the ones already dried on his cheeks. The vulnerability in his eyes tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him so open, so trusting.

“Do you want your reward?” you asked, your tone teasing yet filled with genuine affection, knowing that he had earned the comfort and love that only you could provide.

“Yes, please,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing, the need for your touch evident in every word. His eyes met yours, filled with a hopeful longing that made your heart skip a beat, a promise that he would do anything to stay in this moment with you.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a promise of the reward that awaited him, a sweet culmination of all his patience and obedience. Spencer melted into you, his body relaxing as the tension ebbed away, replaced by the soothing balm of your touch.

With a soft smile, you led him to the bed, guiding him with a tenderness that spoke of love and understanding, ready to give him everything he had been waiting for, ready to show him just how much he meant to you. 

"Okay, baby, it's your choice first. What do you want?" you asked, a gentle encouragement in your voice as you gave Spencer the rare opportunity to express his desires. It was a gesture of trust and affection, a way to show him that his needs were important to you, even within the dynamic you shared.

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected freedom you offered him. He almost never had any sort of control in the bedroom, and the sudden responsibility of choosing what he wanted was both exhilarating and daunting. His mind raced, a kaleidoscope of possibilities flashing through his thoughts as he considered his options.

"Uh, um," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and excitement, "can you, um, lay down?"

"Sure, Spence," you laughed softly, the sound warm and inviting as you moved to accommodate his request.

Once you were laying on your back, your body a canvas of curves and soft skin, Spencer crawled between your legs, his eyes drawn to the glistening slick that beckoned to him. The evidence of what you had done was a siren call, screaming at him to reclaim you, to remind himself of who you belonged to just as much as he did.

Wordlessly, he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin as he positioned himself with reverent care. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with awe and adoration, before he licked your core from base to crest, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire being, making you moan in response.

His touch was gentle yet insistent, his movements guided by a deep-seated desire to please you, to erase the distance that had been between you and replace it with something more profound. As his tongue worked its magic, he focused on every reaction, every gasp and shiver, adjusting his actions to draw out your pleasure in waves that washed over you.

You felt your body responding to his touch, a symphony of sensations that built steadily, the connection between you deepening with every pass of his tongue against your clit. It was a dance of devotion and need, a testament to the trust you had built together, and the love that underpinned every moment of your shared intimacy.

Spencer’s hands gripped your thighs, steadying himself as he delved deeper into the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the taste and scent of you, the soft sounds of your moans spurring him on. He was utterly consumed by his task, lost in the rhythm of your responses, the symphony of your pleasure, a song he never tired of hearing.

As he continued, you felt the tension in your body coil tighter, the anticipation building with every passing second. Spencer was relentless in his devotion, his tongue and lips moving in a rhythm that threatened to send you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming, a rising crescendo of pleasure that filled every corner of your being.

But you didn’t want to finish just yet. You wanted to savor the moment, to draw out the exquisite tension that lingered between you. With a gentle but firm push, you moved Spencer away before it was too late, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you fought to regain control.

Spencer looked up at you, confusion and distress clouding his eyes. He immediately started tearing up again, a wave of insecurity washing over him as he tried to make sense of the situation. He blinked rapidly, his voice breaking with emotion as he tried to understand what he had done wrong.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he babbled, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic rush. “Please let me try again, I’ll do better, I promise, please, just–”

“Whoa, baby, slow down,” you interrupted gently, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide and searching yours for reassurance. You could see the emotions swirling within him, a cocktail of desperation, fear, and hope that tugged at your heart.

“You did nothing wrong, Spence,” you assured him softly, your voice a calming balm that soothed the jagged edges of his anxiety. “I just didn’t want to come yet. You were doing so well, baby.”

He sniffled, his lower lip quivering slightly as he processed your words, relief flooding his system like a tidal wave. The tension in his shoulders eased, replaced by a tentative hope that he hadn’t disappointed you.

“Really?” he asked, his voice small and unsure, as if he were afraid to believe it.

"Really,” you confirmed with a warm smile, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. “You were amazing, Spencer. I just wanted to take care of you first, okay?”

“Oh,” Spencer blushed, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink as he tried to hide his face in your hands. He was such a giver that sometimes he forgot you liked to give too. The thought of you wanting to focus on his pleasure made his heart race with excitement and gratitude.

“Can I touch you, baby?” you asked softly, your voice laced with affection and a hint of playful intent.

“Mhm,” he nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with anticipation as he gave you his permission.

You switched positions, guiding Spencer to lay down on the bed, his body stretched out beneath you like a beautiful canvas. He watched with wide eyes as you climbed over his legs, your movements graceful and deliberate. You began to mouth along his adorable tummy, placing gentle kisses that made him giggle and squirm beneath you.

“Stop it, that tickles!” he laughed, his voice a joyful melody that filled the room. He tried to keep still, but his body naturally reacted to your teasing touches, causing his muscles to twitch and shift under your lips.

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection at the sight of his genuine happiness. “Keep still,” you instructed playfully, your tone both loving and commanding, a mix that Spencer found utterly irresistible.

“I’ll try,” Spencer promised, his voice a bit shaky as he fought to obey your command. His eyes were wide, filled with a combination of anticipation and delight as he felt your lips continue their journey across his skin.

As you licked down his sparse trail of hair, you felt his body respond, muscles tensing beneath your tongue. He took a deep, steadying breath, the sound still a bit shaky, but he was doing better, finding his center amidst the flurry of sensations.

“Okay, Spence?” you asked, pausing to look up at him, ensuring he was comfortable and at ease.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied, his voice a little breathless but filled with warmth and trust. He couldn’t help the happy tears that welled up in his eyes, the emotion of the moment washing over him in waves. The feeling of being so cared for, so cherished, made him feel safe and loved in a way that was almost overwhelming.

“Okay,” you murmured, a note of reassurance in your voice, before you took him into your mouth, your movements deliberate and precise, a dance of intimacy that you had both perfected over time.

“Oh my god!” he cried, his voice a mixture of surprise and ecstasy, his head falling back against the pillow as the pleasure washed over him in waves. The sensation was almost too much, too intense, and he let out a series of whimpering cries, unable to hold back the sounds that escaped his lips.

Tears slipped down his cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed as he gave in to the sensations coursing through him. The feeling of your mouth wrapped around him was almost too much to bear, a pleasure so profound that it bordered on pain, he had been on edge for so long. He was lost in the moment, caught in a web of need and longing, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

“Please, please,” he begged, his voice hitching with each word. He could feel the tears spilling over, a combination of joy and desperation that he couldn’t contain. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

You smiled softly, knowing that you had him right where you wanted him. His voice was a beautiful swirl of whines and pleas, a testament to the depth of his need and the power you held over him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you cooed, your voice a soothing balm that eased the tension in his body, even as the sensations continued to build. “Just relax and let go, okay?”

Spencer nodded, his head moving in jerky motions as he tried to follow your command. His body trembled with the effort of holding himself together, of staying still under the onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. His hands clutched at the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort of maintaining control.

“I’m trying,” he whimpered, his voice cracking with emotion. “It just feels so good, I can’t—oh god, please!”

The tears flowed freely now, his cheeks wet with the evidence of his vulnerability. But he didn’t care, didn’t try to hold back the emotion that spilled over, knowing that he was safe here, that he was loved and cherished and understood. Every tear was a testament to the depth of his trust in you, to the surrender that came so naturally when he was with you.

As you licked and sucked his cock, Spencer felt himself go a little bit more insane. The sensations were overwhelming, each touch a bolt of electricity that shot through him, igniting every nerve ending with exquisite pleasure. When your tongue traced the ridge along his head, he thought he died and ascended to a higher being, the world around him fading away until there was nothing but you and the bliss you were giving him.

His body trembled beneath you, his muscles tensing and relaxing in a dance of ecstasy that left him breathless. Every stoke of your tongue was a sweet torture, a reminder of just how much he needed you. He felt like he was on the edge of something monumental, something that would shatter him and remake him all at once.

No longer able to hold his release any longer, Spencer began to babble again, the words spilling from his lips in a torrent of need and desperation.

“Oh, I’m going to come, please. Ohhh… please, can I come? I’ve been so good. Please!” he pleaded, his voice full of whimpers and cries, the emotion raw and unfiltered.

His eyes met yours, wide and imploring, filled with a desperate need for permission, for your blessing. His chest heaved with each breath, his body straining against the pleasure that threatened to consume him, to pull him under into a sea of bliss that he both feared and longed for.

“Please,” he begged again, the tears continuing to flow, each one a sign of his vulnerability, his surrender.

You paused for a moment, allowing the tension to build even further, your eyes locking with his, your expression both tender and commanding. The power you held over him was intoxicating, a heady mix of dominance and love that left you both breathless.

“Not yet, Spence,” you murmured softly, your voice a soothing balm that both calmed and ignited him, a promise of what was to come. “Just a little longer, okay? You can do it.”

Spencer let out a low whine, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, of obeying your command even as every fiber of his being screamed for release. But he nodded, his eyes shining with desperation and devotion, his heart full to bursting with the love he felt for you.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice a shaky breath that carried with it all the emotion of the moment, all the trust and need and longing that filled him to overflowing. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

He bit his lip, his body a taut line of tension and anticipation, every nerve ending alive with sensation as he held himself back. His mind was a whirl of pleasure, need, and love. It was a beautiful agony, a sweet torment that left him on the edge of everything, ready to fall into the abyss of bliss that awaited him. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of how close he was to the release he so desperately craved.

“Good boy,” you praised, your voice a melodic promise that resonated deep within him, and then you mouthed along his balls, your movements calculated to push him to his very limits.

The sensation was too much, the culmination of everything you had built together. Spencer’s control shattered, and he felt himself tipping over the edge, the world narrowing to a single point of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Spencer shouted, his voice carrying apology and ecstasy, as he came, the force of his release catching him by surprise, his body shuddering with the intensity of it.

His release hit you in unexpected places, getting his come in your hair and on your face, the aftermath of his pleasure painting a vivid picture of the depth of his release. 

You couldn't help but laugh softly, your eyes shining with amusement and affection as you took in his apologetic expression, the mix of embarrassment and satisfaction on his face endearing him to you even more.

“It’s okay, Spence,” you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing as you reached up to wipe the sticky substance from your skin. “You just owe me one.”

