#thank you again for being so patient with me :((

[anon-188]

tradition

pairing: clark kent x f!reader | genre: fluff | wc: 0.8k

summary: clark grew up with home videos. you decided to keep the tradition going.

warnings: established relationship, FLUFF, pregnancy themes (bonus), written in headcanon/multiple scenarios style.

- a/n: just a little something while i finish up my other works for the week! thanks for being patient ♡// (gif/photo creds: @olympain)

Clark often shared his childhood memories with you, little moments he held onto with quiet affection. You could tell how much they meant to him, the way his voice softened whenever he mentioned his parents or the farm.

So when he brought up how they used to film home videos—grainy footage, clunky camcorder, someone narrating everything in the background—you got an idea.  

You walked into the kitchen with the camera already rolling. Clark stood at the stove, stirring something that smelled way too good, completely unaware.

“It should be done in a few—” he said, then looked up.

His brows lifted the second he saw the camera pointed at him. A soft laugh slipped out, low and surprised. “What are you doing?”

“Continuing tradition,” you said, grinning as you zoomed in just a little.

“Tradition?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Picking up where your parents left off. Home videos—grown-up edition. We’re seriously lacking in flannel though, but we’ll work on it.”

That made him laugh, full and wide, his head tilting back slightly as it broke out of him.

And you made sure to catch every second of it.

One morning you pulled out the camera, letting it record as you stepped toward Clark’s side of the bed. The sheets were rumpled, his arm draped over the edge, morning light slipping softly through the curtains. His dark hair was a mess against the pillow, sticking up in a few stubborn directions.

He stirred at the sound, squinting one eye open, voice gravelly. “You filming me?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, smiling behind the lens.

A lazy smile tugged at his lips. He let out a low laugh, then shifted toward you, one hand sliding around your waist, hauling you back toward the bed.

“Wait!” you yelped, the camera slipping from your grip as he pulled you on top of him.

You laughed as you landed, tangled in the sheets and in him.

"Morning," he mumbled, pressing you closer to his chest.

“Good morning,” you whispered back. Then you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips—the kind that lingered. Somewhere on the bed, the camera kept rolling, quietly forgotten.

You hit record, camera aimed at the front door just as it opened with a soft creak. You were grinning already, half expecting to catch Clark mid-yawn, tie loosened, maybe muttering something about the coffee machine being slow again.

But the second he stepped inside, your eyes went wide.

“Clark!”

A streak of red and blue flashed across the screen as you gasped and fumbled with the camera, jerking it away just in time. The lens caught nothing but the trailing edge of his cape before it ended on a blur of drywall and your hand, Clark's low chuckle just barely audible in the background.

Of course you filmed the quiet days, the holidays, the special occasions. But Clark caught on quick—noticed how the camera was always pointed at him.

So naturally, he had to fix that.

You were standing in the doorway one night, camera in hand, watching him brush his teeth—shirtless, hair still damp from his shower.

He glanced at you in the mirror, foam at the corners of his mouth, and smiled around the toothbrush.

Without a word, he reached out, tugging you gently toward him. You laughed, stumbling a little as his arm wrapped around you. He took the camera from your hand with ease, flipping it toward the mirror until both of you were in frame.

“You’re supposed to be in these too, you know,” he mumbled around the toothbrush, voice muffled but amused.

You leaned into him, cheeks flushed with laughter, as he gave the camera a crooked little grin.

The camera caught everything—your laugh, the way he rested his chin against your head, the moment he kissed your temple, toothpaste and all.

And when you watch them all back—those quiet, flickering glimpses of a life stitched together with laughter and kisses half caught on film—he never fails to remind you.

Of all his memories, you’re his favorite.

⟢ bonus! 

The camera shakes a little as Clark adjusts it. You’re in the kitchen, one hand resting on your belly, the other reaching for a bowl on the shelf. Still wearing his oversized T-shirt.

He zooms in—softly, slowly.

And then his voice, warm and steady from behind the lens:

“And this one’s for you.”

A pause.

“That’s your mom. She doesn’t know I’m filming right now—she’d probably throw something at me if she did.”

He chuckles under his breath.

“But she sings to you in the mornings. Craves the weirdest food combinations I’ve ever seen. And she already loves you more than anything.”

You glance over your shoulder, catching him—and roll your eyes.

“Clark.”

“Just say hi,” he grins. “It’s for the baby.”

You shake your head, laughing—but your expression softens.

And then your voice drops, quiet and sure.

“Hi, baby,” you murmur to the bump, hand resting gently on your belly.

Then a whisper from behind the camera:

“You and her—my whole world right there.”

please do not repost, copy, or claim my work as your own.

• tag list: @sophiethelesbian @floufli @yeonalie

if you want to be tagged in my future posts, comment or message me! i’m happy to do it! :) just let me know if you want all works or just for specific characters <3

• links: masterlist | wattpad | summer request fest

[wildflowersandvibranium]

✷ My Superhero ✷ [Drabble]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: A movie date to see the new Superman turns into a reminder that your real-life superhero—cape or not—is Bucky Barnes.

Word Count: 900+

Content: Light suggestive content (kissing/makeout session in a public theater) Mild language , Fluff and romantic teasing , Brief jealousy and possessiveness (playful, not aggressive)

a/n: emptying out my drafts <3 credit for idea was based on this post!

masterlist -- requests/inbox open!

You had talked about it for weeks now. The new Superman movie was finally out, and it wasn’t just any Superman. It was the one—rebooted , fresh-faced , square-jawed , with perfect hair and height you could probably climb right up.

Every single preview and trailer so far had made your heart do that stupid little skip , and every single time , Bucky had grumbled something under his breath about CGI muscles and cheap capes.

Which was rich , considering your boyfriend was built like a superhero.

“I still can’t believe I got you to agree to this,” you chirped , bouncing on your heels as you both waited in the long line for concessions.

“I agreed under one condition,” Bucky replied, eyeing the unnecessarily expensive menu above the counter. “You let me get popcorn and a giant drink.”

You smirked. “Done , soldier. That slushie’s bigger than my head though. You’re not gonna share?”

He turned his blue eyes on you and raised a brow. “You think I’m drinking "very berry strawberry blast" or whatever that thing is? No thanks. I’ll stick to my Coke Zero like a grown-up.”

You giggled as he finally reached the counter. The kid behind it looked barely sixteen and definitely overwhelmed. Bucky, despite being broad-shouldered and eternally intimidating to anyone under the age of 30, was surprisingly patient with the boy.

“One large popcorn, extra butter. Coke Zero. And… the berry-blast for my girl,” he added with a soft smile , jerking his thumb back at you.

The teen nodded , stammering--a little star struck as he typed it in.

You leaned in and whispered, “Don’t forget the candy.”

“Already got it,” Bucky said, revealing the hidden pack of sour gummies in his coat pocket like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.

“And you’re cute,” he shot back, smug grin and all placing a quick kiss to your head.

✷

Ten minutes later , you were both seated in the plush back row of the theater , drinks in cup holders , popcorn balanced between you , your legs slung over Bucky’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You’d been dating for just under a year , but sometimes it still felt new—exciting in that way where your heart beat faster for no reason, where your palms got warm when his hand found yours in the dark.

He kissed your temple just before the previews rolled.

“Let me know when you’ve had enough popcorn,” he murmured, “I’ll finish it off.”

“Bucky, you always finish it off,” you whispered back eyes not leaving the now playing previews.

“That’s love , sweetheart. Me sacrificing my cholesterol for your entertainment.”

You snorted and turned toward the screen completely as the lights begin to dim.

✷

Halfway through the movie , things got a little out of hand.

It wasn’t your fault—really. He had his arm around your shoulders, you had leaned into him, and somehow, his hand had migrated to cup your cheek. Warm. Large. Teasing. You turned to whisper something about the CGI cape physics being off , and then suddenly his lips were on yours.

It started soft. A slow brush. Then a little firmer. He tasted like soda and sugar and something distinctly Bucky.

You pulled back, grinning against his mouth. “We’re gonna get caught.”

“It’s dark,” he muttered, his hand pinching your cheekbone lightly. “And I can’t take you drooling over some blue-eyed alien anymore.”

You laughed, curling a hand around the nape of his neck, pulling him back to you. “Jealous, Barnes?”

“Heck yes, I am.”

He kissed you again—deeper this time. Messier. Like he was nineteen and trying to impress the girl in the back of the theater. Like he wasn’t a hundred and-something and fully aware that making out during a Superman reboot was peak romance cliché.

You loved it.

The movie went on mostly ignored after that. You stole kisses like popcorn, one after another, barely able to wipe the stupid grin off your face.

✷

Outside, the summer air was warm and electric, the neon glow of the cinema sign flickering above your heads. Bucky reached for your hand as you walked to the car, his thumb tracing circles across your knuckles.

“So,” he said, bumping your hip playfully. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

You stretched your arms over your head, sighing dramatically. “Mmm. Superman was very heroic. Very strong. Very noble. And that jawline…”

Bucky groaned, pulling his hand away.

You laughed immediately. “Oh, come on , he’s fictional!”

“Fictional, my ass,” Bucky muttered. “Blue eyes, dark hair, super strength, military ethics , sound like someone you know?”

