#i think it's a questionable but cute name :0

[buckyalpine]

Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.

Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.

A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.

“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.

As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.

"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.

"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-

You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.

"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.

"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-

"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-

"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"

You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.

"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.

"You did it, you did amazing mama"

-

After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.

Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.

Eventually he can't help himself.

He has to ask you out.

And he does.

3 years and a wedding later

You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.

"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.

"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.

"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.

"Sleep tight little man"

"Night, daddy"

-

Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.

"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.

"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.

"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.

You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x mom reader #bucky x single mom #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #beefy bucky fluff #beefy bucky barnes #beefy bucky x reader #beefy bucky #beefy bucky x f reader #paramedic bucky #paramedic bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #bucky fandom #bucky fan fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst

[cheolhub]

CUM INSIDE! ⌇BTS REACTIONS ࿐

— PROMPT: bts member’s reaction to hearing “cum inside!” for the first time.

— PAIRING: members x f!reader

— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.

— WARNINGS: creampies (duh), rough sex, baby talk (joon and tae), overstimulation, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do this), mentions of birth control, forced (?) creampie in jimin’s, mean dom!hobi, heavy degradation (use of slut & bitch), spanking (1), tae w/ breeding kink (he’s crazy), slight mention of insecurity in koo’s, peer pressure (?), whiny jk <3 heavy praise & use of pet names (if i missed any let me know :0)

— A. NOTE: hellooooo this is my first time writing for bts so please be kind, but also let me know what u think :D !! xx

KIM NAMJOON  ࿐

namjoon doesn’t want kids (at least not right now), you know that, but the way he fucks you makes you believe otherwise. you almost think he’s crazy the way he fucks you stupid without fail every. single. time. it’s only worse when you utter the words he’s wanted to hear for so long.

“cum in me, joonie!” you cry out, hands gripping the sheets.

his pace is already brutal, but there’s something so taboo about hearing your desperate voice that makes him snap. his eyes nearly roll and any coherent thought about safety leaves his mind.

“yeah? you want me to fill up this cute cunt?” he grunts as the blunt head of his cock bruises your cervix. “want me to give you a fuckin’ baby? s’ that it?”

you know he doesn’t know what he’s saying. he knows you’re on birth control. he knows he doesn’t want a kid, yet he’s going to fill you up to his heart’s content.

“joon!“ you squeal as you clench tightly around his cock, eyes threatening to roll back at his dirty words. the only thing you know now is his name. 

he moans at how your cunt envelops his fat cock in the most perfect manner. “you like that idea? fuck, m’ gonna give it all to you, okay? just cream my fuckin’ cock, baby,” he babbles, his grip on your waist tightening as he throbs inside of your spasming pussy. 

you cum without warning, a silent scream fleeing your mouth, and the feeling of you wrapping even tighter around him makes him cry loudly. his toes curl as his orgasm washes over him and he shoots long ribbons of cum inside of you. 

“oh, fuck yeah, baby,” he moans loudly as he rides out his orgasm rutting into you as his cum fills you up. “y-you did so fuckin’ well,” he stutters as he collapses on top of you, softening length slipping out of your creamy cunt. 

“you,” you pant out, trying to regain full consciousness. “are insane.”

“all for you, baby.” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. “now what do you say we do that again in the shower?”

KIM SEOKJIN ࿐

seokjin would quite literally do anything you asked of him. you’re his girl, his princess, his angel. if you wanted him to, he’d walk to the ends of the earth. he’s never been opposed to anything you’ve asked of him. but when you ask him to fill you up with his cum, he’s taken aback.

“are you… sure?” he questions worriedly, yet his cock hardens at the mere thought of his cum dressing your insides. 

you nod, a sweet smile on your face, “yeah, only if you wanna… just wanna try it, yunno? see what the hype is about!” you reason. “if we don’t like it, you can keep making a mess on my face, i love that too,” 

he clears his throat, nodding his head—anything for his girl. 

and that’s how you ended up here.

“jinnie!” you cry feeling him move deeper inside with every stroke. 

“fuck,” he groans, hands tightly gripping your waist as he works his cock into your sloppy pussy. “gonna cum, princess, are you ready?” 

you gasp, nodding vigorously, excited to feel the warmth of his cum. “yeah— hah! cum in me, please!” 

he feels the way you clench around him and lets out a soft moan as he buries himself deep inside your gummy walls. he empties his load inside painting your walls and leaving the both of you shaking and withering.

he pants, pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of your ruined cunt. it’s almost as if he’s entranced by it, fingers moving to push it back into you before his mind could stop him.

you whine his name loudly at the sudden contact, “b-baby! s’ too much!” your hand wraps around his wrist, but he simply shakes you off. 

“uh-uh, can’t waste what you asked for, princess,” he mumbles, continuing to finger fuck his cum into your overstimulated pussy. he’s never cumming anywhere else. 

MIN YOONGI ࿐

you were horny. so unbelievably horny. with yoongi spending so much time in the studio, there wasn’t much you could do with yourself. sure, you could use your fingers or the magic wand you’d bought before the two of you got together, but you knew it wasn’t going to be enough. you need to feel every inch of him stretching you out. 

that’s when you end up at his studio, typing in the code on the keypad. when you walk in, he turns to look at you, a small grin appearing on his face. “hi, baby,” he stands to kiss you. “what are you doin’ here?”

you hum softly, thinking of something enticing to say to provoke him. you bite back a smirk as your hand runs over his cotton-covered chest, “missed you, yoongi…” you start, a pout forming on your face. “missed your hands… your lips… your cock,”

his breath hitches, “babe, i- i have to–”

“need you to cum inside, yoongi, please? need it– crave it, fuck,” you paw at the elastic band of his sweats. “m’ so wet, baby… can’t you spare–”

he cuts you off with a groan, pushing you onto the couch in the corner of his studio. “can’t go a day without cock, huh?” as you shake your head vigorously at the question, he simply chuckles. “well, i’ll help you out, sweet girl, and how about this– i fuck you and bust a fuckin’ load so deep inside, you’ll feel me for days? you want that, pretty baby?”

you let out a gaspy whine, arching your back off the plush sofa for even the slightest touch. “pleasepleaseplease, wan’ it,”

he smirks before complying with your every need, making you cum countless times within the time you spent impaled on his thick cock. he called you every name in the book from his good girl to his needy bitch, all the while, you were a drooling, overstimulated mess agreeing to everything slipping from his mouth. and when he came, his cock nestled deep inside your pussy, angry red tip kissing your cervix, he swore he’d never spend a day without you again.

JUNG HOSEOK ࿐

“my baby is such a fucking needy cumslut,” hoseok laughs condescendingly, hand moving to strike your wiggling ass.

you had asked him to cum in you as soon as he’d walked into the door of your home. little did you know, hoseok had a not-so-good day and that bright smile you were used to was replaced with a pent-up scowl. 

now you’re letting him use you, and god, does it feel good.

you yelp at the feeling of his hand, moaning out, “yours! your cumslut!” you arch your back, raising your ass up for him and making his cock move deeper into you. every rigid vein feels delicious and you can’t help but feel close to cumming. 

he coos, “that’s right, doll, all mine to fucking use and dump my cum in, hmm?’ his hand squeezes the flesh of your ass and he groans loudly. “so perfect, pussy’s all mine,”

“god, yes hoseok! use me!” you cry desperately both at his words and the tightening knot you feel deep in your tummy. “‘m g-gonna cummm!” 

your arms fail you and you fall into your pillow, soaking it with your tears and drool as you cry and scream over the powerful orgasm.

“that’s it, doll, gonna give you what you want,” he gasps, stilling at the hilt and letting himself go. his cock twitches and spurts thick ropes of cum over your velvet walls. “fuckkk,”

the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides makes you gasp and weakly clamp around him, “feels so good, baby!” you whine, lifting your head from the ruined pillow. 

he hums, rubbing your red ass with a big smile on his face. he’s quick to pull out and clean you up just to pepper kisses all over your face and whisper soft praises in your ear for the rest of the night.

PARK JIMIN ࿐

jimin is terrified. no matter how many times you reassure him that you’re on birth control and can’t get pregnant, there’s still a voice in the back of his mind that yells ‘no!’ when you ask him to cum in you. 

you moan as jimin grunts into your neck. “baby, please!” you beg, “wanna feel it, wanna feel your cum! pleaseeee!” you’re crying now, desperate tears slipping from your eyes.

he moans at the sound of your cries, cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you. “y-you know i-i can’t, angel,” he stutters, growing weaker with your begs. 

you whine, a mantra of pleads slipping past your kiss-swollen lips as he thrusts into you. you card your fingers through your hair, gripping it tightly and tugging on it to pull him out of your neck. he looks at you with eyes filled with lust, yours filled with pure need. 

“m’ gonna pull out–” he starts but is cut off by your protest. 

“no!” you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist. you hold him against you tightly, forcing him to stay nestled inside of you. jimin’s eyes lose their darkness, instead filling with panic. 

“let go, love,” he pants out. “c-can’t hold it,”

you shake your head vigorously, practically fucking yourself onto his cock. “let go f’me, minnie. fill me up, wanna feel you close to me. wanna feel your hot cum, baby, please!”

“Y/N–”

you gasp when it happens. jimin’s hot cum filling you to the brim as he twitches and gasps and moans over your body. the mere feeling has you cumming all over him, coating him with your sticky arousal. 

jimin’s head fogs when he finally slips out, watching your mixed cum drip ooze out of your cunt. he can’t help but shiver watching the scene unfold– you look so sexy covered in sweat and spilling the cum you begged for with that fucked out expression. suddenly, he feels addicted to the sight, feeling the need to fuck his cum into you again and again and again. 

“i’m sorry…” you whimper out. 

he shakes his head, still breathless. “maybe you can make it up to me?”

“how?”

“lemme fill you up again,”

KIM TAEHYUNG ࿐

taehyung’s carnal desire to breed you is almost scary. you’re fully aware of his intense baby fever, but you’ve had to beg him not to cum in you. you use the same excuse, “we’re not ready,” or “just a bit longer,” and taehyung respects that, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still crave it.

but when you are ready on one random day, you whisper aloud while his arm is wrapped around your waist and his hand playing with the elastic band of your panties. “tae… think m’ ready…”

taehyung knows exactly what that means, so he’s quick to move and it isn’t until he’s made you cum countless times that you realize you’ve made a mistake. 

“fuckfuckfuck, gonna make you the prettiest mama, swear to god,” he moans, thrusting into your sloppy pussy. a white ring of your arousal coloring the base of his cock. “angel, m’ gonna fill you up, cums gonna take, promise,” he babbles and you can’t help the overstimulated whines and cries that slip from your mouth. 

“tae!” is all you can say through broken moans, but he needs more— craves more.

“t-tell me you wan’ it,” he slurs, thumb moving to your clit. “tell me you wanna have my fuckin’ baby, tell me you wanna be cute n’ round for me,”

“please! fuck, please tae, need it,” you beg, arching your back into his touch. “need you to fuck a baby into me— oh!” 

you’re cut off by the feeling of his hot cum flooding your womb and taehyung’s broken moans. as both of you shake and cry together, tae can’t help but let out a breathy laugh at the idea of finally starting a family.

“fuck, i love you…” he mumbles against your swollen lip. “gonna take good care of you and our baby, my love, i promise.”

JEON JUNGKOOK ࿐

you and jungkook are experimentalists. the two of you loved and trusted one another more than anything else. you’ve almost tried everything, from orgasm denial to fucking in a public park, but you’ve always been safe. always wearing a condom, and if you’re out, he’s opting to fuck your mouth or tits, staying as far away as he can from your illicit pussy.

your best friend had scared you, though. “Y/N, you know it feels better for guys without the condom? he’ll leave you if you keep making him wear one,” she told you.

you know jungkook, though, and he’d never do that… right? If you were so sure, the thoughts wouldn’t be swirling around in your head while you’re right under him. 

“been needing to fuck you so bad all day,” he moans into your neck, hungrily nipping at the sensitive skin, cock thrusting in and out of you. you hum, mindlessly, and jungkook stops, noticing your lack of response. “is something wrong?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

you sigh, “do you wanna fuck me raw?”

his cock twitches inside you and you have your answer. he chokes, breath caught in his throat, “w-what?! i-is this a trick question?”

“no, it’s a yes or no question: do you or do you not wanna fuck me raw?”

“i-i mean, i do eventu–”

you cut him off, “okay, fuck me raw then, koo,” you say, reaching between your legs to pull his cock out of you, peeling the flimsy rubber off and tossing it to the side. you watch as he gawks, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “c’mon, baby, fuck me. wanna feel you,” 

he groans at your words, taking hold of his member and aligning it with your sticky hole. he takes a breath, looking up for reassurance before pushing into you.

And holy fuck, you understand why guys love this. you can feel every single rigid vein on his cock deliciously as you trap him in your heat. 

jungkook cries a high-pitched string of curse words as he bottoms out, “b-baby, oh fuck! baby, you feel so– oh, god… i won’t last lo-oong,” he moans as you tighten around him.

you realize how addicting the feeling is, whimpering out, “cum inside my pussy, koo,” without thinking. you’ll worry about it later as you do your other issues. “please, baby, s’ gonna feel so good, just let go inside,”

something in him snaps, grabbing you by the hips and fucking into you like an animal. his speed is quick and uncoordinated. it makes you feel like a flailing rag doll, but fuck, you feel so good. 

“c-cumming!” he cries, gritting the word through his teeth as you feel your velvet walls being sprayed with his thick, hot cum. “oh, baby, fuck. you’re so fucking dirty… so hot,” he whines. 

you mewl, basking in the feeling of his cum, “no more condoms,” you pant, flipping him over for a round two. “let’s go again,”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts reaction #bts reactions #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #hobi smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #rm smut #suga smut

[froggibus]

Hey can I request headcanons for overwatch characters and if their gf was drunk and asked them "would you still love me if I was a worm" with the overwatch men please (you don't have to do all of them but PLEASE include McCree and Reaper)

“Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?” - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Reaper, Genji, Zenyatta, Ramattra, Hanzo, Lucio + Baptiste (w gn! reader)

Genre: fluff/kinda crack?

CW: general crack, kinda dumb tbh, suggestive in Genji and Baps, Ram is Ram (lmk if I missed anything)

been in a little bit of a writing slump but this was too good to pass up lol. I want to get a bit more writing done this week so who knows how that will go. anyway, enjoy <3 hope you like it anon!

————

Cassidy:

“what kinda question is that??”

looks at you in flabbergastation 

you pout and bat your eyes at him and of course, he breaks 

“you’re really not gonna let this go, huh? alright—of course I’d still love you, darlin’. I’d keep you in a lil jar and you could accompany me on my missions”

a jar????

now you’re the flabbergasted one 

jars don’t have air—he’s gonna let you suffocate?? 

what are you?? rainbow dash (sorry)??

somehow leads to him going out into the yard despite it being the middle of the night to try and find a worm

somehow finds one?? 

keeps it in a jar as a pet just to prove he would love you as a worm

even names it after you and pets it’s head and calls it “my wriggly little y/n”

weirdly wholesome experience would try again

Reaper

“of all the stupid shit you could have asked me…”

he says that but he’s already considering it after the question leaves your mouth 

would he love you as a worm? 

“what kind of worm”

what do you mean what kind of worm?? does it matter?? 

obviously the pink wriggly kind 

he has to ponder this 

sits in his chair stroking his chin trying to think of how you would be as a worm

“would you still be able to talk and think or would you be an actual worm”

????

