#this one's a bit messy... might clean it up later

[kazumist]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION .ᐟ

✩ — you always had a habit of saying “i love you” to almost everyone you know—everyone except caleb. or in other words, the three times you refused to say “i love you” to caleb and the one time you do.

✩ — includes: caleb x f!reader. reader is mc but story is not canon compliant. fluff. silly and messy (also drunk) confessions. cw: mentions of alcohol but no consumption. wc: 2,902.

✩ — note: i got this idea otw to uni randomly during the week. thought it was cute :P

you always had a little habit of saying i love you or simply just love you to everyone.

a female colleague compliments you today? you’d chirp back, stop, i love you! thanks; you look great too! someone gives you a surprise gift? you’d squeal at the sight of the gift; i love it! and i love you! how did you know i wanted this? someone does an important favor for you last minute? a sigh of relief leaves you. oh my god, i love you! you’re a lifesaver!

it just slips out so easily for you. there’s nothing wrong with having love to give, right?

but despite this little habit of yours, you never told caleb that you loved him—not even in the small moments like what he usually sees you with others—and he's done way more things for you than them! 

when caleb cooks you dinner? you’d peek from behind; oooh, it smells good—thanks for cooking dinner! when caleb lends a hand to ease your workload? you give him a tired smile. thanks, caleb. i appreciate it, really. and when caleb is the one doing those last-minute favors for you? you’d throw your arms at him, wrapping him in a hug. i owe you one, seriously! dinner is on me tonight! don’t get him wrong; he’s not that upset over it. it’s more like it makes him sulk about it.

because what could be so wrong with you telling him those three words?

caleb doesn’t really say it to you either. but it does make him wonder why you’d refuse to show that habit of yours to him. he knows you like the back of his hand; it’s not like anything was going to be different if you did say it to him. he was your friend too.

right?

well, caleb might be wrong on that.

-

caleb decided to keep track of the times when you would usually say “i love you” to others but don’t when it’s him.

the first was when he was helping you with some spring cleaning. 

throwing out things that should’ve been gone long ago, helping you reach places you couldn’t, caleb doesn’t complain. “hey, this maple syrup expired ages ago. you still haven’t thrown it in the trash?” caleb asks you; currently he’s cleaning your fridge while you flip through the newspapers that accumulated over time. 

“huh? oh! i.. honestly forgot i had that there,” you replied, a bit embarrassed at caleb finding it. but that’s exactly why he’s here—because if he wasn’t, then you probably wouldn’t have noticed that expired bottle of maple syrup. “it’s alright, you don’t have that much expired stuff in here anyways. but what you do have here is... well, not much. when was the last time you went out for some groceries, pips?”

“groceries? uhm... two weeks ago, if i recall it correctly. wait—oh yeah! i was supposed to go out to restock today!” you remembered as you stood up to double check the date today. “we can take a break first and go for a quick grocery run. what do you say?”

and that’s the reason why you’re now in the supermarket with caleb, with him pushing the cart and you checking the list you made.

let’s see... eggs? we haven’t reached that part yet. bread, check. milk, not yet. snacks, half way there. toiletries? we’re way too far from that aisle right now, so definitely not yet.

“what meals do you plan on having for the next few weeks?” caleb asks as you reach the vegetable section. “hmm… i’ve been craving stir-fry lately. so maybe some ingredients for that? i don’t usually make that much since work gets a bit too demanding at times and i’d usually eat out with colleagues instead.”

“i see.. what do you think about stir-fry for dinner later? i’ll cook,” he replies. and you know that he knows that you’d never decline his cooking. “deal! i’ll go check the fruit section while you’re at it.” 

with now vegetables for some classic old stir-fry, one batch of six apples, and one pack of grapes in the cart, you and caleb reached the cereal section. your eyes scanned the brands displayed, checking whether it’s in your budget and if it looks good to buy. you walked ahead with caleb trailing you from behind as he pushed the shopping cart. 

“hey, look over here, pips.” you heard him call you. turning around to face him, you see caleb was holding a familiar box of cereal. “wait... is that what i think it is?” you asked just to be sure. “uh-huh. the very same cereal that we used to eat as kids,” he confirms. you gasp, taking the box from him to check it.

“oh my god, caleb! i lo—” your eyes slightly widened. “i mean, i want it! is there a smaller box there? this is too big for me as someone who lives alone,” you quickly say.

one, caleb counted in his head.

-

the second time was when you two went out to the amusement park.

caleb had always had this competitive side when it comes to winning prizes with the game booths around. this time was no different—he was currently making sure that his aim would be just right for the nerf bullet to hit the bottle. 

as he pulled on the trigger, the bullet was quick to hit the bottle but not enough to knock it over.

he knew that these games would usually be a silly scam. but hey, how could he resist when your eyes shined as you saw that cute little apple plushie that’s promoted as a prize? how could he resist when you were the one who said, “look, caleb! that apple plushie reminds me of you.” with a giggle as a cherry on top?

he couldn’t possibly resist that. so now he has decided that he’ll win that apple plushie so that you’ll have another thing that would remind you of him.

“better luck next time, mate,” the one running the booth said. but caleb isn’t gonna give up that easily—so he pays for another try. and this time, he’ll get that prize for you. you watched him from behind, glancing ever so often at how concentrated he looks. he then pulls the trigger again, the sound of the toy gun ringing through your ears. 

the fake bullet shoots, and just when the owner of the booth was going to tell caleb another “better luck next time!”, the bullet knocks the bottle over. caleb lowers the gun from his line of vision. he tosses it back to the owner, who barely catches it as he was shocked that caleb actually won. 

“i’d like the apple plushie that’s displayed, please,” caleb tells him, pride radiating off. the owner gets the plush and hands it over, congratulating caleb on winning (though it was mostly a grumble under his breath). “here you go.” he hands it over to you. you stared at him dumbfoundedly. “eh? i thought you won it because you liked apples?”

“i got it for you, silly girl. you said that it reminded you of me, right?” 

“awww, you actually won it for me? how sweet of you! lo—” another short pause. “thanks, caleb!” you said instead, but he knew what you were about to say. 

and you didn’t have to know that he used his evol just to get the prize.

two, caleb counts.

-

the third time was when he was taking care of you while you were sick.

as of the moment, you were currently burning up with a temperature of 38.9—which is quite bad. and to top that, you refuse to take your medicine due to the awful taste that it leaves on your tongue. “c’mon pips, i know you hate being sick but you need to take this,” he takes, holding the spoon filled with your medicine for you to take. 

“but it tastes so bad,” you said. it was obvious that your nose was clogged from your cold and your throat was dry from your cough. “i know but how are you gonna get better if you don’t take your meds, hm?” he softly asks. “this might as well just be my death bed then,” you replied. caleb lightly chuckles at that. “now you’re being overdramatic, pips.”

“don’t care, i’m still not taking that.”

that was a lie because caleb soon managed to convince you to take your medicine anyway. it leaves a bad aftertaste on your tongue and caleb helps you drink some water to wash it down. you let out a yawn soon after, the drowsiness side effect of your medicine taking place. “feel sleepy now?” he asks again, his hand combing his fingers through your hair (a habit he can’t control sometimes).

“mhm.. i‘m gonna get some shut eye real quick...” you trailed off, eyes slowly fluttering closed. “sleep well, pipsqueak.” 

“love…” you suddenly say, eyes still closed. but caleb knew better.

you didn’t get to finish that sentence. “thanks, caleb. i owe you dinner after i get better.”

three, caleb counts again.

-

you were drunk the one time you told caleb you loved him.

it was nearing two in the morning when he picked you up from the bar. 

you went drinking with tara and simone as a way to spend some time together. however, you forgot to ask caleb to pick you up when you’re done. but it was a good thing that you had caleb as your emergency contact, so tara and simone were able to get in touch with him, asking him to pick you up in your stead.

“sorry! we didn’t know that she’s a bit of a lightweight. we would’ve stopped her if we knew.” tara apologizes as caleb approaches your table. “it’s okay; it looks like she forgot about that too,” he says with a sigh. swiftly bidding his thanks and farewell to your friends on your behalf, he tightly holds your waist to maintain your balance as he brings you to his car.

“caleb? is that you?” you voice was slurred, cheeks a bit redder than usual, and you couldn’t look at him straight. “yeah, it’s me,” caleb replies, unlocking his car and settling you on the passenger seat.

“are we going home?” you asked him. he hums in reply, “yep, we are. hold on tight, okay?”

-

as soon as caleb returned you to your place, he gently laid you on your bed. he searches for your makeup remover in your room and grabs a cotton pad to pour some product on it. his hands were gentle on you as you stirred from time to time as the cotton pad came into contact with your skin.

“hold still, pips. your mascara is a bit tricky to remove,” he says. 

when caleb is done, he stays with you as he sits by your bedside. there was a comfortable silence as caleb admires you. you were probably sleeping now; the soft rise and fall of your chest was proof of that. yet when you shifted your head in his direction, caleb never would’ve expected what he was about to hear.

“you wanna know why i don’t tell you that i love you?”

“sure, pips.”

“i know i don’t say it much...” a yawn comes in between. “honestly, i only refuse to say it to you,” so my hunch was right. caleb thought. “yeah? and why is that?” he plays along, curious to see where this conversation would lead.

“because i feel like if i do say it... things would change. because if i told you that i love you, i know that.. it’s not like how i say it to others...” your words were still a bit slurred but caleb could decipher them. although he can’t seem to decipher what you mean by that.

you were drunk. you weren’t in your right mind. yet that stupid saying that he hears ever so often when he’s the one out for drinks echoes in his head; drunk words are sober thoughts. before his mind could trail any further, you spoke again. 

“i love you, caleb.” 

the way you said it was quiet and easy to miss, yet caleb caught every single word in his ear—he never misses a word you say. he didn’t—no, he couldn’t say anything. the shock on his face was too evident (though you couldn’t really notice it as your vision is still in a daze).

caleb doesn’t know if he should believe it. 

this is what he wanted to hear, right? well, he got it. but he didn’t expect to hear it from your drunken state.

“i kno—”

“no, you don't,” you cut him off. “you have no idea, actually. i.. i don’t love you like how i love my friends. i love you more than that.” his breath hitches at your words. is this really happening? he still doesn’t know he should believe it. but solely because of the fact that caleb loves you too, he’s willing to accept whatever you would give him. 

so whether this may or may not be due to the alcohol, he’ll be damned.

-

when the next morning came rolling around, your head throbbed.

everything was blurry when you opened your eyes. but you couldn’t mistake the familiar handwriting on a pink sticky note by your bedside table. for your hangover :) it said. you knew that was caleb’s handwriting from anywhere.

getting up, you took the medications that were stuck with the note and went to the kitchen. you glance at the bag—caleb’s bag, to be specific—that’s placed on the sofa. only by then did you wonder how you got home last night but you just assumed that your friends contacted caleb based on his bag on the sofa. the sound of eggs cracking and the stove being on made you aware of his presence in your place.

“hi.” you say, voice still raspy since you just got up. “hey there, pips. feeling better?”

“kinda. sorry that you had to take me home last night but thanks either way.”

“no biggie. good thing that you had me as your emergency contact, huh?” 

“yeah..” 

as caleb continues to busy himself in your kitchen to prepare some breakfast, you sat yourself by the table. “hey... did i do something stupid last night? you know, since i was drunk and all.” you could see caleb freeze for a moment before he replies. “nope. why do you ask?” he doesn’t look back.

caleb had a habit of avoiding your gaze whenever he lies. and that’s precisely what he’s doing right now. suddenly, it all came crashing to you like a strong wave. from the moment he arrived at the bar to the moment you fell asleep to him playing with your hair as a way to help you, you remembered it all.

“you’re lying.”

“i’m not, pips.” he says as he finishes cooking the second egg. he was done with breakfast at this point so you took this as a chance to corner him. turning off the stove beside him, you caged him in your arms as they placed themselves on each of his sides. “cornering me now, huh?”

“i said something last night, didn’t i?”

caleb avoids your gaze. got you.

“you didn’t. you just rambled about some nonsense that i couldn’t really understand,” he tells you. “oh, so i didn’t say that i love you?” you pry further. caleb’s eyes seemed to widen at you as soon as he heard that. “i did, didn’t i?”

“you—you didn’t.”

“there’s no use in lying, caleb.”

the adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he visibly gulped. “...fine. you did. happy? you say it anyone anyway.”

“yeah. who knew that all i needed was liquid courage?”

what?

“what? why do you look so shocked at that?” you asked him. “i.. i thought you were just drunk. i mean, you do say i love you to everyone over the smallest things.” he answers. “well, you were the only exception to that. i told you, didn’t i? i don’t love you like how i love my friends but more than that. more than friends. to tell you the truth, i’d rather die than be just friends with you.”

“i don’t wanna be your friend anymore, caleb—i want more than that.”

he was silent for a moment. but he leans closer, just close enough for your noses to touch. your hands weren’t trapping him now as he puts his forehead against yours, sighing in relief. your eyes never left his face as he did this. “can you repeat that for me, pips?” he asks. “repeat what?” you ask back.

“that you love me.”

“i love you—hmf!”

caleb presses his lips against yours, hands pulling you against his chest as he does so. your arms found themselves around his neck, while your hands traveled up to his hair. “say it again.” caleb pulls away. you found yourself giggling at him. “i love you—” another kiss. “again.” he says. “i love you—” and another kiss.

you pull away this time, giving him a playful glare. “hey! you can’t just ask me to repeat myself and then repeat kissing me as well!” caleb chuckles at that. “sorry, i just... always wanted to do this with you.”

caleb presses one final kiss to the corner of your lips. “i love you too. more than you realize.”

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

My TV (Working Title) (Tenna x Reader) Chapter 1

I knooooooooooowwwwwwwwww I really shouldn't start another fanfic but uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....ummmmmmmmm......teebeeman cute TwT

I do plan on continuing this but we'll see what LIFE has planned for ME. Secret of the Mimic comes out Friday and I'm sure that'll launch at least 2 new fics for me because I have no impulse control, and I plan on ArtFight in July sooooo don't be surprised if this isn't updated til August. (It'll be on ao3 once it is tho)

Word count: ~4600

Your task: Find a TV. An old one. CRT, ideally. The bigger, the bulkier, the better. Doesn’t need to work, just needs to be big.

Big enough to explode dramatically when hit with a sledgehammer.

You can’t say you fully understand the vision of your friend Jodie’s short film, but she’s paying you to edit it…which means you have a vested interest in helping her film it, which means an interest in helping her get ready to film it… even if she’s not directly paying you for that part of the process. If a day of running around checking thrift stores and pawn shops meant your payday might come a bit sooner, then so be it. You’re technically not strapped for cash just yet, but contract work isn’t exactly steady--one slow month could have you running up a balance on your card that’ll take the rest of the year to pay off.

At least Jodie’s paying for your gas and will pay you back for the TV, so all you’re losing is time…though you hope Jodie will still stick to the agreement when she sees just how many stores you had to hit up.

You can’t remember if this is the fifth stop on your “tour” or the sixth, but you must look tired, for the cashier, a middle-aged woman with her greying hair in a messy bun, winces visibly when you ask about a CRT TV.

“Sorry, hun. Nobody’s donated a working CRT in…probably a decade.”

Yet you perk up, catching something in her wording. “Working? It doesn’t have to work. Just has to be a big, boxy old TV.”

She hums sympathetically. “Well we don’t tend to keep--” She stops suddenly, her face lighting up as she snaps her fingers. “Oh! You know what, I think there is one out back! Or at least there was last night…I assume it’s still there?”

“Can I take a look?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’ll show you,” she says. She grabs her keys from beside the register, walking you through the store and out the back employee entrance to a small alleyway.

The dumpster behind the store is overflowing with donations that had been deemed in too poor of shape to sell, all in various combinations of torn, stained, dirty, and broken. You see a sofa that’s so torn to shreds that most people couldn’t be paid to take it…and yet someone had donated it expecting it to be sold.

“Someone came by with a truckload yesterday. Emptying out an abandoned storage unit, I think,” she says. “Some of it was sellable, this wasn’t,” she explains, nudging the TV with her boot. “Is it about what you’re lookin’ for?”

“Oh yeah, this looks great!” you say, crouching down to look at the TV. It’s pretty dirty--covered in so much dust some of it has actually become caked on. The antennae are folded in, at least mostly--one antenna has a bit of tape on it that prevents it from being fully tucked in. The power cord is so frayed that you think plugging it in might be a fire hazard. But the TV can be cleaned up and made to at least look like it’s in good shape even if it doesn’t actually work.

“Exactly what I need,” you add, picking at a clump of dirt with your nail. You rest a hand atop the TV, leaning on it briefly as you pull yourself to your feet. “How much?”

She laughs. “It’s not sellable. So I can’t ‘sell’ it. But if you wanna bring your car around you can load it up.”

“Free? Really?” you say, surprised.

She shrugs, waving a hand. “The paperwork isn’t worth what I’d end up charging for it.”

“Heh…well, thanks!” you say. Maybe if you tell Jodie the TV ended up being free, she won’t balk at the gas bill so much.

One cordial handshake later, the TV is officially yours. You bring your car around and load up the TV into the trunk and finally head home. When you arrive in your apartment’s parking lot, the sky is tinged yellow from the pending sunset and the shadows stretch long across the pavement.

Getting the clunky CRT into your apartment is a hell of a task. Park close to the door, carry the TV to the elevator, then push it down the long hall to your apartment. It’s too heavy to lift for more than a few seconds at the time, and even the brief walk to the elevator has you setting it down a couple times to rest for a couple seconds before continuing. 

But, you’re able to get it up to your third floor apartment at last, and you shove it into a corner of your mostly empty room.