“Wow. So humble,” you teased, stepping in front of him and poking his chest. “You comparing yourself to Superman now?”

He caught your finger in his hand and gently tugged you close. “You were the one practically swooning the whole time. I’m just reminding you…” He lowered his voice, eyes serious but soft. “You’ve got the real deal. Right here. Flesh and blood. No cape.”

You tilted your chin up, smirking. “So what you’re saying is—you’re my superhero?”

Bucky leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in the softest, surest way. His breath was warm against your mouth when he whispered, “Dang right I am.”

You melted, absolutely melted, into that kiss. Then smiled into it.

“Good,” you whispered back, “because you’re my favorite superhero.”

Bucky pulled away just enough to look at you, his grin smug, his cheeks flushed.

“Dang right I am,” he repeated, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he led you to the car.

And you were sure of it—no cape, no laser vision, no perfect jawline could compare to Bucky Barnes.

Your favorite superhero. Always.

-end

Comments , Reblogs , Likes and Requests are always loved!

(although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience)

They let me know that you are enjoying what I'm publishing and gives me motivation to write more and more! :33

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hiiiii! omg i really really love your work <3

i was wondering if i could request smth angsty/fluff with jeongin… idk if you’ve noticed but he really doesn’t like physical touch UNLESS he initiates it or he feels like the person needs it, so i was wondering if i could request a jeongin x f!reader where he really doesn’t notice but he’s been pushing the reader off, like, every time the reader tries to hug him or tries to hold his hand, he unconsciously pushes her away and avoids any type of physical touch, until she stops and he starts wondering what happened, he confronts her and she tells him everything, and ends with fluff

please please please and thank you so much 💕💕

- L

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! <3 I hope you enjoy!! 💕

It started small.

You barely noticed it at first - the way Jeongin’s shoulders would stiffen when your fingers brushed his. Or how he’d lean just slightly away when you tried to cuddle up on the couch. You’d giggle, thinking he was just being shy. It was cute, honestly.

But then it kept happening.

Every time you tried to hold his hand, he’d find something else to do. When you leaned your head on his shoulder, he’d shift just enough that you’d pull away. Hugs were quick, one-armed, almost transactional. And kisses? Unless he started it, they were rare.

At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. You knew he wasn’t naturally touchy. Jeongin was thoughtful, patient, a little awkward sometimes - but so, so good to you in every other way. It was honestly a blessing to you that he chose you- out of the countless other admirers he was sure to have.

But over time, it chipped away at you. You didn’t need constant affection, but God, you just wanted to feel wanted. And by him pulling away it made you feel as if he didn't want you. And no matter how much you knew he did, you couldn't convince that voice in your head.

So, you stopped trying after a while. Not out of anger - just exhaustion. And worry that if you kept trying it would annoy Jeongin. There’s only so many times you can reach for someone who doesn’t reach back. And only so many times before they'd become annoyed.

So when you sat next to him now, you made sure to keep your hands to yourself. You didn’t lean in. You didn’t touch him. You smiled when he looked at you, laughed at his jokes, acted normal.

And maybe that’s what hurt the most - how easy it was for him to not notice.

Or so you thought.

Jeongin noticed quite quickly. He didn't say anything until three days later, though.

You were watching a movie on his couch, some old rom-com he’d pretended to hate but secretly really liked. Usually, you’d be curled into his side by now. But tonight, you sat perfectly straight, legs tucked underneath you, hands folded in your lap.

He reached for the popcorn between you and brushed your hand by accident. You didn’t move towards him. Matter of fact you didn’t react at all until his hand was out of the bowl, and yours moved to tuck with the other one in your lap.

That’s when something clicked.

He hadn't questioned it much the past few days, he figured you weren't seeking his embrace and he figured maybe he had done somthing wrong. So he was on his best behavior.

But now seeing you pull away as well?

He glanced at you, frowning. You had to be mad.

But...

You looked…fine. Too fine.

And that’s when he realized -you weren’t upset.

Not in the angry way, at least.

You were still enthusiastic about spending time with him. Still laughing, still talking. (Jeongin had faced your anger before - he knew what it looked like. This wasn’t that.)

He’d assumed you were upset. That he must’ve done something wrong. So he’d kept his head down. Tried to be better. Tried not to press as he thought he should. But now… watching you pull away again?

You weren’t mad. You were distant.

Did I do something? Did Y/N fall out of love?

His stomach twisted.

“Y/N-ah?” he said softly.

“Yeah?” You didn’t look away from the screen.

“Did I…do something? Do you not like me anymore?”

You blinked, then turned to look at him in shock. “What?”

“You’re acting different,” he said. “You haven’t…I don’t know. You just feel far away. So I was wondering if there is something I did...or could do better? To fix whatever issue I made...”

You stared at him, quiet. Then finally: “You didn't do anything. I just figured that’s how you wanted it.”

His heart stuttered. "What? How I wanted what to be?”

You took a breath. “I know physical touch isn’t really your thing - and that’s okay. I get it. So I just thought maybe I'd stop reaching out. But it’s hard, you know? Every time I tried to get close, you pulled away. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable anymore. So… I stopped. But I'm...that's how I show my love, I like being close and...but for you I'm willing to not do that.”

Silence.

“I didn’t even realize I was doing that,” he whispered.

Shame bubbled in his chest - thick and cold. You had always been so gentle with him. So patient.

And he hadn’t realized.

He thought back on every time you'd reached for him and how he’d pulled away. Not because he didn’t want you.

No he wanted you.

But because…it was instinct. A reflex he hadn’t unlearned yet.

His body had flinched before his heart could catch up.

And even if it wasn’t on purpose it still left a mark.

You’d felt rejected.

Over and over again.

And you hadn’t complained. You just stopped reaching. For him.

Because you cared and loved him enough to give up something that was so you. That was your form of love and communication.

He hated that.

Hated that he hadn’t seen it.

Hated that you were the one who bent, while he stayed the same tucked away in his comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry for having boundaries.”

“But I do,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I should’ve noticed. I never meant to make you feel unwanted.”

“I know. Its not a huge deal...” You said quietly.

His throat tightened. “Yes it is. And I don’t want you to stop trying.”

You raised a brow. “Huh?”

“I mean - I want to try too,” he said. “I know I’ve been bad at showing it. But I do want to be close to you. I guess I’m just…slow at breaking old habits. But I’m learning. And I don’t want you to think you have to tiptoe around me. I don't want you to think I don't want what you want. Because I do.”

Your lips parted, surprised.

“Please don’t stop reaching for me,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Even if I flinch. Or hesitate. Or mess it up. I want you to. I want to learn. With you."

Your eyes softened. “Jeongin…”

“I’ll get better,” he promised. “But only if you don’t give up on me.”

Something cracked open in your chest - that familiar ache spilling out, not as pain this time, but as relief.

You leaned forward slowly, eyes locked on his. “Can I hug you?”

Jeongin didn’t hesitate.

He reached out first. Arms around your waist, pulling you in like he’d been waiting for this moment all along. And maybe he had.

His chin rested on your shoulder. His breath was warm against your neck - steady and real.

He held you tighter than he ever had before.

“I missed this,” he murmured.

“Me too.” you whispered back.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “I’m gonna do better.”

You smiled, eyes glassy. “You already are.”

And this time, when you leaned in to kiss him -

He met you halfway.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @staytinyarmy @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy @lezleeferguson-120 @enhacolor @madirye062

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[demonsslayersstuff]

Needs (Giyuu Tomioka x FemReader)

Description: After a long mission, you just want your husband.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex. Slight mentions of blood and some fluff. Written with female reader in mind.

A/N: Decided to ease back into longer fic writing with my favorite water boy. Haven’t written smut in a bit so I apologize if it’s a bit rough. Enjoy!

Three days, that’s how long it’s been since you’ve been home. Since you’ve seen your husband. As you wipe the demons blood off your face you crave for the Water Hashira’s touch, wishing it was his hands that gingerly swept across your forehead. You sigh deeply, hoping you were finally done with this godforsaken mission. You knew you had a job to do, to protect the innocent and save lives, but you hated being parted from Giyuu for long periods of time.

You look over, the moonlight glinting off Tengen’s “flashy” headband causing your eyes to squint. “Are we done here?”, you ask him. “I think so”, he responds his eyes looking towards the demon, watching as it finally burns away into the night sky. “Thank god”, you murmur, sheathing your katana. “If that’s all, then I’d like to get home”, you continue, voice a little louder. Tengen gives you a knowing smile, “Missing someone?”, he questions coyly. “As a matter of fact yes, I am. It’s been three days and seeing as you have three wives you of all people should know a girls got needs”, you respond, preferring to be blunt over playing Tengen’s little games. The Sound Hashira laughs aloud, “Then what are you still doing here?”, he asks. You give him a small wave before taking off, any mission debriefing will have to wait until tomorrow, you had more important things to do.

***

The door creaks as you push it open and then shut, not really caring to be quiet, even at this late hour. “Yu?”, you call out, knowing he’d be awake. Even though you’d been gone for three days, you knew he’d be awake, waiting patiently for you. The Water Hashira pokes his head out from the bedroom. “Hey, how are you-“, he starts but is quickly cut off as you march over to him, pulling him into a deep kiss. You knew you needed to go and bathe, to get out of your blood and sweat soaked Corps uniform. But you frankly didn’t care, at this exact moment all you wanted was your husband’s lips on yours.

