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#-or or or hug him and it seems like he kind of just tolerates it but ITS ME and ive decided he enjoys it. real. his love is very subtle-
salsflore · 1 year
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i think i should kill all my f/os with my own two hands btw
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angelltheninth · 16 days
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If you don't mind... Could I request for Astral express men + Penacony men (minus Gallagher pls) with a s/o who is VERY sensitive to any form of physical affection?
Like if he kisses their s/o, they flinch and blush profusely but don't hate it? And they feel it very electrifying every time they touch? 🍮
🍮🍮
That's just me, I melt at affection.
Pairing: Aventurine, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Sunday, Veritas Ratio, Welt x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, being flustered, teasing, PDA
A/N: We could all you a bit more affection.
Aventurine absolutely teases you about it. "You gotta build up that tolerance." he says while pulling you to his side, one arm thrown over your shoulders and a mischievous smirk on his lips. Being in public will be good for you, being in his charismatic company, perhaps you even pick up a few things. "How about this, for every game I win I get a kiss. Don't think of them as kisses, more as rewards for your lucky boyfriend."
Boothill is mostly the only one who will see you in this state, flustered, almost panicking. "Damn, all that just from a lil' kiss? How ya gonna handle me doin' more than that I wonder." As he leans in once more, his sharp teeth licked by his tongue you instantly back away and right against his strong arms. "Running from me eh, not on my watch, running is my thing." He dips you down and slowly brings his lips to yours, sighing when you return it.
Caelus gets shy too so he's not one to judge someone else for doing the same. "I like that shy side of you, reminds me of myself. May not seem like it but I freak out about you kissing me all the time." He offers you his hand and when you take it he gives you a big hug, waiting until you relax against him. "We can take things slowly. I'm here for you."
Dan Heng thinks it's a human thing that you react in such a way. To him it's not odd, it's rather endearing. "I would never tease you for those reactions, my darling. Are they embarrassing for you?" He doesn't understand why but he won't push you to tell him until you're ready for it. Can't hold back from kissing you regardless, "If I keep telling you you're cute maybe you it can be easier." The smile he gives you is enough to make you flustered all over again.
Sunday hides your flustered face from anyone who might be around you. "No one will see you, it's alright. I apologize if I crossed a boundary and made you uncomfortable. I won't kiss you like that again." That's not what you want at all but you're too shy to say it now, you wait until you're alone. "Now you want a kiss. Ah, I understand, not in public then." Kisses will happen only in private.
Veritas Ratio repeats the same kiss again, he wants to make sure you'd react in the same way as before. "Does my kiss cause you to be come so embaressed? Yet, I can tell you enjoy it. Let's try it again, one more time." Being smart doesn't help him in this case, there's no way you can tell him not to kiss you, you welcome it ever time but when it looks like he's not stopping you wrap your arms around him to stop him from doing it again, "Had enough of me already?"
Welt thinks he's done something wrong when you pull back so suddenly. "I'm sorry, was that not okay? I've noticed you always pull back when I kiss you." It takes a lot to explain to him that it's not his fault, it's the way you are with any kind of physical affection he gives you, surely he noticed. "So that's what that was. I was under the impression I was making you uncomfortable. I'm glad that's not the case.
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starryeyedjanai · 6 months
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@eddiemonth prompt: first concert | read on ao3
The first concert of Corroded Coffin's that Steve goes to, Eddie's a nervous wreck beforehand.
His hands are sweaty and he's wringing them as he paces outside after they get their equipment inside.
Jeff takes one look at him and sighs.
He knows how Eddie feels about Steve and he knows how important it is that they make a good impression on him. He might not understand the whole Steve thing, but he gets having a crush on someone unattainable.
Well-
When Eddie first told him about it, he thought it was just an unattainable little crush. Just something that happened because they got close after the earthquake. Steve was a new friend, someone Eddie hadn't known long enough to get used to, and he's - Jeff's not going to pretend he isn't attractive.
So he understood it, kind of. And the thought that the crush would fade once Eddie knew him for longer.
But Steve hanging around them, making an effort to get to know Jeff and Grant and Gareth, being nice to Jeff's mom- that had Jeff pausing and taking another look at the situation.
Because Steve didn't have to do any of that. He could hang out with Eddie, maybe the one freak he could tolerate, and call it a day.