The apartment itself is a two bedroom, though really you probably should have just gone for the one bedroom. You use the second bedroom as an office, and the living room had, at one point, been intended as a place to host guests, but you’ve ended up doing far less of that than you’d anticipated. You’ve even moved your flatscreen into the office, leaving behind an empty TV stand and a living room even less equipped to hosting anyone.

Once the TV’s in place--next to an empty TV stand that definitely isn’t strong enough to hold an old CRT--you glance down at yourself, wincing at the dust and dirt from the TV that’s now all over your T-shirt.

You debate with yourself a moment before deciding to just clean up the old thing a bit. Moving it is difficult enough without also getting streaks of dirt all over your clothes every time you lift it. Besides, Jodie will probably want it somewhat clean for the shot she’s planning.

You grab the kit you usually use for cleaning up your computer--some compressed air, alcohol wipes, and a handful of Q-tips. Probably a bit more thorough than you need for an old TV that doesn’t even work and is going to be destroyed soon anyway….but you figure if you’re going to do it, you may as well do it right.

You’re surprised at how much dust and dirt come away with the wipes, given how much has already come off onto your shirt, but that only solidifies your decision to give it a thorough cleaning. You at least have the sense to cover your nose and mouth with your shirt before getting to work with the compressed air, though once you see the size of the dust cloud that rises from the TV’s vents you wonder if you should have dug around in your closet to see if you still have any N95 masks left.

You use a damp Q-tip to clean around the dials and the edges of the screen. By the time you’re done, the TV looks…well, not new, but at least like it’s been kept in a house and taken care of for the past few decades.

As you’re putting away your cleaning supplies, you wince when you notice how dark it’s gotten outside. There’s still a hint of sun on the horizon, but it won’t be there much longer.

You quickly gather up the trash from your kitchen and head downstairs to the dumpster. You’ve already put off taking out the trash for about two days longer than you should have. You hate taking it out at night, especially since building maintenance has been pretty slow to replace some of the bulbs in the parking lot’s lights. But, you manage to toss the bags away just as the sun slips below the treeline.

Finally, after a day of driving from store to store, hauling a huge TV, then cleaning said TV, you can relax for the night.

Or so you think.

You lock the door behind yourself and step into the living room, where you immediately notice that something is amiss.

Something is very amiss.

Comedically amiss, even.

Where the CRT had once sat, now sits a man. An impossibly tall man with a TV--with the perplexing addition of a cartoonishly long nose--as his head. He’s too tall to even stand up in your apartment--instead he’s seated on the floor, his knees tucked against his chest. 

“There you are!” he cries happily in a staticy, showman-y voice. He crawls towards you with a big grin on his face. “My new favoritest Lightner! Thank you ever so much for taking me home and fixing me up and--” He cuts himself off, canting his head. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

Your back is pressed against the wall, your eyes wide and your shoulders tense. Your hands are held up, your fingers curled like claws as your body instinctively prepares to defend itself from the massive creature shuffling towards you.

And he asks “what’s the matter?” as if you’re reacting strangely to a giant TV-headed man in your apartment!

Before you can recover your wits enough to answer, he frowns, tilting his head in the opposite direction.

“Wait…you’re not a Lightner!” he says, his antennae straightening in surprise.

He lowers his head, leaning forward until his nose is nearly poking you in the chest. You close your eyes, covering your face with your hands. You’d probably fall to the floor in a heap if doing so wouldn’t mean colliding with his nose on the way down.

“Hmm…but you’re certainly no Darkner…” he says, his gloved hand rubbing his “chin” in thought. He shifts his gaze to your face and he flinches when he sees how frightened you are.

“O-Oh! ‘Scuse me! Shouldn’t sit too close to the screen! Especially in the dark!” he laughs apologetically as he shuffles backwards, still on his hands and knees. His antennae are almost bumping against the low ceiling of your apartment as it is.

Your knees give out and you slide down the wall, your trembling hands still covering your face.

This can’t be real. It just can’t. What the hell kind of hallucinogens had you inhaled when cleaning that old TV? You’ve clearly lost your damn mind!

The TV man pulls back even further when he sees your distress. “A-Ah!” he says, nervous beads of sweat appearing in the staticy white image that makes up his “face”. “I-I suppose this is…shocking! Me being…like this…outside the Dark World!”

Don’t indulge the delusion. Wait for it to pass. Whatever you inhaled will wear off. Surely you just need to wait it out? You’ll recover or sober up or…whatever…and it’ll all go back to normal!

But you can’t help yourself.

“I-I…have no idea what you’re talking about!” you admit, cringing internally at how meek and timid your voice sounds.

“Aha, right! Proper introductions are in order!” He clears his throat, then raises one hand to his face to push in his nose, flattening his face. The screen goes dark for a half second before loud, triumphant music begins to play, accompanied by some kind of low-resolution video. 

“It is now time…for our feature presentation!! (Feacher…!!) Coming straight from YOUR house…coming straight from your house!! COMING! He’s the 1!! COMING!! The KING of ONLY!! He’s groovy! And NEVER glooby! You can’t get this from an egg!! The sensation of your screen! The show that makes you SCREAM!! Say it with him folks!!

Mr. (Ant) Tenna’s T~V~TIIIIMMMMME~!!!”

Once it’s done, the screen returns to the white static that is his “face”, his nose reappearing with a cartoony “pop!”.

The whole sequence does little to ease your confusion…though the fear is at least fading. You lower your hands, adjusting your position so you’re sitting with your back against the wall rather than cowering against it.

“Um…”

“And who do we have the honor of speaking with tonight?” he asks, a microphone appearing in his hand, which he holds out to you.

“E-Erm…” you squeak awkwardly.

“Hmmmm?” he hums in an almost playful tone as he holds the mic just a bit closer. The cartoony smile on his screen is huge but…there’s also a gentleness there. As if he’s trying to coax you out of your shell.

Finally, you manage to speak your name, albeit a bit haltingly.

His grin widens. “I shoulda guessed! A perfect name for a perfect sorta-Lightner!” he crows.

You laugh weakly, your cheeks warming at the bit of flattery despite the situation. “A-And…you said you’re…um, Mr. Ant Tenna?”

He nods. “Tenna to my friends, my friend!” The slight head tilt and the cartoony “pling!” noise that accompanies it suggest he would be winking if he had eyes.

Again it’s hard not to smile at the quip…and the fact that, intentional or not, he’d answered your question before you’d even had a chance to ask it. “A-Alright…Tenna…” you say, slowly starting to relax. You’re not entirely convinced this is real, but…it seems to be at least…not dangerous? “M-Mind…explaining…what’s going on?” you ask tentatively.

Tenna laughs. “Well, it’s quite simple!” he says, holding up one finger and waving it slightly, poised like a man about to explain a complicated topic in three or less easily digestible sentences. “You see--” He freezes suddenly, his mouth fixed in his usual big grin.

Your brows drift slightly upwards.

“...I simply don’t know!” he says, his grin turning mildly apologetic as a laugh track echoes around you.

Your shoulders slump. Maybe this is just a dream…one you’re not creative enough to fill in fully. Still… “Wh-What were you saying before? Something about…Lightners? Darkners? And…a-a…Dark World?”

“Ah! Right!” he says. “I can get you up to speed on that, no problem! Y’see, there’s the Dark World and the Light World, Darkners and Lightners.” He places a hand on his chest. “I’m a Darkner, and you…well, seem to be mostly a Lightner.”

You shake your head. “Um, I’m a human, actually…” you say hesitantly.

Tenna nods patiently, unsurprised by your comment. “Which is a type of Lightner!” he says. It’s almost as if he’d anticipated such a response.

“I…see…” you say uncertainly. “But I’ve never…heard of that. Or Darkners, or the Dark World…”

Another nod. “Most Lightners haven’t! And, since they don’t know about the Dark World or Darkners, they have no reason to think of their world as the Light World nor themselves as Lightners! To them, it’s just the world! And they’re just--” He pauses, his smile looking a bit more like a wince before his bright grin returns. “--NERS!” he declares proudly.

You give a weak laugh, sensing that last bit was a joke. “Right…So then…what’s a Darkner?”

“Residents of the Dark World! The place where light doesn’t reach. Darker than dark, where imagination takes hold and is made real!”

“Imagination…?”

“Imagination made REAL!” he says pointedly, emphasizing the last word. Blue flashing text appears on his screen spelling out the word “REAL!” in bold letters.

“And…I’m now imagining a TV as…a giant TV-headed man?” you ask skeptically.

Tenna’s expression falters and his antennae seem to drop. “...A-A TV?” You can barely process the remark before his bright grin reappears. “I-I mean! Yes! Er, no! Not…you’re not imagining anything! This is how I am in the Dark World! I’m quite real!”

You frown, glancing around despite knowing full well you’re in your apartment. “But we’re not in the Dark World…are we?”

He mimics your thoughtful frown, finally adjusting himself to sit crosslegged, propping his elbow on his knee and resting the bottom of his TV-head on his palm. He has to hunch over to an almost comedic degree to keep his antennae from hitting the ceiling. “No, definitely not! But I’m not so sure it’s the Light World, either…”

“Why not?” you ask.

“Well, aside from all this,” he says, gesturing at himself with both hands, “It just…doesn’t feel like the Light World…” The showmanship fades from his tone, his voice becoming quiet, almost somber.

“How so?” you ask curiously.

Tenna laughs awkwardly. “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you! It’s just a feeling.”

“What’s the Light World like?” you ask, getting to your feet and taking a step towards him.

“Almost exactly like this one,” he says thoughtfully. “In fact…I’m…not even sure how long I’ve been in this world…I was thrown away at some point,” he says with a frown, his shoulders tensing. “Then I…” His frown deepens. “I…I don’t know what happened next. I don’t…even remember how I ended up in that storage unit…” His tone makes it sound like it’s just as much a revelation to him as it is to you. His frown grows more melancholy and his antennae droop.

You open your mouth to speak, then close it again. What could you possibly say? What do you say to a living TV that seems to be lamenting being thrown away?

Before you can summon an answer to that question, Tenna’s mood turns on a dime and he brightens. His antennae perk back up and he leans forward towards you. “But I’m sure glad I did!” He touches his index fingers together shyly, red circles appearing on his screen as he glances away with a bashful smile. “If it meant being found by a nice Light--er, human who’d clean me up and take care of me!”

The awkward, almost pained laugh you let out barely sounds like a laugh to you, but Tenna doesn’t seem to notice. Dream or no, you really don’t want to tell him the true reason you’d been on the hunt for a CRT.

“Now! I’ll bet you’re excited to watch all your favorite shows on your brand new TV!” he says in a playfully smug tone. “So, why don’t you whip up some popcorn and I’ll find us something good!” he says. His face begins flickering as if flipping through channels…though all the channels are the same white static.

“I don’t have any--” you start in a faint protest. You pause, frowning up at him in confusion. “Can we even watch TV on you when your cord’s broken?”

“Oh sure! Don’t need electricity in this form, I run on good ol’ Tenna-Watts!” he says cheerfully. His smile fades a bit as he continues flipping through channels. “Although…I can’t seem to find a signal…”

“You’re an analogue TV, aren’t you? They uh…kinda moved to digital like…ten years ago?” you say hesitantly.

Tenna pauses, staring at you. His screen goes blank, which causes his nose to disappear as well. His head slumps forward and he turns away, his antennae drooping. “O-Oh. S-So I. I can’t…I can’t really…I wouldn’t be…very useful…as a TV…would I?”

He’s so dejected that he actually seems a bit smaller as he slumps forward miserably, but you quickly rush over to him.

“H-Hey, don’t say that!” you say quickly, the words spilling out of your mouth before you really think about what you’re saying. “We could buy an adapter--”

His gaze snaps to you so abruptly you have to duck to avoid being beamed by his nose as it reappears. He grins brightly, red circles appearing on his cheeks as he leans forward. “An adapter? You’d buy an adapter? For me?” he asks giddily, cupping his screen in his hands.

You falter a moment. Despite your phrasing, you’d meant the remark as a hypothetical, not a plan…certainly not a promise. You’re still not completely sure this is even real…maybe it is a dream and whatever promises you make actually don’t matter. But…even if it’s not…how expensive can an adapter be?

If Tenna thinks anything of your slight pause--or even notices it--he gives no indication, continuing to beam down at you eagerly.

“Uhm, s-sure…Yeah, I can do that…”

“Oh thank you!” he cries eagerly, clapping his hands while the sound of applause plays. “And in the meantime, if you want to hook up a VCR or DVD player or game console…?”

You stare at him a moment before letting out an awkward laugh.

Tenna’s antennae twitch in confusion. “Oh? Did you have something else in mind?”

You shake your head, smiling weakly up at him. “Not…as such, but…you’re…a…a giant TV-man from another world…a-and this is all so…impossible…”

He scoffs playfully, waving a hand. “Can’t be that impossible if it’s happening!”

You sputter a moment, trying to come up with a counterpoint, but none presents itself. “I…suppose you’re right,” you admit. “But…still…just sitting down to watch TV after all that seems…so mundane…”

“Takes a bit of mundanity to wind down the day, doesn’t it?” he says. “Besides, why go to all that trouble of cleaning me up if you don’t wanna watch TV?” he adds in a smug, cheeky tone.

You manage to stop yourself from flinching too visibly at that question, but you’re sure a brief look of nausea still passed over your face. 

“I--I s-suppose…”

“Then it’s settled!” he declares with a clap of his hands. “You go pick out your games or movies or whatever you want and I’ll do the rest!”

“Heh…” you chuckle thinly. “S-Sure, Tenna…” You consider a moment…as tempting as it is to dig out your old SNES and see if the rumors of old games looking better on CRTs is true, you don’t think your brain can handle anything resembling thinking and strategy right now. Certainly not anything involving reflexes either. So perhaps best to stick with a movie. You glance up at him. “What kind of movies are you into?”

“A--!” He stops, his mouth open in surprise and subtle pink blush lines appearing on his cheeks. “M-Me?” He lets out a hearty laugh, waving his hand and shaking his head. “Oh, silly! I’m the TV!”

You pause, regarding him thoughtfully. You…suppose it’s not that weird that he’d truly have no opinion--or that his opinion would be that you should pick the movie--but he’s clearly flattered that you’d asked.

So for tonight, you’ll oblige and make the pick yourself. Tomorrow--

--Would he even be here tomorrow? Suddenly you find yourself hoping he will be.

“...Right,” you say, trying not to seem too deflated as you give him a bracing smile.

You sidestep around him, crouching in front of your empty TV stand and opening one of the drawers. You pull out your PS3 and its wires, setting them atop the TV stand. Your newer consoles are in the office with your TV, but you doubt Tenna has an HDMI port. So, older console it is, even if you’re just using it as a DVD player.

Tenna scoops up the console and its wires and you glance over at him, watching as he plugs the wires into the back of his head and holds the PS3 in his hands. 

As for the movie, you grab a couple DVDs of lighthearted cartoons. You close the drawer and get to your feet, and are surprised to see the PS3 already powered on, the menu screen displayed on Tenna’s (once again noseless) face.

“Wh--How’s it on? It’s not plugged in…?” you ask.

“Tenna-Watts!” he chirps proudly.

“Right…” you say again, a bemused smile on your face. You put one of the movies in, then take a seat on the couch, lazily tossing a fuzzy throw blanket over your legs.

Once the disc is in, Tenna sets the PS3 on the floor beside him, then tucks his knees to his chest. He wraps his arms around his legs and rests his screen on his knees…more or less acting as his own TV stand, albeit a very tall one.

You find yourself watching him more than the movie, barely paying attention to the plot as you try to process everything he’s said. You suppose “another world” is as plausible an explanation for a twenty-foot tall TV man as any. An old TV turning into a guy is already so far beyond the realm of possibility…how can you say anything except “Sure, why not?” to whatever explanations are given?

“Can you…actually see the movie?” you ask eventually.

He doesn’t move, keeping his screen angled towards you, but you see the lines of his mouth appear over the movie as he speaks. “No, but I feel it.”

“Feel it?” you repeat. “What…what does it feel like?” you ask, intrigued.

He pauses the movie, though his face doesn’t fully reappear. “Hmmm…interesting question! I suppose…it feels like colors. Sounds. Music…it feels like a story!”

You stare at him a moment before giving a soft chuckle. What sort of answer had you expected? “Well…a-as long as you’re not sitting there bored, I guess…”

“Bored? Not at all!” He frowns slightly. “Are you? We can put in something else--you don’t have to finish it for my sake!”

“Oh, no, I’m fine!” you reassure him quickly. “I just…wanted to make sure you were doing alright…”

His antennae perk slightly in surprise and the pink circles that appear on his cheeks stand out starkly against the paused movie. “Oho, you! Of course I’m just peachy! I’m a brand new TV all cleaned and polished and set up for movie night! I couldn’t be better!” he says in a chipper tone.

Your cheeks warm at his enthusiasm and his smile is infectious. “Heh…well, that’s…good…” you say, awkwardness making you feel a bit shy.

Tenna’s grin widens before disappearing, and he resumes the movie, sensing the conversation is over.

Before the movie’s over, you adjust yourself to be laying on the couch, your head resting on the pillowed armrest. Tenna’s height actually makes the position more comfortable--you don’t have to lay on your side or with your head turned ninety degrees to see the TV. You can lay on your back with your head angled only slightly towards him.

As the credits roll, you almost tell Tenna you’re too tired for a second movie, but he switches out the DVD before you can even think about sitting up. So you stay put, letting your eyelids get heavy as the second movie plays.