Giyuu “humps”, into the kiss, slightly surprised at your sudden boldness. But as he feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, he doesn’t question your decision. His hands grab your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. After a few minutes he leans back breathlessly, “What’s brought this on?”, he asks, dark blue eyes looking down into yours. “You”, you say chasing his lips, kissing them again briefly. “I’ve missed you so much”, you continue, pulling back slightly. “I’ve been thinking about you this moment for three fucking days, please just let me have this”, you whine.

Giyuu chuckles at your neediness, his calloused hand cupping your cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up first and then you can have me all you want”, he tells you with a soft peck before pulling you towards the bathroom. Your clothes are shed a moment later as you step into the hot water, giving Giyuu a look that tells him he has no choice but to join you. You watch as he slips into the bath a few minutes later admiring his well toned body, arousal pooling in your lower belly. You didn’t need to touch yourself to know you were already soaked down there and it was not from the bath water.

You straddle his waist seconds later, sighing as your naked bodies brushed against each other. “I really don’t want to wait Yu”, you murmur leaning down to plant kisses against the hollow part of his throat. By now you’d managed to wash away what was left from your mission and you didn’t think had much more patience left. “Then don’t”, he simply tells you, his hands moving to cup your rounded breasts. You sit back rolling your hips against him, moaning as Giyuu leans down flicking his tongue against your nipple. Your fingers thread through his dark locks pressing him closer to your chest. His hot breath fans against you as he lets your breast go with a soft pop. “Fuck me please”, you groan, still grinding against him.

Giyuu hears the raw need in your voice so he moves, suddenly lifting you from the hot water, placing you on the cool edge. “Fuck your so wet already”, he says, fingers slipping into with ease. “Please”, you cry out again as his fingers scissor your dripping cunt. You needed him, needed to feel his thick cock fill you up in a way only he can. Giyuu wastes no more time, lining his member up against you, quickly pumping himself a few times. The moment you feel his head against your entrance you give into your desire, wrapping your legs around his waist, rutting your hips up, crying out in pleasure as his cock slides into your wet core with ease. “Fuck love”, Giyuu groans loudly, hands gripping the side of the tub for a moment to brace himself at your unexpected movement.

“I missed this feeling”, you whimper out. “Missed you so much Yu”, you continue arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Giyuu places a quick kiss to your forehead, “I’ve got you”, he mutters before pulling his hips back only to thrust into you seconds later with such force that you cry out, nearly falling off the edge had his hands not been bracing you. “Hang on”, he groans, keeping himself buried deep inside of you as he steps out the tub. Water splashes against the ground, but neither of you mind. “Fuck it, I’m taking you right here”, Giyuu says. He had planned on moving you to the bed, but the way you were continuing to flex up into him had turned his brain into mush.

And so Giyuu Tomioka fucks you on the bathroom floor, not that you really care. Your body arches up into his with each calculated thrust. Incoherent sounds spew from your mouth as his cock slams into you. You were close, there was no way you’d last much longer with the way he was fucking you on the cold hard ground. Being away from him for three days made you sensitive to his touch. “Let go baby”, Giyuu groans out, he could already feel you tightening around him. “Yu…”, you cry, forcing your eyes open, wanting to see his face. “Kiss me”, you managed to say sloppily as you rock against him. His lips crash down onto yours, teeth knocking together at his hurried movements. Your body lets go seconds later, mind going blank as you get lost in his touch. Giyuu comes a few more thrust later, your name falling from his lips as he spews into your core, his seed filling you in the most satisfying way.

Giyuu falls against you panting as you litter kisses across any part of his skin your lips could reach. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes, the only sounds are the labored breaths that fall from your husband’s mouth. “Stay”, you tell him later, feeling him begin to pull out. “Just a few more minutes, let me have this please”, you continue. Giyuu nods against your neck, too tired to speak, content to stay where he was. Steam from the forgotten bath wisps through the air as the two of you continue to lay on the tiled floor, too tired to move. You knew you’d need to get up eventually, but with the way Giyuu was nestled deep inside of you, you couldn’t care less.

[notsodelirious]

enjoy this very short Jason drabble I wrote last night <3

explicit, mdni <3

Jason is the type to fuck you slowly and deeply. He cherishes you, worships your body even when the lights are low and you’re burying your face into the pillows, moaning his name softly. 

He grabs your hips, waist, pulls you infinitely closer to him, and close just isn’t close enough even as he fucks into you and kisses the back of your neck. 

His voice is soft as he praises you, heavy in his chest and tight in his throat, all while he makes you unravel at the seams, holding you against him as he brings you closer to the edge. 

His hands run along your ribs, down your hips to your thighs, he’s so enthralled by the gentle tremble in your legs as he finally manages to make you tip over the edge, his name on your lips like a prayer, back bowed as you desperately try to rock into him. 

He thanks you quietly for being so kind, so patient as his own pace quickens and he’s coming inside you, moaning into your shoulder. 

He only chuckles when you wipe away his tears when you roll over to face him—and then bury yourself in his arms after he assures you he’s fine. 

Jason is the type to wonder how he became the luckiest man alive to have you safe and warm in his arms. 

I swear I’m working on requests, just thought I would share this short piece instead of letting it collect dust in my drafts <3 also thank you to @arkham-prince for being my beta again, ily ₊˚⊹♡

anyway, more from me here (masterlist + wips list ❀˖°) — for requests please check this post✧˖° thank you

[hargreeves-duncan]

hey i saw that youre writing for bucky. could you write one for 40s bucky with reader when shes also in the army and he meets her there. and she keeps rejecting him and not falling for his lines because she had a boyfriend but then he breaks up with her over a letter and she goes to some bar or anywhere where she can get drunk. and bucky is also there and they end up talking and he teaches her how to dance and they kiss and its all fluffy and stuff. i hope youre happy and healthy 😀

visual is for vibes only, reader’s appearance is nondescript!

pairing: 1940s!bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky teaches you how to dance when your boyfriend falls short

warnings: alcohol consumption

word count: 2.4k

a/n: thank you for your request and for being so patient!! i hope you enjoy this fluff🥰🥰

P.S whilst you’re here, feel free to send in a Kinktober 2025 request - you can find my prompts here

Bucky didn’t get it.

You were one of the most intelligent and beautiful women that he’d ever met.

So, why the hell were you still wasting time on some pretentious, rich boy from back home?

Some Princeton-educated, poetry-quoting, whiskey-swilling paper soldier who probably spent more time combing his hair than cleaning his boots. You had enlisted yourself in the army, and your coward of a boyfriend hadn’t even done so.

He’d never met the guy, of course. But that didn’t stop him from judging. He knew exactly what kind of man your boyfriend was - from the letters that showed up on your desk, sealed with perfect handwriting and written on perfumed paper no self-respecting man would ever admit to using.

Bucky had tried to be subtle about his affection at first. To charm you. Win you over with the classic Barnes smile. Pull out the old lines that always worked on the girls back in Brooklyn.

But every time, you saw straight through him.

“You know,” Bucky had said one afternoon, dropping his medical evaluation on your desk, “I’ve been thinking.”

You hadn’t looked up from the paperwork you were adding to, “Dangerous.”

He had smirked, “So quick. That boyfriend of yours must have a hard time keeping up.”

“He manages just fine.” you’d said dryly. Your lips had twitched, like you were fighting a smile.

“Right. What’s his name again? Tommy? Toby?”

“Desmond.” you corrected.

Only a mother who hated his son would name him that, Bucky had thought to himself.

“I should’ve known,” he’d leant on your desk.

“Here, let me take a crack at it. He calls you ‘darling’ in every letter and signs off with something awful like ‘forever yours’? Still lives with his mother, probably. And not in the sweet way. In the douchebag way.”

You’d paused long enough for Bucky to know that he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” you’d huffed in flustered frustration.

“Not really.” he’d taken and a seat and kicked his boots up onto the edge of your desk, “Thought I’d come keep you company. You looked lonely.”

Not even looking up from your typewriter, you’d brushed his boots off the desk. Again. Bucky had kept them there anyway.

“I look busy, Sergeant Barnes. There’s a difference.”

“You look like someone who needs a distraction.”

You’d given him a long, unimpressed look, “Trust me, if I needed a distraction, I’d choose something quieter.”

But no amount of disapproving looks could stop Bucky from showing up to pester you.

Even though, every time Montgomery dropped off another one of those cream-colored envelopes, something sour stirred in his chest.

And every time you smiled at those overly-complicated love sonnets inside, a little piece of him died. As dramatic as it sounded.

“L/N! Got another mail delivery for ya!” Montgomery grinned, slapping your third letter of the week onto your desk.

Your head shot up from where you were weaving through the list of men on this month’s payroll.

“You’re awfully popular, Corporal,” Colonel Phillips observed from his own desk beside yours. Even in the open tent, he somehow managed to make you burn with embarrassment.

“Yes, Colonel,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably before slipping the envelope into your drawer without a second glance.

Bucky, however, was giving it plenty.