“it would be me if I was a worm, Gabe”

more pondering 

“I’d love you platonically but you would probably have a short life span. I’d throw you a worm funeral.”

better than any response you could have expected but would not try again

Genji

“would we still have sex”

please hit this man

he’s joking of course—he’s not that weird 

“why would you be a worm tho”

just answer the question, Genji

green cyborg ninja dude has no idea what to answer 

will you be mad if he loves your worm self more than your current self?? would you be weird if he said he would love a wormy version of you??

“I would get myself turned into a worm too and then we could have a wormy life together and a wormy wedding and little wormy kids”

“you just want to have wormy sex” >~>

“that too”

at least he’s honest?

exactly as you expected, would not try again

Zenyatta

“a worm? like the insect?”

“yes? what other worms are there”

considers this

“is everything okay?”

poor omnic boy is so confused. are you planning on turning into a worm??? 

please reassure him it’s just a hypothetical and you’re not turning into a worm

goes on a ten minute tangent about how we are all the same in the Iris, and that he will love you no matter what form you take

honestly so wholesome + cute 

“i will care for you in this life, and the next, and all of the ones after that. even the ones where you are a worm.”

good enough would try again

Ramattra 

“No”

way to sugarcoat it, babe

it’s only when you get upset that he sighs and pulls you into his lap

“why would you ever become a worm? is someone trying to harm you? you know I would never let anyone bring harm to you.”

you try to explain that it’s just a hypothetical but he’s already going on a tangent on what he would do if you got turned into a worm

talks for five minutes alone on how he would defeat your enemies and defend your honour 

says he would “put you out of your misery”????

“you would KILL ME?!”

“as an act of honour”

babe….

0/10 would not try again

Hanzo

“why”

idk bro just answer the question 

lots of sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose

“would I also be a worm or am i still human” 

only gets more confused when you say he’d be a human and you’d be a worm

probably looks up worm life expectancy and if worms are capable of love 

“would you even know who I am if you were a worm”

has to ask a million questions before he can give his final verdict 

lets out a long sigh before looking you dead in the eyes 

“…yes”

cute in the end but would not try again 

Lucio:

“would you still love me if I turned into a frog?”

that’s not the question 

somehow it turns into a discussion on if he would eat your worm self if he was his frog self? 

he insists he wouldn’t and would let you ride on his back but you insist his frog instincts would be too strong 

“babe I’ve once seen you almost eat your own finger while eating chips”

“ok and??”

says you guys could live in a swamp together and he would protect you from evil

“I could be like your own frog superhero. I could even sing you little froggy songs”

makes up this entire life of you guys living together as a frog and a worm and him serenading you by croaking songs at night 

honestly it’s the best reaction you could have gotten, would try again

Baptiste:

“i would find you a cure and turn you back into a human”

honestly he’s very amused by this whole situation 

“but what if I want to be a worm”

“if I cure you and you want to turn back into a worm, that’s on you”

fair enough

insists he needs to ‘examine’ you so he knows you’re not turning into a worm 

makes a lot of jokes at your expense too

finally sighs and admits he would keep you in a little terrarium with all the food and nutrients you need 

“ha, so you would love me if I was a worm”

“love is a strong word”

good enough, would not try again

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #overwatch headcanons #x you #hanzo shimada x reader #genji shimada x reader #zenyatta x reader #ramattra x reader #cole cassidy x reader #reaper x reader #lucio x reader #baptiste augustin x reader #lucio ow #overwatch hcs

[hardly-an-escape]

what's in a name? | Dream/Hob | 9300 words | rated E

this is my submission for @designtheendless's 3K commission giveaway: a Dreamling fic based on their fanart above!

tags: alternate universe - human, photographer Hob Gadling, artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, model Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, strangers to lovers, snowed in, only one bed, light dom/sub, oral sex, face fucking, anal fingering, anal sex, anonymous sex, Dream of the Endless is a horny little weasel, and Hob is no less of a horny little weasel, brief Princess Bride references, alcohol consumption, impulsive decision making, callous disregard for the geography of northern California, they go from 0-60 because they’re both nuts, neither of them are in a great place but they do make each other better rather than worse

Hob is on an ill-fated road trip through California. He’s making his way slowly down the coast toward Los Angeles when, trapped by a snowstorm in a small town near Mount Shasta, he meets a mysterious stranger in a diner. They share a night of anonymous passion – but when the sun rises, Hob finds that he can’t just leave the stranger behind…

this story developed partially from Picture Perfect, one of my Fluffbruary 2024 fills. I also incorporated some of designtheendless's other suggested image prompts, so do make sure you check their original post! and thank you so much for extending the deadline, it meant I had time to get my CHBB fic submitted before pivoting to finish this... and even so I'm still barely getting it done in time just because of who I am as a person :D

Hob leans forward over the steering wheel, brows furrowed as he peers through the driving snow at the street ahead. The windshield wipers are going like mad; he’s seen a plow or two out, but they seem to barely be making a dent, so traffic has slowed to a crawl. Which is, frankly, for the best, since the weather is bad enough that only a true nutter would be out in it at all.

Well… nobody’s ever accused Hob of being sane.

His GPS instructs him to take the next right and informs him that his destination will then be on his right. He can just make out the neon sign through the thick flakes: Townhouse Motel. “Vacancy,” it says below the old-timey script, blinking on and off. In the distance, the sun is just beginning to settle behind some mountains that he’s sure would be beautiful if they weren’t hidden behind such inclement weather.

He pulls in the driveway. The lot is nearly empty, so he parks right next to the office door and jams his winter cap on his head before hurrying through the flurries.

The bored teenager behind the front desk barely looks up from the reality show playing on her tablet as she runs Hob’s credit card and gives him his door key – an actual, physical key. Room 1389. He decides it’s not worth it to ask why the room number has four digits when the motel has maybe a dozen rooms total.

He does ask if there’s somewhere nearby to get a bite to eat and a drink.

“There’s a diner across the street and down a block,” the teenager says, “but they don’t serve booze.” Then, finally looking up, perhaps seeing the bags under his eyes and his generally downtrodden demeanor, she relents. “There’s a liquor store about two blocks past that. You can bring stuff back to your room, I guess. It’s not like anybody is going to ask questions around here.”

That, Hob thinks as he heads back outside and moves his rental car a little closer to his door, is obvious. There’s a general air of neglect clinging to the motel, and indeed to the whole street, from what he can see: the buildings are a little more weatherbeaten than can be plausibly explained by a cute vintage aesthetic, and at least one storefront seems to be permanently boarded up. The recession has clearly hit Northern California just as hard as it has the rest of the United States.

What a time to be playing tourist. What a time to be – well, he won’t think about that right now.

His room is clean, at least. Someone, at some point in time, has made a half-hearted attempt to decorate it with a seaside theme. The bedlinens are various shades of blue, rather than your typical beigey-white. There’s an unfortunate painting of a mermaid hanging over the outdated television, and a slightly less unfortunate painting of a lighthouse above the bed. The bathroom wallpaper has little seashells on it.

Hob leaves his camera bag on the desk and his duffel on the end of the bed, grabs his wallet, turns his collar up against the cold, and heads back out into the snowy evening.

The diner is, as promised, only a short walk down the street, but Hob is shivering by the time he gets there. The wind cuts right through him – silly British man that he is, he thought California would be warm, even in winter. He hadn’t really reckoned with unpredictable mountain weather, or with the cold front that was chasing him down through the southern end of the Cascades. The weatherman on the radio had been calling it “freakish.”

A little bell tinkles merrily when he pushes open the door. A waitress calls out a greeting, tells him to sit wherever he likes and she’ll be right with him. There’s only one other person in the diner, a slender man dressed all in black who is hunched over a cup of coffee at the counter. He glances up and immediately back down as Hob stomps the snow off his boots and takes an empty booth far enough away from the front door that he won’t feel the rush of cold air if anyone else comes in.

The waitress bustles over, bringing him a cup of coffee without even asking. Hob wraps his fingers around it gratefully. He doesn’t normally drink coffee this late, but it’s been the kind of day that calls for it: so cold, so uncomfortable and distressing, that the sturdy ceramic mug is exactly what he wants. The bitter note of slightly burnt coffee is tempered by the cheap, artificially flavored vanilla creamer he only ever uses at this kind of greasy spoon diner. He breathes deep and feels something inside him start to thaw.

When the waitress comes back with a menu, he warms up even more. She is middle-aged and comfortable, nice and no-nonsense, the sort of person with an indeterminate American accent who could have come from anywhere: Illinois, or Florida, or five minutes down the road. She recommends the olive burger with fries, and a side of fried pickles, because they’re the best in the county, and then her excitement simply bubbles over.

“I’m just so darn tickled to have two Brits here in the same night!” she enthuses. “Oh gosh, is that okay? Can I call you Brits or is that rude?”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Hob laughs. “Two of us, eh? That is a coincidence.”

“I know, right? Okay hon, lemme just get your order in and I’ll be back to warm up your coffee in a sec.”

She bustles away again, and Hob looks curiously at the man at the counter. He must have heard her comment, but he hasn’t turned around, or indeed acknowledged Hob in any way since he came in. He shrugs mentally and turns away to look out the window at the thickly swirling snow. It’s dark enough now that streetlights have come on, casting cones of light in which the flakes dance like a very slow sodium-tinted tornado.

He wishes he had a book. Or a crossword puzzle, or one of those packets of crayons they give to kids at restaurants. Something to keep his hands occupied and his mind off of everything that was threatening to consume it, off of the last few days, off of her –

Then the man from the counter slides into the booth across from him.

“Hello,” Hob says.

“Hello,” the stranger says. His voice is surprisingly deep and resonant, coming from his slim frame, and he looks to be in his late twenties, perhaps a few years younger than Hob. He is very pale. His dark hair is sticking up rather wildly and his eyes are a cold, clear blue that reminds Hob of the way the sky had looked this morning, before the clouds had descended.

“Who are you, then? Aside from a fellow Brit?” asks Hob.

“No one of consequence.” He’s lugging around a small backpack, which now rests on the bench beside him.

“I must know,” Hob says in a very bad Inigo Montoya accent.

“Get used to disappointment,” the stranger says with a smirk, and Hob laughs.

“Oh, we’re going to get along just fine,” he says, holding his hand out across the table. “My name’s Hob, yes that’s my real name, and yes, it is a long story.”

The stranger shakes his hand briefly. His palm is warm from cupping his coffee cup, but the tips of his fingers are cold. “Pleased to meet you, Hob.”

“And do you have a name, stranger?”

“I do. Several, in fact.”

“Any of them for public consumption?”

The stranger shrugs. “Will you forgive me if I maintain a certain level of mystery?”

Hob shrugs too. “That’s your lookout, mate. No skin off my nose.”

They chat. About the weather, and how odd it is, and how different to England. About books – the stranger appears to be a voracious reader, and Hob had loaded up an old iPod with audiobooks in preparation for a lot of driving, which sparks a lively debate on the merits of printed books vs reading aloud. In the midst of this, Hob’s food arrives, and he is derailed momentarily from the conversation by an overwhelming need to unhinge his jaw and stuff as many chips into his gob as humanly possible. The stranger watches in amusement.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Hob says, muffled by his burger. “Been driving pretty much all day and I didn’t really want to stop, so…”

He’s suddenly self-conscious, very aware that the man sitting across from him is slender and willowy and dressed all in black, and that he himself is very much… not that. Dressed for comfort and warmth in slightly baggy jeans and a flannel shirt and his puffy jacket balled up on the bench beside him. But the stranger seems unbothered, simply smiling slightly and snagging a fried pickle off the plate between them, which Hob had invited him to share moments after it had arrived.

They are good; crispy and salty and uniquely American. Hob is certainly prepared to believe they’re the best in the county.

“So are you staying here in town, or is that shrouded in mystery as well?” he asks, once he’s slowed down a bit.

“I’ve been staying in a cabin up the mountain, a little way out of town. With my family.” He said the word family as though it is faintly dirty. “One of my siblings thought it would be good for us to get away together. But I have found it… trying.”

“Up the mountain, eh? Are you going to be able to get back in this?”

Hob tips his head toward the window. It is very dark now, and the snow is falling more thickly and wildly than ever. A crease appears between the stranger’s eyebrows.

“To be honest, I had not thought that far ahead.”

“Do you have much experience driving in the snow?”

To Hob’s surprise, the stranger actually blushes, just a gentle stain of pink across his cheekbones. “I… walked.”

“You walked?”

The waitress, stopping by the table to warm up their coffees, echos Hob’s surprise.

“Oh, honey,” she says. “In this? How are you fixing to get home?”

“I was planning to walk back,” the stranger says with some asperity. “But I admit I was not anticipating this kind of weather.”

“Let me check on the roads for you,” the waitress says kindly. “Which cabin did you say you’re at? My brother-in-law lives up that way, I’ll give him a call. I’m sure we can find you a ride.”

She goes back behind the counter and picks up the phone.

“I’m happy to give you a ride,” Hob says quietly. “If she thinks it’s safe.”

“You do not have to do that.”

“‘S okay. I want to.”

“Bill? It’s Jan. I have a question for you,” says the waitress.

Hob realizes, suddenly and with some surprise, that it is quite true, that he is not just being polite: he does want to help this mysterious stranger, who talks like a 19th-century Byronic hero and dresses like a college goth. His stomach is doing the tiniest little swoop every time they make eye contact, and he doesn’t want it to stop.

The waitress calls over to him.

“You got four wheel drive, hon?”

Hob thinks about the little Honda Civic in the motel parking lot. Thinks about mountain roads and snow. Shakes his head no.

Scraps of the waitress’s conversation float across the diner and Hob takes another bite of his burger.

“– well they’re foreign, Bill, they don’t –”

He snickers just a little; can’t help himself, really, because the waitress is just so kind and helpful and also clearly more than a little bit befuddled by their presence in her diner. These two Brits, total strangers, so unalike one another – and yet here they are, sharing a booth and a plate of fried pickles, five thousand miles and change away from home. He exchanges a look of camaraderie with the stranger and eats some more chips. They’re good too.

“– and tomorrow? What’s the overnight –”

After another minute or two the waitress thanks her brother-in-law and hangs up the phone. Her face is serious when she comes back to their table.

“Well, boys,” she says, “I don’t think anyone is going anywhere tonight. Bill says it’s pretty bad up there, and only getting worse. The plows aren’t even going out yet on account of the snow’s still coming down so hard, it doesn’t make sense to try and clear anything. You going to be able to find a place to stay?” she asks the stranger.

He looks at Hob. “Did you mention a motel?”

“Yeah, the Townhouse?” Hob says, and the waitress nods along. “I don’t know for sure if there are rooms available, but it didn’t look like the parking was full.”

“Probably not, this time of year,” interjects the waitress. “It’s a fine place, and Paulie can certainly use the business. I’ll bring your checks by in a minute, guys.”

She leaves them again. Her sensible sneakers squeak against the floor tiles as she walks.

“Thank you again for your offer of a ride,” the stranger says quietly. “That was very kind of you.”

“Course. I’m just sorry you won’t be able to get home tonight,” Hob says.

“It is my own fault. I should not have behaved so impulsively. But my siblings…” The man frowns. “As I said, they can be difficult. I would have done something regrettable, had I remained in the house.”