Maybe hauling the CRT up the stairs and then having your sense of reality severely questioned has taken more out of you than you’d realized. Or maybe it’s just time for the dream to end. Either way, you find yourself drifting off far more readily than you’d thought you ever could under such unusual circumstances…it’s not even a third of the way through the second movie when your eyes fall shut.

*

Tenna can immediately tell when you’ve fallen asleep. Lightners dozing off in front of the TV is a very familiar sight to him, after all. Still, he waits for the movie to play out and for the credits to roll before turning off the PS3. He unplugs the cords from the back of his head and quietly tucks the PS3 and the DVDs back into the drawer on the TV stand.

He leans forward, shuffling towards you slightly, careful not to bump the coffee table. He picks up the blanket from the floor and carefully spreads it over you as you sleep. You stir slightly, snuggling into the blanket and it’s all he can do not to let out a delighted little squeak.

Blankets knocked askew had always been a sad sight for him. He likes doing what he can to give anyone who falls asleep in front of him a good night’s rest, though those abilities had been highly limited until now. In the Light World, he could only dim his screen slightly and lower the volume just a touch. Sometimes if he really focused he could switch off the screen and let the Lightners think they’d done it themselves at some point in the night.

But the simple act of adjusting some blankets? Absolutely out of the question.

What a wonderful world this must be to let him finally do that small gesture for his dear Lightner! Well, almost Lightner. Basically a Lightner. A Lightner to him.

Tenna smiles softly, leaning back against the wall and watching you sleep. He’s loved all the Lightners who’ve had him, but…there’s something different about you. About this world.

He thinks…He thinks he’ll like it here!

[cowboybeepboop]

Doting

"Say it again. Say you want me."

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: smut 

Word count: 3k

a/n: Finally writing about this Clark Kent 😝 I'm so excited for the movie chat

Clark is your best friend, the only person who has seen every side of you and continues to stay. He has been there for you through everything, every breakup, when you ran away from home (and moved in with the Kents), every year of school, all of it. 

After graduation you moved out to Gotham together, something the two of you had dreamed of your whole lives. Clark smiled at you with his familiar warm grin, watching you as you raked through your hair and huffed a sigh, frustration coming off you in waves. 

The two of you had just moved into the small little apartment in Gotham and it was nowhere near as spacious as you guys thought, you both had underestimated just how many things you owned, and how much furniture you needed between the two of you 

"Having fun unpacking?" Clark teased quietly, as he effortlessly took all your possessions in one trip from the car. 

"Ugh, not at all." you wipe the sweat beads from your forehead, still shocked at how easily he's able to move things around. "This place.. it's so much smaller than the pictures." 

"I think we were a bit too excited..." he chuckled nervously, looking around at the messy apartment. There were still boxes everywhere, the space looking incredibly cramped and cramped. 

"We're gonna need a lot of shelves, cupboards, and a better couch. It's a bit on the small side" he teased, a fond smile gracing his face.

"But right now I need a nap," you whine, walking to him and pressing your face into his bicep. "Even though you did all the heavy lifting."

Clark chuckled, feeling your face pressed into his arm. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gave a soft squeeze, his muscles tense beneath your touch. "Go on, take a rest. I'll finish organizing and decorating" he said soothingly, ruffling your hair.

"Come with me, I can't let you do all of the work." you pull your face from him, grinning up at him sweetly. You wander into one of the rooms, plopping onto the plush mattress, Clark at your heels. 

Clark chuckled and shook his head, rolling his eyes and sitting down beside you. The bed gave a loud creak beneath both of your weights, and you could feel his thigh against your own, their strong muscles pressed against your skin. 

He leaned back against the headboard, resting his arms behind his head. "You're gonna be useless anyway, might as well let you rest" he teased lovingly.

"Hey!" you feign offense, pushing his shoulder slightly. "I think I should've grabbed the sheets before laying down," you murmur, cuddling closer to him.

Clark chuckled and shrugged, pulling you even closer. The heat from his muscular frame seemed to envelop you, his body providing more warmth than a heater. 

"I can get them later" he murmured, his voice deep and low, a tinge of amusement in his tone. He allowed his arm to remain wrapped behind your shoulders, his fingers tracing slow circles against your skin

Weeks have passed since you both moved in, and you've gotten into a routine of things, spending practically every second together (aside from when you're at work of course). 

Clark was struggling, balancing his secret life with the feelings he had for you. He had grown to love, admire, and desire you more than he had anyone else. His heart ached for you, to hold and kiss you, to love you and cherish you. He kept himself in check, however, knowing he could never reveal his true identity. 

Clark would still do everything for you, whether it was help around the house, do the cooking, cleaning, and shopping. His heart leaped every time he saw you, he constantly fought the urge to pull you close.

The two of you had a day off from work, and Clark was lounging on the couch, trying to focus and read the newspaper. But every time he tried, his eyes would wander away, looking over to you as you were tidying up. 

Watching you move around the apartment effortlessly, with a grace he couldn't keep in his eyes. He couldn't help but notice the way your hair fell around your face, and the way your clothes clung to your body.

The day drags on with casual interactions between the two of you, leading to you half asleep on the couch, head in his lap as a movie plays in the background. 

Clark smiled down at you fondly, looking away from the movie for a few seconds. One arm was around you, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your shoulder and arm. 

He couldn't help but think how incredible it would be to have you this close, and closer, all the time. He loved having you in his arms, feeling you against his body, the smell of your hair. 

Clark slowly lifted his other hand, slowly running his fingers through your hair, enjoying the silky feeling. "Mmm Clark, you're gonna put me to sleep," you murmur, fingers pressing into his thigh as your eyes begin to flutter shut.

Clark chuckled and looked down at you, his fingers continuing to move through your hair. He could feel your hand on his leg, the feeling sending a shiver down his spine. 

"Maybe that's my plan, sleepyhead." he teased back, his muscles tense beneath your touch. His other hand still traced over you, the movements becoming soothing and slow.

Half of you wants nothing more than to go to sleep in his lap, surrounded by his body heat, and the other part of you is desperate to find out how the movie ends. "But the movie..." You groan in protest.

"I'm pretty sure the movie will survive without you watching it" he said in amusement, his voice deep and rumbling as his fingers continued to move through your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. 

He chuckled feeling you shift against him, trying to stay awake. He could feel his self-control slowly slip away as you continued to lay against his leg, the heat from your body sending his mind down dark, sinful paths.

Your half-hearted protest quickly dies on your tongue. Your head grows heavy as you drift off to sleep, only to be awoken by Clark gently placing you on your bed. "Clark," you whisper. 

Clark's muscles strain as he lifts you and places you on the bed. His fingertips linger, tracing across your skin. He leans down and brushes a few strands of hair from your forehead before looking down at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. 

"Yeah?" he replied quietly, his voice a deep murmur, sounding even deeper in the darkness of the room.

"Don't go..." you reach for him, pulling him to you by his shirt sleeve. "Stay, keep me warm." 

Clark felt his self-control vanish, he couldn't say no to you. When your hand grabbed his sleeve and tugged, he stumbled and fell into the bed, landing beside you. 

A soft chuckle left his lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his. "You're really tired, huh?" he teased quietly.

"Mhm, I want you..." you murmur sleepily, burying your face in his warm chest, breathing in his musk.

Clark's heart leaped at your words, his muscles tensing and stiffening. You couldn't have any idea what you did to him, how he felt. How much he wanted you in return. 

He swallowed, feeling you press your face into his chest. The feel of you against him sent a shiver down his spine, your words making him want to pull you close and kiss you. Instead, he gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"Then I'll stay" he whispered, his voice deep and rough. His fingers ran through your hair, relishing the feeling of your body pressed against his own. He tried to keep control, he had to keep control. 

Clark could feel himself slowly losing the battle, his mind going to sinful places. He imagined pulling you even closer, rolling on top of you, and taking you on the bed right there. He wanted you so badly, more than he had anyone else. 

Hours have passed with you napping against him and Clark restlessly staring at the ceiling, avoiding moving in order to not wake you. A soft noise leaves your parted lips, something resembling a moan, capturing his attention. 

Clark felt his muscles tense and stiffen as he heard the sound leave your lips. His eyes were locked on your face, staring down at you.  The noise had gone straight to his lower regions. 

His eyes roved over you, taking in every detail, every feature, the way your skin looked in the low light, and the way your shirt was pushed up, revealing a small slice of flesh on your stomach. He tried to fight the thoughts, to keep them in check.

Your hand resting on his chest begins to tighten, your nails digging into his skin slightly. Your panties are soaked, evidence of your heated dream, and more nearly silent moans escape your mouth. 

Clark clenched his jaw at the feeling of your nails scratching his skin, his head tilting back and shutting his eyes. He swallowed, his throat going dry as he struggled to maintain control. 

He could smell your intoxication in the air, the evidence of your desires slowly making him lose his control. He tried to remain still, to keep his body under control as you squirmed and pressed against him in your sleep.

You're desperate for friction, hips mindlessly grinding against nothing, your cunt aching to be filled. You gasp, hand gripping his chest tighter as you startle awake. 

Clark's eyes snapped open as you startled awake, his own muscles tightening as he felt your body writhe against him. His hand immediately went to your hip, his fingers pressing into your skin. 

He tried to keep his breathing steady, his mind reeling and going to sinful places as he tried to keep control. He could feel the tension in the room, his body struggling to remain still.

Your cheeks flush immediately, eyes wide as you realize the position you're in. But you recognize the darkness of desire in his eyes, beckoning you, and without thinking you move to straddle him. "Clark.." 

Clark couldn't control himself anymore, the dark desire he had barely managed to hold onto slipped from his control. As soon as you straddled him, he grabbed you and pulled you even closer to his body, his hands gripping your hips tightly. 

He panted, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps, his blue eyes locked on yours. "God, you kill me" he groaned. His muscles were tense, his body nearly trembling under your touch.

"Clark," you begin rocking your hips against his, body aching for more of his touch. "I *need* you.. I *want* you..." 

Clark's breathing was heavy and ragged as he felt you rocking your hips against him. The feel of you, the sounds you made, it was driving him insane, and his already thin control snapped. 

His hands gripped your hips, holding you tightly. He needed you just as much, more than you could ever know. 

"You don't know what you do to me," he groaned in a deep, rough voice, his eyes darkened with desire.

Clark's mind was clouded with desire, his thoughts consumed with you. His hands gripped your hips tighter as you continued to rock against him. The low moan he let out sounded almost feral, his control of his inner self slipping. 

"Say it again," he growled desperately, needing to hear your pleas. "Say you want me."

"I want you, Clark, please." You pull your shirt off, freeing your breasts to his hungry gaze, hands moving to pull at his clothes.

Clark's eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the sight of you, his breath leaving him in a low curse. Your words drove him further, made him lose more control, his mind going black. 

He allowed you to pull at his clothes, his own hands ripping at the fabric, trying to get his shirt off as quickly as possible. He ached for you and needed to feel your bare skin on his.

You press your bare chest to his, skin to skin, as you slide out of your bottoms. Your lips press against his chest as you move down his body, leaving wet kisses behind, only stopping once you reach the waistband of his sweatpants. 

Clark's mind was nothing but a dark, clouded haze of desire and want. His body was on fire, every touch from you sending sparks down his spine. He let out a low, rough moan as he felt your lips against his skin, the kisses making him shiver. 

When you reached his waistband, he could barely hold back the sound he made, his heart racing in his chest. He tried to control his strength, to keep from bucking and pressing into your touch and mouth.

"Is this okay?" you whisper, nose brushing against his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. 

Clark's breath was ragged and unsteady, his chest rising and falling heavily. He could hardly form a coherent thought, his mind consumed with the feeling of you against him. 

When you moved down and spoke, he almost saw stars, every part of him tensed and shivered. "God, yes," he groaned, his fingers clenching the sheets beneath him.

You pull his remaining clothes away, eyes widened at the sight of his length, something you've imagined time and time again. But your imagination is nothing compared to the real thing. You wrap both hands around his hardness, leaning forward to kiss his tip.

Clark's breath hitches as you kiss his tip, his eyes closing tightly as his body responds to your touch. He's never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so alive with anticipation. His grip on the sheets tightens as you begin to stroke him, your touch tentative yet eager. 

He opens his eyes to watch you, his chest heaving with every stroke, and whispers, "God, you're so beautiful." His voice is hoarse with passion, and he can't help but reach out to trace the curve of your bare shoulder, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

Encouraged by his words, you begin to stroke him more confidently, feeling the velvet steel of his manhood in your hand. Your eyes never leave his as you lean in closer, your breath hot against him. Your hand works in tandem with your mouth, taking him in inch by inch, his moans of pleasure spurring you on.

The sensation of your wet lips and the gentle pressure of your tongue send waves of desire through Clark's body. He watches as you take control, his eyes dark with need, his breathing becoming erratic as you explore his most intimate part. His hand moves to the back of your head, not pushing but rather guiding you, urging you deeper.

Your mouth is warm and wet, a stark contrast to the cool air in the room. His cock twitches and pulses in your hand and mouth, and he can't help but let out a low groan, his hips lifting slightly off the bed. The pleasure is almost unbearable, his self-control hanging by a thread as you continue to drive him wild.

The room is filled with the sweet sounds of your passionate exploration, the rustle of the sheets, and the occasional gasp as you hit that perfect spot. Clark's muscles tighten and he feels himself getting closer to the edge, but he doesn't want it to end. He wants to savor every moment of this newfound intimacy with you.

Yet, the pressure builds and he knows he can't hold out much longer. With a final groan, he lets go, filling your mouth with his warmth as his body arches off the bed, lost in the intensity of his release. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you stronger than it's ever been.

You pull back, a smear of him on your lips, looking up at him with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. You've never done this before, but the way his eyes are looking at you, the way his chest is heaving, tells you that you've done something incredibly right.

Clark's eyes are filled with a mix of love and lust, his hand still on the back of your head. He pulls you up to kiss you deeply, tasting himself on your lips, the salty sweetness mingling with your own flavor. 

The kiss is passionate and hungry as if he's trying to devour you whole. His other hand slides down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you closer, his hard length still pressed against your stomach.

The intensity of the moment is palpable, the air thick with desire. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breath mingling with yours as your tongues dance together. This is a turning point, a moment that changes everything between the two of you, and it's only just begun.

As you kiss, the tension in the room builds again, the desire between you two a palpable force. You feel a new urgency in Clark's touch, his hands roaming over your body with a gentle yet demanding need. 

You respond eagerly, your own hands exploring every inch of his bare skin, tracing the contours of his muscles. Breaking the kiss, you lean back, panting, and whisper, "I need more of you, Clark." He nods, his eyes smoldering, and gently lays you back on the bed. 

His kisses follow a trail down your neck, your chest, and towards your thighs. With a gentle nudge, he opens your legs and kisses the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sex. 

Your body responds instantly, your core tightening in anticipation. The touch of his tongue against your clit sends a shockwave through you, making you arch off the bed. His movements are deliberate and skilled as if he's known your body's secrets all along, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. 

You grip the sheets, biting down on your lower lip to muffle your cries of pleasure. Clark's eyes never leave yours, his gaze filled with love and unbridled desire as he brings you to the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced.