“That the boyfriend?” he asked, sidling up to you with that infuriating smirk of his.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face, “It sure is, Sergeant. So, don’t even bother.”

For as long as you’d been a clerk in the 107th, Bucky had been circling, like a shark in bloody waters.

Of course, being one of the only women on-base meant almost every guy did, but Bucky wanted you more than any of them. He was relentless and unfortunately charming.

“I wasn’t gonna bother,” he said, raising his hands innocently and grinning like a madman, “I’m not that kind of guy. You know that, doll.”

You scooted away, moving your paperwork to the side and sending him a pointed look as he leant over your desk, “You’re dripping your sweat all over my files, Sergeant.”

“You love it.”

“Not as much as I’d imagine you like being paid.” you countered with a sarcastic smile.

He chuckled, stepping back in mock surrender, “Touché.”

As you returned to cross-checking your files, you didn’t notice Bucky sneaking a hand into your desk drawer.

He was going for the letter.

“Hey!” you shrieked, lunging forward to try and grab it, but Bucky was already backing away with a victorious grin.

You shot out of your chair, chasing him into the middle of camp and feeling like a child as you jumped futilely into the air to snatch your letter from his reach.

“Sergeant Barnes! You give me that letter this instant!”

“I will, I will.” he insisted, trying to contain his laughter, “I just wanna have a little read first.”

You groaned in protest as he tugged his index finger through the envelope, unfolded the letter and read aloud, “My darling…”

“That’s a pretty nice start. Bit cheesy, but I don’t hate it.” Bucky mused, as if reading the paper.

“Sergeant.” you cast him a warning shot.

You hadn’t cared so much when Bucky had stolen your letters before. You’d even let him read one out loud once, when you’d been bored and feeling generous. But this time, your chest felt tight. Something was wrong and you weren’t yet sure why.

“I can’t quite believe that I’m having to tell you this via letter. I so desperately wish things were different and that I were at your side but, alas, they are not.”

Bucky snorted, “Alas? A fancy boy? Didn’t take you for the type, Corporal.”

Then his tone shifted.

“Dearest, it is with the utmost sadness that I must break things off with you…”

Bucky trailed off. His grin faded. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Your shoulders sagged and your arms fell limp at your sides.

The crowd that had formed around you went quiet.

“What?”

Bucky looked up from the letter, his expression sobering as he saw the confusion and pain on your face.

“Doll… I’m so sorry.”

It was completely out of the blue. Just days earlier, you’d been receiving love letter, after love love letter.

You didn’t cry. You wouldn’t, not in front of them.

Not when you’d been trying so hard to prove that you could handle this job just as well as any of the manchildren of the regiment. But your face felt hot and your chest was tight and that stupid letter had knocked more air out of you than a punch ever could.

Without a word, you snatched it back from Bucky’s hands, shoved it into your pocket, and marched off. It didn’t matter that you’d lost composure and you certainly didn’t care where you were going.

All you knew was that you needed a drink.

It took you exactly three shots of the liquor they were serving at the makeshift bar downtown to stop caring how badly it burned on the way down.

You weren’t crying.

You just happened to be drinking alone, slouching a little further into your seat than usual and cradling your shot glass like it were a small child.

To put it plainly, you’d seen better days than the one you were currently spending curled up on a barstool.

And the only thing, or rather, person, that could’ve made it worse had just walked in.

Bucky stepped into the bar, glancing around. He was probably looking for Rogers, you thought to yourself, those two were practically glued at the hip.

But he was making a beeline straight for you.

You didn’t bother sparing him a glance as he slid into the stool beside you and rested his frustratingly attractive forearms on the bar.

For a while, he didn’t push. He ordered his drink - a Tiger Beer - and sat beside you in silence, nursing it.

It was strange.

Most of the men in the 107th didn’t come anywhere near you unless they wanted their paperwork done properly or fancied having a flirt.

But Bucky seemed perfectly content to just sit in silence with you.

Eventually, you looked over at him.

He leaned in slightly, his voice oddly gentle, like he was scared that you’d pull away, “You wanna talk about it?”

You let out a soft, bitter laugh, downing the rest of your drink, “Not with you.”

His comfort, as uncharacteristic as it was for a soldier, wasn’t exactly welcome right now.

He nodded slowly, swirling the beer in his glass, “Fair.”

He let out a breath, his fingers peeling at the label, “For what it’s worth, you’re better off without him.”

You scoffed under your breath, “You didn’t even know him.”

“I didn’t need to.” he shrugged, sliding your glass away from you, “Any man who lets a girl like you go in a letter doesn’t deserve you. It’s that simple.”

“Really, Barnes? You’re trying to make a move on me now, of all times?” you rolled your eyes and reached for your glass.

“Hey, it isn’t like that,” he said, holding it firm against the counter, “Doll, I’m telling you this because I think you’re a good, sweet girl. Not just because I want to get into your pants.”

You gave him a sharp look, but he only nudged your leg, moving the glass further out of reach.

“You said ‘not just’. That means it’s at least one of the reasons.”

You were nitpicking his language, yes, but you were still a little mad at him. It was allowed.

“Jesus, have a little faith in humanity, why don’t you? I really think you’re a swell girl,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well, forgive me, but it’s not really been a faith in humanity day for me.”

Bucky didn’t answer straight away. He just hummed in agreement, tapping his fingers on the bartop.

Then, a beat later, “Yeah, that’s on me for saying it. Of course, it hasn’t. I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what to do with that. He was empathising with you and admitting his part in things. It was freakishly disarming.

“It’s alright, I’m just sour about it. I bought into all his ‘forever yours’ bullshit and I feel like a fool, so I’m lashing out about it.” you confessed.

Bucky shook his head, looking at you without the usual teasing glint in his eye.

“Doesn’t make you a fool,” he said, “It makes you someone who wanted to believe in something good.”

“And I get it, you know,” he added, kinder now, “The world’s gone to hell. We all want to think we’ve got someone out there, writing us poems and waiting by a window.”

That got a smile out of you.

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” you mused, tilting your head towards him, “Do you have somebody waiting in Brooklyn?”

He shook his head, letting out a wry chuckle, “Not anymore.”

“Looks like we’re in the same boat.” you replied, eyes lingering on the corners of his eyes, that were wrinkled with pain and hardship, despite how young he was.

“Looks like it, yeah.”

“I always worried that you thought I was uptight,” you muttered, eyeing the far-away dregs of your empty glass, “Since I turned you down all the time and all.”

“Oh, I do think that,” he grinned, “But I don’t mind the chase.”

You gave him a withering look, but your heart wasn’t really in it.

After a pause, he pushed your glass back towards you.

You raised an eyebrow at him, nodding towards it, “Thought you were trying to stop me drinking?”

“Changed my mind. Misery loves company.” he raised his bottle in a cheers-ing motion, “Plus, I’ll bet I’ve gotta get a few more in you, if I want you to dance with me.”

You laughed, shaking your own head, “That is a terrible pick-up strategy.”

“Hey, it worked on a girl I took to the Stark Expo.”

“Well, I’m not that girl.” you reminded him, swivelling your stool and hopping off of it.

Already on his feet, he followed after you, “You’re not.”

He took your hand and spun you around to face him. You didn’t let go. You stared him down.

“I don’t dance, Sergeant.”

He looked at you pleadingly, tugging you a little closer, “Come on, doll. One dance.”

“Just one?”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking for more.”

One look at his boyish grin and you knew you were a goner.

Your head told you that you were being stupid for diving back in so soon after heartbreak, but your heart said otherwise.

With a sigh, you stepped forward and rested your hand on his chest, “No fancy moves, alright? I can’t keep up with that sort of thing.”

“Alright, doll,” he smiled fondly at you, placing a hand on your waist, “No fancy moves until you’re asking me to dip you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Cocky.”

“Confident.” he corrected, squeezing your hip and beginning to dance with you, amongst the other couples on the floor.

You were out of time with the music, acutely aware of the eyes of the other members of the 107th watching the two of you.

Bucky turned you around so he stood in your way, forcing your eyes back to his.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, guiding you into the new rhythm.

“Shut up.”

Bucky chuckled, “See? Uptight. Still hot, though.”

You stepped deliberately on his foot.

He winced, but didn’t let go. In fact, he held you tight, “Okay, deserved that.”

You hated how easily you’d given in and how natural it felt to have Bucky’s hands spinning you across the floor.

You wanted so badly to hate it, to justify all the times you’d sent him packing, but you couldn’t.

“Everyone’s watching.” you said quietly, shoulders still raised and alert.

“Not everyone, doll,” he reassured, letting his own gaze sweep over the room. In reality, only two or three men were watching - two of whom Bucky knew had been crushing on you.

“They’re not judging you. They’re jealous of me,” he smiled at you.

You laughed, not believing him for one second, “Yeah, right.”

“I’m telling you, Corporal. They’re eating you up with their eyes,” Bucky grinned teasingly, pulling you closer so that you pressed up against him slightly.

“I know something that’ll really make ‘em jealous.” you hummed, voice becoming more sultry as you locked eyes with him.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, grin growing wider, “Oh yeah? What’s that, doll?”

“This.” you said, and, promptly, dipped Bucky, cupping his face with one hand and drawing him into a kiss.