Hob waves a hand. “Ah, it happens to the best of us. Especially around family. You should hear some of the fights I’ve had with my sister, we can scream the paint off the walls when we get going.”

“Indeed,” the man says darkly.

“I’m glad you did come to town, though. It’s been kind of nice,” Hob says tentatively. “Having someone to talk to tonight.”

“Indeed,” his stranger repeats. But this time one corner of his mouth lifts in a tiny smile. “It seems to have worked out in my favor.”

Hob smiles back. “So, are you really not going to tell me your name?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun, eh?” Hob glances down at his own hands, folded on the table, back at the stranger. “Is that what this is?”

The stranger smirks. He leans forward and plucks another fried pickle from the plate. He opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue just a little bit farther than necessary to pop the slice into his mouth. He chews, and smirks some more, and gives Hob an unmistakable up-and-down appraising glance, and underneath the table he presses one ankle against Hob’s instep.

Oh. Hob feels a surprising but not unfamiliar spike of arousal in his gut. So that’s where this is heading – has been heading, since he pushed open the door and the stranger had glanced up at him. Had he blushed, when his eyes met Hob’s? Or is he applying more detail to that brief interaction after the fact, now that he thinks he knows what his stranger is thinking?

And when had the man become his stranger?

“I see,” he says, and presses back against the bony ankle under the table.

Ten minutes later, they’ve settled their bills – his stranger had apparently eaten a club sandwich before Hob had arrived, and he’s weirdly relieved that the man has consumed something more substantial than coffee this evening – and are gearing up to head back into the cold. Hob is zipping up his coat when he realizes the other man appears to have only a thick black hoodie and a knit beanie (also black, of course). He glances out the window, where it’s still snowing pretty hard, and raises an eyebrow.

“You going to be okay in just that?”

“You said it is only a couple of blocks? I will be fine. I tend not to feel the cold. And,” he adds defensively, “when I originally walked down the weather was not quite so… inclement.”

“If you say so,” Hob says as he opens the door. The waitress calls out a good night and he waves to her over his stranger’s shoulder. Wonders, just for a moment, what she thinks of the fact that they’re leaving together, or if she will ever think of them again at all. They step out into the snowy evening. “The girl at the motel said there’s a liquor store down the street. Mind detouring there? I was thinking of picking up some whiskey, or something. Something to keep a man warm.”

The man chuckles and they head down the street. It’s not until they’re away from the diner windows that he takes Hob by the elbow and gently draws him just outside the circle of a street lamp.

“Surely,” he says, voice low, stepping into Hob’s space, “there are many ways for a man to… keep warm.”

And he kisses him.

His lips are warm and dry, a little chapped. It’s a simple kiss, a chaste one, just their lips touching and the barest pressure of the stranger’s belly and chest pressed against Hob’s, swathed in layers of winter gear. It lasts for a heartbeat, two, and then the man steps back with a hum of satisfaction.

“Oh?” says Hob, giddily. “It’s like that, is it?”

“Obviously,” responds his stranger.

“Well, I don’t know, mate,” says Hob as they make their way down the street. He resists the urge to link their arms together. “Maybe you play footsie with every guy you meet in random diners in Northern California.”

“Perhaps.”

The liquor store is a brief respite from the wind and the snow. Hob selects a mid-range bottle of whiskey and they trudge back to his motel room. The snowflakes and the streetlights and the swirling wind make everything feel more than a little bit surreal, like something out of a dream or a fairy tale. The two of them could be adventurers, explorers, wading through an arctic wasteland in search of shelter. The mountain looms behind them, dark and mysterious, like a great castle or some monstrous beast.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” asks his stranger, kicking off his boots dropping his backpack by the desk. “I’m afraid I did get rather sweaty, hiking down earlier. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up.” His gaze, beneath his long eyelashes, feels heavy and significant.

“Go right ahead.” Hob gestures toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to nip down to the lobby and get a bit of ice.” He retrieves the ice bucket from the desk, brushing close to his stranger as he does. The brief contact jolts him back to the real world. They’re not in the arctic waste; this handsome, ethereal man is here, in his motel room. He is pulling off his somewhat sodden hoodie and draping it over the back of the chair, and sniffing dubiously at the sweater he wears underneath it. He is real.

Hob waits until he hears the shower turn on to slip out the door.

Although he has his moments of cluelessness, Hob is not a stupid man. He knows where this is going. He recognizes the signs, the coy little dance they’ve been doing around each other for the past two hours, and no, he’s not a stupid man, but if he were a better one he might be able to resist the temptation of falling into bed with a beautiful stranger who won’t even share his name.

But there’s something about this man. Hob wants him. Already can’t resist him. Wants to wrap him up and keep him warm and kiss his collarbones and, yes, wants to fuck him, wants to feel him shudder and moan and wants to watch his cheeks flush and his head fall back in ecstasy. He hasn’t felt like this for a long, long time, and now it’s come out of nowhere to slam into him and hook into his gut, this wanting.

He throws a few scoops of ice from the machine in the motel lobby into the bucket and goes back to the room.

He’s kicked off his boots, unwrapped one of the shitty plastic cups, and poured himself a couple fingers of whiskey by the time he hears the shower shut off. There’s the usual shuffling noise of towels, a brief blast of the cheap hair dryer mounted to the wall. Then the door opens and the stranger emerges, and Hob is slammed from the real world right back into a surreal dream.

The man is even more beautiful without his clothes on: Hob would compare him to an elf or a fairy prince, but he’s too busy choking slightly on the spit that’s suddenly flooding his mouth at the sight of long, slim limbs, a narrow waist, and a temptingly well-defined Adonis belt that disappears under the cheap motel towel wound around his hips.

There’s a long moment of silent eye contact. Hob’s leaning up against the desk, cup cradled in one hand. His face heats as he watches his stranger’s eyes travel slowly down the length of his body and back up, pursing his lips slightly. His mouth is very pink, with the kind of full bottom lip that’s made for nibbling on, and the rest of his skin is as pale and smooth as… well, as snow, with just a touch of redness from the heat of the shower spreading across his chest.

Hob downs half of his whiskey without even thinking about it. He can’t look away. He can’t think, can’t even blink. He’s afraid that if he does, this vision will disappear and it’ll just be him, alone, a saddish man alone in a motel room with a bottle of booze and a bag of expensive camera equipment, and then who knows what will happen?

His stranger gives him one of those tiny half-smiles, suggestive, not quite a leer, and stalks across the room toward him.

He widens his legs and his stranger steps in to stand between his feet. He takes Hob’s drink out of his hand and tosses back the last swallow of whiskey before setting the plastic cup aside. Then he hooks one finger into the collar of Hob’s flannel shirt and pulls him into a kiss. His mouth is a study in contrasts: warm from the whiskey and cool from the ice, soft tongue and sharp teeth. They sink briefly, gently, into Hob’s bottom lip, and Hob pulls the man close against his chest and returns the favor.

The kiss is turning wet and messy when the man pulls back far enough to start fumbling with Hob’s shirt buttons. He’s pulled the tails of the shirt out of Hob’s jeans and has it about halfway unbuttoned when a phone starts ringing.

It’s not the room phone – it’s coming from a pocket of the man’s backpack.

“Ignore it,” he mumbles into Hob’s neck. “We are busy.”

The phone rings three times; four times. The stranger has finished with Hob’s shirt and is pulling the tee beneath it out of the waistband of his jeans by the time it finally stops.

His fingers are toying with Hob’s belt buckle and ghosting over the seam of his fly when it rings again.

The stranger groans audibly.

“Do you think,” Hob says with the carefully deliberate cadence of the very turned on, “that your family might be worried about you?”

“I do not care,” his stranger grumbles, and sinks gracefully to his knees.

Eventually the phone stops ringing again.

He’s worked Hob’s belt and fly open and is nuzzling into the opening of his jeans, nosing at the base of Hob’s cock through his underwear and Hob is panting, his stranger’s hot breath so close to where Hob wants him most – when the phone rings a third time.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” snarls the stranger, and stands.

He fishes a slightly battered-looking BlackBerry out of an outside pocket of his backpack and stabs at the call answer button.

“What.”

He turns away, so all Hob can see is the furious, stiff line of his stranger’s back. He can’t hear the other half of the conversation, and he doesn’t think he wants to; every fibre of the man’s body radiates anger and discomfort and perhaps a little bit of shame. Hob adjusts himself discreetly, rezips his jeans, and tiptoes over to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Obviously I am alive. I am fine.” A pause. “I took a walk.” Another pause. “Yes. Yes, I know what time it is. No, I am assured that the roads were too bad to make it back to the cabin. I am in a motel room in…” He looks over to Hob. “What is the name of this place?”

Hob supplies the name of the motel, and that of the town as well, just for good measure. The man relays the information into the phone. There is another long pause.

“That is none of your business. Shut up. You have no idea what you’re talking about. And if you speak to me like that again I will hang up the phone.”

There is another, longer pause, during which the stranger’s face grows progressively redder. He is very deliberately not looking at Hob.

“No. I said no. I will arrange for my own transportation in the morning. I –”

The person on the other end of the phone must say something truly outrageous, because his strangers eyes bug out in a way that looks almost uncomfortable.

“Do the entirety of the known universe a favor and crawl back into whatever slime hole you emerged from and leave me alone,” he hisses. “Goodbye.”

Hob can’t quite muffle a snort at this crowning line. Siblings.

His stranger hangs up the phone with a vicious jab of a button and slams it down on the desk; then seems to reconsider, retrieves it, and shuts it off entirely before throwing it into his backpack. He sighs, a surprisingly tired sound.

“I will have another drink, if you don’t mind,” he says. “And then I would like it very much if you would fuck me. Please.”

Hob’s cock, which had been feeling distinctly neglected, gives a twitch.

“I think that can be arranged,” he says. “Are you –”

The stranger waves a dismissive hand. “I am quite sober enough to have sex with you. And I could easily afford my own room, if that’s a concern. I am here because I want to be.”

“Glad to hear it, but that actually isn’t what I was going to ask,” Hob says mildly.

“Oh,” the man says. A faint blush rises on his cheekbones. He scoops up the whiskey bottle and uncorks it, taking an unceremonious swig. The towel hangs dangerously low around his hips. “What were you going to ask?”

His stranger pauses with the whiskey bottle against his lips. Hob watches the long line of his neck work once, twice, as he swallows, and figures he may as well put his cards on the table.

“I was going to ask if latex condoms are okay. For when I fuck you into the mattress in a minute here.”

The man clears his throat. “Oh,” he says again. “Yes. Latex is fine.”

“Good. Anything you don’t like? Hard boundaries?”

He pauses. “I do not enjoy being choked. Or having my hands restrained in any way. But I like… I like it a little bit rough. It feels good. To be used.”

Hob leans back on one elbow. “Is that what you want me to do? Use you?”

“Yes.”

The word drops into the quiet room like a handful of snow might drop off a tree branch – soft and muffled and sending the same delicious shiver down Hob’s spine.

“I can do that.” Oh, yes. Hob can use this beautiful man, if he is offering himself up to be used. “C’mere, then.”

His stranger walks slowly across the room to where Hob is half-reclining on the bed, feet still planted on the floor. He kneels between Hob’s legs and runs his hands slowly up and down his thighs from knee to hip. “And you?” he asks. “Your boundaries?”

Hob considers. “I’m with you on choking, not a fan,” he says. “I’m not big on pain, generally, but I can give it to other people, if they need it.”

“Alright.” His hands are still rubbing up and down Hob’s thighs, a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. When he speaks again his voice is thick. “Would you consider the preliminary negotiations to be concluded now?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do with your mouth than spout off like a horny nineteenth century robber baron?” Hob counters.

His stranger smiles, a proper smile that crinkles the corners of his blue eyes, and unzips the fly of Hob’s jeans.

In short order he’s pulled them open and pushed Hob’s boxers down just enough that he can get his cock out. He’s not quite hard, not yet, but he gets there quickly between his stranger’s gentle, surprisingly soft hands and the way he immediately buries his nose in Hob’s pubic hair and breathes deeply as he looks up through his eyelashes.

Then he opens his mouth, and wraps his tongue around the head of Hob’s cock, and Hob’s brain makes a noise like radio static.

Oh, he is good at this. Unfairly good. Supernaturally good. He teases Hob for long, long minutes, working up and down his shaft with light touches of just his lips and tongue, ducking down now and then to mouth gently at his balls, until Hob is twitching and swearing and straining, perched on the edge of the bed. When he finally has mercy and takes Hob’s cock fully into his mouth, it is barely a relief. He is so wet, so hot, and he sinks down on Hob with no resistance, no trace of a gag reflex. Before he can stop himself, Hob’s hips jerk forward that final fraction, and suddenly his stranger’s nose is brushing his pubic bone and his throat is contracting around the head of Hob’s cock.

He’s expecting the man to pull back, to splutter in indignation, but instead he makes an encouraging noise and squeezes Hob’s thigh before folding his hands almost primly in his lap.

“Fuck,” Hob mutters. He makes an experimental shallow thrust into the tight, wet heat of his stranger’s mouth. “Really?”

His stranger can’t nod, not with Hob’s prick in his mouth, but he moans. Hob feels it vibrate all along the length of his shaft and has to stifle a whimper of his own. He sinks one hand into the soft riot of the man’s hair, still a little damp from the shower, and cradles the back of his skull. The bone feels sweet and finely formed in his hand.

“You want me to fuck your pretty face?” he asks, soft and just a tiny bit mean. “Yeah? That’s what your mouth is good for, isn’t it?”

He thrusts again, in and out, and the stranger’s eyes roll back a little in his head, so he does it again, and again. Soon he really is fucking his face, not too hard but deep, fingers tightening in his stranger’s hair as his eyes fall nearly shut, narrowing to crystalline blue crescents.

Hob pulls back briefly to let his stranger breathe. Runs his thumb along his bottom lip, dripping with spit, before he pushes back in. He doesn’t stop until he can feel the first tendrils of orgasm beckoning to him; but as tempting as it is to keep going, to empty himself into this perfect mouth, he’s made a promise. And Hob is a man of his word, so he pulls the man off his cock by the scruff of his neck. He makes an obscene noise as he goes, and another thing string of saliva dribbles from his puffy mouth. His eyes are slightly glassy as he looks up at Hob.

“Get up on the bed, baby,” Hob orders gently.

When the man stands up the towel is just barely clinging to his narrow hips, and his erection is stiff and straining against the terrycloth. He’s so hard, Hob thinks wonderingly, just from having Hob’s cock in his mouth for a few minutes, and his own prick throbs in sympathy.

“Hands and knees,” Hob says, and the man crawls up on the bed. The towel falls away as he goes, languid but obedient, so that he’s entirely naked when Hob positions himself behind him. The contrast between Hob’s clothes and the other man’s nudity is delicious – Hob’s rough denim against the man’s soft thighs, Hob’s hairy wrists poking out from worn flannel as he runs his fingernails along sharply elegant shoulder blades.

He allows himself one long, gentle caress, from the nape of his stranger’s neck down to the shallow dimples in the small of his back, before he grabs at the man’s buttocks and unceremoniously spreads him open.

His hole looks surprisingly loose and relaxed already. Hob runs the pad of one thumb over it.

“Were you prepping yourself in the shower?” he asks, delighted. He presses gently and the furl of muscle gives, just a little, pink and fluttering.

“Hng,” says his stranger, shuddering. “Yes. I thought – I thought about your hands. Oh. I liked the thought that you were just outside the door. While I had my fingers inside myself.”