“What…?” Spencer asked in a daze of post-orgasmic bliss, his mind still spinning from the intensity of the experience. His breath came in shallow gasps, and he felt as if he were floating, weightless and free, in the aftermath of the ecstasy you had given him.

“I said,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his thigh in a gentle kiss that sent shivers down his spine, “you owe me one.”

“Oh,” he replied, his eyes widening slightly. He was slightly scared at the prospect of what was to come, knowing that your idea of a reward was often as intense as it was pleasurable. But beneath that fear lay a bubbling excitement, a thrill at the thought of pleasing you, of being able to return the gift you had given him. 

“Think you can handle it?” you teased, your voice a holding challenge and affection as you watched the emotions play out across his face.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, his answer immediate and earnest, his eagerness clear in his wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Okay, baby,” you chuckled, a playful light in your eyes as you shifted to climb on top of him. Your movements were graceful and confident, a display of the control you wielded with such ease. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a charged electricity that wrapped around you both as you prepared to take him on another journey of pleasure.

You grabbed his soft shaft, your fingers gentle yet firm as you worked him in your hand, your touch a combination of care and precision that drew Spencer further into your spell. The sensations were overwhelming, a cascade of stimulation that left him breathless and trembling beneath you.

As you moved, Spencer writhed and whined in overstimulation, his body a live wire of sensation that sparked with every touch. The overstimulation sent him into a dizzying spiral of sensation, the world narrowing to the point where nothing existed but you and the incredible feelings you were coaxing from him.

“Oh, oh god,” he gasped, his voice filled with desperation and delight as he tried to process the onslaught of pleasure. His hands clutched at the sheets, his fingers curling into the fabric as he fought to hold on, to ride the wave of bliss that threatened to sweep him away completely.

“Just relax, Spence,” you murmured, your voice a soothing balm that wrapped around him, grounding him even as he felt himself slipping further into the depths of ecstasy. “I’ve got you.”

The assurance in your words, the confidence in your touch, allowed him to let go, to surrender completely to the moment and you. Spencer’s whines turned into soft moans, his body moving in time with yours. 

As you continued, he felt himself teetering on the edge once more, the pleasure building and building until it reached a crescendo that left him breathless, his world narrowing to a single, perfect point of ecstasy.

"Please, please," he begged, his voice a soft plea as he gazed up at you with wide, shining eyes, his heart full of gratitude and love. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” His words were laced with desperation, a raw emotion that spilled from him in waves.

In that moment, you let go, pulling away just before he reached his peak. 

“No!” he whined, wiggling beneath you as his body searched for the contact he craved. His eyes were wide with disbelief and desperation, the sudden absence of your touch leaving him feeling adrift.

"Stop," you commanded gently, your voice a soothing balm that steadied him, even as you denied him the release he so desperately sought.

Spencer looked up with big eyes, waiting with bated breath for what was to come next. His chest rose and fell rapidly, anticipation and longing held him still, trusting you to guide him through the moment.

You rose up on your knees, positioning yourself with deliberate care, the soft, teasing smile on your lips hinting at the pleasure that awaited him. His gaze was fixed on you, awe and adoration in his eyes as he watched you take control.

Guiding his cock into your core, you moved with a grace that left him breathless, his heart racing as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of warmth and pressure that enveloped him, drawing a choked gasp from his lips as he felt himself surrounded by you.

You sank down until you were flush, ass to thighs, your bodies connected in a way that transcended the physical, leaving him trembling beneath you.

Spencer cried loud and drawn out, his noise one of ecstasy as his head fell back against the pillow, his mouth open in a silent cry of bliss. It was a vision that took your breath away, his body a canvas of sensation and emotion, every muscle taut with the intensity of the moment.

The pleasure washed over him in waves, each crest a surge of euphoria that left him gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he lost himself in the pleasure. His hands found their way to your hips, holding on as if you were his lifeline, grounding him amidst the dizzying swirl of sensation that filled his senses.

You moved with a rhythm that spoke of both tenderness and command, your body taking everything you wanted and needed from Spencer. 

“Please,” he whimpered, the word a breathless plea that slipped from his lips unbidden, hopeful this time you would listen. “Please, don’t stop, please.”

His voice was raw with emotion, the sincerity in his eyes a reflection of the trust he placed in you, the love that filled every corner of his heart as he gazed up at you, his vision of perfection and desire.

As you continued, guiding him through the waves of sensation with a skillful grace that left him breathless, Spencer knew that he was exactly where he belonged—in your arms, wrapped in the warmth of your love, the safety of your embrace.

Touch-starved and needy, now overstimulated and desperate for release, Spencer brought his fingers to your clit in hopes you would let him come again. His touch was tentative at first, the gentle pressure of his fingers a plea for more, a request for permission that you were more than willing to grant. He was caught between his desire for release and the need to please you, and every part of him was alive with the anticipation of what was to come.

“Oh, good boy, baby,” you praised, your voice a sultry murmur that sent shivers down his spine. His heart leaped at your words, the warmth of your approval wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. 

As he continued to rub your clit, his fingers moved with a deliberate precision that belied the need thrumming through him, his desire to make you feel as good as you made him. You writhed atop him, your body moving in sync with his, chasing your own release with a fervor that mirrored his own.

You could feel the tension building within you, each movement drawing you closer to the precipice, the edge of bliss that you both longed to reach. As you got closer, you purposefully clenched your walls, changing the angle in a way that made Spencer cry out in both pleasure and pain, the sensation pushing him toward the edge once more.

“Please, do that again,” he begged, his voice a breathless plea filled with desperation and hope. His eyes were wide and pleading, his need written across every line of his face.

And so you did.

With a knowing smile, you repeated the motion, the deliberate shift of your core creating a cascade of sensations that rippled through you both. Spencer’s body responded instinctively, his hips arching up to meet yours, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt himself being drawn into the depths of pleasure once more.

Every movement was a dance of desire, sensation that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a shared experience of bliss. Spencer’s fingers never faltered, his touch a constant reminder of his devotion, his eagerness to please, to bring you to the same heights of ecstasy that he longed to reach.

As you continued, the tension in your body coiled tighter, a winding thread of sensation that promised release with every thrust, every touch. Spencer’s cries mingled with your own, a duet of pleasure that filled the room, echoing off the walls as you both teetered on the brink.

You could feel the climax rising within you, a wave of bliss that built with each passing moment, drawing you inexorably toward the peak of your desire. Spencer’s fingers moved in time with the roll of your hips, bringing you right where you needed to be.

With a final surge, you gave in to the sensations, the culmination of your shared desire sweeping over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Spencer’s cry echoed yours, a harmony of whimpers and moans that filled the room, leaving you both breathless and spent in the aftermath.

Spencer thrust once more, before coming inside you. The intensity of the moment left him breathless, his body shuddering with the force of his release. You both knew he didn’t ask, but neither of you cared. The unspoken understanding between you was enough, a silent agreement that transcended words. 

Just happy to have you home and be back in each other’s arms, you both reveled in the warmth of the embrace, the security of knowing that you were where you belonged. His breath came in soft gasps as he tried to recover, the afterglow of the experience wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

“Welcome home,” Spencer murmured, his voice a whisper of contentment as he nuzzled into your neck, his arms wrapping around you with a gentle possessiveness that spoke volumes about how much he had missed you.

You smiled, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back, a gentle reminder of your presence, your promise to always return to him. The motion was soft and reassuring, a silent affirmation of the bond that had kept you together through time and distance. Spencer melted into your touch, the tension in his muscles slowly unwinding under your gentle caress.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered back, your voice tender and filled with sincerity. The words were a balm to his soul, soothing the ache of longing that had settled in his chest during your absence.

“I love you,” he whispered into your skin, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled closer, seeking the comfort and safety that only you could provide. 

“I love you more, baby,” you replied softly, your voice a gentle promise that wrapped around him like a protective embrace.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the comfort and security of each other’s arms. It was a moment of perfect peace, where nothing else mattered but the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the rhythmic beating of your hearts creating a soothing melody that lulled you both into a state of contentment.

[lilywastaken]

⇝ LOVE LANGUAGES !

CC!DreamWasTaken, CC!Sapnap, CC!GeorgeNotFound, CC!Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader.

SUMMARY: CCs and their love languages <3.

WARNINGS: SFW! Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and fluff.

A/N: I'm alive!! Very late valentine's post, but classes and homeworks have been crazy :(( anyways, I hope these are good!! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the post, it helps a lot!! Thank you for reading! <333 If you see any mistakes, do not hesitate to let me know, please!!!

MASTERLIST.

DREAM.

Physical touch — Dream thrives on your touch, whether it be a quick caress to his hand or one of his long required cuddle sessions. He loves the feeling of your skin on his (he's a bit touch starved, a global pandemic and being a faceless YouTuber will do that to you.), and will take any opportunity given to hold your hand when he walks along with you or sneak up behind you to press your body against his.

Due to him not using a cam on his streams, he sometimes asks (more like demands) you to pull up a chair next to him just so he can just feel you next to him, your hands playing absentmindedly with his free one, playing with his rings and slowly making your way onto his lap, where you have a better view of his monitors and an easier way to press kisses onto his freckled cheeks.

Words of affirmation — Much like any other person, Dream enjoys the simple reassurance that his partner appreciates him, a small "I love you." will cause him to shut down immediately. He as well is very vocal when it comes to his love for you, complimenting you on the daily and expressing how much you mean to him even when you've just woken up and you're pretty sure you're comparable to the girl from The Ring, but to him, you're breathtaking whenever and however.

He also likes the small moments you both spend at night in bed just whispering how much you love each other, soft giggles and the wet sounds of kisses resonating around the bedroom.

Dream's very fond of sending you short and sweet messages at random times of the day, even when you're a few inches away from him, he'll start giggling like a schoolgirl as he watches you read over his sappy message.

Quality time — He has a lot of free time on his hands when he's not working on content, and he prefers to spend it with you and his friends, going out to restaurants and just walking around, enjoying the time he can now spend outside without worrying about anyone recognising him.

Dream likes eating out with you a lot, before his face reveal dates consisted of whatever take out was available and some shitty movie Sapnap had chosen before falling asleep on the sofa. But now they consist of some fancy restaurant of his choosing and holding your hand over the table, thumb rubbing over your knuckles and talking about whatever.