[dustysalmon]

I've been thinking, can we have a nsfw alphabet about Steb? (or Scar), I haven't seen anything about it yet, so we really need it. (it's really up to you, it can be sfw or nsfw)🙏🏻

Ohhhh anon, I'm so glad you asked. Here we go! (might do Scar and sfw later)

STEB NS//FW ALPHABET

More Steb headcanons

MDNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you think that fish-man is going to sleep after doing the do, you are WRONG! King of aftercare, gentle caresses on your skin, cuddles, massage (he uses special techniques he learnt during his paramedical training), and he will also be happy to cook something for you if you’re hungry. If he was a bit rougher than usual, he will kiss every sore spot on your body, for hours if you ask him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your mouth. He loves everything about your mouth. They way it moves when you talk or smile, the sounds that come out of it when he kisses you or makes love to you. He also loves the things you do to him with this mouth

On himself, he is quite proud of his hands. They’re quite soft, delicate and skilful (you definitely know something about that last one). He likes to use his hands to show you just how much he adores you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It can get a little messy due to the amount of cum he produces. It keeps dripping and dripping, it’s a lot to handle but the two of you have learnt how to deal with it. Also, Steb always cleans after himself, good fish-man that he is. The refractory period can take a while, though, but he has hands and a mouth for a reason

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to see his fluids mix with yours, like he has to see it, visually. Something about getting down and dirty

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not all that experienced, he hasn’t been with many people before. The first time you get intimate,  he will map your entire body and commit every detail to memory to learn exactly what you like. His observing skills and ability to learn make up for his lack of experience, nothing to worry about here

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Watching you ride him is his favourite, and nothing comes close. He gets to see your body AND your eyes, and that’s the most important thing to him. He is utterly and unequivocally in love with your body, and he is mesmerised by the way you move on top of him. If you hold hands while you do it, it’s all over for him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Steb doesn’t play when it comes to sex, he’s very serious (in a romantic way of course), and will be driven by the need to make you feel loved and leave you satisfied. He definitely gets a little goofier during after care

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Steb is completely hairless down there. The only hair you will find is on his head, and he takes great care of those because his species don’t usually have any. He’s quite proud of his undercut, thank you very much

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romantic like you wouldn’t believe, lots of eye contact because he always wants to make sure that you’re feeling good. Prepare yourself for a lot of intense kissing sessions. His main love language is touch, and no part of your body will be left behind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He will sometimes indulge in little solo sessions when he takes a bath. It’s a bit of a spiritual exercise for him. One time, you walked in on him jacking off, and asked him to keep going while you touched yourself too. And it has become something you really like doing

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Steb has a bit of a submissive nature, and praise really works for him. Call him a good boy and he will be done for. Sometimes you will say that in the middle of the day just to see him blush furiously. When you ride him, he really likes when you get dominant and pin his wrists above his head, that will turn him into a whimpering mess in no time

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a romantic, so the bed will be his go to. Because of his introverted nature he is not really into risky locations where there would be a chance of getting caught. He won’t say no if you wanna ride him on the couch, though. Also, shower/bath sex, he’s the most comfortable whenever there’s water around

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kiss that fish-man’s neck once, and you know neither of you will be getting out of the house for the next hour at least. It’s not that his neck is particularly sensitive, but there’s something so sensual about the way you guide his head back to have full access. He will drop whatever he’s doing and pull you into the bedroom

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t mind getting a bit rough, but he won’t slap/hit you, spit on you, or choke you. If he wraps his hand around your neck, he’s very careful not to press against your throat. If you're into that, it's something you will have to talk about

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Steb’s tongue game is unmatched. It’s much longer than humans, very strong, and it doesn’t tire easily. He will make you cum relentlessly with his mouth alone, only occasionally using his hand. He eats you out enthusiastically, moaning while he licks and sucks you all over. And most of all, he will feast on your juices and won’t leave a single drop. He just loves the taste of you

He likes receiving too. He will guide your movements ever so gently and will be extra careful not to thrust into your mouth without warning. His favourite thing is pulling all the way out, and then watch as his sizeable length disappears all the way back into your throat

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Steb doesn’t fuck, he makes love, unless you ask him to be rough. Sensual tender lovemaking all around, slow and deep while maintaining eye contact. He wants you to feel every single one of his ridges inside you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind it, but they’re not his go to. He’d rather take his time with you to show you the depth of his adoration. You usually indulge in quickies if the two of you have busy schedules

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a very curious guy, always eager to learn, and so he wants to try every position in the book. He loves the idea of exploring his sexuality with you and experimenting. It’s the same when it comes to kinks. If you wish to try something new, he’s down. If it’s something a little extreme, he will have his reservations, but he will try, for you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last very long, and you usually come multiple times before he does. However, once he has orgasmed, you will have to be patient

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, but if you have a collection of your own, he’s very curious about it and will ask you how everything works and what it is used for. He will gladly implement them in your sex life

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t really understand the concept of teasing, maybe it’s a species-related thing, but to him, it feels like he’s denying you, hurting you, and he doesn’t like that. Recently, you’ve tried to teach him that denial can be very pleasurable by teasing him during foreplay, and he is starting to understand how that works. It’s a slow process

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Steb doesn’t speak, but he will moan. A lot. He will start grunting when he’s close and his face gills will move as well. If you tease him, it won’t take long for him to whine inside a pillow or into his hand, truly a delightful sound

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sex in front of a mirror, yes please. Again, if he gets to watch you from a different angle, he’s down. Your bodies are very different, but seeing the way they mould so beautifully together, the way your body responds to his and vice-versa, that’s sacred to him 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s hidden in a genital pouch, and frees itself naturally when there’s sex in the air. Not exceedingly thick, but quite long. Multiple ridges which are ideally placed, and fins that are here for your pleasure, and your pleasure only

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

About average, he can go a long time without having sex, it doesn’t bother him. But if you tempt him, tease him, or start nuzzling and kissing down his neck, he will become very needy 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s always the last one to go to sleep because he is on aftercare duty. He just has to make sure you’re okay before doing anything else. He will stroke your head and run his fingers along your skin until you fall asleep. Sometimes, he will even hum a little tune

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Okay, so, the ask about yandere platonic dick cheating and how the reader would react has me wondering; what would happen if the reader somehow found out that Dick didn't actually change and decided to go no contact, because they couldn't trust him or maybe because they just don't want to be around someone like that? Would that cause Dick to spiral more? What exactly would be the consequences of going no contact? (Like a complete cut off, although it'd be a bit hard to do that since they live in the same house)

(I was a bit disappointed to read that he probably wouldn't change, but it seemed realistic to me because habits are hard to break and everyone in the batfam is messed up. Although, I imagine after years of therapy or something similar there might be some sort of change. But, I doubt anyone in the batfam is getting therapy... except maybe reader)

Sorry yeah, i don't like to think Dick is actually a cheater or this shitty. I just like to humor different scenarios i get requested. But you cannot deny that this man is a messy whore. THIS IS THE FACE OF EVILLL

context

Look, cheaters are so sloppy. Even the ones who put the most effort into it are always bound to slip up. I imagine batsis isn't a fool. Like Richard...no way did you just go from being a serial cheater to suddenly being completely cleansed. You're an addict baby boy.

Like i said at first he's actually wanting to get clean for his baby sis and to be a good role model. I think it'd be very obvious to you that he's actually trying. He's irritable and really struggling to cope with the fact he has to put the phone down. You can see him obsessively checking his phone for what you'd assume to be a message or notification from one of his hookups. You can tell he's torn up about loosing his partners because he came clean about his unethical practices....

There's no hiding. This is such a deep seeded issue and it is really taking a toll on him. This is something like you said will need YEARS of therapy to fix.

So now Dick is trying to bullshit you a few days later...right in front of your salad! He's just sooo happy and he's proud about this new leaf turned????? Yesterday he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears because he'd been abstinent for just 48 hrs...and now he's glowing???

Dick, your patrol ended at 2 am last night...you came home at 6 am...please don't play with me rn.

not me getting heated. lol

He doesn't explicitly tell you he's back to his old ways. He's willing to keep lying his way into keeping you and this habit but it's undeniable. You know that his gf only forgave him because he lied to her too. It makes you sick when you saw the text of him telling her that he's busy with family and then left out for the rest of the day to go be with someone else.

Maybe you explode on him about it? Last time you were as nice as you could be about it but you cannot deal with the games anymore.

I liked to think in this scenario you're yelling at him and he's just still gas-lighting you, He throws every card to make you feel bad for accusing him. It absolute drives you mad. He's just so calm while you're are trying not to strangle him.

"Baby bat, i love you. I think you're just tired and are imagining things. You're convincing yourself that i'm still the old Dick because you're hurting...i understand and I forgive you. Maybe we should set up therapy sessions to help you let go of the past? Hmm?"

"YOU MOTHER FU-"

Ugh but i love him he's so fucked

The irony of him suggesting you therapy when he's the one riddles with mommy issues and the most insane coping mechanisms...

Dick isn't going to allow you to go no contact. You cannot go no contact with someone you live in the same house with. You are bound to interact and when you are dealing with someone like dick...it just won't work. The bat kids are extremely resilient and are well versed in making someone crack. You wouldn't be the exception.

More realistically you'd probably just be cold towards Dick. That's the best you can do. Not really responding to him and basically stone walling...

But i imagine this version of Dick to be much more forceful. He's done with your self righteousness. How dare you suggest moving out. That isn't an option because he needs to see his baby sister everyday. You are breaking up the family over this. You cannot cut him off because he's flawed...it's not that serious y/n. None of the other siblings are breathing down his neck. Maybe if you weren't so frustrating..he could actually become a better person. You are the one that is preventing him from being better with all your pressure!!

You packed your bags and are fully ready to walk out of this family for good because there's just too many wrong doings swept under the rug and here comes dick who is FUMING... He's trying to rip your bags out of your hands and grab you up..

You are not doing this to him. Stop being so-

Maybe your siblings step in and help you to leave. They help Dick calm down because they respect that it's your choice to live how you'd life.

Dick isn't stopping once you're gone. Especially if you're still in Gotham. There's a shadow that follows you where you go. Tons of messages and calls from unknown numbers. Even scarily enough..a blue toy bird left at your door with a small note that read

"Missed me, my little birdie? We'll be seeing each other again soon."

[dramagodesss]

five : king of the ice

playin' the players

friday. 5:18 PM. campus library, second floor.

you were halfway through uploading jj’s portraits to the university's virtual platform when a shadow passed over your table. familiar cologne. expensive sneakers.

“winslow,” came the voice, smooth like static before a storm.

you looked up, already smirking. rafe cameron stood there, casual but very much aware of how he looked—white tee snug across his chest, hair a little messy in the way that said on purpose. eyes trained on you like he’d planned this moment.

“cameron,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “you lost, or just missed me?”

he chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching like he couldn’t help it. “nah. just saw the jj maybank thirst trap drop and thought… huh. wonder if winslow takes requests.”

you tilted your head, gaze skating over him like you were thinking about it. “i mean… if you’re hoping for your turn in the spotlight, you better bring your A-game, ice princess.”

he blinked, caught off guard—and then laughed. a real one. head tilted back, teeth flashing.

“ice princess?” he echoed, shaking his head. “they usually call me king of the ice.”

you grinned, propping your chin on your hand. “that so? why ‘king’? ‘cause of your skating? or ‘cause you’re insufferably dramatic?”

“bit of both,” he said easily. “but mostly ‘cause i’m good. like… scary good.”

“uh huh,” you drawled, clearly not sold. “guess i’ll have to see it to believe it.”

rafe leaned on the back of the empty chair across from you, voice low and a little smug. “then come to tomorrow’s match. friendly game, nothing major. but… you might like what you see.”

your brows lifted. “oh? are you inviting me to photograph you or to be impressed?”

“both,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “and maybe get coffee after. or lunch. your call.”

you pretended to think, tapping your lip once. then: “okay. but only if you shower after.”

that got him. he laughed again, mouth parted like he didn’t expect you to go there.

“deal,” he said. “clean and charming, just for you.”

you smirked, pulling your phone out like you weren’t flustered at all. “text me the time and place, your highness.”

he raised a brow, slipping his phone from his back pocket and handing it over. “thought you'd never ask. help the universe out—drop your number.”

you took it, thumbs tapping slow, deliberate, before handing it back. “winslow,” you said. “in case you forget who to thank when your pictures go viral.”

rafe glanced at the screen, then back up at you, grin sharpening into something a little more dangerous. “oh, i won’t forget.”

rafe stood, a slow grin pulling at his lips. “see you tomorrow, winslow.”

you raised your cup in a mock toast. “after the shower, remember.”

he winked. “already planning it.”

and with that, he walked off—cool, confident, and just the right amount of smug. leaving you with a phone buzzing in your pocket a second later.

rafe's phone

taglist : @beewritess @davinashifts333 @lanasangelsz @littlefreak-liz @drewstarkeyswife0 @lalaloopsieparty @ethanthequeefqueen @wtfisastiles @angelicameron @moth-feeet @drewstarkeyswife-7 @hiphopstar @cokewithcameron @cameronsbabydoll @chillgal135 @ayy1234567 @pogueprincesa @isinpfortvdmen @iheartrosalia @luvrclub

[cryingdew]

𓇼𓂃 𓈒 bad hunt with a soft end.

summary; the reader is stressed after a particularly infuriating hunt, and dean— their lover, is more than happy to be there for them when things go wrong and they need to relax.

pairing; dean winchester x gn!reader 　genre; fluff

wordcount; 2749 ( this is horrifying, it wasn't meant to go past 1500.. )

notes / warnings; none

you stumbled into the motel room, dried vampire blood coating your cheek and a scowl on your face. dean follows behind you, and the only reason you can tell is from how loud his boots are with each step he takes.

the hunt tonight had been anything but clean. after crawling out of a vampire nest barely in one piece, it didn’t even need to be said that you were beyond stressed. your eyebrows were furrowed, and your entire body is like a coiled spring, ready to pop. and when you run your hand across the dried blood, it comes off in flakes that crumble when your fingers touch them. a groan escapes your lips, and you turn your head around to look at dean behind you, and he looks just as bad. covered in the same dried blood, and his jacket has a couple of rips in the fabric. overall, he looks like a mess. just like you did.

“well, don’t we look jus’ fantastic.” dean speaks, and you can hear the sarcastic undertone— it’s hard to miss.

you laugh a little bit, and you can appreciate the sarcasm from him; it lightens the mood just a little bit. his snide remarks always did, even after the shitiest hunts. “yeah, i guess we do, dean.” his name rolls so nicely off your tongue and you give him a lopsided grin. he matches your smile, and you slowly trudge further into the motel room, flicking on the light switch and the room is bathed in a yellow-toned light.

you hear the door close behind you, and you know dean closed it behind the two of you. the motel room is a mess to say the least— papers flung everywhere and tools scattered on the floor, tables and even the bed. you remember the state you left the motel room in, you just didn’t think it would be so messy, but you shrug and just walk past the piles of papers and books. your boots are heavy when they clunk around on the floor, and dean’s steps are even heavier. but when you’re both in the confines of the room, everything outside seems to go silent in the most comforting way, and it’s just you and dean. like it has been for months.

each time a hunt goes wrong like this, both of you are just exhausted. neither of you want to do anything but take a hot shower and relax, and it seems like he knows what he wants when his arms come to wrap around your waist and he presses a kiss to your neck. a small shudder wracks your body before you tug dean’s hands off of your waist, and you turn around with an exasperated sigh and a frown on your face.

“not the time, dean. we’re both covered in dried vamp blood, and we’re filthy. later.” you stare at him, his face a little beaten up, and a smear of dried blood coats his cheek. he still has that stupid cocky grin and the smile even reaches his green eyes that you had grown so used to seeing every morning when you woke up to ‘heat of the moment’ blaring in your ears or just a normal, yet very annoying beeping. “fine, fine.. later.” he mumbles with a tone that you could only call whiny.

finally you smile softly, giving him a gentle look as you bring a hand up to touch his jaw, feeling the unshaven stubble underneath the pad of your thumb. “you gonna shave soon, baby?” you murmur the words, your eyes trailing all over his face— over his jaw, cheek, nose, eyes and those lips of his. slowly, you lean forward just enough to give dean a small peck on his lips. and all you can do is smile when he gives you that dorky grin of his.

“might, if y’give me a reason to, sweetheart.” he smiles at you when you pull away from his face, letting your hand fall back to your side, mirroring the other half of your body.

you snort with a stifled laugh and raise an eyebrow. “is that so? what kind of reason or incentive do you even need, dean?” you pose him the question, already knowing what he’s talking about. it’s kind of hard not to know with how insanely high his sex drive is. “plus, i never said i wanted you to shave it. makes you look like a real hunter, y’know.”

you turn on the heel of your boots, smiling to dean over your shoulder, and you swear you can see the cogs and gears turning in his head, almost like he didn’t know how to respond to you admitting that you didn’t mind the facial hair he had. a small laugh bubbles out of your throat as you watch him try and come up with something to say. goddamn it, he’s so fucking adorable.

as you begin to walk to the bathroom, you pull a towel that you had hung over the door to the motel’s small bathroom and throw it over your shoulder, more than eager to get cleaned up and out of your filthy clothing. you kick the door open with the toe of your boot and your spare hand flicks the light on, and you blink a couple of times, the bathroom lights blinding you slightly since they’re the only actually bright lights in the entire motel room. Tossing the towel onto the counter of the sink, you run a hand through your hair, groaning.

beginning to strip, taking off the pearl snap shirt, running your fingers in-between the seams, and hearing the snaps pop open, and the shirt begins to feel loose around your torso and shoulders. you see yourself out of the corner of your eye in the mirror, seeing the anti-possession tattoo sitting right above your heart, and that frown from earlier comes back. yes, you’re glad you have it, but at the same time, you wish you didn’t need it. but for now, you shrug the black shirt off your shoulders and down your arms, and the fabric drops to the floor in a heap at your boots. man you look like shit. soon your belt comes off, pulling it through the belt loops and letting it be the next thing to fall to the tile of the bathroom floor.

once whatever you were wearing has been stripped off of you, and all you see in the mirror is just an expanse of skin, covered in scars and red and purple bruises that are just beginning to bloom all across your torso. you knew the hunt had been messy and rough, but you weren’t expecting to be so banged up at the end of it, and with a sigh, you tear your gaze away from the mirror and you start the shower, giving the water enough time to heat up so when you step in you don’t get temperature shock.

warm steam begins to flood the space of the bathroom, the mirror growing foggy, and water starts to bead on your skin, running down each sharp and toned curve of your body. as you move, slowly stepping into the shower and the warm water runs down each plane of your skin, through your hair, and down. you hear the bathroom door open, and you know that it’s dean— who else would it be? and your thoughts are only confirmed by the sound of a belt being unbuckled and clothing dropping to the floor loudly.

while you’re scrubbing the blood, dirt and grime from your skin, running your hands all over your face, neck and shoulders, cleaning everything you can off of yourself— dean slips in the shower behind you, and you can tell from just how his hands go to immediately run through your hair, pulling it out of your face and slicking it back on top of your head. “you gonna let me help you, baby?” dean murmurs next to your ear, his other hand going to rest on your stomach while the other stays where it was and continues to card fingers through your hair, his nails soothingly scratching your scalp. goddamn it, he knows how to get you to agree to anything.