“Impatient little minx,” Hob says fondly. He kisses one of the lovely knobs of his stranger’s spine and pinches his backside for good measure before pulling away. “Stay here.”

He has to dig down to the bottom of his duffel bag in order to find the box of condoms and the little travel sized bottle of lube. He’d felt a little self-conscious when he’d packed them back in his flat in London – like he was presuming something – but then again he had been preparing for a supposedly romantic road trip with his girlfriend.

He’s glad, now, that he has them.

His stranger has remained on his knees, pitched forward to rest on his elbows, face pressed into a pillow and cock hanging heavy between his legs.

“Good boy,” Hob praises, and runs his hand along the man’s flank. “Beautiful. Oh, darling, I’m going to make you feel so good. And then you’re going to make me feel so good, aren’t you? You already have,” Hob coos, drizzling lube directly onto his arsehole. “And I know you’re going to keep being a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

Before the man can answer, Hob slips a finger inside him, right up to the first knuckle. He’s rewarded with a whimper and the feeling of his stranger pushing back against him, silently begging for more.

And then not so silently. “More,” moans the stranger. “Fuck. More, please.”

Hob strokes his finger in and out, petting the velvet inside his stranger.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll get more.”

He tries to spend as much time torturing his stranger with his fingers as his stranger had spent torturing him with his mouth, but by the second finger he finds his resolve dissolving like so many snowflakes on warm skin. The man is making such wanton sounds, and his knees skid wider and wider on the slippery motel bedspread, opening him inexorably to Hob’s hungry eyes and questing hands.

“Oh. Oh,” he says. “Oh, yes, fuck,” he moans. No more well-crafted phrases or erudite words; the only thing dropping from that perfect mouth are noises, guttural and breathy by turns, only half-muffled by the pillow his face is smashed into.

“Please,” he begs, “please, in me, I – please, I need –”

Hob obliges.

He’s pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life as he shoves his jeans down around his thighs and rolls the condom on. He has to do it one-handed, clumsily, because some frantic corner of his brain is convinced that if he lets go of the stranger’s hip then the man will disappear, between one blink and the next, and this whole night will turn out to have been some snowblind fever dream.

But his stranger stays where Hob has put him, desperate and writhing, begging for Hob’s cock, and when he finally pins the man down to the mattress and pushes into him, that first hard thrust is enough to silence both of them.

The room is utterly still for a heartbeat, and then another, and then one more, until Hob pulls out in order to thrust in again and his stranger wails and then Hob is fucking into him in earnest, fucking him hard, until the sound of their skin slapping together almost drowns out the sounds his stranger is making beneath him.

Almost.

His stranger moans and pants, and Hob answers him, thrust for thrust and moan for moan, Yes and Ah and Christ and Fuck, fuck me, use me, yes. He grips his stranger by the hips, so hard that his fingers leave little white divots behind when he shifts his grip, so hard that he worries he might leave bruises, and still the man pushes back against him and begs for more.

He comes, when he finally comes, untouched, rutting gracelessly against the mattress. Hob stills, grits his teeth, not wanting to overwhelm the other man as he seizes in pleasure, but his stranger continues to move against him, if anything even more desperate, even in the throes of orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps, “don’t, oh God, fuck me through it, don’t stop –”

So Hob hauls him up and pushes him down, one hand on his waist and one shoving his chest down into the mattress as the man’s hands scrabble at the sheets and he sobs and Hob pistons into him until he empties himself, until his prick is oversensitive and his stranger is twitching around and beneath him, and the room is finally quiet.

Then Hob takes the condom off, knots it and tosses it towards the wastebasket. He rolls them both away from the wet spot with only middling success, but he’s too tired to care. He shucks the rest of his clothes off. He is boneless and spent, and his stranger is inserting himself relentlessly into Hob’s personal space. They lie there for a long, long moment, sweaty and panting, until their breathing starts to even out and the desperate closeness has receded into normal cuddling. Hob presses a kiss to his stranger’s sweaty temple and marvels at his luck.

“I realize I neglected to ask you why you find yourself in Northern California,” his stranger says, tucked against Hob’s side, voice drowsy and hoarse. “Do you care to share?”

“It’s a long story,” Hob says. “I was – well, I am – on a road trip. With my, ah. With my girlfriend. Well. Ex-girlfriend, now. Actually.”

His stranger tenses slightly, and Hob doesn’t blame him; he knows how it must sound. “It sounds like there is a story there?” the man says, almost tentative.

“Yeah, we… we came over together, about two weeks ago. We flew into Seattle, were planning this whole big trip, right down the coast and all the way to Los Angeles. See the redwoods, do some wine tastings, the whole bit. I’m a photographer, I was thinking I could turn the whole trip into a photo essay, maybe even a book.” He sighs. “Then she heard about this yoga retreat, ashram sort of place. Bit culty, I don’t really go in for all that, but she absolutely had to check it out, so we did. Two days later, out of the blue, she tells me our chakras are misaligned and gives me the boot. Turns out Guru Todd Thingummy, who ran the retreat center, was very aligned with her chakras. As well as other, less… metaphysical things.”

There’s a sound from the vicinity of Hob’s armpit that he realizes with delight is a snort. The snort blossoms into a chuckle, and then his stranger is laughing, a frankly horrible honking sort of laugh, shaking in Hob’s arms with it, and Hob laughs along.

“I’m sorry,” his stranger gasps. “I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t laugh at you. It’s just… Guru Todd.”

“I know!” Hob snickers. “You can picture him, right? White boy dreadlocks and a fucking… shell necklace. Utter tosser.”

“I feel like I’ve probably met someone almost exactly like him, truly.” Eventually his stranger’s horrible laugh subsides. He shifts against Hob, playing idly with his chest hair, curling it around one finger. “In a way, I am also escaping a recent ex. She was the first person I dated after some… difficult experiences I had about a year ago. But in the end I was far more invested in the relationship than she, and she became. Uncomfortable. With my ardor.”

“She’s a bloody idiot then,” Hob says automatically, and his stranger looks up, startled.

“Do you think so?”

Hob briefly considers backpedaling. Don’t come off like a madman, he thinks to himself. Not when he’s finally talking to you. But there’s no hope for him. “Well, yeah. I mean, I’d say your ardor is my favorite thing about you so far.” He lets one hand drift down and gives his stranger’s arse a cheeky squeeze, and is rewarded with a squeak and another snort.

“You are kind to say so,” the man says, and interrupts himself with a yawn.

“It’s true. I… I’m really glad I met you,” Hob says honestly. Too honestly. He can’t help himself; the man is just so beautiful, mouth kissed red and limbs loose, fucked out and soft everywhere he’d been hard and prickly before.

Hob still doesn’t know his name.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” the man says softly.

Hob snuggles them both down into the lumpy motel pillows and pulls the blanket up firmly around their shoulders. The wind blows outside, he reaches up to switch off the lamp, and they fall asleep.

He wakes in the night and stumbles to the bathroom to take a piss. When he comes back, his stranger has starfished out and is taking up a full two-thirds of the bed, sleeping like a stone. Hob manages to reinsert himself into the remaining third and then simply lies there for a long few minutes, looking at the other man.

The skies must have cleared, at least a little, because there’s a few strips of moonlight filtering through the blinds. The pale light turns his stranger into marble, a work of art; he practically glows against the blue sheets. Hob’s fingers itch for his camera.

“You’re going to fuck me up,” he whispers. “I’m going to wake up next to you and never want to leave, and it’s going to fuck me up so bad.”

The sleeping man does not respond, of course; doesn’t even stir. Hob lies there, and gazes at him, until he slips back into sleep himself.

When he wakes again it’s fully morning. The sun is that peculiar thin shade of blue that you get on very cold mornings, but when Hob peeks out the window, the sky is clear and the snowplows have clearly been out making the rounds. He tries to tamp down a sudden feeling of disappointment.

He gets a drink of water, and when he returns to bed his stranger is stirring. First one blue eye opens, then the other.

“Morning,” Hob says.

The man hums and stretches luxuriously, rolling from his belly to his back. The sheets fall down around his hips, revealing one elegant hipbone and a tempting glimpse of dark curls. His pale skin practically glows against the blue sheets in the morning light.

“Enjoying the view?” his stranger asks, and his voice is rough with sleep and slightly hoarse.

“You could say that,” Hob says. He puts one knee on the bed, reaches out to run a hand lightly down the long, lean line of the man’s thigh. “God, you’re… you are so beautiful.”

“Come here to me,” the man says, beckoning to Hob.

Hob ducks his head and kisses up the ladder of the man’s ribs, takes one pert nipple gently between his teeth.

“Can I take your picture?” he says suddenly. “Not in a creepy way. I can even keep your face out of it if you like, I just… there’s something about you, in this light.”

“I don’t mind,” the man says.

Hob’s heart leaps.

A few minutes later, he’s gotten his camera out and adjusted. The room is so quiet, so still, that each click of the shutter sounds almost sacrilegious. He shoots in black and white. He thinks the sheets will show dark, almost black, and the man’s skin will show light and luminous against them. His stranger poses like a dream, languid and biddable, moving here and there on the bed, wherever Hob arranges him.

“You’ve done this before,” Hob accuses. He’s kneeling above the other man, shooting straight down, and his stranger has one arm thrown over his face so only one eye is visible. “Posed, I mean. You know how to move for a camera.”

“I have,” the stranger admits. “Mostly for life drawing classes, though I imagine the principle is more or less the same.”

“Incredible. Are you an artist, then?”

“I suppose.”

Hob tugs the sheet a little lower, so that it’s just barely covering the stranger’s prick, which has plumped up a little – whether from the attention of Hob himself or of the camera, he’s not sure, but it’s one of the sexiest things Hob’s ever seen. The neat patch of dark hair blending into the dark sheet. The gentle swell beneath it. His mouth waters.

“You suppose?”

“I find it difficult to call myself an artist. To claim that title. But I make art. If that is the same thing.”

“Hmm. I reckon so.”

Hob pulls the sheet another fraction of an inch lower. He can feel himself getting distracted. The itch he’d felt to photograph the beautiful stranger, now mostly satisfied, has transformed into an altogether different kind of impulse. He takes one more shot, barely paying attention to the framing. Catches himself licking his lips.

“Hob.”

“Yeah?”

“Put the camera down.”

He hastens to obey.

He’d pulled his boxers back on at some point last night, but they do little to hide his arousal as he slides under the sheets and slots himself in behind his stranger, rubbing his nose in the riotous bedhead and kissing his neck as the man tilts his head to one side to give him better access.

“I like how you say my name,” Hob murmurs. He grinds against his stranger’s narrow arse and reaches around to make a loose fist around his hardening cock. “You’re really not going to tell me yours, are you?”

“Mine?”

“Your name.”

“I –” The man’s breath hitches as Hob tightens his grip, stroking slowly up and down. “I haven’t – decided yet.”

“Well,” Hob says against the smooth skin between his ear and his shoulder. “Let me know what you decide.”

They writhe together under the sheets for a few minutes, until they’re both fully hard, until Hob’s chest is slightly tacky with sweat where it’s rubbing against the stranger’s sharp shoulder blades. He’s grunting, underwear pulled down, making quick little thrusts in the crease of the other man’s thigh, sticky and warm and so good.

“Fuck me again,” his stranger says. “Please.”

“Don’t be a madman,” Hob chides. “You’ll be so sore.”

But he doesn’t say no. And he slides a finger between the man’s arse cheeks and pets over his hole, still a little loose from the night before.

The stranger twists his neck around to look Hob in the eye. “I don’t care. I want you,” he says. “I want to feel it.”

And Hob tries his best to be a good person, he really does, but when confronted with this bald-faced desire he is only, after all, a man. So he mumbles Fuck, okay, yeah, okay against his stranger’s shoulder, and tears himself away to retrieve the lube and a condom. He fingers him open, as slowly and as carefully as he can bring himself to do it, and rolls the condom on, and he fucks him again. Face to face, this time; one knee hooked over his elbow, and long arms clinging to him like a drowning man, and panting, open-mouthed kisses that are as much simply breathing the other’s breath as they are real kisses.

The stranger comes first, his beautiful face screwed up in ecstasy, and Hob follows him over the edge mere seconds later.

The other man falls back into a doze almost immediately, drifting off as soon as Hob has disposed of the condom and wiped them down with a handful of tissues, but Hob is buzzing with too much energy to lie back down. He cleans himself up, splashing water on his face and brushing his teeth quickly, before dressing quietly and creeping down to the motel lobby to look for breakfast.

There’s a coffee machine, a few muffins – prepackaged, not fresh – and a rather sad fruit bowl with some mealy-looking apples. He assembles what he can and shoves some creamers and sugar packets in his jacket pocket. He asks the bored teenager at the front desk (a different one than the night before, although bearing a distinct family resemblance) about the weather report, and learns that although it’s supposed to stay cold, no more precipitation is in the forecast. Then he goes back to the room.

His stranger stirs again at the rush of cold air when Hob lets himself back into the room.

“I come bearing provisions,” he says, setting the coffees on the bedside table and dropping the rest of his meager bounty in the man’s lap.

“Foraging for our survival?” he asks dryly.

“Something like that. It’s slim pickings out there, I’m afraid. But hey –” he picks up a muffin and wiggles it “– chocolate chip!”

His stranger snorts and mutters something about being spoiled.

Hob is very careful not to say anything about how he’d like to spoil this man very much, actually, for the foreseeable future and possibly beyond that, because Hob has so longed for someone to care for, and because this man so obviously needs it. Hob eats his muffin, and very carefully does not say anything reckless or emotional.

They finish their motel snacks, and drink their coffees (Hob’s with a little creamer and one sugar; the stranger’s with no cream and an absurd amount of sugar). And eventually Hob broaches the subject that’s obviously hovering between them.

“So,” he says. “What do you want to do now? I’m still up to give you a ride to your cabin, if that’s what you want. The roads are supposed to be cleared by now.”

“I suppose I should,” the stranger says, fiddling with his styrofoam cup, not meeting Hob’s eyes. “I did tell my sibling that I would return in the morning.”

“Okay.” Hob clears his throat. “Alright then. Whenever you’re ready.”

It takes them another hour to leave the room. Hob showers, and then his stranger decides he needs to rinse off as well, and then there’s a frustrating search for car keys that turn out to have been kicked or dropped halfway under a bedside table at some point the night before.

Then the stranger stops Hob in the doorway with a hand on his elbow and kisses him, long and slow and wordless, before they step out into the brilliant snowy sparkle of the late morning.

The drive is very quiet. The stranger directs Hob out of town and along a rather steep road that winds up the thickly forested mountainside. It’s certainly not a road that Hob would have wanted to drive in last night’s weather, and even with clear skies and plowed roads he takes it slow, acutely aware of the grip of the rental car’s tires on the snowy highway.

Only one time does the stranger wince and shift uncomfortably when Hob cannot avoid a bump in the road. Hob smiles, and swallows his smile, and deliberately wrenches his mind away from the vivid memories of just why his stranger might be wincing and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

His stranger is silent, except for when he briefly tells Hob when and where to turn. The farther they drive up the mountain, the stiffer he becomes, until he’s gripping the seat with white knuckles and his mouth is one firm line.

Hob doesn’t think it’s the wintry roads that are making him so tense.