Receiving/giving gifts — Dream LOVES spoiling you. I mean, have you seen how he acts with George? He's an unofficial sugar daddy for you both. He sees your eyes linger on some piece of jewellery or an item of clothing he thinks would look amazing on you, expect for it to appear in a little box or a bag on your bed the next day. He also goes all out on Valentine's Day, booking a table for two at a fancy restaurant and gets you a single rose, since he knows it's more meaningful than an extravagant bouquet of flowers (Don't let him fool you, he's given you many bouquets before.), and some small present he knows you'll love.

Like any other person, he likes receiving gifts, and can always count on you to get him something he will love, like a little teddy bear with a Sooners jersey one with his name on the back.

Acts of service — Although he's not very good at it, Dream does enjoy cooking for you at times, and although he does try and make the end product look fancy, you can always tell that it's box Mac and cheese or some fancy ramen he got out of a packet, but it's the thought that counts. He also is very keen on cleaning for you when he's over at your flat, he likes helping on mundane chores like washing and drying the dishes or lifting up furniture so you can reach those pesky corners full of dust.

SAPNAP.

Physical touch — Sap is very big on physical touch, he enjoys being close to you in any way he can, brushing his hand against the small of your back when he walks past you in the hallway, melting in your arms when you come behind him while he's on his computer and hugging him from behind, he lives for your affection.

He's also very cuddly during your down time together, needing to have you in his arms whenever he's sitting or lying down on the sofa and subconsciously gravitating towards your own body during nighttime, hands grabbing at your waist to pull you into his warmth.

Words of affirmation — I don't see Sapnap really being in touch with his emotions until further into your relationship, so at the beginning, you'd have to be the one to initiate that type of communication with him, but he won't actively confirm his feelings until a few months into your relationship.

Once he's comfortable, he will spend hours at a time just lying in bed with you murmuring about how much he cares for you, loves you, appreciates you being with him.

He's the kind of person to ignore any previous texts you've sent him just to send out an "I love you" text and go back to ignoring you.

He does really enjoy being reassured about your love for him as well, please cup his face in your hands and tell him how much you love him.

Quality time — Sapnap spends a lot of his time playing video games, we know that, so he doesn't really get much one on one time with you that isn't hanging out on a discord call together or having you perched up on his lap doing your own thing while he shouts obscenities at the other players.

So when you two get your time together, he makes the best of it, taking you to ridiculous places you'd never have gone to before, fancy restaurants that would inevitably end up giving you food poisoning, or just lying with you on the sofa watching a movie until George comes in and ruins it.

He honestly doesn't really care what you two do in your spare time, having your hand in his and listening to your ramble on about anything is enough for him, no matter the place or time.

Receiving/giving gifts — Sometimes, just for shits and giggles, Sapnap just buys your entire wishlist and watches your reaction when tons of boxes arrive at your porch, laughing and snickering as you run after him to chastise him for using up so much money on you.

But he doesn't care, he has money for a reason, and he likes the sparkle in your eye whenever he gives you something or he accepts some gift from you, he just enjoys spoiling you AND being spoiled.

Acts of service — When it comes to him, it's the little things. Standing in the corner of the kitchen waiting for you to ask him to cut or peel something, holding the Christmas decoration box while another hand lays on your back making sure you don't fall as you hang baubles on the tree, washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen after you make a meal for the both of you, brining you snacks or a proper meal when you're working… Just small things that show his affection towards you.

GEORGENOTFOUND.

Physical touch — George is not that big on physical touch, but he won't actively run away from it when presented with a hug or a kiss from you. He's not the type of person to initiate touch out of the blue, he's the type to take it slow and move towards a nice cuddle session while taking it easy.

But when you finally get him to yourself, know that he will be putty in your hands almost immediately, head slotted in your chest and eyes drooping closed, your warm touch and soft kisses and reassurance enough to send this man to sleep.

He's also the type to roll his eyes or groan out in disgust whenever you kiss him in public or in front of his friends, but secretly gets nervous and giddy whenever he sees you lean in to press your lips to his or move your hand to grasp his.

Words of affirmation — George isn't really good at expressing his emotions, but he does show them through other ways like his actions. That doesn't mean he won't ever say "I love you" or tell you how much he appreciates you, it's just very rare for him to actually find the words and way to express them to you.

He finds it easier to communicate those kinds of things through text, so expect a few messages written in such a way that are able to rival those 16th century love letters randomly sent throughout the day.

Quality time — George doesn't spend much time streaming (as we all know) so he's got quite a lot of time on his hands to spend with his friends and you, whether it's just sitting next to you while you work doing his own thing or actively going out on a date or staying inside to play a game together ( he always loses but makes you think that he did on purpose ).

Also please be the one to organise dates, because although George does reservate date nights at nice restaurants or clear his schedule to take you somewhere, he will forget. You'll be in the middle of a cuddle session with him, half watching the movie, half focusing on your boyfriend's pretty face when he suddenly jumps in place, eyes wide as he shouts about a reservation he just remembered. But he tries, at least. He won't always forget your reservations, but there will be a few moments where he does act like a dumbass.

Receiving/giving gifts — This man likes being spoiled, that's a given. See how happy he gets when Dream just takes out his credit card unasked? He's a prince who loves to be spoiled by his partner. So don't hesitate to get him something, even if it's a small thing like a scarf or a piece of jewellery you think would look good on him, he will take it and appreciate it a whole lot, even if it's the most useless thing in the world, he'll love it. It came from you, one of the people he loves the most and will treasure it as if it's the crown jewels themselves.

Acts of service — He's quite lazy sometimes, but that doesn't mean he won't do anything for you. As stated before, he doesn't really show his love through words, so his actions are the way to show his appreciation for you. He does chores for you around the house, the dishes, cleaning up any dirty laundry he can find strewn across the floor, cooking any random shit he can find and trying his best to make it look appetising for you, etc.

But apart from those mundane chores, he also does more little things like Sapnap: helping you with your makeup or hair or clothes, trailing after you while you cook waiting to help, instantly taking over whatever task you're working on whenever you need a break, making sure you're week hydrated and rested when you spend more time than usual in front of a screen.

WILBUR SOOT.

Physical touch — Wilburs a very touchy person as he's confirmed himself, always finding his hand wrapping around yours or resting on your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest so he can rest his chin on the crown of your head, enjoying how flustered you get whenever he pulls that kind of shit in public or around your friends.

He immediately gravitates towards you whenever you're both in the same place/room, his eyes finding yours and sending you a flashing smile before scurrying towards you just to press himself to your side, hand running over your back and busying himself with drawing on your skin; or if you're facing away from him when he finds you, he'll grab your waist from behind and watch you scream out of shock before hitting his chest, snickering as he pulls you into his arms.

Words of affirmation — Wilbur is a fucking poet when it comes to his love for you, spending hours at a time at his desk writing sickengly sweet verses in his little notebook about you and how fucking in love he is, leaving his notes around the house just so you'll pick them up and read through them, smiling brightly whenever you bring them back to him and ask him about it. He's very open with his love, whispering soft "I love you"s into your ear at random times of the day, strumming idly in his guitar and trying to find some type of melody that fits in with all the beautiful words he's written about you. Also expect lots of compliments through text as well, a "you look breathtaking today" sent when he's across the room from you, a goofy smile on his face as he watches you read it.

Quality time — It's the little things for Wil, like the feeling of lifting you in his arms and peppering kisses across your face the moment after a concert ends, adrenaline rushing through his veins making him more brave than usual; taking you out to bars and pubs with your friends just so you both can curl into one of the leather sofas and sip your drinks together; sitting on your bed while you scroll through your laptop as he strums on his guitar, singing softly to you or asking for your opinion on whatever riff he just came up with.

You don't really get much one-on-one dates. Let me explain. Wilbur tries his best to get a nice restaurant reservation, and when he finally gets a table, he's waiting for you to show up with a bright smile and a positive outlook on the evening, only for you to end up arriving with Tommy or James somehow tagging along with Wilbur when he leaves the office. Doesn't mean you don't have a nice time, though.

Receiving/giving gifts — Wilburs not a big gift giver, so he doesn't really mind if you don't either, but he will appreciate it massively if you do. Get him a new guitar and his old one will be out of the window (not actually, he'd probably give it to Tommy or just mount it on the wall), or some new sweaters that look amazing on him and he'll just burn every other item of clothing he owns. He isn't one to never buy stuff for his s/o, though, you see something you like and don't think you have enough for it? He's waving his card in front of your face. Tommy comments on something he heard you say you wanted? It's showing up a few days later. Also does his best to go all out on holidays/birthdays.

Acts of service — Wil enjoys showering with you a lot. Like just rubbing in the shampoo into your hair and playing with your locks, then leaning down so you can do the same to him? Peak acts of service for him. Also making tea for you (or coffee, but his specialty is tea) and bringing it to you on a cold night, cooking some recipe he saw online and making sure it's perfectly done so you're able to stomach it, and just doing chores around the house while you work or are busy.

Also will melt if you do small things like change his guitar strings or clean his desk while you're at his office.