This was what romance was supposed to feel like. Raw and honest and good. Not the pre-planned, cookie-cutter nonsense you’d had with Desmond.

In that moment, nothing had felt more right than Bucky’s lips on yours.

Before long, you came back up for air and Bucky righted himself, adjusting his uniform and his skew-whiff cap.

“Seems like we’re drawing a crowd for the second time today. How’s that?” Bucky laughed, cheeks pink and visibly taken aback by your authority.

“Seems like it.” you echoed, your smile equally wide.

You might not have believed in forever anymore but, wrapped up in Bucky Barnes’s arms, you were willing to believe in tonight.

[lacunafiction]

Hi!!

Hope you're doing well!

I love the Fernweh saga so much!

I was just wondering how writing on a second one was going, as I love seeing the little snippets you put out :)

Hi Iggy!

Thank you for your well wishes and your kind words about TFS. 💐 I still adore and remember your Becca art (your MC's adorable freckles!) that accompanied your writing for the series. B hugs (and potentially more, depending on choices) are guaranteed in Book Two after some initial angst about your newfound 'stay' in town, oof.

I'm locked in and (obsessively) intent on writing, no joke! 👀 Carving away at my outline and bringing this story to life for you all to get lost in means so much to me. Recently, I finished up the longest chapter in Book Two thus far at 300k words without code. For perspective, that's around half the length of Book One, yet it's just a single chapter of Book Two and not even slated to be the longest chapter. I think that Chapter 11 will be the longest overall, although there are a few split consequences at the end of this book that lead to different vibes/outcomes that will shade the series overall. (Dw, I'll be here for questions/hints and hopefully there will be a guide again. These splits aren't 'bad', just different by choice for replays and world state! 😎)

The writing is going exceptionally well! It's what I've been devoted to for many months now, and I do want to acknowledge that you all have been beyond awesome--sending kind asks, being supportive, and remaining patient while I'm legitimately lost in Fernweh, lol. My quiet on social media is mainly to give my all to writing (along with what's best for me stress-wise and focus-wise), but please never fret about the writing. It happens most every day! Me 🤝 the Returning Visitor, being 'trapped' (affectionate for me at least) in Fernweh.

Book Two will likely be 3 times the first, so at least 1.8 million words. (That's an estimate based on what I have written and my chapter outlines due to variation + what happens + ah.)

I'll also share a B. Warrick snippet! 👀I'll place it below the cut for those of you who are curious. Wishing you all the best! 💚

B. Warrick

Beckett

"I could pose you sometime?" Beckett offers.

"Oh, I'd be up for—"

"Privately."

That murmured addition's implication cuts through your one-liner, although it falls short of Beckett's zealous look. He kisses you before you're able to string together words, which is your cue to let go of the damn sign post to touch him. You tease at the skin along his waist after already making a mental note of his shirt riding up from the bag. Again, he shivers, pressing closer while you splay your hand out against his back to push and encourage him. Now, you're holding each other during your kiss.

A distant wolf whistle goes unacknowledged by either of you until it comes again, louder. If that's R, you will—

Beckett pulls away with a bewildered look that ends in his eyes widening, though you do take a moment to fix his shirt, sparing him from future embarrassment.

_ _ _

Becca

"I could pose you sometime?" Becca offers.

"Oh, I'd be up for—"

"Privately."

That murmured addition's implication cuts through your one-liner, although it falls short of Becca's zealous look. She kisses you before you're able to string together words, which is your cue to let go of the damn sign post to touch her. You tease at the skin along her waist after already making a mental note of her shirt riding up from the bag. Again, she shivers, pressing closer while you splay your hand out against her back to push and encourage her. Now, you're holding each other during your kiss.

A distant wolf whistle goes unacknowledged by either of you until it comes again, louder. If that's R, you will—

Becca pulls away with a bewildered look that ends in her eyes widening, though you do take a moment to fix her shirt, sparing her from future embarrassment.

[yourfavtangerine]

Baby fever

Request by anon 🐚

Husband!Namjoon x Wife!reader

Established relationship, idol AU, baby fever

Wc: ~1.5k

Warnings: smut, baby talk, fingering, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

A/N: to 🐚, thanks for your request, I really enjoyed writing it even if it's shorter than expected (I've been working on a lot of fics lately). I hope you'll like it!

The apartment is quiet except for the low noises of the city outside, filtered through windows and curtains that move slightly with the late afternoon breeze. You’re curled up on the couch, legs stretched over your husband's lap, a drama playing on the TV.

It’s not the story you’re following, though, it’s the rise and fall of his chest beneath the hoodie he's wearing, the way his thumb absentmindedly traces small circles against your ankle.

"You know" he says, voice low and hesitant "I had a dream about us."

You shift a little, smiling as your fingers pause in his hair. "Was I cute in it?"

He chuckles. "You were always cute. But this one was different. You were holding a baby. Our baby."

Your heart skips a beat. You study his expression, unsure if he’s joking. But there’s a softness in his eyes, hopeful, scared, maybe both at the same time. The same look he had the first time he told you he loved you. That same delicate balance of bravery and vulnerability.

"What did they look like?"

He blinks. "Small. And...kind of squishy. Like a dumpling. They had my eyes, though."

You laugh, and he grins sheepishly, but his hand stills against your skin.

"I keep thinking about it" he admits "Not just the baby. The idea of us having one. A family."

The words hit harder than they should. You've talked about the future in vague terms before, mostly in hushed tones when tangled together under the covers. But never like this. Never in the daylight, in the open, where it feels like it could be real.

You sit up a little straighter, shifting so you're facing him. "You want that?"

He nods, slowly. "Yeah. I think I do. But... it scares the hell out of me."

You reach for his hand. "Because of your career?"

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling like the answer might be written in the plaster. "The fans...they think they know me. They love who I am on stage, who I am in interviews. But they don’t know this me. The real me. The me who’s been in love with you for years. The me who wants...all of this. I'm scared of what would be their reaction if I announce I'm having a baby."

You squeeze his fingers gently. "You’re allowed to want a real life."

"Am I?" He turns to you again, eyes glassy. "Some days I feel like I’m not. Like I have to choose between being who they need me to be and who I actually am. And what if bringing a baby into that world is selfish? What if it hurts them? You?" His voice cracks a little at the end, and you move closer, resting your forehead against his.

"You’ve never been selfish with me. Ever. And I know what this life means. What it takes. But if we want this...if we really want this...we’ll find a way."

He exhales shakily, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. You rest there for a while, your cheek against his shoulder, feeling his heart steady beneath your palm.

"You’d be such a good dad" you whisper. "You already take care of everyone around you. You’d be patient, and gentle, and probably too soft when it comes to discipline."

"I would absolutely cry at parent-teacher conferences."

You laugh against his neck, and he presses a kiss to your temple. "You’d be amazing too. Our kid wouldn’t stand a chance, they’d be spoiled rotten with love."

"We’re really talking about this" you murmur, as if saying it out loud might break the spell.

"Yeah. We are."

The sun dips lower, casting the room in golden light. He holds you like you’re something precious, like the idea of building a life with you is no longer a fantasy but a decision waiting to be made.

Later, after dinner and a shared shower where nothing happens except warm water and lazy kisses, you find yourselves in bed, legs tangled, his head resting on your chest. You run your fingers through his damp hair, listening to his breathing slow.

"We don’t have to decide anything now" you say softly. "But I want you to know that when you're ready... I am too."

He doesn’t respond right away. Then he presses a kiss just below your collarbone and whispers "Thank you for dreaming with me."

And in the quiet that follows, you close your eyes and do just that.

Around midnight, you wake to the feeling of his fingers brushing your thigh under the blanket. Gentle. Slow. Reverent.

You shift, and he’s already watching you in the dim light, his gaze warm and focused. His hand curls possessively over your hip.

"Still thinking about it?" you ask, voice still sleep-soft.

"I can’t stop" he murmurs. "I want tonight to be the night."

Your heart thuds. You know what he means.

You kiss him, and he meets you with a hunger that builds fast. The weight of love, trust, and something even deeper hangs between you. Clothes are shed slowly, like a silent ritual.

Every kiss, every touch is charged with meaning. He doesn’t rush. He takes his time with you, starting by kissing your neck, your chest, your stomach. You moan as his tongue finds your nipple, and he sucks gently until you're gasping.

When his hand slips between your thighs, he strokes you slowly, building you up with delicate pressure. His fingers move with ease, coaxing soft moans from you until you’re slick and aching. His thumb press on your clit and his other fingers massaging your walls until he finds your weak spot.

He kisses his way down, spreads your legs wider, and buries his face between them. The first flick of his tongue sends a jolt through your spine. He devours you with patience, with worship, his hands holding your hips steady as you cry out, his tongue working relentlessly on your clit.

"You taste like heaven" he murmurs, voice low and rough against your heat. "I could stay here all night."

You nod. But you need him inside you. Now.

You tug at his hair. "Please. I want you. I want all of you."

He kisses your inner thigh once more, then rises to meet you, his body fitting perfectly against yours. You wrap your legs around him as he positions himself at your entrance.

"Look at me" he says.