“yeah, sure, you can help i guess..” you sigh the words out, giving dean the all-clear to help you wash up, and you already know that you'll end up washing him off unless he says otherwise. and slowly you begin to feel his hands pull off and away from your body. and when they come back and begin to run all across your skin, they’re soapy and rough, trailing over your body with a practised motion, mapping out each part of you again and again every time you two shower together.

by the end of it, you’re both clean of any remnants of the hunt. his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he’s smiling at you like he’s seeing you for the first time again. standing in front of each other, and all you can do is stare at him, into those beautiful eyes of his. you’re almost jealous of how attractive he is, but it all sifts away when you remember that he’s all yours, and you couldn’t be happier. “you know, dean.. i love you.” your words grow quieter and quieter when you finally kiss him. it’s nothing like the kisses you two share at the bar after a good hunt, those ones are so visceral, all tongues and teeth. but this one is soft, meticulous and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. and hell, you just might.

dean’s hands go up and cup your cheeks, his eyes fluttering shut, and he kisses you back. these moments aren’t common enough, both of you know it, but when you get a chance and you’re like this— standing in the shower together with the water still beating down on your back, your eyes closed and your lips against his, you’re reminded of how nice the sweet, small and gentle things in your relationship. but when you both pull away, you stare at him with a look of admiration and love. “i love you too, baby. now let’s get out’a the water, yeah?”

slowly, you nod, stepping back and away from dean, pushing the shower knob in, you feel the water slowly stop. stepping out of the shower and over the edge of it, you turn your head over your shoulder and smile at dean, catching his eyes, and he smiles back at you softly. even through the foggy glass of the shower wall, you can see his smile lines, and goddamn it, he’s so sweet it might give you cavaties.

you grab the towel you had thrown onto the counter, and you run it over your face, wiping the water off yourself slowly and surely while you begin to dry your entire body off. dean’s right next to you, he pulled a towel from the cabinet, and he’s doing the same as you— drying off his entire body, from his shoulders to his hips, and then his legs. and each movement is slow and exhausted, but still eager at the prospect of being able to go to bed clean and dry.

once all is well and done, and dry, dean is the first to leave the bathroom, going to search for something to put on to sleep in, but you’re still stuck staring at yourself in the mirror, like you’ve never seen your own face before. slowly, you trace one of your hands over a scar on your lip, remembering how you got it— from some stupid fuckin’ ghoul that you failed to properly kill on one of your first hunts as a little kid. it’s not your favourite memory, and it reminds you that you were always doomed to become a hunter, but maybe it’s not so bad with dean as your hunting partner and your lover.

you finally pull yourself away from the mirror and out of the bathroom, and when you walk into the main area of the motel room where dean was carelessly getting dressed, you just stare at his back for a momentck for a moment— seeing the red lines on his skin from your nails yesterday night that just refused to fade, and you laugh softly to yourself as you remember how the night went, but rather than say anything to dean, you just whistle a cat-call and grin at him when he turns around and all he sees is your entire body naked with a cocky smile on your lips.

but all you do is step closer and closer, reaching past him to let him continue getting dressed, and you grab a shirt from his duffle and a pair of shorts from your own bag. you tug the shirt on over your head and hair, which is still wet, and the shirt fits comfortably on your shoulders and loose around the neck— and only then do you realise it’s dean’s mangled led zeppelin shirt, and you smile to yourself.

soon enough, you’re both dressed and just staring at each other under the awful lighting of the room, but damn if he doesn’t look good. “did y’really have to go ‘n take my nice shirt, baby?” dean huffs, crossing his arms and just staring at you, his eyes raking up and down your body. “are you complaining, dean? and ‘nice’ is an overstatement, this shirt looks like it lost a fight to a werewolf.” you respond, equally snarky but without his drawl, and he looks appalled at you for even saying that, but he just grumbles, huffs and walks over to the bed, setting some of the books down onto the floor and he gives you a look, one you don’t yet know.

“c’mon, i’m tired ‘n i know you are too.” and dean’s right, both of you are exhausted after today, and the warm shower only made you more eager to sleep. so you walk over to him, watching him get up onto the bed, and you follow suit.

slowly, the two of you crawl into the bed, shuffling under the covers and past the books and hearing them drop and clatter to the floor with loud thuds when they hit the wooden panelling. while dean makes himself comfortable with his back pressed against the headboard, you’re tucked next to his side, and his arm slung around your shoulder, and the back of your head near his collarbone. this had to have been the best way to relax.

while dean clicks through the tv channels with one irritated grumble after another, he continues to flick through one after another, and random clips of shows and movies fill the room before dean clicks to another one. “wait, dean—” you go and point at the screen right before he flicks through it. he had gone past an actually okay movie, which is rare when you’re looking around tv channels for anything good to watch. and he skipped past the 1978 halloween movie, which is practically criminal to you, because out of all the old and messy slasher movies from the late ‘70s, this had to be one of the better ones.

“go back a channel,” you spoke quietly— you didn’t need to be loud, not when it’s just you and dean hidden away in a motel room. “man, you’re feelin’ demandin’, huh?” he responds to you in kind and with that signature ‘dean winchester’ snark that had you enamoured the moment you met him, but he does go back a channel for you, and when he sees one of the scenes from halloween, his groan makes you smile. “this movie is awful, hun.” he muttered and you elbow him in the ribs for his comment. “shut up, dean.”

dean chuckles at you while you try and hit him, he just pulls you closer and sets the remote down with a smile on his lips. “as you wish, your majesty.” dean sighs dramatically and he pulls the covers a little higher up on the two of you while you settle in closer, finally being at some state of calm after the messy night. you turn your eyes to the movie to watch the cheesy horror flick until the next one on the channel plays— or until you fall asleep on top of your boyfriend. either works in the end.

@ cryingdew

[ineedpaigebuckets]

like gravity

pt.1

little timeline series (no angst i'm sorry i suck at writing that)

anyways... here you go!!!

................

paige didn’t wanna be here.

her team had already played hours ago, but somehow everyone had convinced her to stay for the last game of the day. something about scouting. “good competition,” they said. “future teammates,” they said.

she didn’t care, not one bit. she was sweaty, starving, and already irritated from her knee acting up. these folding chairs weren’t built for this long of a sit. she was already planning her post-game chick-fil-a order in her head before the game even started.

that was all until number 35 checked in.

paige noticed within seconds, she moved like she was born to ball. smooth handle, tight braids, textbook three. not a hint of nerves on her face—just calm. like she had the whole floor mapped out in her head before she even crossed half court.

paige straightened up in her seat without meaning to.

her eyes followed the mystery girl across the court like it was involuntary—like gravity.

the way she crossed half court was too smooth. the kind of smooth that made paige suddenly hyper-aware of how sweaty her shirt felt clinging to her lower back.

she shifted in her seat. tried to look away. couldn't.

number 35 caught the ball in rhythm and let it fly from deep. swish. no rim. no reaction. just turned to run back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

paige blinked.

jesus christ.

she then leaned over to the teammate next to her—some guard she never really clicked with. “yo,” she said, eyes locked on 35, “what’s her name?”

the girl barely looked away from the court. “uh—that’s azzi fudd. she’s a year younger. dmv area. she’s cold.”

cold was an understatement. azzi was fucking ice. clean footwork, perfect form, eyes like she’d already seen the shot go in. paige couldn’t stop watching. couldn’t even pretend to care about anything else.

the name echoed.

azzi.

the name didn’t just bounce—it echoed. like someone had lobbed it into her head and it hit every wall on the way down.

by the time it reached her chest, paige felt like someone had pressed the pause button on her lungs.

she pressed a hand to her sternum.

was that her heartbeat?

or a warning?

she didn’t get like this. not for boys. and definitely not for girls.

her mouth was dry. her heart was trying to run a mile a minute.

she told herself it was the lighting in the gym. the long day. the hunger.

but even hours later, laying back in her hotel bed, sweat finally dried and her hair up in a messy bun, she couldn’t stop thinking about her.

azzi.

number 35.

dmv.

cold.

she pulled up instagram convincing herself she was just casually checking it. but, of course she searched “azzi fudd.” her profile popped up immediately. paige stared at the little blue follow button for longer than anyone should ever stare at a button.

her thumb hovered.

clicked.

she threw her phone across the room like it burned her.

her face down into the pillows.

a muffled scream.

what was that? what even was that?

she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling like the answers were written in the popcorn texture.

it wasn’t love.

it wasn’t lust.

but it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

it felt like gravity.

the kind that makes your knees shake. that throws your stomach off balance. that pins your whole body to one thought.

azzi.

and paige wasn’t used to not knowing what something was. she was always on point—in basketball, in interviews, with boys. she always had a script, a plan, a finish line.

but not for this. not for her.

she kept telling herself it was admiration. that was safe. that made sense. azzi was insanely talented. of course she respected her. that’s all it was.

she brushed her teeth that night with a little too much force, spit into the sink, and froze.

she stared into the mirror, into her own icy blue eyes.

she whispered, “i have a crush on a girl.”

like the words were made of fire.

like they might catch and burn her down.

she stared at herself in the mirror.

waited for her reflection to flinch.

it didn’t.

paige rubbed the back of her neck, jaw tight.

“no, I don’t.”

but even as she said it, the lie didn’t stick.

because her mind wasn’t saying no.

It was saying azzi.

over and over, like a fucking song stuck on repeat.

paige didn’t sleep much that night.

the next few days blurred by, until she saw it.

the guest list for the next usa basketball camp.

there it was. azzi fudd.

without thinking, she sighed of relief and dropped her phone on her chest like it was fate. like the universe had made a decision before she was ready to.

and maybe it had.

because weeks later, even on the first day of tryouts paige could stop thinking she had to do something.

maybe it was just a coincidence.

but paige wasn’t buying that.

because gravity doesn’t pull for just anyone.

and now, it had a name.

so even if she knew she'd embarrass herself, she tried.

⸻

@paigebueckers1:

yo

quick question

what size are the practice hoodies supposed to be

mine feels like a dress lol

@azzifudd:

umm i think they’re all big

mine goes to like mid thigh lol

@paigebueckers1:

okay phew

just making sure i didn’t get like… the wrong batch

or like the coach’s spare hoodie or something

@azzifudd:

😭😭😭

it's okay to admit you're a skinny white girl

elite genetics

@paigebueckers1:

true true

can’t teach length 😌

@azzifudd:

did u really dm me to ask about jersey sizes or was this just an excuse to talk to me 😏

@paigebueckers1:

…

u caught me

i panicked and that was the best i could come up with

her fingers hovered over the screen.

too much?

not enough?

god, what was she doing?

she barely knew this girl—had spoken like five actual words to her in person.

and now here she was, trying to flirt through hoodie sizing?

smooth, paige. real smooth.

@azzifudd:

solid effort

i’ll give u a 7/10

@paigebueckers1:

ouch

tough crowd

what do i have to do to earn a 10

paige pulled her hoodie up waiting for a response, the second her phone lit up it felt like her stomach flew to the moon.

@azzifudd:

maybe not open with fashion critiques next time 😭

@paigebueckers1:

okay but fr

u were really good today

like REALLY good

not just saying that

@azzifudd:

thank u

that means a lot

especially from u

@paigebueckers1:

from me??

@azzifudd:

yeah u know

the paige bueckers

everyone at camp literally loves u already

@paigebueckers1:

well

i only care if one person does 😳

@azzifudd:

oh??

who 👀

@paigebueckers1:

she’s kinda quiet

real good handles

cute laugh

lowkey bullied me about my hoodie 5 mins ago

@azzifudd:

sounds like she has taste

@paigebueckers1:

she really does

anyway

u free to watch a movie later in my room

or ur room

or literally any room u want

@azzifudd:

…

i’m in

but only if u promise not to judge my snack choices

@paigebueckers1:

deal

i’ll bring pretzels

and my massive hoodie

we can be matching

⸻

paige waited outside azzi’s dorm, butterflies exploding in her stomach.

she held her phone like it was a shield, checking the time even though she knew it was early.

her other hand tugged at the hem of her hoodie—the hoodie, the one she’d used as an excuse. now it felt too weird, too obvious, like it was screaming I LIKE YOU in all caps.

she could hear muffled voices down the hall. laughter. the distant sound of someone bouncing a ball. normal stuff. everything was normal.

except she was not normal. not right now.

she practiced what she was going to say at least six times, mouthing the words like a weirdo.

“hey.”

“what’s up?”

“so rom-coms or horror?”

ugh. awful. all of it.

her breath caught the second the door cracked open.

and there she was.

azzi.

hair pulled into a messy bun that was barely hanging on. a long-sleeve tee slipping off one shoulder. sweats slung low on her hips like she didn’t even think about it—like she didn’t know what it did to paige’s heartbeat.

she looked soft. and sleepy. and stupidly beautiful.

paige just stood there, completely blank.

azzi tilted her head, amused. “you gonna come in or…?”

“yeah,” paige managed, her voice barely working. “yeah. totally.”

azzi stepped aside and paige walked in, trying so hard not to look at her mouth. or her collarbone. or the way the room smelled like lavender and popcorn.

the lights were low, the TV already on idle. a comforter draped across the bed. snacks in a chaotic pile on the floor—cheetos, gummy worms, some trail mix that looked untouched.

paige sat cross-legged on the bed, hoodie bunched around her knees.

azzi flopped down next to her like they’d done this a hundred times. like this wasn’t new. like paige wasn’t internally combusting.

“you brought pretzels,” azzi said, grinning. “respect.”

“i keep my promises,” paige said, then instantly regretted how breathless she sounded.

azzi opened a bag of cheetos and popped one in her mouth, her lips stained red-orange. “so,” she said between bites, “what are we watching?”

paige blinked. “uh. literally anything. your pick.”

“dangerous,” azzi said, kicking her feet up beside paige’s. “i have weird taste.”

“i already figured that out,” paige teased, nudging her leg lightly.

and then—there it was.

azzi looked at her. just looked. not smiling. not joking. like she was seeing right through her.

the moment stretched too long, too quiet.

paige felt it again.

that gravity.

except now they were sharing it. stuck in it together.

and maybe that was the scariest part of all.

[nerdyjournals]

Thank you for your request! Other than the little mishap, this was a fun one to do! You really had me thinking over what each one would get upset over, so hopefully they all fit!

Bang Chan

You could feel his eyes bore through you as Chan stared at you through the glass in the hospital door. He looked frazzled. Hair a mess, the bags under his eyes even worse than before.

He stepped in and you watched all the air escape him as he took in your bandaged wrist.

"And what have we learned?" He said, voice soft but stern.

"To wait until help arrives and to not be a stubborn and impatient baby," you whined as he lifted up your hand. "They said it'll be a week or so before I can lift anything."

"Do you see why I was so insistent that you wait?" You nodded. "Plus I have seven able body movers who were ready to help us later tonight after rehearsals."

You whispered another apology as he took you into his arms and held you tight.

"I'm just glad you're okay and it was nothing major."

Lee Know

You felt yourself wince as you stepped over the threshold of your apartment. You had been hoping to do some spring cleaning before Minho got home so he could just rest.

He had told you to do it in stages so you wouldn't overwork and hurt yourself, but what do you do? You overwork and hurt yourself.

Now you softly flinch as you spot him sitting in an armchair that you swear was never positioned in the middle of the hallway.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" You scratched the back of your head nervously.

"Big time." Minho stood from the chair and walked over. "You know I tell you not to do things because I care about you, right?" You nod. "So why go against me?"

"I wanted you to have a nice place to rest since you've been working so hard, but I just screwed up again." He pulled you into a soft hug, silently trying to find where you were hurt. "You're not even supposed to be home early. Why are you here?"

"You always send me a photo of your food before my lunch break if you're home, and I know for a fact that you have today off."

"You were worried?"

"Don't tell the media. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know."

Okay, the laugh hurt a little bit.

Changbin

The front door opened and closed without Changbin's usual fanfare. Yup, you were in trouble.

His figure came around the corner with a small pharmacy bag and two cups of boba. Okay, so he wasn't that mad....yet.

"Are you okay?" Those words shocked you, having been ready for his beratement or something along those lines.

"I'm okay. A little sore, but okay." He walked over and handed you the drink and bag. "I thought you said you'll be late tonight."

"And I knew that if I didn't come home at my earliest convenience, you'd try something stupid again." You pouted as both of you knew he was right. "I know you want our first place to be perfect, but we have all the time in the world to decorate."

"I work from home, Bin. I need something to do other than watching a computer screen for eight hours."

"Then bring your laptop with you and visit the studio. The guys won't mind. They love you."

"Are you sure I won't be distracting?"

"Never. If anything, you might get annoyed with Jisung's antics."

"I'll take that risk."

Hyunjin

The sound of feet rushing against the tile of your apartment floor brought you back to reality. Your little perch on the balcony slightly helped alleviate your headache.

Hyunjin stood there with a small pharmacy bag and a hand fan.

"Are you okay? Any breakouts or irritation?" He asked, worry filling his voice with each word.

"No. I got out quickly enough." You said, obviously tired. He switched on the hand fan and placed it yours as he set the bag aside. "I'm sorry."

"What were you doing in there anyway?"

"I wanted to clean up a bit. You were really stressed about it."

"I'd rather have a messy studio than have you in the hospital." His gaze drifted from you to the view. "Fresh air help?"

"Not as much as you."

Han

Hearing footsteps approach, you quickly tried to get off the floor but to no avail.

"Aish..." Han's soft curse came from the doorway. "Didn't I tell you to wait for me before trying to unpack?"

The two of you had moved in together recently and your stuff was the last to unpack and also the heaviest.

"Did you finish your book already?" He asked as the two of you began to pick up the fallen novels. He could see your face scrunch at all the bent pages and covers.

"I thought the next one was in the stack of opened boxes. I just wanted to start and not have to bug you for something so small."

"You enjoy reading, yeah?" You slowly nodded. "Then it's not so small. I think it's small when I interrupt your reading for a thirty second clip opinion."

You nodded and placed another book back in the box as he tilted your chin over to look him in the eyes.

"If any of your books got ruined, they're replaceable. You know what's not? You. So ask me next time, okay?"

Felix

It was a little embarrassing to have Felix walk in and see you with your hand submerged in a bowl of water.

"I thought I told you to do an ice shower," he sighed as he placed the bag in the table.

"Why would I need to shower for just my hand?" You slowly lifted out of the water and showed off the damage. "How bad?"

"Well, it's not blistering so that's good." Felix grabbed the kitchen towel to dry pat your hand. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Taking cookies out of the oven." You pointed over to where a batch of cookies still sat on the baking sheet. "I couldn't find the mitts so i used the rubber ones, but the back of my hand touched the metal."