[shubblelive]

— INVITATION

summary : after a long day of work, wilbur is desperate to curl up and spend time with his favourite girl. only problem is you’re not speaking to him.

genre : angst -> fluff, happy ending

warnings : light swearing, mentions of food/eating, wilbur being mean

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called a girl

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where the reader is an overall bubbly, energetic person and wilbur just suddenly lashes out at her one day, and she apologizes and goes home, and wilbur tries to call her and apologize and everything in the end it’s just fluff and apologies<33 tyy

word count : 2.1k

note : hi anon!! i hope you enjoy this fic, it’s a bit longer than i expected but i’m very very happy with it <3 also you referred to reader using she/her so i used those pronouns in the fic i hope that’s alright <333

you were wearing his favourite jumper. it was yours - he’d swear on it - but you were adamant that it belonged to him. it had, originally, as most of your jumpers were, been his. but he’d given it to you months ago, and you were still promising that you were going to return it one day. he hoped you didn’t.

you’d been stealing his clothes for as long as you two had been together, for the last four years he had bought every single shirt, jumper, jacket, with the knowledge that you would steal it. it made sense, in your earliest days, when the two of you were long distance. you’d arrive at his flat for a week with a half-packed suitcase, and you’d leave with nearly a drawer full of his sweaters. but even now that you lived ten minutes away, you still had a habit of nabbing his sweaters. he didn’t mind in the slightest, and most of the time he would offer up suggestions for articles of clothing you could take. you guys had been together for nearly five years, it felt weird for him to be territorial on his clothes, especially because you’d return them whenever he asked, the scent of your perfume mingling on the fabric. he absolutely loved seeing you so happy, and if you stealing a shirt or two did that then he was more than willing to comply.

or at least, he was usually. now, he was running late for a stream and he couldn’t find his grey jumper. he’d been tearing his bedroom apart piece by piece in an attempt to find it so he didn’t have to walk through the rain in just a t-shirt. he sighed and sat down on his bed, remembering that he gave it to you when he went over to your apartment earlier in the week. it had been five days since he’d seen you in person, and it was driving him crazy. he had planned to spend the night at your place after his stream though, and that was pulling him through. it was fine, he took a few deep breaths and went to go and find a jacket to wear, already pulling up twitter to post the stream would be ten or so minutes late. he remembered to tweet out about his late stream, but he hadn’t remembered to text you to tell you that he would be late coming over. you’d organised for seven, which gave him nearly three hours of streaming time, and he assured you that he wouldn’t be going for that long. he ended up jumping on a call with some other people while he played, though, and that completely distracted him. leaving the office at eight, he had his phone on speaker as he tried to order an uber and call you at the same time. he was exhausted, and of course he wanted to see you and spend time with his favourite girl, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to reach your house without falling asleep, and being more social sounded like torture.

his jacket was rough against his arms, and he remembered suddenly about the jumper. your call timed out and he finished ordering the uber for his own flat, moving to text you and tell you he didn’t feel up to hanging out.

he opened your message history, and was hit with a message from you from half-past six, over an hour and a half ago. hi wil, you’d opened with, and he softened, knowing his annoyance didn’t really mean anything. my neighbours are being really loud, so do you mind if we meet at your place? can’t wait to see you. there was another two, each sent half an hour apart, a second one apologising for messaging while he was streaming, and a third saying, hi i let myself in i hope that’s okay. are you almost home? your most recent message was nearing forty-five minutes ago, and he cursed under his breath, cancelling the uber knowing it would be faster for him to walk than wait.

he reached his apartment out of breath and cold, and he couldn’t wait to collapse into bed. he still got to see you, and hopefully your smile would be enough to rid himself of any residual annoyance he held towards you.

he dropped his guitar case on the floor in the living room, calling out your name. “lovely? you still here?”

he heard a crash from the kitchen and took his coat off, slinging it over the arm of the couch. “hang on!”

he had a headache, and he massaged his temple as he made his way into the kitchen. you brightened the second he arrived, all but running into his arms. “hi, darling,” he needed alone time. he loved you, of course he loved. you were one of the most important people in his entire life, he absolutely adored you. but right now, he craved being by himself. you were here though, so he wasn’t going to make that your problem.

“hi, wil! sorry about the mess!” you smiled up at him. “i thought i’d make food? are you hungry?”

he shook his head. “no, you’re alright. want any help?” this time it was you who shook your head, and he kissed your temple before going to sit down on the couch, closing his eyes. you’d eat, and then you guys would be able to go to bed, and when he woke up in the morning you would be there, and he’d get to take you out for breakfast and spend the entire day with you. he just needed rest.

there was something you needed, and it was on the top shelf. you didn’t want to bother wilbur, he’d just got home, you could do it yourself. wilbur was much taller than you, so to get to his top shelf you would have to climb up on the counter. you’d be alright, you didn’t need to stand up or anything, just kneeling on the bench would be fine. you got up there with ease, but wilbur came through the doorway right as you started reaching. “what are you doing?” he’d been too loud, he knew that instantly, you jumped, and he had to rush forward and stop you from falling off the counter. “what on earth are you on the counter for?”

“i was trying to reach the bowl,” you said quietly. he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“why didn’t you come get me?”

he helped you down. “i’m sorry, wil. didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted. he felt a flash of annoyance, and then kicked himself for it. you were never a bother, not even when he was exhausted.

“you should have asked for help.” he said simply. “do you need anything else?”

you smiled up at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to return it. “do you wanna watch a movie? i’ve been hearing good things about this one new one, here let me-”

“stop,” he breathed out. “i’m exhausted, and i just want to be alone, and you’re here, in my kitchen crashing around and almost hurting yourself! i can’t do this right now?”

your smile ebbed, and you took a step back. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“because i didn’t want to upset you,” he sighed out, running a hand through his hair. “i just can’t do this tonight,”

“you invited me-”

“you invited yourself!” he wasn’t yelling, no, he had enough patience to not be yelling at you, but his voice was raised. “i didn’t invite you over to my house into my kitchen, to wear my sweaters.”

you’d been together for half a decade. neither of you needed an invitation, you both knew that. wilbur had given you a key because he wanted you to let yourself in whenever you needed. he’d spent entire days in your flat without you there while you were away. this had never been an issue before, and he made sure you knew that.

you stood still for a moment before reaching down and pulling off the jumper of his he’d been looking for, leaving you in a black long sleeved shirt underneath. you tossed it to him. “because you never thought to call me and let me know you’d be late. by over an hour.” you were quiet, quieter than you usually were. your voice was loud, and bright and he revelled in it, soaking up every little comment you made, every “i love you,” every giggle, he adored it.

“because not everything i do has to do with you,” he was verging on cruel, and he knew it. “i had a long day at work, and i just want to be alone, but you’re here. so i have to cater to you.”

you didn’t reply, just brushing past him, with a soft “sorry” as your arm brushed his. you grabbed your stuff and left in silence, deciding on walking home.

he rested his forehead against the closest surface - the fridge - and swore under his breath. he was still holding your jumper, and he brought it up to his face, burying his nose in it. it smelled like lavender.

he fished his phone out to call you as he retook his place on the couch, cheek still pressing into the jumper. it was soft. he loved it. he loved you. he was such an asshole.

he called. you ignored him. he called again, three times. four times over the half an hour until he knew you were home and he knew you were ignoring him. his headache had increased, and all he wanted was for you to be resting in his lap, drinking you in while you watched your movie. he opened his phone again, not to call you this time, but instead to order an uber for your place. god, they were probably making so much money off him tonight but if he had to walk the entire way to your house, he’d collapse of exhaustion. he was there within fifteen minutes, thankfully this driver not getting him lost, and he payed with one hand as he bounded up the stairs with the other. he brought out his keys on autopilot and then remembered what he’d said, putting them down to knock on your door instead.

“darling!” this time he was yelling. he didn’t care though, he needed you to hear him. it took three more times knocking and five more yelled pet names before you opened the door. your eyes were red, and you had changed into softer clothes, these ones all belonging to you. “i’m so sorry,” the words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. “i’m sorry i got angry, i’ve been so tired recently and that’s not your fault nor your problem, but i took it out on you and you don’t deserve that, lovely.”

“i didn’t want to bother you,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper. he took a step closer to you hesitantly, and when you didn’t step back he wrapped his arms around you.

“you’re never a bother,” he said, voice pouring with affection to make up for his thoughts betraying him earlier. “i love you more than anything. i’m sorry i didn’t show you that tonight,”

“i’m sorry for going in without you telling me,” you said.

he shook his head vehemently. “i gave you a key, lovely. i gave you a key because any space with you is better than one without.” he took your face in his hands and made you look at him as he spoke, trying to get you to absorb every word he was saying. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and i can’t do that if you can’t get into my house.”

you looked like you were about to start crying again, and he kissed you gently. “i’m sorry,”

“don’t be sorry,” he assured you. “just let me in? i want to watch a movie with you.” your smile came back, if only slightly, and he knew he was making progress. you brightened up every room you were in, and even if you were a little loud, and too bubbly, and you stole his sweaters, he wouldn’t want you to be any different. he kissed you again, slowly and gently and when he pulled back your eyes were sparkling. “lovely?” you hummed to show you were listening. “when we get a place together, promise you won’t climb on the counters?”

“i don’t know if i can commit to that,” you said, laughing softly. “but i’ll see what i can do.”

[thesoleilla]

Hello I am very fond of your writing style lately and wanted to drop a request :) I would really like if you do one this in Gojo or Dazai

Going on shopping with them

Writing their name on their palm

slow dancing

souvenir from travels

Please I will really appreciate if you did any two of them or just club them all in one up to you how you do them. Hope you have a great day <333

Souvenir from a trip | Dazai x Reader

Masterlist

As a member of a detective agency, Dazai often had to travel around Japan which meant, he was away a lot, leaving you alone, in an empty miserable apartment.

Everytime he came back, your home filled up with life again. Sure, he made a mess, but that was what made this damn apartment feel like home. It felt as if he never left. And he himself acted like he never left. Never once did he say he missed you, or even told you about what he did. He never even asked what you did, which hurt the most. He simply didn't seem to care. Perhaps he did, maybe he didn't. You thought dating him would help uncover all of the mysteries, turns out he just created others. He probably did care, you knew it, but never getting that simple confirmation made you ache. You weren't asking for much, just wanted to be sure he missed you, and that life was harder without you.

As a result of this behaviour, here you were, sitting on the couch of your empty apartment, among the many candy wrappers and papers, mindlessly watching the tv, or more like zoning out to the TV. If someone asked, you wouldn't even be able to tell them what you were watching. But it brought a bit of light to your eyes, action to this place, the only bit of life you could get.

You just craved life, and seeing other humans interacting on your stream made it feel slightly more real.

That was, until you heard the tingling sound of keys unlocking the door. Right, today was the day he was supposed to come back - somehow, you managed to forget that piece of information. Maybe you just... didn't care anymore. Usually, you'd be rushing towards the door to greet him excitedly, but you simply couldn't find the strength for that right now. It just happened too many times. You knew he wouldn't reciprocate your excitement, why even try? And so, you just kept sitting on that damn couch, occasionally sneaking a pic at the door being opened.

"Y/NNNN!!! Oh, how I've missed you!!!" ... Huh? Dazai was now rushing towards you, a big bag in his hands, which he carefully put down on the table before purposefully falling down on top of you, hugging you tight.

"...What are you doing?"

"What? Am I not allowed to miss my sweet, dearest Y/N?!" He faked his shock dramatically, which would usually make you cheer up and forget everything. Unfortunately, today wasn't usual.

"...Why now, out of nowhere?"

"Because I, Dazai Osamu, the greatest boyfriend ever, got back my souvenirs!" He kept up his dramatic theatrical tone, which started working on you.