You do, and he pushes in, slow and steady. The stretch is perfect, the way he fills you, deeper, thicker, warmer than anything else. Every inch rubbing deliciously against your walls. He sinks into you until he can’t go any further, and the groan he lets out is primal. "Fuck. You feel so good" he pants.

You’re already pulsing around him, body responding instinctively. He moves slowly at first, drawing almost all the way out and pushing back in with a rhythm that makes your eyes flutter.

"You were made for this" he breathes. "Made for me."

Your hands run down his back, nails dragging as you hold him tighter. "Give it to me. Fill me."

He begins to thrust harder, the bed rocking beneath you. Every stroke hits deeper, and his thumb finds your clit, pressing and circling as you moan louder.

"Gonna give you my baby" he groans. "Gonna fill you up so full, so good...you won’t be able to think of anything else."

Your walls flutter around him, and you cry out his name. He keeps going, chasing your pleasure.

"Come for me, my love. Come while I breed you, baby. Let me feel you take it."

You shatter beneath him, body convulsing, a loud, broken moan escaping you as you clamp down around him. He fucks you through it, voice ragged with need.

"I’m right there. Gonna come inside you, fill you so deep, you’ll be leaking with me and we'll have a baby."

One final thrust and he spills into you, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt. You feel every pulse of him, warmth spreading as he groans into your shoulder. He stays inside, rocking gently as the high fades.

Eventually, he lifts his head, brushing his hair back. His eyes are glassy but bright. "I love you."

You pull him down into a kiss. "I love you more."

He shifts, settling beside you without pulling out. He cradles your body close, one hand protectively over your belly. "That was it" he whispers. "That was the one."

You smile, exhausted but content. "Then let’s just stay like this. Let it happen. Our baby."

And in the glow of the night, with his warmth inside you, the two of you drift into sleep, already dreaming of the life you're creating together.

[frijolebean]

Hey I'm backk!! Only recently started drawing again so these doodles are all i got 😭

Kinda have to relearn how to draw, but yeah I've been feeling a lot better!

For those who don't know, I've been struggling with a panic disorder and depression that had me unable to do anything but stay inside and distract myself with tv. I had to take a break from everything social media for like 3 months. But ive been gradually stepping back into social media to see how I felt, and I think I'm ready to be back🙏

Thank you for being patient with me!!❤️

[anime-in-new-albion]

11:02 PM ~ Rafayel

Summary: It's raining. And yet Rafayel decided to show up at your house without an umbrella or a coat, leaving him positively soaked...

Pairing: Rafayel X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 587

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

It was pouring. And yet Rafayel decided to visit you. Needless to say, he was drenched by the time he reached your door.

“Hello bodyguard.”

“Rafayel!” You gasped, quickly ushering him inside. “You’re all wet! Did you walk here without a coat or umbrella with you?”

“I didn’t have time to get one.” He shrugs, but allows you to pull him into your house. “Besides, I couldn’t be bothered to grab one anyways.”

You sigh and shake your head. “You are impossible, I swear. Here, let’s get you warmed up. You must be freezing.”

He nodded as you led him out of the foyer and into your living room. Sitting him down on the couch, you went to grab a fresh set of clothes and a towel for him.

“Alright, you can go into the bathroom to change. I’ll dry your hair when you come back.”

Rafayel eyed you with suspicion. “Really? You’re going to dry my hair? Don’t you think I can do that myself?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure you can, but be serious, are you really going to tell me no when I’m offering to spoil you?”

He shook his head. “No…”

“Good. Then go change and I’ll dry your hair.”

And with an arrogant huff, he grabbed the spare clothes you got for him and went into the bathroom to change. You shook your head as you patiently waited for him to return. When he changed, he didn't say anything but sat right in front of you so you could dry his hair.

Carefully, you draped the towel over his soaking wet hair and started to dry it. Instantly, he leaned into your touch. A contented hum escaped him. You couldn’t help but smile as well. Rafayel was like a giant puppy when you spoiled him like this. Sometimes you’d have to scold him, but most of the time you got to love him. And of course, he loved you as well.

“Raf, I want you to remember to bring an umbrella with you next time it rains, okay? I am not going to do this for you again.”

He scoffed, looking absolutely offended by your words. “I thought it was your job to protect me from everything, bodyguard!”

“Like a common cold?”

“Exactly! You should put my well-being before everything else.” He shot back before he added under his breath, “Besides, I really don’t need an umbrella.”

You scowled and rolled your eyes. “Please. Even the great Lemurian Sea God still gets sick.”

There was a slight pause before he asked, “Would you take care of me if I got sick?”

“Yes, of course, but I don’t want you intentionally getting sick just so I can take care of you.” You scolded, but there’s a soft smile that’s beginning to tug at your lips. It sounded exactly like something he would do.

He scowled before he begrudgingly nodded. “Okay, I won’t. But thank you for taking care of me.”

You smiled. “You’re very welcome.”

When you were done drying his hair, Rafayel took his spot next to you on the couch and pulled you into his side. You managed to grab a thick blanket and turned the TV on to a movie he wanted to see.

Glancing up at him, you were overcome with that overwhelming love and fondness you harbored for him and you kissed the bottom of his jaw. This caused him to smile and nuzzle closer to you. Yep, he was definitely your giant puppy dog.

[zombiequeens]

It's a bit of a weird prompt but the lyrics

"Lay down, Christian lass

Chaste no more and free at last"

(from Rusalka & the Shepherd Girl by The Forgetmenauts)

are so Papa bedding a new convert for the first time coded. So if you wanna write Copia or V in that I'll be real happy. You can even sprinkle some corruption kink in there 👉👈

Thank you <3

I'll do my best!!! <3

18+ MDNI

She comes to me every night Her body a song, a poem in the candlelight Tempts me away from the lord Salvation anew past the banks of the river shore

A whole new world has opened up to you since you arrived at the ministry. You don't always know how to reach out and touch it, be a part of it, the fear and shame you were raised in still shackled to you though the cage itself has been breached at long last.

You never feel closer to blossoming into who you are than when you spend time with Papa Perpetua. He took you under his wing, patient and understanding as you stumble over your words and your own trauma as you seek to find your place in the clergy and in the world.

It started with small gestures; holding doors open for you, calling you to his quarters to ask about your day, a smile that lingers for far too long as he hesitates to break eye contact with you. You feel so completely safe and at ease around him; a newfound but welcome feeling.

As the weight of his strong body anchors you to the bed in your chamber, contrasting eyes searching your face, you wonder if you have what it takes to make the leap of faith. He's the one you want to deflower you, there's no doubt in your mind, but you were never taught how to embrace your own body.

"Papa..." You coo, reaching up to twist a dark curl around your finger. "What if I'm bad at it?"

"I'll teach you, little lamb." He traces circles on your lips as he studies your face.

Your heart is fluttering in your chest; quaking and leaping with both fear and excitement.

"O-okay. I want to, Papa." Your voice trembles as Perpetua smiles down at you.

He closes the distance between your lips, tentatively taking yours in his own as you mirror his movements.

"Don't be afraid, angel. Papa's got you..." He utters into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, slowly but surely claiming your mouth as his own as his tongue waltzes with yours.

You gasp as he slides a hand up your thigh, every hair on your body standing on end.

"To think God wanted you to hide this beautiful body away," He muses, chuckling. "If only he knew what I plan to do with it."

Your knees weaken as Perpetua reaches into your underwear, his fingers tracing along your sex until they reach your aching, swollen clit. He rests his thumb upon it before rubbing in slow circles as you lift your hips into his.

"So needy..." He teases. "Your little pussy is so starved..."

A small moan escapes your mouth at his observation and you bring a hand up to your mouth to cover it.

"No no," Perpetua tuts. "Let me hear you, angel."

You wince, turning your face away from him.

Perpetua holds your chin between his thumb and index finger and turns your head to face him again. "Close your eyes, angel. Focus on the feelings inside your body only; forget your thoughts." He instructs as he caresses your face, fingertips grazing your flushed cheeks.

You obey, the world around you disappearing as the infinite universe shrinks down to the plush, downy confines of your new bed. There is nothing but you, Perpetua and the electricity dancing between your skin.

Perpetua returns his thumb to your clit, pressing it to your sensitive nub as his motions pick up a faster pace.

"Mm, Papa..." You groan, grasping and squeezing at his bicep as your legs shake against his.

"Good girl." He growls. "Don't you ever hold back for me. Now..."

Perpetua slides a finger inside you as you groan, wiggling your hips to familiarise yourself with the strange, exciting feeling of something being inside you.

"Look at how much you love being filled, you dirty little thing." He chuckles. "More?"

You nod, sucking on your teeth as you feel your walls stretch to accommodate a second digit.

You instinctively ride his fingers as Perpetua watches in awe. "Look at you, riding me, using me for your own pleasure." He grins. "Dirty little girl."

Perpetua curls his fingers on the next thrust of your hips, curling them around your sweet spot as you throw your head back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, oh!" You whimper. "Don't stop, Papa,"

Perpetua's cock is being smothered in his pants as he watches you come apart with pleasure on his fingers. Noticing the prominent bulge, your mind wanders.

"Papa..." You utter, grabbing his face as you pant. "I want to know what your cock tastes like."