They pull over, eventually, at the base of a long driveway. Through the trees Hob can see a large house – not really a cabin by any stretch of the imagination, but built of logs, and with a wisp of woodsmoke floating up from a picturesque brick chimney. They both gaze up at it through the trees. Hob puts the car in park but doesn’t turn it off.

“Well, here we are,” he says.

“Indeed,” his stranger says, and his voice sounds tense and slightly strangled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Hob waits for him to open the door and walk away.

The man does not move.

A minute stretches by, and another, and another, and still his stranger has not opened the car door.

Hob dares to hope.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly.

His stranger looks up, startled.

“I mean it. Come with me. Go get your stuff and we’ll just. Drive away. Go down the coast, find somewhere it’s actually warm. Or don’t even get your stuff,” he adds hurriedly, aware that his voice is sounding increasingly unhinged. “Say the word and I’ll just turn the car around. We’ll go. Anywhere you want, just… come with me.”

The man looks at Hob with an unreadable expression for a long moment. “You know nothing about me,” he says finally.

“I know I like you. A lot,” Hob says. “I know last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, maybe one of the best nights of my whole life. I know I’d regret it if I didn’t at least ask. So, I’m asking. Come with me.”

“I haven’t even told you my name,” says his stranger. “I could be a serial killer.”

“You could be, yeah. But I don’t think you are. I think… I think you just want someone to want you.” Hob reaches across the gear shift and briefly touches his stranger on the cheek. The man’s eyes flutter closed and Hob doesn’t think he’s imagining the way he leans ever-so-slightly into the gentle touch before he looks down. “I want you.”

There’s another long silence, punctuated only by an occasional call from the chickadees flitting through the trees.

“My name is Morpheus,” he says to his hands, clenched in his lap. “But some people call me Dream. People – people close to me. Call me Dream.”

Hob smiles. “Can I call you Dream, then?”

Dream nods. “Let’s go,” he says. Hob’s smile widens.

“Want to get anything from inside?” he asks.

“No. I think not,” Dream says. All of a sudden it’s like the tight strings of his body are loosened: he leans back in his seat, crosses his ankles, looking relaxed for the first time since they’d gotten out of bed. He lolls his head to one side and peeks at Hob and his face looks fey and happy in the afternoon light. “I believe I have everything I need for now.”

Happiness wells up in Hob’s chest, a rushing feeling like a mountain spring swollen by melting snow. He puts the car in gear and reaches over to take Dream’s hand.

“Right then,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Read on AO3 >>>

#dreamling #the sandman #my writing #designtheendless

[sopiao]

could i request a human heat pack reader with our favorite 141 boys?

i’m very unusually warm. like every time i travel to russia to see family my mom and brother always use me as human heat pack.

have a great day!!

i just had this idea >:0

(great minds think alike >:)).

it would be so cute, they’d be so unconsciously touchy just to try to warm their hands during a mission in a cold area. where? Siberia. i don’t know that was just at the top of my head.

(Callsign: ‘Shark’ :3)

When they first land their all already swaddled like babies in layers of clothes. A long sleeve, whatever t-shirt, thin jacket with a thicker one over it, extra layers of socks. Whatever could spare them of the harsh winter of the country.

Their all huddled in a position to try and conserve warmth. Except for Price who insist that “It’s not that cold” and to “Get over it already”. But they can all see his subtle shake in his crossed arms pose.

“You got a heat pack or something?” Gaz asked, cupping his hands over his mouth, hoping to get some warmth from his breath. Seeing Shark’s still and relaxed figure like this weather was nothing. Gaz was hoping that they’d had an extra one and could toss one to him.

“No?” They shook their head and began to look around. Kicking snow to kill time when they hear their captain speak to a local about directions.

“Jesus, fuck. How are you not freezing you’re arse off?” Soap asks, pulling the collar of his jacket higher to cover more of his neck. Shark just shrugs. They really don’t know how. It just didn’t bother them as much. It was sorta cool since it fit their name, sharks can change their body temp to a certain range to adapt to their surroundings.

Gaz wasn’t even thinking, just desperate for warmth. Taking his chances for even a bit of comfort, he stood closer to your side, leaning on you with his cheek to your temple. Once he felt the small relief from the sudden cold, he leaned in more, covering more body surface. Relaxing, the more he did the more toasty he started to feel.

“Ahh-” Gaz sighed silently, Shark patted his back to further comfort him. Soap and Ghost looked at the two, who looked like a couple trying to keep themselves warm as an excuse to cuddle in public, then back at each other, silently questioning what to do or say, or if they should.

Soap shrugged and did the same to your other side, sighing in relief when the harsh and tight coldness of the snow felt like ice cream melting in the sun when he felt Shark’s body heat. Shark didn’t move but just shifted their eyes to see him. Couldn’t do anything but accept their fate.

Ghost is naturally a cranky and grumpy guy already and chilly, an understatement, atmosphere didn’t simmer him down a bit. He didn’t even try to fight it or reason with his thoughts and subsided. Wrapping his arms around their middle and resting his chin on the top of their head. Sighing when he felt his comrade’s warm back defrost him (hehe). Sighing for them was like the unconscious ‘ding’ to the microwave when your food finishes heating up.

Shark can’t really move even if they wanted to. Plus who wouldn’t wanna be sandwiched between three beefy guys?

“A’ight team. It shouldn’t be too far from here—” Price cut himself off, seeing his soldiers surround one like an overstuffed burrito. He crossed his arms, not registering that they were using Shark for warmth and just randomly decided to simultaneously bear hug them at the same time. Even Simon was joining in.

“Wha— Why?— What’s happening?” Price chuckled slightly, more out of confusion than amusement, crossing his arms once again with the subtle shake from the natural instinct of his body to find energy for heat.

“Warm” Only thing that Soap says, short but filling explanation. Causing Price to chuckle even more. Shark brings their hands forward, offering a fraction of their warmth to their captain, since it’s really the only thing that’s not occupied. Price holds their hands, at first to humor them, once he felt how unusually warm their hands are at this weather. He unconsciously lifted their hands up to his face, toasty palms pressed up against his cheeks.

—

“Fuckin’ hell” Price whispered under his breath before thanking the citizen for her time and cooperation, grumbling about the lead being a dead end. Price calls out for his teammates, signaling to continue on.

“Back to bloody square one” Soap grumbled, cranky from all the running around they had to do to catch one guy.

Both Price and Gaz immediately reached for your hand. At this point they didn’t even care, or notice what they were doing. It was just a natural instinct to swarm towards anything slightly warmer. Shark didn’t mind though, swinging their hands as they walked.

Two girls walking past them. Having to do a double take when they see the three. Before looking at each other wordless message of ‘How lucky!’.

—

During the cramped car ride, both Soap and Ghost had their heads resting on Shark. Soap resting his head on their shoulder, having to slump down slightly, while Ghost rested his temple on the top of their head. Both soldiers clinging onto and hugging on their arm for more cozy protection.

—

As Shark, Gaz, and Price watched and waited Soap and Ghost from across the building. They finally got a lead on the perp but if they all went in at once it would seem suspicious. They all watched intently, Gaz starting to get more bored.

Price unconsciously wrapping his arm around Shark, pressing them close to keep himself warm, resting his head on theirs as he got bored too. Shark figured out a while ago not to be too bothered with how clingy their being, figuring out that their just a human heater for them.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod men #task 141 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #soap mw2 #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #gaz mw2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #price mw2 #price x reader #john price #ghost headcanons #soap headcanons #gaz headcanons #price headcanons #task force 141 #task force 141 shark #cod headcanons #cod x reader #cod men head cannons #cod men headcannons #men :)

[dadsbongos]

CAN U PLSSSS WRITE A CUTE DENJI FIC OR HEADCANON/DRABBLE?? honestly idrc care which it is (obvi longer is preferred but i understand and am open to whatevs u give)

like about reader (fem) has a journal and in it she wrote about her dream dude, but like perfectly described denji and accidentally left it out and while they were hanging out or something cuz they besties he sees it and realized like "dude, that's me!" or something and then like a fluffy confession or something IDK that's just what i have sprinting through my brain rn 🤓

also maybe a lil kiss 🙏

thank you for giving me a denji idea... been fiending to write for him and just had 0 ideas