"You're very brave to even keep them on the tray while in pain." He put the cream on and began to wrap it. "You're not allowed to bake without me here anymore, okay? At least, not until this heals."

"Oh no. I have to spend more quality time with my boyfriend. Whatever shall I do?" The sarcasm dripped from your words, making him smile and press against the injury.

"Don't make me regret it."

Seungmin

His steps were frantic as he unlocked the apartment door. Part of him was thankful they had chosen to put security cameras in the house, but the other part cursed him cause it forced him to watch his partner take a nasty fall.

"Y/N?" He didn't raise his voice, knowing that you might have a bad headache.

Your hand peeked out from behind the kitchen island and he rushed over. He found you leaned against the cabinet with an ice pack against the back of your head.

"Hey," he whispered, "1 to 10?" You held up four fingers then four more. "Can you stand?" You signed out the sign for 'no.' "Can I carry you? I got the car running outside." You signed 'yes.' "Talking hurts?" You signed 'yes' again as he carefully lifted you into his arms.

You signed 'sorry' as you made it to the car.

"Why are you apologizing? It was an accident and the guys understand that." He gently placed you in the passenger seat. "They will want an update once you're all clear, okay?"

You signed 'okay.'

I.N

Something was off. You had been avoiding his hand ever since he got home. Normally Jeongin won't mind, but you won't even hold it in front of you.

"You tried to hook up the gundam already, didn't you?" He said as he watched you freeze. "Show me the damage."

You slowly held your hand out, placing it softly in his. Small bandages say on a few knuckles while little red dots covered your palm.

"You tried to solder the wires without knowing how to use the tool, didn't you?" You tried to take your hand back but failed. "I told you to wait for me."

"But I wanted it done so that I could show it to you when you got home. Now it's just sitting there, taunting me."

"What's more fun? Building together or building alone?"

"Together." You sounded so shy.

"Then let's have dinner and we'll finish your project together." You nodded. "And then I yell at my brother to never give you a complicated set again."

"JEONGIN."

[bamfkeeper]

NSFW Alphabet: Sabretooth

a/n: I know this is more a Nightcrawler focused blog, but I will still write a few other X-men characters just because. And since I did a SFW of Sabretooth, I wanted to do a NSFW one too. So here he is, in all his bloody glory. I was a little more vulgar in this one than in the Nightcrawler one, but it fit for this character. As mentioned in previous posts, I try to mix multiple depictions of the character so it's not just based on a single one. So I take inspiration from comics, shows, and films. I might revamp this later. I hope you enjoy <3

Minors DNI. 18+ below the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Sabretooth doesn't exactly get the whole aftercare thing, I mean, he isn't really known for his gentle nature.

When you first get together and fool around, he probably is the type to fuck and leave, or make you leave. He's blunt; he straight up tells you when you're done to get out or he will leave your space. He treats sex almost like an animal, one purpose: to fuck and then he will go on his merry way.

However if you continue your little relationship, then he might slowly start to understand what to do. He isn't typical by any means. You will be left with claw marks and bites, and you will bleed. It's unavoidable, those claws and teeth? Come on.

He wouldn't treat them normally, but he would lick them, his saliva has an antiseptic aspect to it, so he is 'cleaning' your wounds that he left but in his own way. It might feel weird, but just let him do his thing. That's probably the closest he will get to being gentle anyway. If they are deep enough he might tend a little more but honestly he feels like he does enough by cleaning them with his tongue.

Sabretooth is also generally pretty happy with himself after sex. He would be calmed down a bit from his norm, because he satisfied something primal in his nature. This might be one of the only times you can convince him to lay still for a period of time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Sabretooth obviously loves his own claws, his weapon of choice on enemies and on you. He loves making you shiver when he drags them down your body with just enough pressure to make you squirm.

But he also has a big ego, so...he is pretty proud of his size.

He'd like your thighs and ass, kneading them like a cat and pawing at you every chance he got. He grabs your legs and loves how soft you feel, and he likes smacking your backside and watching his hips drill into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Prepare for a lot of it. He is messy and doesn't give a shit about what kind of mess he makes. Inside, outside, doesn't matter to him. He likes to spread it around your face if he shoots his load onto you, or likes watching you open your mouth and show him what mess he made on your tongue.

Can't hate a good creampie either, he loves filling you up. It fulfills that need that burns in his groin every time you have sex. Every instinct screams at him to bury his cock against your cervix and blow his load directly into your womb.

Or he tries to push as far in your ass as he can, listening to you moan as he fills you up, the head of his dick brushing your g-spot perfectly.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

He doesn't really have any secrets, he's fairly open about what he likes. But he does have a strong desire towards scents. He doesn't like super perfumed body wash or soaps, he likes the natural smell of things, so he would prefer non-scented soaps rather than the ones that smell sweet or strong.

He likes smelling your groin a lot, especially in the mornings when the scent is the strongest naturally. You always wake up and feel him tugging your legs open so he can smell you. It does typically lead to other things...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He absolutely knows what he's doing. He's had plenty of partners in the past, so he knows just what to do in the bedroom.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Doggy feels most natural for him. He likes mounting you from behind and he can get a good grip on you when he's pounding into you. He also likes to bite on the back of your neck or your shoulder. Plus he always has a good view before he puts his dick on you.

Sometimes you ride him, gravity helps pull you down on his cock. But you don't get to ride him too often because he doesn't like being on his back for very long. He only has so much self control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He'll make jokes every now and then, but it's all with the dirty talk he gives you. It's all very intense, and he will tease you a lot.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He's a burly, hairy dude. So you can imagine how he looks down there, pretty untamed, not like that really matters. He doesn't see the point to shaving himself, unless you really, really wanted him to, he probably wouldn't ever do it on his own.

He has a hairy happy trail from his belly button that leads down to his pubic hair. His chest is hairy too, and you like to play with it and curl it around your fingers sometimes, which makes him roll his eyes but you do it anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Sabretooth isn't romantic, he's more of a...let's fuck type of guy. His idea of romance is giving you a real, bloody heart torn straight out of an animal or person. And kissing you if he's all messy with blood from a hunt.

If you accept a lot of his habits, he might adapt and try to do something more typically romantic for you in return, or something that you'd see as romantic, whatever that may be. But don't expect him to completely change who he is to be a super romantic guy. And don't ever tell anyone if he does something like that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He probably doesn't masturbate a whole lot, he might when he's feeling real pent up, but why would he masturbate when he has you to take care of all his needs?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Sabretooth is pretty damn kinky, he isn't ashamed about any of his sexual desires and is open with you about them.

He obviously loves predator/prey dynamics, he likes to pretend to hunt you in the woods and when he catches you, he fucks you into the mossy ground. It gets his instincts going and he feels like his cock is on fire when he's hunting you. Plus the sex that comes from 'hunting' you is honestly some of the best you've had. Prey pet names for sure.

Breeding is a huge kink for him. He likes making a mess, but he prefers to bury himself into you and fill you up, regardless if you can get pregnant or not. He will pound multiple loads into you and won't stop until you are squirting it out around his cock.

BDSM is something that's interesting to him, though not every aspect of it. He's a pretty big sadist, so his claws and teeth will definitely mark you up all bloody and you'll be bruised from his hard grip on you thanks to his strength. He'd probably be into impact play, so he'd like to spank you while he's fucking you.

I think he might find bondage fun just because you'd be completely helpless and it can tie into the whole predator/prey play too. Like a little bunny caught in a snare and he stumbles upon you, helpless to the hungry big cat.

I think he probably would have a thing for housewife type of behavior, things that aren't inherently sexual but can turn him on. So cleaning and cooking, bringing him beer or food while he sits back, I don't know I just have a weird feeling he would be into that.

I also think he'd be interested in CNC. It's something that you'd have to talk heavily about, but I think it would be something he would want to try.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He's down to do it anywhere. He doesn't give a shit who hears or sees. But the bedroom is where you two can really let loose. He also likes doing it in the woods, he has a few spots he will take you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Being submissive around him or showing submissive behavior will catch his attention. The primal part of him picks up on all of that, so speaking to him without eye contact, or when he approaches slightly lowering your head are things he instantly picks up on.

I also think if you make yourself vulnerable on purpose around him, he'd definitely like that. If you display your belly or neck, like laying down or seeming careless if he gets close are things he would eye closely, since most of the people around him (human or mutant) tend to be extremely cautious.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Sabretooth wouldn't really be interested in 'making love.' He's a primal mutant. He would want to give in to all of his desires, and he would want whomever he's sleeping with to do the same.

I don't think he would be into someone who challenges his dominance either. He'd take it as an insult and it would trigger his aggression. I don't see him as being a bottom at all, but that's just my opinion. So he wouldn't have any desire to take that position.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He's going to be pretty selfish, and he absolutely prefers receiving. He loves looking down and seeing you try to take him all in your mouth. It turns him on more knowing you're trying your best but still can't fit all of him. He will tease you and talk dirty the entire time.

"Awe, what's the matter...am I too big for you? Can't fit all of me in that pretty mouth? Don't worry...I'll make it fit."

Prepare for a deepthroat and possible face fuck because he gets a little carried away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Rough, fast, unforgiving. He might allow you a moment to adjust when he first penetrates you, but he hardly waits long. There is nothing stopping him from going full on wild mode.

He likes to watch you squirm as he pushes deeper and deeper, watching your little hole stretch around him as you whine. He swears he could cum just from listening to you and watching you struggle to fit him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He can actually cum pretty quick when he knows you're only going to get a few minutes to fuck, so he's down for a quickie, pretty much wherever.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Absolutely. He loves to experiment, especially if he discovers something he hasn't tried before, he'd want to try it out once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

He has enhanced stamina because of his mutation so...he can go for multiple rounds. His period to recover is practically nonexistent, thanks to that mutation.

He can also last a few minutes to much longer. It just depends, but he does prefer multiple rather than dragging out a single long orgasm.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He does not have any toys of his own, other than maybe a few BDSM items like rope or impact things. He doesn't care if his partner has any. In his mind, the toys couldn't compare to him so he could care less.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

A lot. Sabretooth is the king of teasing. He can be somewhat selfish, he will deny your orgasm just so when he finally allows you to cum, it feels like a huge wave washing over you rather than just a little jolt of pleasure. He will bring you up to the brink, but never push you over until he's ready for that to happen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Sabretooth is loud, when he isn't dirty talking you, he is grunting, groaning, snarling. He makes animalistic noises rather than moaning or whining. He knows you like hearing him, so he will lean down and make those noises against your ear, while telling you how good you feel wrapped around his dick.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

He purrs after he orgasms, he takes a moment to catch his breath and he will purr against you, but he catches himself before he does it for too long and acts like he wasn't.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Sabretooth is a BIG dude. So, obviously his dick is gonna be big. He's definitely a shower, but he grows a bit when erect.

Flaccid, his bulge is already big, so it can look intimidating before you even get his pants off. His ego always flares up when he sees how you look at his crotch.

Erect he looks near impossible to put into you, but somehow he fits. He's anywhere between 7.5-9 inches. He is girthy too, which is really what you feel when he fucks you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He has a high sex drive, he can fuck anytime, anywhere. He gets horny from hunting, killing, fighting, all of his instincts flare up and it triggers all of the good feelings in his brain.

Sabretooth would want to fuck a lot, he could do it multiple times a day if possible.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Instantly, he likes to chill out after he has sex. A beer or cigar, then he knocks out. He doesn't bother to shower half the time, so he just likes to kick back and relax.

He might take a shower upon request, but he will complain and grumble about it.

If you like to shower after sex, he would let you go on your own while he has his beer or cigar. He's large, so you and him in the shower together would be awkward and cramped, plus he likes to have a few minutes of space afterwards.

If you are wounded, aka clawed up, he will watch you while you sleep for a bit and then he will fall asleep.

His bed is very soft, it's adorned with furs, pelts, and a thin quilt as the comforter, so you tend to fall asleep after cleaning up.

If you lay on him after, he will run his claws along your back lazily, making you shiver. Knowing those claws to maim and mutilate, but they only graze your skin. It's a strangely gentle gesture that you never reject. He does this until he falls asleep.

Thanks for reading. <3

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover picture cropped from X-Men Origins Sabretooth #1 (2009)

[haechanhues]

Felt Cute, Might Realise I Fucked Up Later

pairing : husband!wonwoo x gender-neutral!reader

genre : established relationship. very lighthearted angst. crack. wonwoo is clumsy (protecc)

warnings : wonwoo is a loser but we love the kind he is. a bit suggestive at one part but otherwise quite clean. not proofread nor edited. gender neutral but i apologise if there's anything referring gender or such.

summary : working man comes home to work on his relationship.

1:00pm / 13:00

On an early finish kind of work day Wonwoo is ecstatic

He comes home and he feels the sun beaming on him in a way he feels like he's heaven's favourite

He's all smiles

He checks all the rooms, calling your name excitedly, already making plans for what the two of you can do now that you're both free

Only

You're not there

There's no note - but why would there be?

But that's not what drags his smile into down to his chin

It's the plant

It's alive

Meaning : not dead

Meaning : too alive

That's when he knows he fucked up

5:00pm / 17:00

When he finishes work, he takes a deep breath

He stops by the flower shop

Picking out all the flowers that look pretty

Wonwoo cursing himself because he doesn't remember your favourite flowers

Wants to kick himself to the curb

(Even though you don't think you even have a favourite)

(Flowers are just pretty, that's all)

He asks for the meanings of the flowers because he's come to discover from a quick search on Google that even flowers have meanings

But it seems the pollen is making his allergies act up

He wasn't even aware there was allergies to be careful of

Has he seriously not gotten you flowers ever?

The florist withholds the comments she wants to make in order to tease him

But she appreciates that a man is making an effort in his relationship

He pays for them with his eyes a little bloodshot and discharge begging to come out

He takes a sniff

Hoping that the bouquet he got for you is the exception to the rule

But

At yet another sneeze he holds the flower bouquet away from his face

Shit

He's practically crying as he opens the door to your shared apartment, getting ahold of himself enough to surprise you with them with a massive smile on his face

The grin he receives is worth it

You take the bouquet, brushing your hand with his and he feels a little in love with you all over again

Twiddling fingers kind of love

Then he ruins it by sneezing

And sneezing

And sneezing until he needs a whole pile of tissues in every room and the poor bouquet in the balcony nobody uses instead of the kitchen where he intended

And when you make the decision to just throw them out, finding that it isn't worth it

You kiss him

But it feels like a mother kissing a sulking child when you do it

7:00pm / 19:00

At dinner he tries not to let the awkwardness get to him

He's really enjoying this meal you made

He also feels like he's falling for you all over again

A roast dinner is like a new haven for him

It's so fucking good

The only thing is he tried to help you

And he's really not good at it

He almost seasoned the vegetables with sugar instead of salt

He almost dropped the lamb when it came out of the oven

He made messy cuts all throughout the meat so badly it's not instagram worthy in the slightest

No angles

Absolutely none

He's unsure why you're keeping quiet

He saw the look of complete distaste and embarrassment on your face as he did all these things within the comforts of your own home

God forbid he do that in public

What if you never say yes to a date outside ever again?

That scratches out every plan he ever made in order for your forgiveness

He's not even sure what he did either

It's just

The plant is still alive

Too alive

11:00pm / 23:00

He's confident

He knows he can make you happy with a couple of his body parts

But ever since the plant

He's starting to doubt himself

Is his dick big?

Is it too small?

Just 'average' size

Have you compared it to your exes before?

Or worse HIS FRIENDS?

What if you're put off but you refuse to say something

"Wonwoo, are you finished in the bathroom?"

Please don't be angry

He comes out of the bathroom with his glasses all fogged up and he's surprised you're not put off

You smile and take off his glasses

And by the end of the night and the early morning

You're not the only one that was focused on

In fact

Your body parts and your words made him very happy too

All he can do is hope you had a good time also

2:00am / 2:00

Wonwoo winces as he comes home

Really

It had been a long day at work and he couldn't escape it

But he really fucked up

Because he sees the cake

Already cut

Unevenly

As if to spite him

'Oh i am so dead'

He thinks

All the presents that most likely surrounded you when so many people were over all out of the wrapping

You on the bed turned over

Oh he's so fucked

'Congratulations!'

After he promised you he'd be home as well

5:00am / 5:00

He really can't sleep

He really can't

He's got half a mind to come to your bedside with his tail tucked in between his legs

Pouting because he keeps fucking up no matter what he does

But he swears an oath not to get grumpy at you tomorrow

You didn't do anything wrong

(Not like HE did)

He just gets grumpy in the mornings when he hasn't slept

And that's exactly what he's afraid of when he sees the time

And sees that he's got exactly 1 hour and 14 minutes worth of good sleep before he has to get ready for work

Fuck

But he's got ideas now and no matter how he looks at it

They all look plausible

7:00am / 7:00

You're awoken to the feeling of Wonwoo pawing at your shoulder

Like a child

You wake up

A total dream

Crust in your eyes

Morning breath

Croaky ass voice

"What?"

Ooh that didn't sound nice either

+ Cranky attitude

"Oh shit, sorry sorry."

Wonwoo has his phone in his hand and cursing to the moon and back

Shit

How could he forget you're not a morning person?

"Go to sleep, I'm sorry, love you."

And you forgive him quickly and quietly

Flopping back onto the bed sheets

10:00am / 10:00

Now that it's a suitable hour

You're awake (he made sure)

You weren't tired (he made sure)

You were in a good mood (he hoped so)

He's at home again

With flowers

In his business attire

He went to work 2 hours ago and told his boss that he needs to make up for being a shit husband

His boss luckily understood

Well

Most of it

Wonwoo was stuttering the whole time

But he trusts Wonwoo - he's a very good employee, good at his job.