Perpetua raises his eyebrows at you, aroused and surprised by the words coming out of your mouth as he reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants. You almost drool at the sight of it, hot and aching as precum beads on his tip and trickles down his shaft. If you didn't know better, you'd have believed that God had created this man in the name of all you desire.

You scramble to your knees in front of him as he smirks, turned on by your desperation as you suckle and bite at the skin of his hips and groin.

"Such a hungry little girl..." He utters under his breath before a dark smile stretches his lips. "Careful, angel. Don't choke on me,"

You wrap a hand around the base of his shaft and begin to work him slowly with your hand as he inhales sharply.

"T-that's it, angel." He moans, closing his eyes.

You can't stand to wait a second more as you wrap your lips around his smooth, pink head. As you slowly slide him into your mouth, a groan escapes from your throat and the vibrations only contribute to Perpetua's undoing as he holds your head, his hips bucking each time he collides with the back of your throat.

"To think God wanted to keep that perfect throat for himself," Perpetua breathes, breath hitching. "Well, it's mine now."

Perpetua feels his release closing in as he pulls out of your mouth, reaching down to help you to your feet. "Angel..." He whispers. "I need you. Let me fuck you, please."

"Yes, fuck me, Papa. Please..." You wrap your arms around his neck and cling to his body as he carries you and places you down on the bed, taking a step back to study you.

"There are a lot of things I want to show you, little lamb..." He ponders, tilting his head. "But let's keep it simple for tonight."

In an instant, he's on top of you again, lifting your legs around his waist as you cross them around him.

"Are you ready for me, my precious little sinner?" Perpetua grins, pecking you on the lips as you nod fervently.

You gasp as Perpetua pushes into your entrance, wrapping his arms around you to hold you steady as you arch your back into him.

"Papa!" You cry out, the feeling of fullness and warmth intoxicating as he slowly thrusts into you.

"I know, lamb. Your little pussy is being fucked for the first time, it's a lot for you..." He coos, burying his face into the crook of your neck to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses as he grinds his hips into you, his cock working each and every sensitive spot inside you as you whimper and moan into his curls.

"Papa, it's..." You can't find the words as you mumble, gasping for air.

"Are you going to cum, little lamb? So soon for me?" He smirks, mocking you as you blush.

"Mhm..." You whine, a sweet bliss washing over you as your body can't take any more stimulation.

"Surrender to the feeling..." His breath is hot on your neck as he presses his soft lips to your flushed skin. "Surrender to me, angel. Cum on your Papa's cock, it's okay. Just let go,"

His spoken permission is all you need as your muscles begin to squeeze and contract around him; sweet, warm pleasure rippling through your body as all you can do is close your eyes and bask in the feeling.

Perpetua soon finds his own intense release, his thrusts slowing as he spills his hot, thick seed deep inside you.

You both gasp and pant as you hold each other close, Perpetua softening as his tender side reappears.

"Are you okay, angel? No pain?" He furrows his brow, reaching down to caress your face.

"No, Papa."

"Good. Rest, now...you did so well. Your little body must be tired,"

You don't remember falling asleep in Perpetua's arms, but when you wake up the next morning you feel refreshed and liberated in a way that you could have only dreamed of before. As you glance to the table beside your bed, you notice a small purple card with a single black rose atop it.

Aren't you a dirty little temptress?

Love, Papa

[robynostornwyn]

“You know, he would never want to cause you pain.”

The voice startled Osk. She turned to find the Viis guard from the Exarch’s chambers leaning against the wall behind her. Had she followed after when Osk had stormed off?

“The Exarch, I mean. Despite what you may think, he cares deeply about all of his people, especially Robyn and the others he has brought through the rift—and you are no exception. I am sure he feels terrible about causing you so much hurt. He is just doing what he must to try and save both our worlds.”

“I didn’t think they had told anyone so much of what was really going on.”

“Well, they haven’t told me directly. But they do tend to forget that I am in the room, so I’ve put a lot of it together. Not that I really understand the specifics, mind, but I have gathered the basics.”

For some reason that actually put Osk at ease. She went and leaned against the wall next to the white haired woman.

“Well that makes two of us. Master Matoy—I mean Y’shtola—had explained some of it to me over the years, but it all seems just so...big and beyond imagining. And I…I just can’t help but feel like this is not where I’m supposed to be.”

“You mean your kid, don’t you.”

Osk nodded. “If the world is ending, it terrifies me to think that she may have to face it alone. All of this is…I don’t think I have much of anything to contribute to saving the world.”

Both women stood in silence, watching the bustle of life in the Crystarium below. Eventually the other woman stood up and faced Osk directly.

“I’m Lyna by the way.”

That surprised as chuckle out of Osk, and she took Lyna’s outstretched hand into her own.

“Osk.”

“Osk, I don’t think you are here by just chance. We all have our part to play and I look forward to see what yours turns out to be.”

The rain continued to poor over the now quiet battlefield as Osk made her rounds, tending to any soldiers she could find who needed her help. Eventually she came across Lyna, battered and bloody and resting against a wall.

“Oh. I did not see you there. Is there something you need?”

She was going to be a stubborn patient, Osk could already tell. But from the way she was holding herself, one no less in need her attention.

“No, no, I'm fine. How are you feeling?”

“Injuries are part and parcel of battle. While there's breath in my lungs, I shall see my duties done. Please, there are others who need your attention far more than I.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already seen to your people and helped where I could. Those needing more care are already being moved to the Crystarium.”

Lyna seemed to interpret that more as a status report rather than reason to allow Osk to take a look at her own injuries. She pushed herself up to standing, trying to hide the way she winced at the movement.

“You saved a great many lives today. Thank you. Unfortunately, this war is far from over. We must replenish our ranks and shore up our defenses before they attack again. Now, if you will excuse me.”

Osk watched her take a handful of steps before her knee fully gave out and she collapsed to the ground once again. Osk rushed to her side but hesitated to start healing her when Lyna spoke, her voice cracking with emotion.

“I…am fine…Completely…and utterly…fine! Better than fine! Hale and hearty and still alive to mourn those who are not. Who I failed to protect when they needed me most.

"We've come so far─so godsdamned far! I could have sworn the end was in sight. And now… Now they will never see it.”

Osk gently laid her hand on Lyna’s side. Not to heal, but as a silent comfort as she looked for words. Before she found them, Vauthry’s voice boomed from an airship flying over head. But his haughty words meant to cause despair or uncertainty had the opposite effect…seeming to steel the resolve of those around them.

“Please, Lyna, let me help you. Let me do my part so that you can do yours. As you said, this war is far from over.”

Lyna nodded and Osk got to work.

“You know, I’m surprised you stayed behind.”

Osk looked up from the bandages she was preparing as Lyna approached and gave her a smile.

“After the sin eater attack, the chirurgeons have needed all the help they can get. Besides, I’m far more useful here than getting in the way of Minfilia’s plan. Whatever it is they are doing, they don’t need another person to look after.”

“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who has no idea what it is they are doing.”

That made Osk laugh, which in turn made Lyna grin.

“Regardless, I am told you have been working yourself ragged. It would not due to have Robyn return and find her sister collapsed from exhaustion. You should take a break and at least to eat something.”

Osk raised an eyebrow as she looked at her. “A bold statement coming from you.”

“I know, I know. I am far better at taking care of others than I am myself. Something I suspect you understand?”

“Fair enough. How about this, I will take a break for lunch if you will join me. I would like to get to know the woman underneath the mantle of the captain of the guard.”

“Oh would you now? I guess that is a fair trade.”

~

Later some of the guard would whisper about how their Captain spent hours chatting with the blue haired stranger. Some would even say they heard her laughing, but surely they were mistaken.

The celebration was in full swing when Lyna found Osk sitting at a table alone in the Wandering Stairs. She stopped to grab a pair of drinks from the bar and made her way over to the young healer.

“You know, it is a shame for such a beautiful woman to spend such a beautiful night drinking alone.”

Osk laughed as she accepted the drink being handed to her.

“Maybe I was just waiting for you to finally make your way over here to share one with me.”

“Well, in that case I am sorry it took me so long. Though it did allow me to find out what your part to play was in this grand story, assuming Alphinaud’s tipsy overtures are to be believed.”

“Oh goodness, what story is he spreading around?”

“Just that you kept them all up and fighting when they would have been otherwise killed. It sounds like in the end, while Robyn may hold the victory, it was you who saved the day. Perhaps your time here has been worth it after all.”

“You know, there are other reasons my time here has been worth it, too…” Osk said, a little shyly, as she put her hand over Lyna’s.

“Would you like to get out of here? Find someplace more quiet?”

“I would love that.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t think I would find you down here.”

Lyna looked up and smiled when she saw Osk approaching where she sat by the canals in the Hortorium.

“This is one of my more favored places to take a break and think. Would you like to sit with me for a moment?”

Osk took Lyna’s offered hand and settled on the floor beside her.

“It is beautiful down here, the inner workings of this city are truly remarkable.”

“I am sorry for leaving you this morning without a word. I was already later than I would have liked to be when I woke, and you looked far too peaceful to disturb.”

“No, I know you have duties to see to. And I was more exhausted than I think I realized, I don’t think I have ever slept so late. Though maybe the softness of your bed contributed to that, too.”