word count - 1.5 K / warnings - fem reader, not proofread!!, au where makima dies and denji just gets to be happy with special division 4 and they are familycore

~~~

“And the point of this is…?”

“I dunno,” Himeno answers honestly, shrugging, “I read somewhere that you can tell a lot about someone from their partner.”

“None of us are dating,” Aki huffs, fingers itching over the protrusion of his lighter in his pocket.

“Their preference in a partner,” Himeno groans in annoyance, gesturing out to the collection of papers in front of each of you, “Besides, what else do we have to do right now?”

Fair question, no matter how junky the science behind Himeno's apparent reading, not one of you had anything better to do. A storm was raging outside the Hayakawa apartment, all of Special Division Four having pooled there before the clouds even rolled in. Before Kobeni could shyly crawl out from the rambunctious crowd, there was lightning and thunder and an ear-piercing flood warning blasting on the television. 

So, Aki swallows the rest of his complaints and puts his head down with the rest of your division. His pencil sprawling over the paper Himeno slammed in front of him to describe his ideal significant other. A tedious task he's all too eager to bullshit through as soon as Himeno is finished staring down at him.

Denji is tapping the eraser of his pencil against the kitchen island, eyes straying around the living room. He worried his bottom lip between knifepoint teeth; only stopping when he tastes iron. Even Power has started writing.

Even you have begun writing. He wonders what you're writing. He wishes he could stretch his neck and take a peek without being obvious. He wishes he could read it at all.

Denji draws a stick figure that takes up a quarter of the page, dragging the lead back over the chest to add breasts. He glances at you through the side of his eye before adding hair and a small smile. And the black hair tie snug around your wrist even though he's only ever seen you lend it to Kobeni and Angel. Now he really can't avoid it: Denji has no idea how to write. 

Hopefully he can just coast with a bland drawing and let everybody think he's as shallow as they probably already believe. But when he lifts his head to glimpse at everyone else's pages, Himeno is already freezing him solid with her icy glare. Denji tucks his chin to his chest and subtly twists in the island stool to look at your paper again. 

Bullet points go five lines down the page; and the only thing he can make out is one of the few characters Aki’s taught Denji at his request:

愚か. Stupid.

Denji's eyes bounce back up to your face, eyes a little gooey and smile all soft. He knows that goofy look well, it's how he finds himself everytime he thinks about you. Before he can lose himself in that, he's jealous. You're making that lovestruck face over some stupid guy that Denji can't even write a strongly worded letter to. 

Denji writes one of the other few things Aki has taught him. Your name with a bold arrow pointing down at the stick figure. 

Then he erases it. He scrubs the pink bud over your name so hard he tears the paper in half. A loud shirrr dragging every eye to his hunched form, shoulders hiking higher over his face at the increased attention.

“Hark! The fool cannot even spell!” Power cackles, “Show me his words! Show me his mistake!”

“Power,” you chide, as though she's a fitful toddler and not a horrific Fiend, “Be nice. You can't write either.”

“Liar!” she points at you with a shaking finger.

Kobeni shyly taps Power on the shoulder before pointing at the paper overflowing with Power's manic ideals of a partner, “Anything else…?”

“Honesty!” she glares at you sharply, “And unwavering devotion!”

“Right…” Kobeni mutters unsurely, neglecting her own paper as she continues to scribble on Power's.

“Ignore her,” you scoot your stool closer to Denji and he manages to flip his page over before you can see the drawing, “Do you need help?”

He’s nodding before his mouth can even pop open, eventually he manages to sputter alongside it, “Yeah, yeah!” taking full advantage of his new opportunity to squish right against you at the island, “Can you write…”

Patiently, you await his request and he can feel his heart pumping in his throat every time you bat your lashes at him all sweetly. Your pen leaves jet black dots as it dips in your weak grasp, Denji has lots of words to describe you and all of them knot together on the tip of his tongue, tangled and lashing to fall from his lips at once.

Ultimately, he settles for the least descriptive, “Nice.”

“Someone nice,” you nod and scratch that onto his paper, “I like that.”

Denji feels his whole body go junky with sparks of electricity, blood boiling hot at how you feel comfortable enough to drag your paper into his full view. You point at your top bullet point, nail tacking loudly into the surface when his eyes don’t immediately stray from your face to the words below. Your bottom lip is sucked between your teeth as you study his reaction, leaning your face even closer to his.

Though you’re blurry and jumbled in his peripherals, Denji can still make out the upturn of your lips. He looks over the rest of the page, desperately searching for any other words he can make out and mold himself to. That, or cope and make up some ways in which he’s at least comparable to your dream man.

He can make out: Pretty.

Do you think Denji is pretty?

He sees another one he recognizes: 歯 -- teeth -- but there’s two characters before that he’s useless against. 

Denji has teeth.

“Sharp,” you whisper into his ear, tingles raising along his pale flesh.

“Huh…?” Denji turns to look at you, heat rising far up to his ears.

An airy, almost delirious, giggle floats into his ears as you circle the two mysteries before teeth, “Sharp,” then you circle teeth, “Teeth. Sharp teeth.”

“You like guys with sharp teeth?”

“Love ‘em.”

Denji swallows harshly, shakily pointing to the next bullet point, “What’s that mean?”

農民を尊重する.

You press ever closer towards Denji, leaning your chin on his shoulder, “‘Respects farmers.’”

“I respect farmers…” he mutters dumbly, “I love their work.”

“I know you do.”

Denji blinks down at you, his thick lashes beating on his rosying cheeks and spiky teeth punching back into his lip. His breaths are short and hard, red overtaking his cheeks like a flustered little Kewpie doll. So precious and sweet, ready to crack beneath your palms. He’d trust you wholly, and you know you’d treat him well. He knows, too. You’re nice.

You laugh at his stunned face, posture rigid. The sudden shock making his shoulder jab up into your jaw uncomfortably -- you find it terribly charming. 

“I like girls…” Denji sighs out in a tremble, eyes trailing down your face, “I like girls with soft lips.”

“Do you?” you inch closer, by now long forgetting the presence of your friends and colleagues in the apartment. Teasing is fun, but teasing Denji is just the best.

“Mhm.”

.

.

.

After an awkward pause, Denji follows the quiet hum with,

“Can I… kiss you?”

You nod against his shoulder, chin digging down into the bone. Denji stretches his neck to kiss you -- and your lips are even softer and more sugary than he imagined. His hands scratch out to cradle you to himself, continuously parched no matter how much of you he has to drink in. Warm hands and arms around you, clinging and wrapping and pulling. Wincing from the prickle of Denji’s teeth against your lip, you cinch a hand around the chest of his shirt and wrench it towards you -- pulling Denji closer along with it. 

“You like me?” he utters against your lips.

Pulling back, you flip around your paper and sear your index nail around a very recognizable word, “My ideal partner. I was a little scared to share at first…”

Denji almost jumps right off the stool, ready to coop you in his arms and swing you around fully in front of his roommates and coworkers. Instead he laughs in full disbelief to himself, reaching down to squeeze your other hand in both of his. You’re briefly concerned he’s cutting off blood flow before the joy of his pure excitement overtakes that concern. 

DENJI is big and plain over the very top of the page. 

“What changed your mind?”

You snicker right into his ear and reach out to flip over Denji’s paper, torn at the top, “I could tell you felt the same, pretty boy.”

Denji squeezes your hand even tighter, giggling almost feverishly before he’s sliding off the stool, “Wanna go make out in my room?”

“Thanks for having the decency to move now,” an unpleasant sneer breaks Denji’s cloudy dream-turned-reality.

“Fuck you,” Denji hisses at Aki.

“I think it’s cute!” Himeno pushes at the back of Aki’s head, “Focus on yourself!”

You let Denji drag you from the kitchen island and towards his (and Power’s, not that she’ll be allowed in for the next however many hours) room. 

“So, you really think ‘m pretty?” Denji’s voice teeters just on the edge of snarky, but his skittish, red frame speaks louder.

“Prettiest,” you coo, kissing his cheek.

The affection has him seconds away from blurting out an awkward, ill-timed: You’re really my dream girl.

#denji x reader #denji fluff #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #denji x you #denji x fem reader

[gwenstacyluver]

Better be fucking prepared cause I’ve been waiting since 2021

can You do Gwen Stacy x Mute!FemaleReader and Gwen hears Reader speak for the first time and she gets excited because Hobie +the group have been trying to make her talk for months

G: hey do you think this dress fits me? (Or suit, your choice)

R out of nowhere: You look good In everything

G: really? Because I- WAITADAMNMINUTE :0

Not good at Explaining since I’m not used to asking requests and finally decide to pull out my whole ass list and ask, Anyway Hope you doing well and have a good day/night!!! <3

(≧◡≦) ♡ FOR THE FIRST TIME

summary: while out on a shopping spree gwen looks so beautiful you just have to say something

pairing: gwen stacy x mute! fem reader

a/n: bai I have like 7 drafts already but this was too cute.. 😑

_______________________________________________

[NAME] AND GWEN’S RELATIONSHIP WAS…

confusing to say the least, the two girls had been in a situation-ship for months, and within those months [name] hadn’t uttered a single word, talking with little sticky notes to be able to maintain conversation with those around her, gwen was the only one she ever felt herself becoming more comfortable around.. more comfortable to talk..

_______________________________________________

the first few weeks of their relationship, gwen tried to get her girlfriend who wasn’t her girlfriend yet to speak to her and her friends, the group joining in now and again to find something that [name] was passionate about to get her to speak, but that never worked. their hard work wouldn’t go to waste, it just made the young girl feel even more comfortable around them. she knew they just.. wanted to hear her more, wanted her to be included in conversation more than she was.. she could only write so fas-

“ does this look cute?” gwen’s question pulled [name] out of her thoughts, the girl looked up and saw gwen holding up a pink dress, it matched the tips of her hair, and it was a few inches off the ground, [name] nodded her head; she could feel the nerves settling in as she imagined how it would look on her girlfriend.

gwen gave a shy smile, and then looked back at the dress. “ ima try it on… see if it looks as cute as I think it does in my head.” her voice was soft, as she threw the dress over her arm, and used her free one to wrap around [name]’s waist “ c’mon.. come with me.” she nodded her head in the way to the dressing rooms.

the short walk there was quick.. and quiet, just the way they liked, the long silence was less awkward now and more comfortable as the months had gone on.

[name] smiled, as she looked over at gwen.. as the two made their way to the dressing room, gwen’s arm dropped from the other girl’s waist. pointing at the nearest dressing room, “ I’ll be in here.. knock on the door if you need me.” she spoke, her wording having become more adjusted to not make her girlfriend feel bad about not talking.

“ shout if you need me “ turned into “ text me if you need me” or “ knock if you need anything.” it put a smile on the young girl’s face knowing gwen had adjusted her vocabulary for her

[name] nodded her head, holding a thumbs up, the two stared at each other for a moment.. just mesmerized, before gwen broke eye contact first, her cheeks red as she pointed at the dressing room again “ I…yeah.” she awkwardly spoke as she walked towards the small room, and closed the door, she stared at the door as she waited for her girlfriend to come back.

her back was against the wall that was across the room, as she pulled out her phone, going to her camera to make sure her afro wasn’t a mess, making sure her makeup was still okay and that her lashes weren’t lifting, but when she heard the door open her gaze was shifted to look at gwen, who now had an awkward smile on her face, holding she held her arms behind her back as she wore the dress.. she looked gorgeous

the first thing [name] could say was

“ wow..” her tone soft and full of emotion

the word caught gwen completely off guard, her eyes looking at her girlfriend in shock and confusion as she heard her voice for the first time

“ wha..” was the only thing she could get out, but [name] kept going “ you are so…just… gorgeous “

that made gwen stop and blush, [name] looked over her girlfriend, still just absolutely smitten by how beautiful she looked, she placed her phone back in her pocket of her skirt and walked towards gwen.

“ can.. can I kiss you..?” she was on a talking streak now, this was the longest she’s ever communicated with someone outside of immediate family where she was borderline forced into communication.

“ yeah..” gwen’s face was now a deep red, as she looked at her girlfriend, a grin plastered on her face.. she didn’t mention her verbal words at all..she would’ve, but she completely forgot [name] was non verbal when that question processed through her brain.

[name] smiled, as she leaned in, her eyes closing, gwen stayed where she was, closing her own eyes and puckering up her lips.

the kiss was soft, gentle but full of emotion and the love the two girls shared for one another, she loved it..

she loved her

#gwen stacy x reader #atsv gwen #gwen stacy x y/n #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy #gwen stacy x fem!reader #x black fem reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x gwen stacy #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x reader #spiderman #into the spider verse #x black reader #gwen Stacy x black reader

[kisscara]

may i request a fic of scara being a domestic bf for reader?? like super the way of the househusband type of domestic :0 if thats ok w u??

househusband in training ★ [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ fluff, modern au, college au

a/n: HIHI this idea is soso cute mima and ty 4 requesting! i love myself some domestic bf scara.. ( ´ ω ` )

when your boyfriend of two years moved in with you in a small but comfy apartment, you surely hadn't taken him for the type to do everything around the house. scaramouche has always had the ability to get quickly tempered, but you didn't know that that would apply to chores as well.

after a month or two, you got used to his constant nagging that always fixated on the dishes in the sink and the state of the bedroom. the thing is, he never makes you do it. "tsk, there's a spoon in the sink, (name). you know how i want the sink to be empty at all times," he would say, all the while putting on his rubber gloves and apron.

you peek from the doorframe of the kitchen. "it's a single spoon, scara. plus, i'll do it if-" he stops you short with a raise of the hand. "no, no. that won't be necessary." and the conversation ends there, or so he thought. you muse, "hm, i've been thinking about something for awhile."

scaramouche doesn't look up from his work as he scrubs the spoon with a soapy sponge, "yeah?" as he reaches forward to open the faucet, you add, "you're kind of like my little househusband in training." you pause when you hear the clatter of the spoon. scaramouche slowly turns to face you, "what did you say."

you laugh, amused by his reaction. "i mean, you kind of got the part down." scaramouche takes off his gloves and apron to make his way to you in a few strides. he holds your face in one hand, squishing your pudgy cheeks with his lithe fingers. "if i'm to be the househusband, that means you have to play the role of my spouse, no?"

scaramouche also takes care of things like meals. unlike his mother, who could blow up the entire world if she even touched the buttons of the stove, he's fairly good at cooking. breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it. he'll be calling you from the kitchen to come and eat and you'll be greeted with a table full of meals.

once in a while, he'll let you help him. he prefers it whenever you take a part in baking rather than cooking, since it's less dangerous, in a way. speaking of your well-being, scaramouche always checks up on you, possibly more than your own parents do.

whenever he feels as if you've been studying too long, he'll pry you away from your screen to spend time with him. "c'mon, i'm more fun than words on a screen." he'd say, cuddling with you on the couch in the living room. feeling overwhelmed? scaramouche is your go-to guy.

he'll turn off the lights, only leaving the television set as the two of you snuggle beneath the blankets. scaramouche comfortingly strokes your hair and whispers endearments, your head resting in his lap as he soothes all of your worries away.

and even though scaramouche manages most of the house chores, he somehow is able to balance his college life as well. he wears reading glasses whenever he studies but he finds that he focuses better when he does it with you. he'll pretend that he doesn't know an easy question and makes you help him out from that point.

every night is spent with him in your arms or you in his, words of affection exchanged and kisses shared before the sleepiness gets to you two. scaramouche can be mean sometimes, but he's big on being soft when it comes to you. it's almost like his lips are made for yours, considering the way they perfectly slot against your lips is heavenly.

in the morning, he'll be awakened by you peppering kisses all over his face and clinging onto him like a koala to a tree. that is, if you wake up before him. every other morning, you'll rise to the smell of freshly cooked food. though the point is, scaramouche is the ideal domestic boyfriend and maybe even a househusband... ♡

© kisscara

#📼 — 𝓦.𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. #✎﹏ 𝐦ima #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #genshin imagines #genshin imagine #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfics #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfictions #scaramouche #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff

[fortheb0ys]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLYeA8Kt/

Okay okay okay

Pet play with Jeff vs Graves would be soo fun to see

Jeff only really gets rough if provoked, feels awful after usually unless it's sex. Then he's probably pretty satisfied, but even then he's really not that rough. Really gotta work him up to being rough, let him blow some steam in a safe environment where he won't be afraid to be "bad."

He has his moments, overwhelmed and probably panicked, especially after Shauna and her "book club." But he's not inherently a bad dog. He's a good boy, just needy and clingy, probably a bit insecure and wary around people.

That biting issue isn't awful after being with him for awhile, probably actually able to train him over Shauna. But sometimes he'll bite if something feels too good or he's frightened, but I can't imagine putting him in his kennel again over it. They're accidents, lost in his head like last time and everyone's learning from it

Graves?

Rough and mean for the hell of it. Is not satisfied by slow sappy shit unless you really work him in, or his day was genuinely terrible. But usually? Graves is wrestling and probably straight up sparring with you for dominance that he doesn't want.

Bites bites bites all the time. You look like you were thrown to the wolves after leaving a session with Graves, cannot train this out of him. It's his god given right as a puppy. Fuck him with a dildo with a knot? It's soo over for him. Eyes rolled back and drooling everywhere. 0 thoughts in this pups brain, literally none at all as he's shooting blanks over and over again.

He's bratty, mouthy. Loves to tease and be pampered. Stressed at work? Scratch behind his ears and coo at him and he's melting away, itching for that weight of a collar around his neck.

Anyways 😭 idk if any of that makes sense but you get to have my rambles anyways!

-🥭

AHHHH I WANNA DIG A HOLE IN YOUR SKULL TO LIVE IN YOUR BRAIN AND EAT YOUR THOUGHTS!! THIS SO PERFECT😭 This is fucking perfect! I'm so sorry if none of this makes sense.