Amazing at it in fact.

You just hate how you never see him

"I've realised I fucked up. I'm at work all the time. I'm sorry. If I made you feel like you mattered second to me. You don't. I'm just sorry."

"How have you realised that?"

"The plant."

"The plant?"

"It's alive."

You start giggling

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Honey, I'm bored but not that bored. My friend comes around to water it for me, she's appalled by the state of the plants in here."

....

"Oh."

"But I'm glad you're realising something."

author's note : loser wonwoo my fave genre.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

i’d love to read a continuation of your recent snippet about the suspended hero who is working with the villain, and the villain makes them apologize on their knees! i would love to see a snippet later on in their “partnership” where an even worse enemy makes hero beg, but this time villain doesn’t like the fact that this is happening. maybe along the way they realize that there’s some lines that can’t be crossed, and completely breaking the hero, like this enemy is attempting to, is one of them. thanks!!

pt. 1

"What are you doing?" the villain hissed. They grabbed the hero's arm and pulled them close enough to make the hero's heart drop.

"Could you-" The hero looked at their arm and as soon as the villain's eyes followed, the grip around their arm loosened. The villain didn't let go of them, though.

"They are toying with you. They are using you, you know that, right?"

The hero bit the inside of their cheek.

"They have information."

"They are torturing you psychologically. It's only a matter of when they put their hands on you." The hero stared at their enemy and they barely recognised the person in front of them.

Usually, the villain acted rationally. They acted like an adult. They were organised, clean, neat. But now, they seemed to be acting like their age: restless, emotional, ardent.

Their usually perfect appearance was tainted by messy hair, dark circles under their eyes. A hoodie had replaced the fancy clothes.

This was a temporary alignment. Nothing personal.

"You also made me beg on my knees, so what's the difference?" the hero asked. They averted their gaze and concentrated on calming their heart down. Once they had left the premise of the supervillain, their hands had started to shake. They buried their fists in their pockets.

"What's the difference? What's the difference?" The villain grabbed them by the collar. "I didn't humiliate you in front of other people, I didn't make you cry. Your heart was going crazy the entire time, you were scared shitless in there."

"I'm fine," the hero spat. They put their hands around the villain's wrists. "I told you I am doing whatever it takes to solve this murder. So what's a little humiliation along the way? What's a little humiliation compared to what my colleague, my friend, went through?"

That shut the villain up.

They let go of the hero, took a few steps back and simply stared.

"I am grateful for your help and I will pay you back one day," the hero said. "But please don't judge me for my actions. The agency suspended me. I have no one in my corner at the moment."

The villain snorted. "You have me in your corner, you absolute fool."

Now, it was the hero's turn to be speechless.

They had never expected the villain to say something like that. They had never dared to think the villain might actually do this of their own volition and not only because the hero was going to repay them. Or because toying with a desperate hero was fun.

It was strange to see the villain this worked up. Usually, they'd be the first one to laugh when the hero stumbled over their own feet.

The silence stretched between them. Long. Uncomfortable.

Neither looked at the other.

The hero stared at their shaking hands and debated their next step.

"You cannot possibly be alright with them using you like that," the villain said. Their voice was shaking. "They know they have power over you. What if they are bluffing? What if they don't have any information at all? I know you are desperate. I know you want answers. But not at this cost."

"You know I don't-"

"Not at this cost." The hero looked at them again and this time, the villain looked unbelievably soft. "Please."

The hero mumbled the villain's name, eager to find a resolving answer, but within seconds, the villain was in front of them again, taking both their hands.

"Please," they said, begged. Their eyes were fixed on the hero's. "We will find another solution, I promise. We will find another way, just..."

Their eyes dropped to the hero's lips. It was within the split of a second. Barely noticable.

But the hero had seen it.

"Come to me when you need anything," the villain said. "Please, just come to me next time."

The hero nodded and although they were incredibly relieved that they didn't have to return to the supervillain's estate, they couldn't help but feel that the villain's and their role had exchanged completely.

Not that that was necessarily a bad thing.

[lolokouhm]

| Suguru doesn't eat, but tonight he's hungry | smutty smutty smut | tattooed Geto | depressed Geto | kinda poetic | Geto is young and beautiful and not crazy |

„You haven’t eaten, have you?”

No, Suguru hasn’t eaten.

It’s not like you’re surprised. He’s lost weight - nah, he’s been losing weight steadily for the past few weeks. People say that it’s hard to notice when you see someone regularly, but it’s not hard at all - especially in his case. You’re not sure what’s changed exactly. Suguru still looks relatively healthy, not underweight, but the dark circles under his eyes speak volumes.

You sigh and walk into his apartment. It’s surprisingly neat, to the point it’s a bit scary - so clean it gives an impression as if no living person could function there. And maybe that’s exactly how it is. Maybe that tall, handsome guy in black sweats that greets you is not a person anymore, but a ghost. It’s a question you constantly ask yourself in your head, but never dare to answer. Your heart would break. 

„I wasn’t hungry.” A smile appears on his pale face and you sigh again. 

You’ve been friends with Suguru since high school, but after your last year you went your separate ways, just to meet again years later - just a few months ago. He didn’t change much, at least not visually - except for his arms. He might have gone a little bit crazy on ink there, and that’s exactly what got the two of you talking again. Tattoos. You’ve never expected Suguru Geto, that sophisticated, awfully smart Geto would cover both of his arms in the most insane pieces of art you’ve ever seen. You’ve had your own share of ink under your skin, but your collection was quite messy and not that cohesive. You liked trying new styles, creating your own map of memories from different places and different artists, while his tattoos were definitely an artwork made by one man. You had a million questions, he was happy to answer - that’s how you ended up in his apartment for the first time. Soon you realised you had a million subjects to go through - politics, art, even God. It was easy, talking with him. It was fun.

And then it began - the movie nights, when the two of you were going through different eras of cinema alphabetically, also bringing snacks that would start on the same letter as the movie you were watching. A stupid idea that you shamelessly stole from „The Barbie Diaries” - the first movie you’ve watched together and the first one that left Suguru completely traumatised. 

„Luckily for you, today we’re watching The Notebook, so we’ll be having noodles. What kind of noodles do you want, sir?”, you ask, handing him an invisible microphone.

Suguru chuckles. 

„Spicy.” 

A few clicks later the food is already on its way and the two of you get comfortable on his huge couch. The projector starts warming up and you look around - it’s completely dark inside and if it weren’t for the fact you know Suguru well, you’d think he made the apartament that way so the two of you could watch the movie comfortably. Your gaze goes back to him - his body hunching over the laptop, fighting with Netflix again. 

The projector turns on and the movie starts, as the two of you hide yourselves under the blankets. Unfortunately, you can’t focus. You’re worried.

You’ve had some conversations about his depressive episodes before, so technically you know what he’s going trough, but honestly - you don’t. He doesn’t really talk about it, but if you could get into his head you’d understand how much he values your bare presence next to him. If you could get into his head, you’d know way more, but luckily for Suguru, you can’t. He wouldn’t like that. 

In normal circumstances, at least. Because tonight, he is hungry, he is frustrated, and he needs warmth. 

And you are anything but cold. 

So when he catches your eyes on him, he bets. If you turn away, he’ll let you go. If you give in, he’ll make you stay. 

Three seconds. That’s how much time it takes for Suguru to get closer to you and kiss you. 

It’s short, soft and sensual, but it makes his head go fuzzy, and when he pulls back he just hopes you won’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t. 

You’re not running.

You’re sitting, legs crossed, just as you were seconds before. Your face is completely red now as Suguru’s eyes scan you carefully, desperate to see the future. Will you go? Will you slap him? 

„Why did you do that?” Your own voice doesn’t even sound like your voice. „The Notebook” in the background is now completely forgotten, the flickering lights on the screen keep on changing and throwing different shades on Suguru’s pale face. You didn’t expect that. Not that you didn’t want to or think about it, it’s just…

„I’m hungry” he whispers, and the way his voice sounds gets shivers sprinting down your spine. „And the food’s not here yet.” 

„Yeah. It’s not.” He still keeps his hands on your cheeks, right thumb gently brushing your skin, touch light as a feather. 

„What are we going to do about it?”, he murmurs, words are barely audible. He’s waiting. There’s another unspoken question hanging between the two of you, and you’re the one who needs to answer.

And that’s exactly what you do. 

Both of your hands are suddenly gripping onto his hoodie as you lean into him, lips crashing yet again, just with much bigger force this time. Suguru’s breath shakes as he finally comprehends that he won the bet and a smile crawls onto his face. You’re kissing him. His ray of sunshine. Well, maybe not his yet, but when he’s done with you, that’s exactly how you will be.

And that’s exactly what he does. 

His lips travel down your jaw, stop for a second under your ear and then go straight to your neck as your hands let go of his hoodie and find their way to his hair, gripping desperately on the black strands loosely caught in a bun. He groans at the feeling as he bites the skin of your exposed collarbone, his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse, eager to feel more and more of you. Suguru looks up and tries his best not to moan at the sight of your face, your lipstick completely devoured. 

„Can I?”, a hoarse whisper leaves his throat, but it’s not even a question. He’s begging you. 

And you let him. 

He takes his own hoodie of as you take off yours - and you can see them again. The artwork on his arms. You lean your body against the pillows on the right side of the couch and Suguru gulps. He’s been imagining that for a while now, but the reality, for the first time in fucking forever, was so, so much better. His lips go back to sucking and licking your skin and by the moment he reaches your breasts you whine. His hot tongue plays with your nipples, making you impossibly wet, and the bare sight of him shirtless in those awfully beautiful sweats is not helping at all. A part of you is relieved - his muscles are still there, tensing a bit with every movement. And when he pulls away for a moment, you notice it.

„You’ve got a new one.” A koi fish, on his ribs, drawn as usual in a traditional style, this time with a bit of colour. Red. Your favourite. Your hand is shaking, but you can’t help yourself. You trace the shape of the tattoo, his hot skin under your fingertips feeling like fire. You are in awe - even more when you look at him again, breathing heavily. A god. He looks like a god. 

And then he proceeds to make you feel like you’re nowhere but in heaven.

He’s not hungry anymore - by the time you’re completely naked he’s starving. His name escapes your lips when his grip on your thighs gets tighter, and then it hits you - his tongue finally making contact with the place you needed him in so desperately. Your hands find his hair again, pulling it relentlessly when he inserts two slender fingers inside of you, at the same time licking your clit. Suguru’s ravenous. You could be his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, his dessert - everything. He could eat you out all the time, no breaks, no thoughts, no objections. He tries to control his own hips that have been grinding into the couch for a while now, but the feeling of you on his tongue isn’t making it any easier. 

„Suguru…” your voice comes back to you, a familiar feeling slowly building up inside of your stomach. „I’m so close.” 

You really are, and your clouded mind is making the sensation almost unbearable. Suguru groans yet again, happier then ever, and then you hear it.

„Come for me, baby.”

So soft. So simple. Not a demand, by no means. An invitation - to fall apart on his tongue. 

You take it.

His name leaves your lips as your orgasm blinds you, back arching as you pull his hair so hard he groans. Suguru doesn’t stop right away - he makes you ride it out, drinking you like holy water. You shake and quiver and he thinks that maybe that’s exactly what it is. Holy water on his tongue. 

And so you lay, completely fucked out under his perfect body, and when he goes up to look at you he’s almost sure he’s going to come right there, in his pants. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect.

„Fuck.” It falls from his lips as he’s taking these damn pants off and you gasp. „I just… Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face, your arousal glistening all over him. It’s like he shines. You might be going insane. Fucking Geto Suguru, hovering over you, his cock impossibly hard, looking for words. „Can I…”

Before he finishes, you lean into him and bring him down, pulling his neck closer to you and diving into the kiss. He pants and you get scared - it’s not reality. It can’t be. Suguru leaning into your touch, Suguru groaning into your ear, Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. His name carved all over your body, all over your mind. 

He goes in slowly, trying his best not to come right away, but he’s more than determined to make you cum again, this time on his cock. He starts thrusting, diving as deep as possible and then reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It feels so good. Too good to be true. He doesn’t fuck you - it’s way more than that. His lips move up and down your neck, leaving desperate kisses between pants and grunts. Suguru is in pain and you’re the cure. Suguru is the moon and you’re the sun. Suguru is the believer.

And you’re the god.

You asked him about it one night. 

„Do you believe in God, Suguru?”

He said he didn’t, but he changed his mind. He does.

His god is right there, under his fingers.

You come again, moaning right into his lips when you kiss, and the way you clench around him sends him to the edge. He hides his head into the crook of your neck and twitches inside of you, warm cum covering your insides as he pants, hips desperately bucking into you. You’re barely conscious, but you wrap your arms around him and hold him as he’s trying to catch his breath. His heartbeat runs through you and it kinda feels like you’re one person. Maybe that’s exactly what you have become. 

One. 

„Are you still hungry?” 

You can feel him laughing into your skin. Suguru moves his head up and readjusts it, so he can see the bite marks on your neck a little better. Like a tattoo. Another one to your collection.

„Starving.”

masterlist ❤️

[blueysobssesions]

Summary: You, worried about Caelus well-being due to his constant errands, you convinced him to take a break. You both spend a relaxing day together, enjoying pizza and eventually...

Note: SMUT!! MDNI! fem!Reader, penetrative sex, aggressive and rough sex (?), f! receiving, 1.5k words

Caelus hasn't got any sleep for the past week, due to him taking everyone's errands… Caelus isn't the type of person who can't say no and he often puts others' needs before his own. But, your worried for his well-being… He barely even eats or takes breaks throughout the day, and it's starting to take a toll on his health.

One time, he passed out when the both of you were in the middle of dealing with some Fragmentum, and it scared you. You couldn't help but think about how you could help him relax and unwind. You decide to approach him with an idea while he's rummaging through the trash.

"Hey Caelus," you call out as you get closer. "Why don't you take a break from all that and come with me to my apartment to get some rest?" You suggest with a friendly smile.

"Besides, YOU need to take a shower!" you chuckled, placing your hands on your hips.

"Well, I'll admit that I do look... a bit messy right now," Caelus agreed with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "But you know I just can't resist checking out trash cans. I might find something interesting in there." He shrugged playfully.

His eyes met yours once again, and the gratitude behind them made you feel warm inside. "You know what? I could actually use a good night's sleep. And maybe that shower you mentioned." He gave you a grateful smile. "Lead the way, Love."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Hurry up"

You both we're know inside your cozy apartment, and you lead him straight to the bathroom. "Here you go, Caelus, let's get you cleaned up." Before closing the door, you gave him a thumbs up. "Don't take too long, alright? I'll be at my room, finding some spare clothes for you"

With that, you left him alone to freshen up, leaving the sound of water filling the tub shortly after. As you waited in the living room after finding some spare clothes, you couldn't help but think about how relieved you were to have convinced Caelus to take a break. He's always so dedicated to helping others, sometimes to a fault, and you wanted nothing more than to make sure he took care of himself.

After a while, the bathroom door creaked open, revealing a now clean Caelus wrapped in a towel on his waist. His hair was still wet, sticking to his forehead slightly, highlighting the sharp angles of his face features. "Ah, refreshing," he remarked, chuckling softly.

You stared at him, feeling a little lightheaded. Caelus's toned physique was on full display, and you couldn't help but appreciate the sight.

He was so vulnerable and open in this moment, a stark contrast to his usual unflappable demeanor. Snapping out of your daze, you handed him the clean clothes you found. "Here you go. Change into these and then we can grab something to eat, alright?"

Caelus accepted the clothes with a grateful nod, disappearing into your bedroom to dress. A few moments later, Caelus emerged, clad in a comfortable pair of pajamas, looking a lot more relaxed and at ease than you'd seen him in a while. "Thanks, Love" He gave you a warm smile, and you couldn't help but blush under the sincere thanks in his gaze.

"M-mhm" you stammered, you then heard footsteps walkng towards the kitchen, indicating that he was ready to go grab a bite to eat. He walked towards the couch, and sat besides you with a two sliced pizza plates on his hand.

"Here, pizza," he offered, placing the plates on the coffee table between the two of you. You took one of the plates with a smile, appreciating the simple gesture. As you sat down next to Caelus, you started to tear off a slice of pizza, taking a bite as you watched some TV. The mood in the room was comfortable, putting your head on his shoulders. Caelus smiled faintly, wrapping his arm gently around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You felt safe and cared for in his embrace. "You know, Caelus..." you began, your voice a bit muffled as your face was pressed against his chest, "I'm glad you agreed to come here today. I'm really worried about you. Sometimes, you forget that you need to take care of yourself, too." Caelus didn't respond right away, but you could feel his body tense up ever so slightly. After a moment, he spoke softly. "I know. It's just... It's hard for me to turn a blind eye to people in trouble. It's like... it pains me to see them suffer, especially when I know I can do something about it."

He paused, letting out a deep breath. "But I promise, I'll try to remember to take better care of myself. It's only fair, considering how much you and the others worry about me." You nodded, turning your head to look up at him, your lips curving into a gentle smile. "That's great" placing a kiss on his cheek. And then his lips, you couldn't help but lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the taste of pizza on his mouth.

Your arms snaked around his neck, deepening the kiss. The warmth of his body against yours made the intimate moment even more comforting. Caelus responded eagerly, his hand sliding into your hair. He pulled you closer, urging you to continue. The kiss grew in intensity, your tongues dancing together.