"Got back...? 'samu, you better explain yourself."

"Open the bag, and you'll find the answer your heart desires!" He said, almost forcing the bag into your hands, and, oh Lord was it heavy.

You eventually started looking inside, finding a souvenir from every place he has been too in the past few years. Mugs, badges, keychains, patches... You name it, he had it.

"Why not give me this before..?"

Dazai rolled his eyes "Alas, you should refer to the very evil coworker Kunikkida who kept taking them from me and said I could only have them back when I was done with my work!"

You rolled your eyes as well, sighing and chuckling before burying your face into his chest.

"You're an idiot sometimes. I was scared, dumbass... Why did you never tell me you missed me though?"

Dazai pushed up imaginary glasses onto his nose with a slug grin. "Well, that would be meaningless without a gift wouldn't it?"

You chuckled at his antics, squeezing him tighter.

"Well, don't do that again. You scared the crap out of me.."

"Okay, I promise." He let go of his over the top tone, almost whispering as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Heyyy! Heavily apologize for the very late response, as always, I'm still catching up on requests and just don't have a lot of times to dedicate to writing. Hope you enjoyed this, you all take care and have a great day!

After today, you found yourself with an healthier relationship, and a whole lot of mugs.

[karkatminecraft]

Forever and always grateful for the people who archive/reupload old vods (and newer ones too, of course) from the dteam <333 ily ily ily. Thank u so much to everyone who keeps alive any piece of content from them. I love rewatching streams, and always worry about any of them becoming lost media eventually. But there's some awesome people out there preserving them. So thank u SO MUCH for their efforts. Literally such a fundamental part of the community <333

[ultra-raging-ghost]

Bad explained the phrase "Calling it a night" to richas :') love them

also bad's ending stream "a little early" (its midnight you silly goose) because hes being ominous and saying he has things to do. crazy guy.

Richas is thanking bad for spending time with him, and hes being vague that forever being gone is making him sad and being with bad makes him happy also said thats all we're getting from him as far as being wholesome <333 pomme is bullying richas because hes her "best friend for a reason" and "theres more wholesomeness [where that comes from]"

night bad!

if anyones curious, he had a breakdown over forever like 8 times in the last 1.5 hours. Probably 15-20 times over the whole stream, any time anyone even said the word forever hed fall to pieces figuratively and literally

[kthsbelle]

SECOND CHANCES

pairings : tattooed eren jaeger x fem!reader

sypnosis : written from eren’s pov . a couple trying to find themselves and meaning in their relationship after eren cheated .

a/n : this is a small / short gift to y’all because my first fic reached 10k !!! this is huge for me. i write because I love it and wanted to share an idea . the attention was something special to me . this is an excerpt from a fun roleplay i had . i thought it told am interested story . enjoy !

the day dissolved into dusk, a canopy of brooding clouds hovered over eren's head, foretelling a sense of impending doom.

        ominous. foreboding.

        as the sun set over the bustling city , the brunette sat at the small kitchen table in his apartment, gazing blankly at his plate of untouched food. the fluorescent light overhead cast a harsh glow on the scene, highlighting the cracks in the yellowing linoleum and the smudges on the walls . the traffic outside was steady hum , punctuated by the occasional honk or screech of brakes that indicated a slightly heavy afternoon jam . the lighting in the small kitchen was dim, casting long shadows across the room . the only source of light were a few overhead bulbs that hung from the ceiling , one of them flickering slightly as if on the verge of burning out . it was almost ironic ; the lighting seemed to be synchronized with the weight of the atmosphere as eren sat , left to face his own demise ; the threatening and inauspicious fact that he was guilty of his own misfortune .



        across from him sat yourself , his girlfriend- well, seemingly ‘ex’- girlfriend , just as absent-minded , who seemed to have taken profound interest in the food on your plate , having looked at anything but him this whole dinner . he understood , though - he wasn’t able to look at his reflection in the mirror either . the man shifted in his seat , fork now moving to pick at the fluffy scoop of mashed potatoes in his plate . eren's obsidian gaze fell on you for another moment , the slight rouge on your cheek being visible as well as the delicate lines of the side of your face . for a woman of small stature , you always made a prodigious impact . a delicate snub of nose , sun-lit strands and eyes that pulled on something deep in his chest .


        he swept his gaze about the room . his place seemed nothing but the empty of shell that nursed memories of what once was . the walls painted a cool shade of gray licked by the orangeade shade of the sun streaming through , the hardwood floors and the clean lines of the furniture that gave this space an uncluttered feel which eren always sought when it came to the comfort of his apartment. the polaroid photos on the shelf under the television caught his eyes ; both of you sunkissed , glowing at his favorite band’s concert . his piercing eyes shifted towards the kitchen , the red vintage coffee maker you had bought at a thrift store during one of your weekend adventures sat at the top of a shelf collecting dust . the spice rack that you had helped him organize so meticulously still sat untouched , and the refrigerator door was nothing more than a pit of bittersweet, scattered memories , adorned with postcards, unchecked bucket list items that served as a reminder of your memories together.

        he exhaled a lungful of sorrow as his fork finally pierced through a branch of asparagus which he hesitantly brought to his mouth . the man who usually enjoyed his greens found himself hardly able to pull his lips apart to welcome the vegetable . he chewed carefully and swallowed , the piece of food sitting at the pit of his stomach like a pile of rocks . eren cleared his wry throat gently before attempting to chase the dryness with a sip of the , now, watered down coke . he placed the glass back down , the signet ring around his little finger shooting gold through the glass' stem . the tattoo on his finger was exposed for a brief second . ‘333’ written in italic wrapped around his pinky as the time at which he first confessed his feelings to you . he had mapped many others . the black , and occasionally , red ink traced an endless pattern on his skin that kept a record of his most prized moments with you . if you had done something special , it would end up immortalized on his skin - somewhere , within the drawings on his chest or sleeves . with his gaping collar , sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his forearms and windblown dark hair , he seemed quite more at ease than he truly was .


his aquamarine eyes lifted towards you again , this time , a bit more urgently . his calm expression betrayed his inner turmoil . strong currents rose in his irises . he seemed to be deep in thought , stare lost in something he couldn't explain . was all of this truly lost ?

        oh , he was so wrong .
        

the memories of his cheating were nothing he could recall with a calm mind . they made his stomach churn with the acidic burn of guilt and disappointment . he couldn't help but feel that a deep part of him craved to have his actions be justified - he wanted to feel something . and though he didn't search for it ; it - she came to him and he simply let it happen . he couldn’t deny , he wanted the sense of intimacy that only physical contact and desire with another human could provide . quite selfish , he knew . but he truly thought there was nothing left for him in his relationship that had been slowly nibbled away by their own issues .

  " you’re always alone…ever want company ?" he remembered the red head's words as he picked up his skateboard , roguish green eyes piercing through his soul . it was such a formulaic thing to say that it almost broke a lopsided smile out of him . " what if i was ?" the words tipped over his lips faster than he could think and before he knew it , he was tangled under a pair of limbs.

        he spared her the details when recounting the ordeals of his affair . it was an especially hard conversation to have . it had to be paced . between the pauses to breathe and the glossiness that coated her eyes every few seconds , he was forced to watch the damage he'd caused . but were they forced to relive this over and over ?

        still now , as they sat to eat their dinner , the air in the room was thick with tension and unspoken words . he wanted to say something, anything to break the silence, to ease the tension.

        he fidgeted with his fork , drumming it against the table as he tried to find something to say , but the words wouldn't come . he wanted this crushing reality disappear , for the fog to dissipate - maybe there was still a chance that none of this was lost , that a remaining spark could be ignited for the depths of your eyes . you were , and still remained , as mesmerizing as a raging ocean, with depths and currents that no one could fully comprehend . but he did .

      eren cleared his throat , embarrassment seared him from inside out .

      a sheen of sweat broke out on his curved brow .

     his tongue was a sailor's knot but he finally mustered the courage to speak.

     a hard swallow , an intense searching gaze ,

        " babe..."

        the husky whisper of a confession ,

        '' i know i messed up . but i just-this is the truest thing i've known . can we talk again ?"

[s0ftl3]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔

A/N: wooooo this was the longest one I’ve done yet and I’m really happy with how it turned out. This is for the anon who requested  Schlatt x streamer! Reader fluff <333

“The craft and the furious? Really?” Schlatt looks at you in disbelief, “That’s the stupid fucking name for your stream?” He returns his gaze to the monitor reading the chat. Most of the audience is shaming him for questioning your comedic genius, and the minority agrees with him. They're probably coming over from his channel anyways. 

“Hey, don’t be a hater Schlatt,” you bump him away from your desk with your hip. He glares at you off-screen, and you giggle, sticking your tongue out at him. “Hey, guys it’s me againnnn, if you couldn't tell by the name of the stream me and Schlatt are making crafts today.” you hold up a big stack of craft supplies. They include a large stack of colorful construction paper, scissors, glue, and glitter. Schlatt was less than excited about the idea of the glitter, but when you asked so nicely; he couldn’t tell you no. 

You hold up your phone to the monitor after; setting the craft supplies down. Your screen displays pretty pictures of construction paper butterflies; some of them are sparkly and some plain. “Since Schlatt’s not a master crafter like me,” another glare from Schlatt comes your way, “we’re gonna make these little butterflies.” The craft itself was fitting for your channel considering your logo was a butterfly.

You don’t see it, but your chat surely does. They see the way, Schlatt looks at you with such a soft expression, though you don’t see their comments about it because the chat’s going by too fast. He’s glad because he does not need his best friend to know he likes her. To be fair, he’s pretty sure his feelings are past just liking you. By the time he’s zoned back in on what’s going on, your already folding pieces of paper into the shape of a butterfly.

“Hey, wait, slow the fuck down; what are you doing?” He rushes to your side, trying to figure out what folds you made in the paper. You make no effort to show him how you got to this point in the craft and make him figure it out himself.

Eventually, he figures it out, with no help from you of course. While he finishes folding his butterfly, you're adding blue glitter to one of yours. He glances over, admiring the look of focus on your face. He thinks you look the cutest like this, your tongue poking out in concentration, and your brows furrowed. He wishes he had the courage to lean over and kiss you right now. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think he can handle the embarrassment of you potentially rejecting him on stream. 