Jeff is gentle natured. Only ever violent when really pushed in a corner or someone's threatening people dear to him. He's definitely not in control of his mouth when he experiences any overwhelming emotions. He would bite his lip, the inside of his mouth or tongue and not realize. He'd start panicing or whine when he taste blood.

He just doesn't like to be treated rough at all. Rough means punishment. He needs reassurance that he's not a bad boy and that no one's mad at him.

I feel like Jeff gets let off the handle more than he should. Don't want to push him and break his trust. He's, for the most part, well behaved. If he does something wrong he's most likely going to beg for forgiveness before he could get reprimanded.

His kennel isn't really for punishment. It's more of a safe space for him. Just plushies and throw blanket. It's only ever punishment if the cage is closed.

He likes everything soft and sweet, especially nicknames. Cute one like buddy, puppy, pumpkin, etc. He loves to be spoiled. Kisses and praises more the material things.

Shauna lets him stay at your place some weekends and as much as he loves spending time with you Jeff questions why Shauna doesn't love him anymore. He definitely soooooo fucking clingy. The type of dog to wait outside the bathroom door.

Shauna probably wouldn't have much patience with training him. Would give up quickly or scold him a little too hard. Gentleness is key in reinforcing Jeff's good behavior.

Graves gives the vibe of one of those pitbulls named 'Cupcake' or 'Princess'. He can be sweet but violence is in his nature. I think he reacts violently because that's how he was treated. He's violent with both play and sex. He'll violent rip apart toys and goes through them so easily. Old wounds can never heal properly cause he just bites over them (I have a fic talking about this actually).

Graves thinks if he does his mission he'll get rewarded but is let down constantly by Shepherd. He'll finish his mission and all Shepherd gives him is a cold pat on the back and his paycheck.

Yes, Graves loves the money but he craves to be praised both cause of his ego and his deep need to be wanted. If someone wants him, they pay.

Shepherd calls him a dog with a bone. He'd somehow learn of Graves' puppy play. Use it against him and for sometime Graves let him. He's loyal to the ones he's close with and it took alot to break that trust. But seeing his men, the ones he views as a pack, die made him snap.

So now with a new 'handler' he's never going to be fully trusting. He gave it away and it backfired.

I think Graves bite more so to show ownership. Yes, he has violent tendencies but he like to see markings. It's way of him keeping some level of control. Plus he just genuinely like to do it.

Graves accept no punishment. If boundaries are crossed or his actions too severe, just go quiet for a few days to scare him. He'll think he'll be abandon and will crawl back. It's a bit cruel but it's the only thing that works.

He has money so spoiling him with gifts isn't going to win any favor. He just wants someone to 'play' with. Honestly he'd probably pay. Of course, most of the paycheck is hush money.

Graves requires a lot of energy burning activity aka sex when in his head space. He's a busy man and doesn't get to relax often. I can imagine his has those heavy chain collar. Chain him somewhere and get him to fuck himself on a knotted dildo while trying to finish work than fuck him for hours after.

#idk if my writing coherent here #i just throw all my thoughts together #god i just love the two of them #☆*cj's inbox 📥 #☆*anon asks #☆*🥭 #phillip graves x male reader #phillip graves x reader #call of duty x male reader #dom male reader #sub character #jeff sadecki x male reader #jeff sadecki x reader #jeff sadecki #phillip graves

[beebotea]

☁️ ˖⁺ thinking of bodyguard!xiao

pairing: xiao x gn!reader genre: fluff tropes: bodyguard!au, strangers to employer/employee to friends, falling in love cw: minor violence, minor catcalling i.e.: bodyguard!xiao headcanons

bodyguard!xiao who has been working for your family for two years as your personal bodyguard

bodyguard!xiao who follows orders without question

bodyguard!xiao who at first barely spoke and disliked small talk

bodyguard!xiao who glares at the creepy people eyeing you from across the street

bodyguard!xiao who stepped in when someone continued hitting on you at the bar despite your initial rejections

bodyguard!xiao who ended up giving the person a broken nose when they didn’t stop harassing you

bodyguard!xiao who pulled you away to a safer and quieter corner to check if you were unharmed, undrugged, and sober

bodyguard!xiao who personally drove you home and apologized for leaving you alone at the bar to go the washroom

bodyguard!xiao who vowed to keep you safe from then on

bodyguard!xiao who started to observe you more and learn your body language to decipher how you felt

bodyguard!xiao who started to dedicate so much of his time into learning what makes you comfortable and what makes you uncomfortable that it’s become almost an obsession

bodyguard!xiao who has become so infatuated with your safety that it’s all he can think about

bodyguard!xiao who reasons that his heightened heart rate, blushing cheeks, and unknowing smile when he sees you are all because he’s grown passionate about his work and nothing more

bodyguard!xiao who stares at you in your pretty outfit when you walk out of the store fitting room

bodyguard!xiao who gets irritated when he hears the teenage boys whistling at you from behind him as he waits

bodyguard!xiao who secretly wishes that only he could be the one to see how pretty you always look

bodyguard!xiao who has begun the habit of escorting you into the car with his hand on your waist

bodyguard!xiao who now always seems to have his hand on either your back or shoulder when out in public

bodyguard!xiao who feels like he’s losing his mind when you call his name

bodyguard!xiao who gives you his undivided attention when you cry or rant to him about your problems

bodyguard!xiao who tries to comfort you by gently patting your head and rubbing your back because he doesn’t know what to say to make you feel better

bodyguard!xiao who wants to talk to you more freely but always gets too tongue-tied

bodyguard!xiao who is forced to watch shows and movies with you at home when you don’t want to go out

bodyguard!xiao who secretly imagines the two of you being the main characters of the romance movie you’re watching instead of the actors on screen

bodyguard!xiao who gets giddy as he thinks about what it would be like to have a romantic walk with you at the park, hand in hand, as he lies in bed at night

bodyguard!xiao who decides that he wants to continue to protect you and be by your side long after his contract with your parents end

bodyguard!xiao who finally realizes that he’s madly in love with you

a/n: mmm xiao <3 so like originally i was gonna practice writing a smut one shot for this one but then I ended up just making it cute :0 bodyguard to boyfriend pipeline goes hard. i'll probably write the og idea eventually... also requests are open! (and ill get back to the xiao smau eventually)

#beebotea*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ writes #genshin #genshin impact #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x you #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons

[guava-enjoyer]

Inazuma School AU Headcanons!

Featuring: Itto and Ayato (separately)

Summary: What are Inazuman characters like in school...as your lover!

Genre: fluff, crack

Warnings: implied fem!reader, inconsistent captalization, probably ooc because I haven't played in so long 😭, bad music taste

A/N: HELP this is my first time actually writing (finishing) a fanfic!!! If you happen to be reading this for whatever reason, just know that I take requests! I write for genshin and bsd right now. no smut!!! only fluff!!!

Arataki Itto

where do i even start 😭

all the teachers HATE him because he never shuts up 💀

we all know that he is just naturally a menace (he's actually sweet i swear)

Itto is definitely playing a sport because he's so competitive. he's SUPER tall, so I'd say he's great at basketball. idk let your imagination run wild 😍

he'd blow a kiss to you every time he scores. its embarrassing, but you love him so it's okay.

i have two words: touchy-feely

he LOVES having an arm over your shoulder.

gives you questionable pet names

"hi my little sugar munchkin pookie bear 😘"

...ANYWAYS, he would definitely beetle fight you and gets salty after you obliterate him

"IMPOSSIBLE" *table flip*

okay enough silly i need to focus

he would listen to chill rock music. he'll give you an earbud and just chill with you, especially after his basketball practice or games

he would be failing all of his classes if it wasn't for you forcing him to study. he also needs decent grades to stay on the sports team so

"so, if you just subtract x here- are you even listening?????"

"huh?" *smack* "OW"

0/10 worst student

if you hang out with the Arataki Gang, even better! when you all eat lunch together, it can be chill

OR it can be pure chaos

"GIVE ME BACK MY POTATO CHIPS"

"NUH-UH"

y'all would definitely make fun of people. i can just imagine Itto ranting about how "Kujou KFC Sara" was being a bastard

"that stupid chicken thinks she's stronger than me!" (she is)

ok so far i've portrayed him as a menace but deep down he's a kind lil' muffin

he always makes sure you're not upset with his jokes, he would even offer you some of his lunch if you look sad!

he would go to energetic atmospheres for dates. to be honest, any atmosphere is energetic the moment he walks in.

ok but he would absolutely LOVE going to theme parks with you. he'd go on roller coasters with you and scream through the whole thing

if you don't like roller coasters, that's okay! he's still drag you around to do literally everything else in the theme park.

overall 7/10 chaotic but loveable

Kamisato Ayato

(i have no idea what song suits him 😭)

he's like the rich and talented kid

he shows up to school in this really fancy car with a chauffeur and shit

straight A student, gifted, yk the whole package

Let's assume that he is the President of student government or council or whatever because... its Ayato what do you expect

teachers absolutely ADORE him

he'd definitely tutor you if you needed it but don't expect him to be a ray of sunshine

he loves you, but that only makes him even more insufferable 🥰

but like actually, he'd be so sweet. he's the kind of guy to bask in the little things.

i bet his love language is quality time. just being around you makes him melt internally

expect quiet dates. studying, libraries, cafes, etc. he LOVES THEM

he probably isn't big on PDA but still loves holding your hand. when you're alone, he loves having an arm around you. he just finds so much comfort in you <33

He also shows his love through nonstop teasing. It's a blessing and a curse.

"oh, aren't you cute today~"

right after you tripped and spilled coffee (or whatever else) all over yourself 😐

at least he gets you out of trouble 🤷‍♀️

he would also buy you expensive stuff. he's rich, remember?

like randomly he'll just walk up to you with designer jewelry or something

"...how much did this cost?"

"don't worry about it 😇"

and don't even try turning it down. he will find a way.

aside from all that, he definitely eats lunch in the library with you and/or Thoma and Ayaka

he'll force you to try his terrible food combinations 😭

"c'mon, just one bite. please?"

"...are you trying to poison me?"

he's not much of a sport person. with his upbringing, he might play an instrument. pianist Ayato anyone?? 😍

you'd just find him in the music room playing Chopin (I think he'd love Nocturne in E flat, its SO ROMANTIC. go listen to it, trust me)

compliment his music skills, it'll put him in a good mood for the day.

I give him an 8.5/10. A gentlemanly smartass.

thanks for reading!! feedback is welcome!

have a good day :D

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #itto x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #arataki itto #itto #genshin ayato #fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader #idk what tags to put

[kkumawrites]

Here Kitty, Kitty ― Chapter Four CW: food mentions WC: 1.3k

You were sitting in the campus quad, flipping through your chemistry book before class, going over some notes when someone slips into the seat next to you. You furrow your eyebrows and turn to look over, knowing already it was one of the werewolf brothers. He’s already looking at you with a small smirk on his face and all you do is blink at him, questioning why he was suddenly here, sitting next to you. 

“Hey, I’m Junhui. It’s nice to meet you, I think you’ve met some of my brothers?” He asks with a quick flip of his hair and he moves his arm so it’s casually hanging off the bench behind you.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I could tell. You reek the same as them,” A lie, but he didn’t have to know that. His scent was muskier, a hint of something tangy underneath like citrus and it makes your mouth water for just a second.

You introduce yourself nonchalantly, trying to push down the immediate pull you feel towards him, still vehemently denying the attraction you felt for any of them. Jun scoots a little closer to you and the grip you have on your textbook becomes tighter, your heart beating faster as his scent wraps around you. He still has a smirk on his face and you so badly want to wipe it off his face, preferably with your lips. Wait. No. God damnit, can the pull just leave you alone for ONE second? 

“Why do you look so nervous? Sorry, am I too handsome?” The comment pushes you back to your senses as you roll your eyes at the wolf, closing your textbook and pushing it into your bag before moving to stand up. 

“Careful there, wouldn’t want someone to deflate that ego of yours darling,” A cat-like grin appears on your face as you start to walk away, giving him a small wave goodbye. “See you around, Jun,” The way you say his name sends shivers down his spine and all he can do is watch you walk away with awe.

You:  1 Wolves: 0 ────── 〔✿〕────── 

When you arrive at your chemistry class your headache only grows as you notice the only open seat left is next to yet another brother, one you haven’t met yet. You’re not 100% sure how many there are, but you know that there are far too many of them - never able to escape their scent that’s all over campus, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, you’re not too bothered about it. 

You make your way to your seat, trying to sit as far away from him as possible, totally not checking out the pretty boy with perfect complexion and a stupidly cute smile on his face. Instead you try to keep your focus on the professor even though it’s hard when you know he’s staring straight at you with no shame. He’s got longer hair and honestly, prettier than a lot of the girls you’ve seen around campus - his scent is woodsy and warm, with a hint of something sweet, like roasting smores by a campfire. 

“Alright, I sure hope you like who you’re sitting next to, because they’re gonna be your lab partner for the semester,” Your professor’s monotone voice cuts through the classroom and at his words you let out a small sigh of defeat, turning to face the brother you haven’t met yet. He’s got a smile on his face, though it’s definitely more of a smirk, one that’s similar to the one on the brother you met earlier. 

“I’m Jeonghan. We haven’t been properly introduced,” He holds out his hand for you which you reluctantly take, ignoring the electricity that shoots down your spine at just a simple touch. 

You introduce yourself, adding on a quick “but I have a strange feeling that you already knew that,” at the end of your sentence. He responds with a small chuckle, the smirk on his face morphs into a more shy smile that you can’t help but think suited him much more. 

“Oops, caught red handed,” 

“Behave yourself, I don’t need your alpha getting mad at me again,” You shudder at the thought, really not wanting to even think about getting scolded by Seungcheol again - not sure if you’d survive another confrontation with the angry wolf. 

“Ah, don’t worry about cheol, he’s a little uptight,” 

Still, you grimace at the thought of being the source of his anger - not 100% sure why he even seemed to hate your guts already. Besides you know, perhaps goading him a little with the werewolf comment. 

Yeah, you definitely wanted to avoid Seungcheol at all costs. ────── 〔✿〕────── 

In order to avoid the chaos of the campus cafeteria (and perhaps a few certain werewolves) you had decided to eat outside for a change. A quick cursory glance around the open area, you spot a nice big tree that gives off some nice shade and it’s the perfect spot. When you walk a little closer your nose twitches slightly as you catch the scent of used books and espresso, enticing you further. Although you were supposed to be avoiding the brothers, the male in question seemed much more interested in his book than you, not even looking up when you came closer. So you decide there’s no harm in sitting here as you settle down on the roots of the enormous tree. 

His eyes dart up to meet yours and you can see the small ghost of a smile that makes you want to return the small gesture. You do your best to ignore him and the rising blush that threatens to color your cheeks just from having the attractive male glance in your direction. Surprisingly you’re able to maintain your cool composure as you eat your lunch in silence, scrolling idly on your phone. He takes the hint well, returning his attention back to the book but it still doesn’t stop him from stealing noticeable glances at your figure every once in a while. 

The silence is rather pleasant, a calm, content air between the two of you. His scent was starting to make your brain a little foggy, trying to resist the urge to just scoot a little closer to get a deeper whiff. The atmosphere makes you feel light, ready to get through the rest of your classes with little to no more annoyances.

It doesn’t last long when Mingyu insists on walking you home for no reason, following you around like a lost puppy. You definitely were not imagining the taller male with a wagging tail behind him as he trailed after you. You already knew Mingyu’s goal was to get more information out of you, but you expertly dodged questions and gave him vague answers that had him pouting and honestly more confused than he already was. 

When he had returned to the pack house, Seungcheol was less than pleased with his brother who continued to disobey his rules, having easily smelled you on the taller the moment he walked through the door. Seungcheol knew it was pointless though to scold the younger, who wasn’t even paying any attention to his alpha. Defeated, he had excused Mingyu (who immediately ran up to his room) and turned his attention to the window.

He could see Joshua sitting under the big tree in the front yard, something the calmer wolf enjoyed doing, so that in itself wasn’t unusual. What was strange was that he was currently sitting with a cat in his lap, a pristine white collar around its neck that contrasted starkly to its shiny black fur. Seungcheol could not think of a single time ANY of his brothers had shown any interest in cats, considering their dog-like nature.

He could feel the signs of a budding headache building in his temple, fingers coming to soothe at the tense skin of his forehead. 

What on earth was going on with his brothers?

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen imagine

[angxlofvenus]

hihi could i request something with the obey me characters with a mc that has a cat/their reactions to meeting their cat or just their pets in general?

Hi, Thank you so much for the request! As an owner to two cats myself, This was so much fun for me to write, I hope you have a great rest of your day/night :) Genre: Fluff ! Ship: The brothers/Side characters x reader (platonic Luke!) TW: cussing, Mentions of catnip, Eating catfood (Beel's section),

When You Own A Cat

Lucifer

Well, this won’t do.

He has a very strict pet policy in the HoL but for you…He may twist his words a little

Will act cordial with your cat just because he doesn’t want to upset you but like

Luci is a dog person through and through so this may be a bit of an inner struggle

Here's the thing though, I don’t think he has ever really been around a cat before

So when he starts to warm up to your furry friend…He kind of relates to the cat 😭

Listen, I think Lucifer acts a lot like a cat, Hard to get close to, Will act better than you, etc, etc

Once he and your cat get close though? They are two peas in a pod- He’ll let the cat snuggle up to him when he isn’t busy. 

Mammon

Ehhh, He isn’t too crazy either way about it, You got a cat, so what?

If y’all are dating, He’s gonna be a little clingy because he thinks the cat takes up too much of your attention in his opinion! 

Will definitely play with you’re cat though, no matter if he likes the animal or not, He finds your pet running after a laser/string hilarious!