As you broke the passionate kiss, you could feel your heart racing. "We should probably move to the bedroom," Caelus whispered, his breath hot against your lips. The desire in his voice sent shivers down your spine, making you nod eagerly. Standing up, you led him to your bedroom, eager to explore the feelings that had been brewing between the two of you.

Once in the bedroom, you locked the door and turned to face Caelus, pulling his pajama top over his head, revealing his toned, muscular body. You ran your fingers along his chest, down to his abdomen, your touch sending shivers through him.

"Undress me…" Caelus whispered, his voice husky with desire. You complied, slowly removing each piece of clothing. You started with his pajama pants, sliding them down his legs and gently kicking them aside. Next, you untied your own top, letting it fall off your shoulders to reveal your lacy black bra. Your hands moved to your shorts, unbuttoning them before sliding them down, revealing matching lace panties. Caelus's eyes lingered on your body hungrily, his hands drifting to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. You moaned softly, arching your back as he gently squeezed your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. His skilled fingers explored every inch of your body, trailing a path down to your panties.

You moaned softly, arching your back as he gently squeezed your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. His skilled fingers explored every inch of your body, trailing a path down to your panties. Slowly, he peeled them off your body, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. "You're so beautiful, baby" he whispered, leaning down to kiss your stomach, working his way up to your breasts. You ran your fingers through his hair as he took one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging gently.

The sensation made you whimper, your body aching for more. His touch sent shivers down your spine, making you crave his every move. With each kiss and caress, you felt yourself surrendering completely to him.

You both were on the bed, creaking sounds were heard.

Caelus's eyes were dark and intense as he positioned himself between your thighs, the thick head of his erection teasing the entrance to your tight, wet core.

Your heart raced, anticipation pooling between your legs. Your breath hitched when he roughly grabbed your hips, positioning you just right. "Look at you, all slick and ready for me," he growled, sliding into you in one smooth motion. You gasped, arching your back as his thickness filled you completely. The pleasure was immediate, and Caelus smiled wickedly as he started to move, his thrusts hard and unrelenting. "Fuck, you're tight," he snarled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered, writhing beneath him as he pounded into you. The room was filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh and your desperate moans. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he slammed into you, setting a brutal pace. "God, f-fuck you feel so good," he gritted out, his eyelids half-closed with lust. Your nails scraped across his back, urging him on as your body adjusted to the roughness of his lovemaking. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, dominating you with every thrust. The intensity built, and you could feel your climax approaching. Caelus sensed it too, and he increased the pace of his assault, driving you both higher.

"Cum for me, love," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. Your body shuddered, the orgasm washing over you in waves. You screamed his name, your pussy contracting around his cock in response. Caelus groaned, his own release imminent. His thrusts became jerky, his hips bucking hard as he filled you with his hot seed. The two of you remained joined, your breaths ragged as you rode out the aftershocks. Eventually, Caelus collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling rapidly." That... was something else," you managed to say, still reeling from the intensity of the experience. Caelus chuckled, a satisfied grin on his face. "Thought it might be"

"Don't tell me you're not used to it" You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Not quite like that, no." Caelus kissed your shoulder softly. "Well, consider me a man of many talents." Lying there, the two of you basked in the aftermath of your passion. The night air filtered in through the window, a cool breeze that seemed to whisper promises of sweet dreams. Eventually, Caelus's eyes drifted shut, his breathing becoming slow and even.

MASTERLIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[emmylksblog]

LOVE RECIPE // HÉCTOR FORT

summary: you and héctor make a big mess trying to bake something edible. the result is obviously awful and you have no other option than stealing his precious shirt. based on this request.

genre: blurb, fluff

warnings: none

a/n: oh to be his gf and steal his oversized shirts... 😔

The plan had been simple: a quiet afternoon at Héctor’s apartment, trying out a new dessert recipe. But, as always, with you and Héctor, things didn’t go as planned.

The kitchen was a complete disaster—flour dusted across the counter, bits of melted chocolate smeared on the tiles, and your shirt was splattered with sticky batter.

Héctor wasn’t much better off, with dough stuck in his hair and a couple of your handprints stamped across his shirt from when you’d “playfully attacked” him.

“Does this count as baking, or just demolishing the kitchen?” you joked, leaning against the counter as you tried—unsuccessfully—to clean off your shirt.

“Definitely the second one,” Héctor replied with a teasing grin, running a hand through his hair only to find the dough still clinging to it.

After a few more minutes of laughter, you both decided it was time to throw your clothes in the wash before the mess dried. A while later, you found yourself rummaging through Héctor’s small wardrobe while he was in the living room, searching for the cake mold you’d both misplaced.

Your shirts were still spinning in the washer, and wearing your sticky, stained one again wasn’t an option. Without much thought, you grabbed one of Héctor’s shirts—a simple black one that had been folded neatly on a chair. It was soft, oversized, and the best part is that it smelled like him.

When you walked back into the kitchen, Héctor was crouched on the floor, picking something up. He glanced up as you entered, and froze for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Is that… my shirt?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.

“And what if it is?” you replied with a mischievous smile, spinning slightly to show off the fit. “My clothes are still in the wash, and I wasn’t about to stay in that sticky vanilla mess.”

Héctor chuckled, leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms. “You look good in it. Too good, actually. Now I’m worried you’ll keep stealing my clothes.”

“Worried?” you teased, stepping closer to him. “I think you secretly love it.”

He let out a soft laugh, his expression shifting from teasing to something gentler as his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you a little closer. “You’re not wrong. It might even suit you better than it suits me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, smiling despite the flutter in your chest. “Then I guess I’m keeping it.”

“Fine,” Héctor murmured, leaning in just enough to brush his nose against yours. The world around you seemed to blur as his lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, his fingers lightly tracing your waist.

Just as you were catching your breath, Héctor smirked and grabbed a bit of melted chocolate that was still in the bowl nearby. Before you could react, he swiped his finger across it and dabbed it on your cheek.

“Perfect,” he said with a mischievous grin, admiring his work.

“Héctor!” you gasped, swatting at him as he laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“You started it baby!” he teased, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Even as you rolled your eyes again, you couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth between you two filling the messy kitchen with something sweeter than anything you could’ve baked.

[strwbrryeyes]

nini !! :3 how about… bokuto havin’ a big ol’ crush on a shy girl ?? how do they get together ?? maybe his crush on her gets exposed… and he’s super surprised she likes him back ?? let your mind run free with it !! <333

𖦹°｡⋆ Hiding feelings (and behind volleyball carts) (bokuto x reader)

⟡ cw: shy reader, she/her pronouns, fluff, comfort? but no hurt, fainting, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything.

⟡ a/n: trying to come out of my writer's block so I'm going to start with requests before continuing the last legs of my best friend series and then officially starting my suna long fic. also im trying to start putting pronouns in cw's so bear with me if i ever forget to add that warning. also ty lene for requesting this! i'll do your other one at a later time :3 sorry if it's messy im rusty </3

“You’re staring at her again, Bo” konoha snaps bokuto out of the trance he’s in.

“I can’t help it! She’s so pretty” Bokuto responds in a lovesick tone as he turns back around to look at you with hearts practically forming in his pupils.

“It’s hopeless, he’s never going to man up enough to ask her out properly.” Komi sighs causing the rest of the team to nod in defeat.

“He’s going to have to eventually, he’s liked her since their first year and now they’re entering the end of their last year in high school.” Akaashi states as he watches his best friend fall more in love with you as you laugh with Yukie and Kaori.

Bokuto Koutaro has had the fattest crush on you since first year of high school. You were sat next to him so naturally he really tried to get to know you but you never really opened up to him. You didn’t have many friends (you still don’t), you only had two friends, luckily for Bokuto, those friends were Fukurodani’s very own manageers, Yukie and Kaori. There were countless times where Bokuto would beg the two girls to convince you to come watch during practice so he could show off and seem cool to you. Sometimes you would come to practice just so you could spend more time with your two best friends, and while you were impressed by Bokuto, all you could manage to give him was a small smile and a single thumbs up. Even though it wasn’t much, it still made Bokuto melt on the spot. Everything about you was wonderful to him, the epitome of beauty, sweetness, and kindness, all he was missing was your affection and love.

After a few more minutes, the coach calls for the break the team was on to be over and everyone goes back to their places while you remain on the bleachers. As you wave to your friends, you see Bokuto looking at you with a soft smile, much different from his usual big, large, and bright grin that he wears everywhere. You don’t know what it is about it, but this makes you blush. Maybe you sense that it’s different, maybe it’s wishful thinking that that smile is only meant for you, after all you did have a crush on him. You’ve had a crush on him as long as he’s had a crush on you but you could never say anything to him for the fear you might get rejected. After all, he was the most extroverted person in school - maybe the world - and you were just…there…exisitng with only two close friends. You could never be Bokuto’s type. You’ve been saying this for three years to yourself all while you don’t know the truth about how he feels.

Practice is finally over after about an hour and you go down to the main floor to get ready to leave with Yukie and Kaori while the boys go to the lockeroom to change. The three of you talk for a bit before the coach calls them to help with cleaning the gym leaving you alone again. You take this time to walk around the gym as you never really looked around before. You see all these posters and banners with the team’s motto “one ball, heart, and soul”. you smile at the saying as you think about how this is seen in all of the players. All of the boys on the volleyball team shows their love and passion for the game but of course, one player stood out from all the rest, Bokuto. You find yourself thinking about Bokuto and all the ways he shows his love for the sport. Every move he makes, every serve he does, every cheer he shouts, and every grin he has plastered on his face when he scores. You loved that grin. 

You’re deep in thought when you hear the gym door open and hear voices the belong to the boys on the volleyball team.  Scared of being seen, you hide behind the volleyball cart. It’s not like you were doing anything wrong, you just really hated social situations and you don’t know where Yukie and Kaori disappeared off to even though they were just in the gym moments ago. You feel a bit of nervousness start to kick in as you hear their voices get closer and that’s when you hear your name causing you to snap out of your nerves and to listen in.

“Did you see the way [name] smiled when I did that serve today?” The voice belonging to Bokuto asked excitedly followed by a chorus of groans by the other team members.

“Yes Bokuto,” Akaashi sighs as he waves goodbye to the rest of the team who are speedwalking out of the gym to avoid Bokuto’s gushing “and before you ask, yes I saw how she looked at you when you nearly knocked Washio’s hand off with your spike.”

“She’s the best isn’t she?” Bokuto asks as he sits down on a bench in the gym. “I just wish I could tell her that but I’m scared she’ll run away.”  He says calmly to Akaashi who raises a brow.

“Why would she run away?” Akaashi questions Bokuto’s reasoning to why he can’t tell you how he feels.

“Well you know how quiet and shy she is,” Bokuto starts off “and you know how loud I am. What if [name] doesn’t like that? I don’t want her to hate me just because we have clashing personalities.” He explains to his best friend in a slightly defeated tone making you furrow your eyebrows as you slowly peek over the volleyball cart to get a quick look at the ace and setter.

Akaashi chuckles a bit before responding to Bokuto “First off, I’m surprised you’re self aware at how loud you are,” he says earning a ‘watch it’ from Bokuto, “Secondly, I really think you should tell her how you feel. The end of the school year is coming up and who is to say you’ll ever see her again? You really want to leave high school without even trying?” Akaashi asks Bokuto making him think for a while before he shakes his head.

“I just can’t do it, Akaashi.” Bokuto slumps while sitting while Akaashi pats his back. Right now, in Bokuto’s mind, he thinks he’d be better off keeping his feelings to himself instead of the possibility of rejection. Meanwhile, your mind is going a million miles per second as you just found out that the guy you’ve had the biggest crush on for years feels the same way. what do you do now? Come out of hiding and tell him how you feel? No, that’s too bold and he might think you’re weird for eavesdropping like this. What about just waiting for him to confess? Nope, he made it sounds like he wasn’t going to tell you for sure.

After what feels like forever with your thoughts, you hear the door next to the volleyball cart open to see Yukie and Kaori. Your eyes quickly widen and hurry to shush them before they say anything but it fails as they walk towards you.

“Sorry we took so long [name], coach had us do some pape- what are you doing behind there?” Yukie asks as she moves the cart out of the way earning her a glare from you. Meanwhile, a few feet away, Akaashi and Bokuto are staring at you with their jaws practically on the floor.

“What’s up with you two?” Kaori asks as she walks over to them, waving her hand in fron of their eyes while they’re still in complete shock. Akaashi is the first to snap out of it, he then shakes Bokuto who somewhat comes to his senses. 

Turning to look down at you still on the floor, Akaashi clears his throat “[name], I thought you left already.” Akaashi tries to say cooly as he glances to Bokuto quickly who is still in shock.

“Haa…nope! Still here!” you laugh nervously as you’re pulled up from the ground by Kaori and Yukie who give each other confused looks.

“So out of curiosity, no other reason…” Akaashi starts off coyly as he sways a bit “how much of our conversation did you hear…” he asks in a quiet nervous tone.

“Not much!” you start to answer with a lie but couldn’t help yourself “okay that was a lie I heard everything!” you blurt out and Akaashi widens his eyes and quickly turns back to Bokuto who is still on the bench. He quickly rushes to catch Bokuto who is about to fall off of the bench as he looks like his soul has left his body completely. Bokuto has passed out.

While everyone sits around Bokuto’s passed out body, you and Akaashi explain everything to Kaori and Yukie who end up laughing their heads off.

“[name]! That’s hilarious! I’m so glad we left you here!” Kaori cackles out before calming down and standing up. “Now you have to confess to him.” She says seriously as Yukie stands up as well. You facepalm and turn to look at Akaashi who has a confused look on his face.

“You like Bokuto back, [name]?” He asks and you nod making him look back to the two managers “and the both of you knew and didn’t say anything? Even though you knew they both liked each other back?” he questions them and they laugh nervously.

“Well would you look at the time! We gotta go!” Yukie shouts as her and Kaori run out of the gym leaving you behind with both of the boys.

Sighing, Akaashi looks at you softly. “[name], I know we aren’t close by any means but Bokuto is my best friend and I think it would really benefit the both of you if you both talked about your feelings. Can you do that?” Akaashi explains and asks you. You think for a bit before sighing and nodding.

“I can do that. Thank you, Akaashi.” you thank the setter while smiling.

“Well then, I’ll leave you two to it,” Akaashi stands up and looks at Bokuto’s body still splayed out on the ground “he’ll wake up in a bit don’t worry.” He assures you before walking out of the gym before you could even protest to being alone with Bokuto. Akaashi was right though, it only took one minute after he left for Bokuto to start waking up.

“Hey Bokuto.” you smile sweetly at Bokuto as his eyes flutter open. He stares up at you in confusion for a bit before he remembers what happens and quickly sits up.

“[name]! Hi! Listen I’m so sorry I understand if you hate me now but please don’t run awa-” Bokuto starts rambling out an apology before you start giggling “What’s funny? Are you not mad? Are you making fun of me?” more panic overtakes Bokuto but you get ahold of his hands and look at him.

“Bo,” you catch his attention using a nickname which also makes him blush “don’t worry about it. I’m not mad and i’m not making fun of you.” you let out a sigh and close your eyes before continuing “Honestly, I have a crush on you too, I have since first year. I never told you because I was worried you would think I’m too quiet or too boring…basically your reason but the opposite,” you let a nervous giggle out before opening your eyes up again “I know you didn’t want me to find out like this so I I understand if you don’t want to talk about this right now.” You finish your own rambling and look up at Bokuto who looks like he’s frozen. “Bokuto?” you say his name and it snaps him out of his daze and a few seconds later, Bokuto’s face is centimeters away from your face making you blush like crazy and have your heart beating loud and fast.

“Do you really like me? You’re not just saying that?” Bokuto asks seriously as his golden eyes stare into your own eyes and you nod which makes him let go of your hands and jump up to cheer. After a few more louds noises of excitement and happiness, Bokuto holds his hand out in front of you to pull you up to which you offer. After being pulled up to your feet, Bokuto brings you in for a tight hug, catching you off guard but you end up hugging him back. “I’m so happy to hear that, [name].” He mumbles into your hair quietly making you giggle.

You pull back a bit to smile up at him “I’m really happy too, Bo.” you use his nickname again causing him to audibly swoon.

“I love hearing you say that,” he sighs lovingly as he closes his eyes before looking back at you “and I love you..” he whispers but then quickly panics as your eyes widen in response “I’m so sorry is it too soon? Oh my god I haven’t even asked you to be my girlfriend yet, I’m an idiot.” Bokuto rambles once again before you cut him off by kissing him on the cheek.

“Stop apologizing and worrying,” you chuckle as you look at his flushed, red face “I love you too…I don’t care if it’s too soon, I know I do.” you smile sweetly at him making him calm down

“Well then, [name], will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” Bokuto asks you quietly, smiling the same soft smile from earlier. The one you wanted to believe was made for you.

“Of course, Bokuto, I would love to be your girlfriend!” You answer him with joy and his smile grows bigger and...yeah, that smile was made for you and only you. Bokuto then picks you up and spins you around before giving you a soft kiss on the lips to which you kiss him back. 

After a few seconds you both pull away and look at each other with so much love before you’re both surprised to hear cheering coming from outside the the gym. Turning to look out the window, you see Kaori, Yukie, and Akaashi staring inside from the other side of the window. The sight make the both of you smile widely before Bokuto sets you on the ground again to grab his things.

“Shall we go?” Bokuto takes your hand in his and gestures towards your friends and the door.

“Yes we shall.” You respond after kissing his cheek. 

The both of you then walk out of the gym to join your three friends outside to walk home, but not before Bokuto yells out “[name] is my girlfriend!” in the loudest voice he could possibly let out causing you to bury your face in his side while the others laugh at him. 

This relationship is going to be fun.