Lyna blushed a bit and looked down at the flower in her hands that she had been fiddling with.

“I enjoyed last night, very much. It has been a long time…well I guess its been a long time since I’ve had enough hope for the future to even consider…what I mean to say is thank you.”

She turned to Osk, and with a small smile threaded the flower into Osk’s hair. Osk caught her hand as she pulled away to admire her handiwork.

“Now that the world has been saved, you will probably be leaving soon to go back to your world, your life. But I want you to know how happy I am that I have had this time with you.”

“Well, I’m not leaving quite yet, if you don’t mind I would like to spend a bit more time with you.”

“With me or with my soft bed?”

“Ha! Both if you are willing. You truly are a remarkable woman, Lyna. Your kindness and companionship have touched my heart in ways I honestly wasn’t sure was possible anymore, and I know I will treasure what time we have had.”

“I guess we better make the best of it.”

[stratocassandrakirammaster]

Cassandra Kiramman and you, her guitarist wife...

Headcanons / 18+ / top!cassandra x bottom!fem!reader

Cassandra used to play violin and piano and was really good at it thanks to her long slender fingers so she's familiar with the musical world a little bit.

You never give your precious instrument to anyone but with Cass it's different - you simply trust her. She's very accurate with it and touches your guitar only with her gloved hands not to scratch it or smth., asking about every part of it from your locking tuners up to the bridge.

"Show me what else these fingers can do, darling…"

Cassandra always makes sure that you don't overplay so that your fingers won't hurt. She always buys you the best hand cream and gently rubs it in after every guitar session.

At first she thought an electric guitar wasn't a serious instrument but you showed her how fascinating and every time different it can sound due to many guitar pedals that you own and some of which Cass bought you later. She especially enjoys it when you use effects such as delay, reverb and chorus. Can't stand distortion, likes only clean sound.

“While watching you play, I can only think about myself being there instead of that guitar!”

Cassandra doesn't mind listening to you practice the same guitar riff over and over again. She's patient and understands that practice makes perfect but sometimes can punish you if you play loudly when she has work to do, so make sure to use headphones next time or your pretty ass will never heal after those hard spanks.

"Behave or I'll tie you up with your guitar strings and then you'll beg for me to stop, my dear".

When she's not near and you miss her, you take and cuddle your guitar; it reminds you of her gorgeous body curves.

Cass has always liked the color of your guitar - fiesta red, which reminds her of your clit after she caresses it with her soft tongue until you come at least twice.

She gave you a separate room in the mansion so that you could turn it into a studio and record your music. You write many romantic songs about enchanting Cassandra Kiramman and your sultry relationship with her.

"Who's Fender!? I want my name to be written there!" Now you play the best guitar of all times - Stratocassandra Kirammaster.

Sometimes she asks you to give her some guitar lessons. Cassandra likes the way you gently place her fingers on the fretboard in the right position; she even knows some basic chords now; her favorite is G spot.

"My favorite instrument to play is your pussy, you take my fingers so well, as if they were only made to be inside you, my baby girl".

Once she gifted you a custom guitar pick which said "I pick you. With love, C. K."

You always take Cassandra with you to the local guitar store to buy some of the most expensive strings. She also wants your instrument to sound the best of all.

You love to tease Cass and bend high E string on the 17th fret; it reminds her of you desperately moaning in bed while she stretches your dripping and needy pussy with a huge black matte strap-on.

She’s your mommy who buys you all your favorite vinyl records.

Cassandra never takes her eyes off your hands and crazy guitar faces; they make her horny.

"Your guitar faces are so similar to the ones you make in bed, sweetheart!" - when she says something like that during your playing you always get shy and can mess up, Cass loves to see you blushing.

Every evening she asks you to play her favorite classical pieces; Cass loves the way you always add some kind of modern sound into them.

You two are married and she made sure to buy a custom smooth wedding ring with her initials engraved on it which wouldn’t stop you from playing the guitar so that you could wear it every day and you do. Cass's possessive and wants everyone to know who you belong to.

She's extremely proud of you and doesn't care if you miss the right note. "I didn't even notice it, honey, and after all it's jazz!" (Now she's familiar with popular guitar jokes and knows where to use them).

Cass is always eager to praise you with passionate sexy time after every concert.

[fuyuu-chan]

Our Haven

Pairing: Liu Zhigang x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Fuyuu-chan: liu for now hehehehe

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

You arrive at the penthouse, you and Liu live in.

It was such a long day at work and you desperately needed rest, the dungeons weren't that hard but after such a productive day, you definitely wanted to just laze around.

.

.

.

You lay on the bed covered in your comfiest, fluffiest, favorite blanket with your plushie close to you as you hug it. Hoping it was Liu instead, but alas you don't wanna disturb him when he is talking on the phone from one of his people in the guild, reporting. He couldn't ignore such a call as it was important, so right now he is at his home office, working. Liu promised to come to you as soon as he is finished though so you are willingly being patient.

As you waited, you watched the rain outside pouring from the glass door leading to the balcony. You have always loved rain especially its sound, for some reason it always comforts you and puts you in the mood of laziness and even makes your sleep so much better.

...

The moment he entered the room, you looked up at him and gave a soft smile earning a smile of his own as he went to his side of the bed, joining you. You pulled up the other part of the blanket so after he laid down (p.s he took the plushie and put it aside, he claimed you won't be needing it anymore for the rest of the day since he is already here), you let it drop on top of him as you hug him close, in which he instinctively wrapped his arm around you. Cuddling.

He let out a sigh of content as he pulled away slightly to look at your face. "I missed you" he whispered as he caressed your cheek with his other hand.

You nuzzle into him, seeking his touch. "Missed you too..." You mumbled.

"How was your day, love?" He asked softly.

"Its okay...just tired..." You respond.

"Thought so...you went to a lot of gates today than usual" Liu says as he caressed your cheek again softly. The same one he would usually squeeze any time of the day just to see your cute pout. Which he found so adorable.

"Mhm" you hummed.

"I'm proud of you, love. But don't overwork yourself just because people think you could do more, we should always listen to our body and limitations" he paused as he kissed your forehead with a feather light kiss. "Just like what you always tell me "Sometimes even the strongest of people have limits" so listen to your own advice too"

You nod. "I will"

The little conversation died down for a bit, but neither you and Liu minded. Just being with each other's presence is enough.

As Liu holds you close to him, your body fully relaxed, all the tension and stress from work instantly left as you snuggled to him. Finally, you can completely let your guard down knowing Liu would be there to protect you from whatever danger might come as his arms is carefully wrapped around you as if shielding you away from the dangers the world has to offer.

You finally closed your eyes as Liu gave you a lingering kiss on the cheek. "Sweet dreams, my love. I'll be here when you wake up" he whispered softly, in which you hummed as a response, having a small smile as you drift off to sleep.

.

.

.

These are the times that you live and enjoy life for. The small little things you get to share with Liu, like everyday you get to wake up with him next to you...its all about the domestic life you have with him, and you are just beyond grateful that's its Liu that you get to do this all with.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[menodoramoon]

Oswald is reluctant and Mena doesn't know what to do about that. She purses her lips slightly, chewing on the idea of any set of words that would maybe translate into, "is something wrong?" Or, more accurate, "what is wrong with you?"

It's strange that he's keeping this distance from here. Weren't they friends?

"I won't be mad at you if you mess up," Mena says, trying to sound reassuring. "I don't know if you can mess up, it's box dye. Worse comes to worst we just color over it again."

It's the dye he's concerned about, isn't it? Nothing else?

Oswald's voice though sounds, perhaps, slightly worried? Mena figures her memory is the least of his worries, given his injuries. This could have been a good distraction, but Mena wonders now if she's missed the mark. Was this only fun to her? Cass hadn't said much and neither had Oswald. She'd really held them hostage to her whims.

"I just... don't," Mena explains, her shoulder slumping somewhat. Cass had heard this story once or twice, how Mena had wracked her brain to try to bring up some old thoughts and all she had acquired was some minor headaches for the trouble. "I keep trying to recall even the most basic biographical pieces of memory, and it all comes up hazy." She frowns. "The doctor said there's no head trauma -- we can thank Cass for catching me, actually, at prom -- so it shouldn't be that. I didn't stop breathing, so they've ruled out anything related to... lack of oxygen? I don't know."

She shakes her head. "You don't have to worry about it, Oz," she says, looking back up. "Let's just have a good time. Besides, I'm thinking after it dries, I might head over to The Lucky Cat for some bubble tea. It keeps me in Cass's company without taking her away too much."

Mena feels like she's been talking around Cass, which doesn't feel terribly good. What can/could/should she say. There's something about Cass's support that's meant a lot to her through all of this, and part of her doesn't want to make Cass feel like she's just here to help. Only here to be useful? That wasn't--

"Cass really has been a big help," Mena says. "She's been very patient with me throughout all of this." She turns, maybe throwing Cass off of the dying bit, but that's entirely okay. "I don't think I can really thank you enough for being here for me. I may be shaky on a lot, but you've remained one of my only real, constant memories. I think there must be something special about that."

@auntcass-hamada @oswaldxmarks

The Art of Dye-ing || Moss

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I know those eyes.

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