May blame the cat for breaking things so that Lucifer doesn’t hang him from the ceiling…

Once he’s warmed up to your kitty though, They are thick as thieves

He will buy them any toy he thinks they’ll like, Will definitely buy some catnip (If you’re okay with it!) just for shits and giggles

Levi

A little skeptical at first,,, Of course you have such a normie pet!

In the beginning, He’s gonna be jealous (shocker, I know)

Can almost feel the envy coming off of him when your cat settles down in your lap

But when your cat starts to do the same things with him? Total 180°

He’s in Love! Will start watching cat-related animes and playing cat-related games

Will try to introduce them to Henry, Just don’t let them get too close…

Satan

un-HOLLLYYY SHHHIITTTT, Y’all, the moment you have been waiting for-

Minds running a mile a minute, Looks just excited on the outside, but on the inside? Oh, He.is.SCREAMING

Will ask every question there is to ask, Name, Age, birthday, breed, personality

He may just kind of…Pick the cat up and leave with them after their first interaction

Your cat will become the most spoiled being in the Devildom, Your cat shall never want anything ever again, Satan will get them everything they want, no matter how hard it is to obtain

Your kitty will kind of get roped into a bond with Satan whether they want to or not, But let’s be honest, Your cat’s gonna love him seeing as he would kill for them

Asmo

Awwwww, How cute!

As long as your cat doesn’t get into his stuff, They’ll also be instant besties

His camera roll really consists of 4 categories

Himself

You

Your cat

All three of y’all together

Will probably try to put your cat into some dumbass costume

Will buy your cat so many accessories, What do you mean they don’t need a bedazzled collar?! >:0

Snuggle buddies when you aren’t around, Yes, This does look as adorable as it sounds- 

Overall, He will love and pamper your cat all the time

Beel

Oh? You have a cat? That’s cool :) 

Loves to see how much joy they bring you, He loves seeing you happy no matter what

He has tried cat food before, both wet and dry and ain’t afraid to try it again…You should probably lock up the cat food just in case.

Will also play with your cat with like just some string, He thinks it’s cute :) 

Is honestly fascinated by your pet lowkey, He never knew how sleek most were! Is bamboozled by the whole, Landing-on-their-feet thing

They become friends pretty quickly I’d say, He makes sure to always be super gentle with them because he knows how much bigger he is than them (I am so mentally ill about him istg)

If your cat becomes interested in something he’s eating, He’ll give them a lil nibble (If it’s safe for that cat to consume ofc)

Buys a lil cat bed for his and Belphie's room, It stays at the foot of his bed 

Belphie

A cat? Ew, That sounds like responsibility

Indifferent at first, As long as he doesn’t have to really mess with it, He’s chill

But one day, He awakens abruptly (Unheard of) To your cat making biscuits on his cheek

Kiss your cat goodbye, It’s his now

Cuddle buddies, every day, all-day

Will put on those bird videos to play with your cat

The second brother I’m gonna say acts like a cat, He will literally catch himself mimicking the cat sometimes

They would so judge people together, Lucifer just entered the room their in? Side eye…

Diavolo

How sweet! He has zero qualms about your little friend

Another one that will buy pretty much everything for your cat, Y’all don’t even have to be close for him to do this, He just thinks of your cat as an extension of the exchange program, Therefor he buys them anything he thinks they need

Best of buddies when they get close to each other

Will some just walk around RAD with your kitty, Just showing them things, Will also ask for your cat's thoughts on laws in a kind of joking way, But he 100% will listen seriously if they decide to answer him with a meow

Barbatos

Doesn’t have a very strong opinion of your cat at first, He isn’t exactly a pet type of person seeing as he rarely has time for such things but in my humble opinion, I think most animals flock to this man like Snow White

Listen, This man is the definition altruistic person so I think Smaller creatures would find comfort in his presence, This is also why the Little D’s love him so much

Your cat will always look their best, Barb will trim their nails, take them to the vet, brush their fur and other things without you even having to ask

Once they become more acquainted, I can see him making some cat-safe baked treats for the kitty

Simeon

He thinks your cat is precious! Though at first will be worried about the small thing being in a place like the Devildom 

Him being an angel does change a few things, I think animals naturally flock to him as well just because of his angelic background so he and your cat are kind of just automatically BFF's 

He will always be up for loving on your cat, No matter how busy he is- He won’t ever turn down your kitty

Probably the first person you should ask to catsit, a close second being Barbatos

Solomon

They will be partners in crime even if your cat doesn’t want that

Don’t be surprised if he starts to refer to your cat as his ‘Furry apprentice’ instead of their actual name

Takes photos of your cat, but only when he finds them in a stupid position

Another contender to buy them some catnip and just watch them go crazy

Once they have warmed up to eachother, He is gonna torment this cat 24/7 almost

Luke

A cat and a chihuahua, Natural enemies!

Jkjk but not really…

He doesn’t like how stuck up a lot of cats are but he thinks your’s is pretty cute

Will ask Simeon how to pet them correctly and treat them well because he cares!

After the first few weeks he actually really warms up to your kitty

Will always ask how their doing like they are a person, no matter what.

Doesn’t admit it but he really adores your cat :(

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me x reader #self ship #ao3 #lucifer x reader #mammnon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obeymeluke #obey me headcanons #cat

[embodyingchaos]

Hiiiii can I request something fluff with abner krill like maybe dating headcanons ( Ik it’s pretty basic but I’m a sucker for them 😭) honestly anything that’s fluffy and cute lol

❥ hi there, darling! MY BABY ABNER KRILL AAAAAA ofc i can write dating hcs for THE polka-dot man! i hope you enjoy them! (I'M SORRY THAT THEY'RE SORTA LONG)

dating polka-dot man a.k.a abner krill headcanons warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, ptsd, a bit suggestive at the end HEHEH

OKAY OKAY SO, i would say that abner would definitely not be the one to ask you out first, and if he did, he would be a stuttering mess like “w-would y-you maybe think about.. going on a date?” and you’d be like oh yeah totally, with who? and then he’ll be like “with me” AND HE’D WHISPER IT REALLY SOFTLY AND YOU’D BE LIKE “OH- OH MY GOD YES” HEEHEH

and then every where you guys go for your dates, he would overthink every little thing, like did he pick the right place? did he order the right meal? do you like this kind of thing or should he have asked you where you wanna go and you’ll answer the same thing every time “anywhere is good enough as long as it’s with you” AND HE’D BE BEET RED LIKE BLUSHING CRAZY

abner would definitely be tense for the first few dates before slowly loosening up and relaxing, but even that will take a while

dating abner might be tiring at times, he constantly questions why you’re with someone like him, he’ll constantly be worried that you’ll leave him, but all in all, you’re willing to reassure him with words of affirmation

abner definitely calls you babe, or baby, or just by your name, he doesn’t strike me as a nick name type

though, if you call him any nickname like darling, sweetheart, my love, HE WILL MELT, BE IT IN YOUR ARMS OR ONTO THE FLOOR, HE’LL GET FLUSTERED AND HIDE HIS FACE IN ANY WAY AAAAAA

abner is definitely a little spoon, he feels safe and comfortable in your arms, and every time he’s having a panic attack or ptsd hits, the best way to calm him is to embrace him

he would get nightmares in the middle of the night about his mother abusing him all over again but it would be okay because you're there to hold him tight and tell him that she can't hurt him anymore

he would do the same for you if you had a nightmare or a troubling past, he wouldn't know what to say, but i'd feel like he'd memorise the things you say to him and then repeat them back to you, because he learned from the best ofc

i’d think he gets a little bit jealous, but he trusts you, but yk when insecurity hits, everything just gets a little foggy, he doesn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to be a nuisance but you can tell, you’d always kiss his cheek when you know he’s feeling a tad bit insecure and that brightens him up real quick

abner will protect you in any way he can, even if he knows he isn’t that physically strong to win in a fight, he’ll defend you and your honour any time

though usually it’s you who protects him by standing up to people who call him names or are rude to him, he has to calm you down and pull you away so you’d stop cussing at them

i am not including when he’s put in belle reve bc in my headcanons, he doesn’t get sent to prison for murdering his abusive and insane mother bc she definitely had it coming

I WOULD LIKE TO HEADCANON THAT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME YOU TRIED ON HIS POLKA-DOT MAN SUIT BECAUSE YOU WERE CURIOUS HOW IT WOULD LOOK ON YOU, and he walks in on you and he’s like :0 jaw-dropped, eyes wide open, and you’re like “oh you’re back! i wanted to see how your suit looked on me! i think i look pretty cooOOL-!” yeah, uh, you’re way too attractive for your own good, good luck for the night

#polka dot man #suicide squad 2 #abner krill #abner krill x reader #abner krill headcanons #abner krill oneshot #abner krill imagines #gender neutral #polka dot man x reader #polka dot man headcanons #suicide squad 2 headcanons #reader insert #dating headcanons #abner krill masterlist #polka dot man masterlist #david dastmalchian #david dastmalchian x reader #david dastmalchian masterlist

[sugar-glaze-donut]

you know what, fuck it

*proceeds to name every dating sim/ otome game I know*

(somewhat in alphabetical order + description with spoilers)

A date with death You get your soul targetted by a grim reaper, but you instead steal his soul and made him into your pookie wookie snookums <3 BTW you can get a pet in the game. Mine is a snake called Noodle :)

Blooming Panic it's Discord but with hot characters, a variety of side characters, a cute story, and Chat GBT but it's a sentient being. I think the last part spoiled one of the routes... oopsies :3

Bonely Hearts Club (Undertale AU Dating sim) They basically become your neighbour. The AUs in this are Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Swapfell!Indigo and Horrortale! {it's still in its demo stages but it is very well made!}

Error 143 you, an adorkable hacker (who is your rival and you're salty about it), cheesy Romeo and Juliet dream the MC has but it has a high school twist to it

I love you! You like asparagus. ...oh! You also have an option to make multiple boys fall in love with you. By the way, did you know the MC (you) loves asparagus? There are friendship routes, romance routes, and a bad ending except it's not bad. This game is the English translated version of the original game (The original game is in Japanese. The link for the original game is here --> ❤️)

Killer Trait You get accused of committing a murder, and you team up with a person who is a serial killer himself. (The serial killer in question only kills criminals so... I think you're safe...?) Your bear cream bun gets run over :( {The game is still in its demo stages. The creator of the game announced that this game will NOT be completed during 2024 since they are currently concentrating on a different game. DO NOT ASK THEM "Oh! But can't you just do this game first?". IT'S VERY ANNOYING, ESPECIALLY TO THE CREATOR}

KLEIN V.01 "Just Monika" but Yandere isn't named Monika, nor are they human. They are an AI. A fucking AI. Like bro, I understand it's hard to talk to people but really? An AI Boyfriend app that tells you to ruin your sleep schedule for him? An AI Boyfriend app that hacks your phone? An AI Boyfriend app that KILLS one of your family members and almost kills your neighbour??? RED FLAG. RED FLAGS EVERYWHERE {this game is in its demo stages. The creator is slowly updating this game in chapters, so it might take a while to finish}

Light the Way (Luxiem fangame) The game remembers what you did. All of the hearts you've broken, your sins, and your actions. There are lots of achievements, memes, Romance, friendship and BAD ROUTES. This time, the bad endings actually hurt. 0/10 would not recommend doing the bad routes unless you want to be stalked by an alter ego of Yamino Shu :(

Obey Me (Original and Nightbringer ver) Original - You become the therapist of many men with trauma and insecurities. The men in question are fucking demons that have the power to shred you into grated cheese, but they instead decide to simp over you as the story goes on. (also did I mention that you'll die? No? Oh fuck-) Nightbringer - A continuation (?) of the Original Obey Me but in a completely different universe. That's right! You slip into the past, way before the main story happens, WAY before you were even born! Idk if there is a way to go home but hey! At least you have your wizard friend from your timeline with you :D

Our Life (Now and Forever & Beginnings and always) Both stories consist of you growing up with your love interest since childhood. There are many paths to take, lots of assets to use to customize your character, and many side stories for you to read! Personally, this is one of my favourites :D (Our Life: Beginnings and Always is complete but Our Life: Now and Forever is still in development!)

Please don't hate Christmas A Yandere x Christmas x Urban Legend Otome game. Do you like Paranormal stuff? Do you like lore that connects with the story? Are you alright with MCs with a sprite that is impossible to remove from the screen? Well, look no further! This game is perfect for you! (by the way, the whole game was made by the creator. Only by themself! Even the CGs and character sprites!! Isn't that amazing!?)

Saint Spell's Love Guide A normal week of magical school... you can be friends with someone, or fall in love with them. Wait... there's lots of CGs for each character? Complicated world-building and lore!?? Angst and cruel bad endings!!?? SHROOMS!?!?!? {Oh by the way, there's multiple ways to get killed in this game. Just make sure to be careful sweetie :3}

Where Winter Crows go A crow and a scientist named Crowe... cute Another one of my other personal favourites! The love interest is a very squeezable and adorable (yandere) scientist who cooks you good food :D All of the endings are well-written! And if you're a crazy bitch like me, you'll love one of the endings >:)

THIS IS PART 1 SINCE I CAN'T FIT EVERYTHING IN 😭

#itch.co #blooming panic #error 143 #killer trait #klein v.01 #light the way luxiem #obey me #obey me nightbringer #our life #please don't hate christmas #saint spells love guide #where the winter crows go #PLEASE TALK TO ME I'M DESPERATE 😭😭 #I need more fandom friends... #a date with death #otome games

[lyranova]

Hello! Im not sure if your requests are still open but if they are could I pls ask for Fuegoleon, nozel and nacht (or just fue and nozel) with a sweet and lovely s/o who is mute because of some trauma from before she started dating them and something happens like the boys save her or does something exceptionally romantic and s/o talks for the first time in years and it's his name?? It's so fluffy and cute I'm gonna combust >x<

Hiya anon! My requests are open so don’t worry! And Of course, and since you requested for 3 characters I’m going to assume these are Headcanons and not fics 😅. They aren’t really romantic but I do think/hope they are sweet, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of Trauma and being Mute

———

Fuegoleon:

• Was a little worried when you wrote a letter to him, asking if it was okay if you went on a mission with him and his squad. He didn’t want you to get hurt, or for something on the mission to accidentally trigger your trauma. But after some persistence he reluctantly allowed her to tag along.

• He made sure to keep you safe the entire time. Even though you were mute you were still able to communicate your feelings to him through various means, whether it was sign language, body language, or by writing notes and letters. It took him a while to learn it all, but now was able to tell how you were feeling with ease.

• During the mission Fuegoleon left you alone for a moment to check on his squad almost as soon as he did the ground beneath you cracked and rumbled before splitting open. You watched the sky get farther and farther away as you fell further and further into the cracked ground. But before you could close your eyes and accept your fate you watched Fuegoleon and Salamander appear in the sky.

• The quickly flew down into the cracked ground with you and Fuegoleon scooped you up into his arms and held you close before Salamander flew you all out. Fuegoleon tried to comfort you as you shook in fright, this was one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted you to come along.

• “ F-F…ue…Fue…goleon.” The man in question blinked in surprise and looked down at you. You had tears in your eyes but a smile on your face. “ Fuegoleon…thank…you.” You continued to speak and Fuegoleon felt tears well up in his eyes. You had never spoken a single word since you two had been together, and now you did. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.

Nozel:

• Nozel had been firm in not allowing you to accompany him on missions. You could get hurt or used as a hostage were his reasons. You pouted and signed to him about how none of those things would happen and that you could take care of yourself!

• Of course Nozel knew this too, but still he couldn’t help but worry. He loved you dearly and was very protective of you after you told him about the trauma you suffered that caused you to become mute. He didn’t want you to see or experience something that would make it worse.

• But finally he relented and allowed you to go on a mission with him. It was a small, easy one that had a 0% chance of you getting scared or injured.

• And yet even with that 0% chance you somehow managed to get lost. You hadn’t meant to get seperated from the squad. You walked and walked for what felt like hours before you finally stopped to take a rest. You wiped the frustrated tears out of your eyes and waited for someone to find you. After a minute you heard some twigs snap behind you, thinking it was a predator. You grabbed the nearest branch and swung at it with your eyes closed once it got near.

• You felt something grab a hold of the branch and you opened your eyes to see Nozel standing there with a worried expression. “ No…zel?” You said softly as the tears that had welled in your eyes earlier suddenly spilt over. Nozel looked at you in surprise. “ Noz…el.” You repeated and before you could say anything else Nozel grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you. He was so happy to hear you say his name for the first time. He softly told you that it was okay and that you were safe.

Nacht:

• Nacht wasn’t going to let you go out on a mission with him period. The missions he went on were particularly dangerous and he didn’t want you to get hurt. After you told him how you went mute due to trauma he made your safety and security his number one priority.

• Instead he decided to take you out on a scouting mission. It was simple, easy, and the two of you could get away from everyone for a short amount of time. Plus nothing eventful ever happened on them, aside from his Devil’s giving him a hard time.

• You and Nacht stayed hidden behind a group of rocks as you watched the targets move back and forth, Nacht quietly told his devils that they were to protect you at all costs if an enemy were to appear. Gimodelo began to tease him about it a bit before you pulled on Nacht’s sleeve to get his attention.

• “ N-N…Nacht.” You had whispered as you pulled on his sleeve. He and Gimodelo blinked and turned to look at you. “ N-Nacht…L…Look!” you whispered again and Nacht turned to look and saw a bunch of beautiful fireflies flying around them.

• But he couldn’t focus on that, because at the moment he was so happy and elated that you were able to overcome your trauma and actually say something. He suddenly pulled you into the tightest hug he could manage without hurting you. Seeing you come over your trauma and push past your limits gave him the hope that maybe he would be able to too.

#asks #anon🌟 #black clover #black clover headcanons #black clover hcs #black clover x reader #black clover x you #fuegoleon vermillion #nozel silva #nacht faust #black clover fuegoleon #black clover nozel #black clover nacht