Throughout the rest of the stream, the chat continues to comment about Schlatt’s “staring problem” as they called it. Thankfully, at least it appeared this way to Schlatt, you continued to notice. Soon enough though the stream had to come to an end. You and Schlatt gave the chat your final goodbyes for the night.  Immediately after ending the stream, you like to watch what your audience clipped from the stream. (something Schlatt was blissfully unaware of when he left to go to the bathroom) 

You clicked on the first clip titled, “Schlatt smiling like a simp,”  which featured him smiling, so genuinely at you while you folded your third butterfly. You’re shocked you didn’t notice, but by the look on your face, you were too immersed in your folding duties. Clicked on another clip labeled “Schlatt’s staring problem,” it is yet another video of Schlatt unfocused on his own craft, and more focused on the pout of your lips. Maybe it was a silly coincidence, you think, so you click on one more to be sure. This one; is a very short clip of Schlatt laughing at a joke your chat deemed incredibly dumb. It sounded so genuine; not like he felt bad for not laughing when the pun didn’t come out as funny as you meant it. Before, whatever the feelings running through you can really hit; Schlatt re-enters your recording room. The clip is replaying and he can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks. 

“Uhh, What’re you watching?” he asks. You turn to face him; your cheeks are equally as pink. You hide the monitor behind your back. 

“Just, um, some of the clips from the stream.” you refuse to meet eyes with him, worried if you do, he’ll be able to tell how much you enjoyed watching him give his attention to you. It doesn’t really matter though; because he’s caught on, and, now, rather than feeling embarrassed; he feels a little more confident. 

“Yeah?” he takes a few steps closer, his confidence growing with each step, “let me guess they’re clips of your chat telling you how I’ve been staring at you this whole time?” he closes in on you at your desk, leaning over you. The sudden proximity was shocking but not unwelcome. 

“They said you were a simp, Jay,” his smirk turns into the pretty genuine smile you treasure so much as he chuckles at that. He leans down, his face level with yours; his gaze flits back and forth between your lips and eyes.

“Yeah well, they might be right,” he leans even closer looking to your eyes once more for confirmation that this was okay. When he gets the tiniest nod from you he finally connects your lips. “Just for you though, angel.”

[starlightiing]

Everything Ends || M || Pierre Gasly & Nyck de Vries

Title: Everything Ends

Rating: Mature (Violence).

Warnings: Blood, light gore, character death.

Pairing: Gen, Pierre/Nyck if you squint

Based on this BEAUTIFUL. STUNNING. GORGEOUS. (tw blood!!!) Piece of art work from @allphatauri - I am begging you to go reblog the art, it is beautiful and I had the honor of watching it come alive before my eyes on stream in my F1 Server <333 This fic was heavily inspired by Nyck and Pierre's story. There may be a part two with Liam and Yuki's.... B)

His heartbeat roars in his ears the moment his eyes focus on Pierre. He’s sprawled on the ground almost like a ragdoll, skin pale and visibly clammy. The twitch of his chest is faint, barely-there, with breaths that come so quickly it makes Nyck feel like he’s the one starving for oxygen.

And perhaps he is. He realizes, now, that he hasn’t taken a breath since stumbling upon Pierre’s body.

In stark contrast to the paleness of Pierre’s skin are the splashes of deep crimson splattered across his chest and dribbling down from his lips. Nyck stumbles forward, his feet betraying his mind’s need to see and understand exactly what has happened by following his heart’s hesitance at experiencing Pierre’s last moments of life.

No, no, surely not. Surely there’s something –

“Pierre?” Nyck whispers, his voice gentle and weak as he pushes himself forward, trembling legs be damned. He collapses as soon as he makes it to Pierre’s side, taking in the magnitude of the wound. There is a gash in his chest he had not noticed before, angry and red and bubbling with every breath Pierre tries to take. The blood pouring from his lips makes sense, now, with the blunt force trauma to his chest so obvious.

His lungs - they must be -

“Pierre, Pierre, please.” Nyck tries again, his voice louder and more urgent as he reaches a quivering hand forward to test the pulse at Pierre’s neck. The beat is feather soft and all but non-existent, like his heart is merely whispering within the confines of his ribs instead of singing with power the way Nyck is so used to. The way he breathes sends a shiver down Nyck’s spine and straight to the core of his soul. The inhales are wet - gurgled and shallow, with a desperation of a rasp to pull air into lungs that may not have the space left in them for oxygen anymore. The exhales are almost worse, rattling with blood that continues to bubble out from the corner of Pierre’s lips. He is choking, suffocating, on the very same blood meant to keep him alive. 

Nyck swallows a mouthful of bile and nearly vomits on the spot. He moves his hand from Pierre’s neck to the side of his face, and only then do hazy, unfocused blue eyes flutter open to meet his gaze.

“Pierre! Hang on, okay? Just hang on. I will get someone to help, just - just don’t go anywhere.” it hurts too much to say ‘don’t die’ even if that is exactly what he means. There is a spark of recognition in Pierre’s eyes that lasts the span of a heartbeat, before that clarity becomes fear, and then that fear becomes chilling horror. Nyck’s blood runs cold at the expression on Pierre’s face, and he grabs his bloody cheeks between both of his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright.”

“Run,” Pierre chokes, coughing up an alarming mouthful of blood. He barely manages to pull in a breath to finish his plea, “Please, run. Now.”

“What? I - I will, I will run and get help.” Nyck assures him, though the fear in Pierre’s eyes only seems to grow. Confusion settles over him like a thick and heavy blanket, one that has him trapped and struggling to squirm his way out. 

A soft flicker of movement twists the shadows around Pierre’s body, and Nyck whirls around so quickly it nearly makes his head spin. A gasp claws its way up from the back of his throat when his eyes settle on another presence, a man, looming over him far too close for comfort. He startles, scrambling backwards until his hand accidentally hits Pierre’s arm, and only then does he sober up enough to recognize the man’s face. The panic quells, and his frantic breaths begin to calm as he pulls himself back up to his feet.

“Christian! Please, Pierre – something’s happened to Pierre. We need to get him help, he can’t breathe.”

Christian remains stoically calm, and Nyck watches as his eyes trail down to Pierre, still struggling for air on the ground. Nothing flickers across his face, not one single flash of surprise, of pity, of empathy -

He merely watches Pierre for a moment, head cocked to the side in interest, before his eyes finally trail their way back up to Nyck.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for him, Nyck. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it.”

“He…what?” 

At that moment, Pierre makes a strangled sort of sound, something that is suspiciously close to Nyck’s own name garbled through a mouth full of blood and breathless lungs. Nyck looks back down at him, noticing the way his chest no longer moves and his eyes, oh, god, his eyes - they’re glassing over. There’s still life left in them, a defiant spark against his fate, but it is merely a blip, destined to fade out.

Nyck feels Christian’s hands on him in the exact second Pierre’s eyes flutter closed, followed by a burst of fire and pain that erupts at the center of his neck. Just as soon as Christian’s arms had grabbed hold of him, they’re gone, and Nyck looks down to see blood pooling from his neck, dripping onto Pierre’s lifeless body on the ground. His heart roars viciously in his ears, pounding away and unhelpfully spilling more blood even quicker as his hands come up in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“What did - what did you -” Nyck sputters, stumbling on his feet as blood crowds his throat and pours from him quicker than he can attempt to stop it. He turns, and Christian is gone completely from sight. It’s almost like he dreamed him up, like he was never really there at all.

But the gaping wound in his neck says otherwise. As quickly as the blood spills, so too does his consciousness and strength wane. He sways slightly, before his knees completely buckle and he falls listlessly to the ground, ragdolled next to Pierre. Fear ignites in his veins, a strong sense of self preservation running through him as he tries to push through. 

But mere will alone is not enough to fight the demons of blood loss. It is not enough to clear his airway or keep his heart pumping in his chest. It was not enough for Pierre, either, whose body is cooling rapidly beside Nyck. This is not where he wants to die, this isn’t where he wants things to end –

But, he thinks hopelessly, it surely wasn’t where Pierre wanted his life to end, either.

“P-Pierre…” Nyck gasps, coughing out blood with a horrendous gurgling sound. He can’t breathe, oh he can’t breathe, and is this what Pierre felt only moments ago when he was gasping like a fish out of water to pull anything into his crowded lungs? If Nyck had the energy, he would be sick. “Pierre.”

Logically, Nyck knows Pierre is already dead. He watched him take his last breath, with Nyck’s name pressed against his dying lips. He can see the stillness of his chest, and yet he still desperately calls for something, anything.

Anything he can have, anything his slippery, bloody little hands can grab on to, not to die alone.

“Pierre!” he calls out again, desperately, spitting blood from his mouth in the process. His next inhale provides him with a lungful of blood, and he begins to choke feebly against the same forces that took Pierre from him.

The struggle for air hurts more than he ever imagined it could, the way his chest burns and aches and spasms for oxygen that can no longer make it in. His entire body shakes viciously with the need to breathe, god he just wants to breathe -

It’s only a few moments later his head hits the ground right next to Pierre’s, his lips only centimeters away from the shell of Pierre’s ear. He heaves a dry sob, which makes it no further than the drowning mess of his crushed lungs, and wheezes out, “Please. I’m so sorry, Pierre.”

His heartbeat stumbles, falters, and then halts as soon as the words leave his bloodstained lips.

.

“I truly must thank you boys for your time, commitment, and service to Red Bull Racing and Alpha Tauri. Unfortunately for you, it seems you were just not compatible. Those services will no longer be needed, and may you take your shameful display of performances with you to your grave.”

[mymelodymia]

"Powers?" Dad!tony stark x daughter!reader

*this is set back in 2012, after the battle of NY, reader is 12 here*

Summary: you are exposed to an alien liquid, causing in you getting powers.

Warnings: infection, alien stuff,

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

you were looking for your dad when you wandered into the lab in search for him, you saw Bruce studying some blue alien liquid when you asked him where your father was.

"Hey bruce, you know where my dad is?"

"No, i haven't seen him at all today"

"Mm" with that, you gave up, figuring he was going to come into the lab at some point. You started to try to repair you dads suit.

"Ow!" You winced in pain having cut yourself on accident,

Bruce was adding something to the liquid when he asked you to back up slightly, not wanting to accidentally hurt you, he put 4 drops in the liquid and it immediately started foaming violently, bruce tried covering the liquid with the lid to the container, he successfully got the lid on, till it burst.

It covered the table you and bruce were working on, including your Injury, bruce was completely protected from any harm from the liquid, you on the other hand were not, you were wearing a big t-shirt and sweats.

It started burning immediately, and bruce noticed this and panicked, trying to get it off of you. Given the fact that it was practically deadly. But it had already entered your blood stream, you soon felt light headed and passed out, bruce catching you,

"Jarvis get tony!" Bruce yelled out heading to the medbay, "on it sir"

+•°+*°•+

Tony was laying on the couch resting and watching TV when jarvis notified him

"mr stark dr banner has told me to tell you to head into the medbey immediately"

"Why?"

"Y/N has been exposed to a harmful substance and is currently unconscious" with that tony ran to the medbey as fast as he could. Upon seeing bruce hooking you up to wires broke his heart into a million pieces.

"What happened, is she okay?"

"I think, for now."

"What happened?" Tony asked a second time, growing impatient

"Y/N came into the lab and started repairing your suit and the substance exploded and it got in through a cut on her arm," bruce explained to tony with a serious tone.

Tony sat down next to you, feeling himself overwhelming, eyes downcast overthinking everything.

'She's gonna die'

'What am i gonna do'

'What if she doesn't wake up'

His racing thoughts were Interrupted by bruce, "calm down tony she's gonna be fine"

"Oh god, what am i gonna do" tony muttered to himself, scared was an understatement, terrified? You were his everything, his whole world, losing you would be like losing a part of himself. Now the only thing he could do was wait.

+•°+*°•+

It had been 3 days before Your eyelids fluttered before opening them fully, you looked around yourself, turning your head to the left you saw your father walking in with a cup of coffee, he looked as if he had just woken up, upon making eye contact with you, he immediately set down his drink on a small table to his right, jogging over to you, he gripped both of your shoulders,

"Hey baby, you feeling ok?" Tony asked with uncertainty

"Yeah, what happened?" That's when tony explained the same thing bruce said to him, that you were exposed to the liquid bruce was studying through the cut on your arm,

then bruce walked in, also looking like he just woke up, "shes awake?"

"Wait what do you mean shes awake" you asked growing confused,

"I thought i just blacked out"

"You've been out for 3 days hun" he dropped this information so casually that it made you become more confused then before

"Wha- ah, Huh!?"

Bruce and tony both chuckled at your sudden confusion, tony took you in his arms and kissed your forehead gently, bruce came forward to come and draw blood from the arm that got hit, It looked like you had a small infection but that was the least of yalls concerns.

A/N: I will make a part 2 soon, I just didn't want a super long fic, you know? <333

[ghoulinfuschia]

I finally made a Ko-Fi!!

I talked a while back about creating a Ko-Fi page and now it’s finally here! How I plan on using this page is uploading sketch/progress shots of art pieces. I also will be uploading storyboarding progress posts, such as thumbnails and (possibly) scripts. I always find it super helpful when artists post their progress stuff so I can see how they do what they do. I hope uploading my progress stuff will do the same for some folks. Since I can’t post any thumbnails from the MD fan Ep yet I’ll be uploading the progress pieces from my TADC animatic.

All donations are super appreciated <333 And if I need any help funding projects I’ll most likely post about it there.

I’ve already added my Kofi link to my pinned post. On another note, I’m going to begin looking into how to get a twitch channel running to do drawing streams! If anyone has any tips about that, I’d appreciate it so so SO much <33333

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 14: DREAM CATCHER - Episode 25: Full Power Ad Campaign

Izumi: (The performance is finally opening this weekend, but ticket sales are…)

Izumi: Uhhh…

Izumi: (They’ve increased since our last meeting, but weekdays are still are over the place.)

Izumi: (It’s honestly kinda scary that we can’t sell out, even with Tenma-kun’s clout…)

Izumi: There has been an increase not only in announcements for performances, but also special events, and when you add streaming into the mix, there’s no avoiding dispersion.

Izumi: (Since it’s come to this, we’ll definitely need an advertising campaign… I should consult Masumi-kun as well.)

Izumi: (I’d also like to increase our social media exposure for the New Fleur Award–)

[Flashback starts]

Ibuki: Sometimes I take long videos, edit them and upload them, but nowadays, most people mindlessly scroll through short videos, so they’re all hits.

[Flashback ends]

Izumi: — —

-

Kumon: Ah, there’s an article about the dress rehearsal!

Kazunari: Everyone got the job done as fast as always~

Yuki: Looks like it’s mostly well-received.

Misumi: … Grandpa, it’s almost time.

Muku: It must be nice to be able to talk to Hakkaku-san any time you want.

Misumi: Yup!

Izumi: Everyone, could I have some of your time?

Tenma: What’s up?

Izumi: I know this is very last minute, but I’d like for you to shoot a promotional video wearing your costumes.

Kazunari: Alrighties!

Kumon: What’re we doing? What’re we doing?

Muku: Uh, ummm, uhhh, some kind of one-shot?

Kumon: Imitation?

Misumi: Somersaults!

Tenma: Would that even count as advertising? It’d be better as a highlight.

Kazunari: More people are gonna want to look if there’s movement~

Yuki: Then how about a highlight digest?

-

Izumi: Yeah, this is perfect! I’ll upload it ASAP. Thanks, you guys!

Misumi: You’re welcome~!

Izumi: I hope this will get more people to come to watch… But there sure is a lot of competition.

Kazunari: Everyone’s been promoing all over Veludo Way lately~

Kumon: Ah, then–

-

Tenma: The opening performance for “Water me!! ~The 333-Year Promise~” is today!

Muku: We’re from MANKAI Company! Thank you very much!

Izumi: Never thought we’d be handing out flyers right before the performance…

Kumon: I thought it’d be a good warm up!

Kazunari: And we stand out since we’re wearing our costumes~

Yuki: If they get dirty, you’ll be cleaning them up yourselves.

Kumon: We’ll be careful…!

Misumi: “Water me!! ~The 333-Year Promise~” begins today~!

Passerby A: Ohhh, this starts today.

Passerby B: Oh, I checked it out, but forgot to buy a ticket!

Passerby A: There’s so many I want to see lately, making plans is like trying to make puzzle pieces fit.

Izumi: There are still available seats for weekdays, so feel free to buy a ticket!

Passerby B: I’m making a reservation online as we speeeaak—

[Bump]

Passerby B: —*gasp*

Misumi: Are you okay~?

Passerby B: The flyers…! I’m so sorry, I’ll pick them up!

Muku: It’s okay, we’ll gather them all.

Kazunari: Be careful~

Passerby: I’m really so sorry! Good luck at your performance!

Kazunari: Thankieees~!

Misumi: I’ll go pick up the flyers that went that way~!

Izumi: Thanks, I’ll leave it to you.

-

???: … A flyer?

???: MANKAI Company…

Café owner: Ah, good morning, Kureha-kun.

Café owner: I have to go shopping real quick, so can I leave the shop to you? We don’t have any customers at the moment.

Kureha: Alright.

Café owner: I’m counting on you.

Kureha: …?

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

[1016week]

1016 Week 2023 - The Round-Up (Part 1)

Hi fellow Piarlies, and happy holidays!! ❤️ Whatever you're celebrating IRL, we'd like to invite one and all to come celebrate Piarles with us here on Tumblr! 💙 Today, on the 26th (AKA, the 10+16th) we are celebrating our beloved squid boys by posting the final round-up of all content created for 1016 Week 2023.

One of our favourite things about fanweeks and fandom events is how they can bring together a whole group of people to create something amazing together. And in this fanweek, we certainly did that - with Piarlies from all corners of the fandom working together, we created more than fifty new pieces of Piarles content! 😍👏❤️💙Once again, we would just like to say the BIGGEST thank-you to everyone who participated and made this possible - you guys made this event succeed beyond our wildest dreams, and we truly can't thank you all enough for it <333

Please enjoy the official masterpost of all the 1016 Week 2023! Don't forget to give our wonderful creators some love in the form of reblogs, replies, kudos, comments and bookmarks ❤️ (P.S. - this post coincides very nicely with the timing of 2023's Just Leave A Comment Fest, so if you're interested in taking part in that wonderful event, and you've been looking for somewhere to start... why not with some of our amazing fics here? 😉💙)

Below the cut is Part 1 of our official round-up: you can find Part 2 here ❤️💙

Day 1 - Monza

Monza + Montreal embroidery by @gaslybottoms [cross-stitch]

you're my guiding lightning strike by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Pierre finds out the soulmate bracelet he's worn since he was 14 has been coded to the wrong person's DNA. He gets the right bracelet. (A Piarles soulmate AU)

all roads lead back to Monza ♥ by @brasiliangp [edit]

I Will Never Ask You For Anything (Except a Dream) by @espithewarlock [fic]

Monza is the one race a year where they are allowed to have each other. They do not talk about it the next day.

we've got our whole lives (no ending this in sight) by @duquesademiel and @chaesonghwas [fic]

On the night of their ninth anniversary, Charles and Pierre travel to Monza together.

sanctuary by @fenesacha [fic]

From the comfort of their shared bed, Pierre watches Charles lean over the railing of the balcony and reach out to the screaming fans below.

monza-themed web weaving by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

holy ground by @your-littlesecret [fic]

Charles can’t really pinpoint where Monza became their place. It might have started with one or another fan post and they just took it to their hearts. Or: Even with all the changes through the years, Monza will always be their place.

Day 2 - Social Media

we were meant to be as one by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Pierre & the librarian with a secret Tumblr account.

crushing down like waves on the sand by @your-littlesecret [fic]

There’s nothing that could explain the change in feelings, but if Charles thinks about it… if he really thinks about it, there’s nothing really new there.

seven rings by @duquesademiel [fic/edit]

With You Around Me It’s Just So Easy To Be In Love by @espithewarlock [fic]

Their relationship was no secret. They posted about it everywhere on social media. Nobody believed it.

Scuderia Ferrari social media admin AU by @effervescentdragon [fic]

"Mr. Gasly. You have an impressive portfolio, and your CV is one of the best I've seen. What I want to know is, what will you bring to this job? What is the thing that distinguishes you from all the other candidates for this job?"

Piarles + social media AUs by @brasiliangp [edit]

plug me in by @fenesacha [fic]

After a long race, Pierre logs into Twitch and clicks on Charles' stream.

you and me would be (a big conversation) by @chaesonghwas [fic/edit]

When the media pairs up Pierre with Esteban of all people, Charles steps in to help. It doesn't quite go as planned.

social media-themed web weaving by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

Day 3 - Blasphemy

maybe i don't want heaven by @chaesonghwas, @duquesademiel and @wolfiemcwolferson [fic + playlist]

Pierre kneels thrice: once in front of God and twice in front of Charles.

pulvis et umbra sumus by @your-littlesecret [fic + moodboard]

Great disrespect shown to something Holy. The action or offence of speaking sacrilegiously about sacred things; profane talk. And what could be a greater disrespect than Pierre and his demonic blood, loving Charles, an angel in essence?

Take Me by the Hand Before I Come Undone by @espithewarlock [fic]

Pierre believed in what he could see, hear, feel, experience with his own senses. He worshiped exclusively at the altar of Charles Leclerc.

piarles + take me to church by @singsweetmelodies [edit]

a well loved bicycle by @fenesacha [fic]

Pierre turns around one last time before he begins to pedal away. There is a boy standing at the fence, slightly shorter than him and Esteban. His fringe, light-brown and soft, is being blown into his eyes, but he doesn’t flinch, even as the freezing rain starts to fall. Pierre never saw or heard him approach.

blasphemy-themed web weaving by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

blasphemy embroidery by @gaslybottoms [embroidery]

Day 4 - Free Day

crochet calamars by @gaslybottoms [crochet]

I hunger for you only by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Charles has a request.

i wanna be a good boy, i wanna be your sex toy by @your-littlesecret [fic]

“I think we should make a bet.” Pierre hums, looking into his eyes. “Not a bet. A reward. Whoever has the first win this year-” Charles smiles deviously, like he’s just thought of the perfect reward. “Whoever wins first gets a ‘free use’ day of the other.” Pierre frowns, “A- free use day?” “Yes. A day where you can do whatever you want with me. Or me with you. Whatever.”

Coloring Outside the Lines by @espithewarlock [fic]

One male profile did catch his eye, a deceptively simple CharlesL16 username hiding exactly what he was looking for. Half the photos were perfectly innocent. Curled up on the couch in a comfortable sweater, sweaty and flexing at the gym, angled shots of him playing the piano, and more that made him look domestic and cozy. There was always a twist, though, and Pierre was instantly hooked. He found himself creating an account and subscribing almost unconsciously.

(i watched it) begin again by @chaesonghwas [fic]

When Juliette is 6 years old, they decide on taking her to Monza. She loves it.

ringing, it's too early by @duquesademiel [fic]

Pierre can't sleep. Charles can't wake up. They might fight about it, but in the end, they love each other more.

how d'ya like them apples by @fenesacha [fic]

Wearing one of these hands on each of your hands at all times, communicate to your teammate the names of these films. You may not raise your voice. You have five minutes. Your time starts when Jenson blows his whistle.

piarles + longing by @crimsonicarus [web weaving]

Our Love Is Not Illusion Based by @espithewarlock [fic]

Having magic wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Most of the adults would happily admit that having a Witch in the village was a good thing. Charles thought that Pierre's magic was a great thing.

❤️💙

[lemonpils]

Clear As Water - Lumine x Cyno

AN: thought id get high and write for a rare pair!! idk i just think they're cuties <333 ALSO SEMI SPICY??? NOTHING TOO BAD JUST HALF NAKEY LUMINE <333

Summary: Cyno and Lumine have started patrolling together around Sumeru. One day, the two go for a swim to cool off, and Cyno cant help but ogle.... and touch.

The heat was almost too much, at least for Lumine. Her steps got slower, her breathing got heavier, she wasn't used to this type of labor. In short, she hated it. But there was at least one thing that made the heat worth it. "Lumine, are you coming?" The white haired male called, he was a few yards ahead. "Yea, I'm coming- don't worry about me." She said with a huff. The white haired male, Cyno, had asked Lumine if she'd like to accompany his patrols for the week, and without a second thought she accepted. Why did she accept you ask? Not sure, maybe she enjoyed his company, his dry jokes, his endearing tone towards her, his smile, his eyes, his...

Never mind, that's not important.

"You look tired, we could sit for a bit, gather your strength." He said with a sly tone, he was somewhat amused at the fact that she wasn't handling the heat as well as he could. But maybe there was a part of him that was a tad worried, he never really saw the traveler so exhausted. "Mm, are you sure? I'd hate to make you late on patrols." She spurted out. In truth, she wanted to rest, but she'd hate to be a burden, especially in front of the General Mahamatra, so uncool. "No, its alright. We've been making good time, we have more than enough time to rest." He lightly smiled as he walked back to her, taking a piece of hair that had clung to her face and curled it behind her ear. "There's a small stream just around the corner of this cliff, why don't we go for a dip?" He offered. A tint of blush hit her cheeks, making her face look even more red. He smiled at her reaction, they had grown closer over the passed few months, this week was just a bonus. "That sounds lovely, I need to wash this layer of sweat off, I feel gross." "Heh, poor Lumine, how will she ever survive?" He said sarcastically.

"Shut up."

The pair made their way around the cliff, their eyes widening as they saw the water running down a grassy patch of the canyon, the perfect spot to cool off. Lumine was the first to sprint down, with an unusual amount of energy to what she had before. Cyno quietly chuckled at the sight, following behind her.

He watched as she got to the edge of the stream, she stripped herself of her shoes, then her socks, then her dress...

His face began to heat up, he couldn't process how she felt so comfortable to show- everything. Well, almost everything. She still had her bra and underwear on. "Are you not coming in?" Lumine asked, already in the water, a look of cooled bliss on her face. Cyno coughed out his slight moment of embarrassment, and nodded. "Yes, just give me a moment Lumine."

He stripped himself as well, till he was just in his shorts. Lumine ogled at his white hair, how it looked so much fuller without his hat on. "The waters so nice, you're missing out." She teased.

"I said I'm coming, missy." He scoffed with a smile, stepping into the water and sighing happily as the cool water began to lower his temperature. The two of them soaked in the stream, letting the water carry their heat and exhaustion away. Lumine took in Cyno's expression, carefree, relaxed, so peaceful. She adored it. "You look happy." She smiled. "I am." He lightly smiled back, flicking a bit of water at her. "Pfft, and why's that Cyno?" She teased. He kept his gaze at her eyes, oh how he loved her eyes. "Want me to be honest with you?" He spoke softly. "Always." Her mind was so clear, clear as water. "Because I've gotten to spend this whole week with you, you're quite beautiful Lumine." His light smile grew larger, a hint of blush could also be seen. Lumines breath hitched, what did he just say? Was he being for real? She couldn't believe the words he was saying, there was no way. Did Cyno actually feel that way about her? Did she feel the same...? "Do you mean that...?" She muttered out through her blush. "Yes, you shine brighter than a Lunar Lotus." Lumine leapt into his arms, the water splashed around them as she wrapped around his neck. She could feel her heart beating, she could hear it in her head. Why was she so happy? Maybe she was waiting for him to say something like that, to confirm that the feelings she was having were mutual.

"Lumine? Are you alright?" He asked. "Yea, just... I feel the same." He could feel her smile against his shoulder. "I assumed so, I'm glad." He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist. They stayed in each others embrace for what felt like eternity, it got to the point where Cyno could see the sunset approaching, they had to get moving soon. "Lumine, we have to start leaving." He spoke softly, not wanting to immediately kill the mood.

"Not yet." She spatted out.

"Lumine." He warned.

"Not yet Cyno, please." Her voice was so sweet at times. He smirked to himself, moving his arms so his hands were positioned at her flanks. "Last chance missy, we need to go." "I said no Cynohoahaha! W-Wahahait!" She spurted out giggles, splashing around as she felt Cyno's fingers beginning to wiggle and squeeze along her sides. "No fahair! Quihit ihihihit!" She squealed, how adorable. Cyno only cooed at her, taking in the heart warming sight before him. "Not going to happen, you tested my patience for too long." He smiled, a sweet and tender smile. His fingers worked his way up to her ribs, where he squeezed and prodded between them. "I didn't expect you to be this ticklish, dear." "Ahaha-! Cyno plehehease!" Her laughter raised in volume as he toyed with her ribs, making her squirm and splash even more. "Just a bit longer, I'm enjoying your laugh Lumine." He kept a firm hold on her ribs, and being chest deep in water only limited her movement even more. "Eheheha-! Ihihit tihihckles!" She just kept giggling. "That's the point, now tell me- how long have you felt this way about me?" He asked sweetly. "I dohohont know! I cahahant- tahahalk!" She whined through her laughter, he adored it. "You're talking right now silly, dont lie my dear. Your sins way upon your soul." He teased, jumping down to her hips as he kneaded and squeezed, causing a big reaction out of her. "PFFTAHA! Nohohoho! Not thehere!" She squealed. "Not there you say? How come?" He said sarcastically, making sure to keep a good hold on her, he wouldn't want his little giggle bug getting away. "AhahAHA-! Come ohohon!" She squealed as his fingers kept a latch on her hips, maybe this left him open. "Lumine, what are you- ah! Yohohou little-!" And just like that, the tables were turned, Lumines fingers hand found their way to Cyno's underarms, where she skittered her nails all around. His arms clamped down in response to her sudden action, trapping her hands in as she continued to tickle. "Gotcha'! Not so fun is it huh?" She giggled, watching as he crumbled in the water, letting out the cutest whines and giggles himself. "Nohoho! Stop ihihit! Luhuhmine!" "Yes Cyno?" "I'm sohorry ok!? You cahahahan stop nohohow!" He pleaded. She smiled as he tried to get her hands out, but alas- it was no good. "I don't think you mean that Cyno, and remember what you said! Lying is bad~" She teased, pushing her thumbs into his upper ribs, a spot she knew was bad, thanks to Tighnari. "LUHUHUMINE-!" "Are you realllly sorry?" She cooed. "YEHEHES-! I SWEHEHEHEAR!" He begged through his laughter, the water splashed as he struggled, crashing into Lumines face. She decided to have some sympathy and stop, watching him catch his breath. "You okay?" She asked sweetly.

"You- are such a tease..." He huffed, smiling at her. "And you're not? Serves you right." He chuckled, swiftly picking her up bridal style. "Shut it missy, lets get going." He carried her out of the stream, and into a new found world of love.