But he was trying, and he was being better than he was in high school. Which, if anyone asks, Jeff would say he actually wasn't all that bad in high school compared to the others.
So Jeff looked a little more closely.
And saw the way Steve looks at Eddie, his eyes tracking him as he crosses the room. He saw the way Steve laughed at all of Eddie's jokes, even the ones he didn't understand. He saw the way Steve was always looking for an excuse to touch Eddie, putting a hand on his arm, putting a hand on his back, his arm around him, hugging him at the end of the night and the hugs lasting longer than any hug Jeff's ever had with a buddy.
He saw that and saw that this isn't a passing fancy for Eddie. He saw the way Eddie leaned into Steve unconsciously, the way he always looks for him first when entering a room, the way he lights up when he sees him. He saw the way Eddie seemed to like him more and more, and subsequently talk about him more and more, the more he got to know him.
So it wasn't just a crush.
And it wasn't unrequited like Eddie thought.
But now Jeff is watching him pace a hole in the ground and he can't exactly tell Eddie that he's 99% sure that Steve feels the same because 1. he wouldn't believe him and 2. that 1% of doubt is enough to deter him. This isn't something he can be wrong about. Even if feels mostly sure, he wouldn't ever say that he should go for it when it could turn ugly for him. This isn't a crush on some girl where the worst that could happen is that she says no.
So, for now, Jeff watches.
And Jeff hopes.
He hopes that they'll be able to see it for themselves. That Eddie will catch the way Steve looks at him and realize that it's the same way he looks at Steve.
He hopes that Steve will make a move, put those rumors of his suaveness to good use and woo Eddie.
He heads inside when he sees Gareth talking to Eddie, trying to calm him down.
He sees Steve and Robin, talking at a table near the front of the venue, and he makes a beeline for them.
"Jeff!" Steve says, smiling at him when he sees him coming over. He waves at both of them.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" he asks and when Steve furrows his brow and nods, he leads him away from Robin.
"What's going on?" Steve asks, looking worried.
He says, "Just, Eddie's really nervous about performing in front of you tonight. So, like, even if we suck or you don't like this kind of music, can you not say you didn't like it? Not that I think you'd be mean about it, but like-"
Steve looks at him confused. "I've listened to your tapes before. I like your music. I wouldn't- okay, I mean I'd still be here even if I didn't like it, but I do like it. Wait- why's Eddie nervous?" he asks. And Jeff hadn't planned on Steve asking that. Shit.
He says, "Because you're his coolest friend and he doesn't want to screw up in front of you."
Steve's expression softens. "I'm not- you know what? Okay. If it makes you feel better, I won't say I didn't like it."
"Okay," Jeff says, nodding, relieved. "And don't, like, mention I said anything."
"'Course," Steve says with a smile. "You're a good friend, Jeff."
Jeff grins at him and walks him back to his table. That 1% is looking awfully less and less with every conversation Jeff has with Steve.
The manager waves him over and tells them they can start setting up on stage, so he goes to get the others.
-
The show is good, once Eddie snaps out of his nerves.
It's actually impressive, seeing him with shaky hands as they get ready to start and then seeing him turn it on seamlessly like he was never nervous in the first place.
They play and Jeff watches the way Eddie keeps looking at Steve, keeps looking to make sure he looks like he's enjoying himself.
And Jeff sees Steve smiling the entire time, singing along to the cover songs they do and also to one of their original songs.
At the end of the night, after they get their stuff back in their van, he sees Eddie and Steve talking, standing close, one of Steve's hands playing with the hem of Eddie's shirt.
And he knows they'll get there eventually, even without his help.
They'll find their way to each other and see what Jeff sees.
He's sure of it.
As he gets in the driver's seat and looks over at Grant, he can only hope he'll get that too one day.
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solarmorrigan · 11 months
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I have a lot of thoughts about Steve who craves physical affection, who thinks of his worth in terms of what he can do for other people, and who got very drunk at high school parties. This is one of them
CW for heavily implied past dubcon (not between Eddie and Steve). Please take care
-
Eddie has never seen Steve drunk.
At least – not up close. There had been a few high school parties back in the day where Eddie had passed by the “Keg Stand King,” but since he’s come to know Steve personally (intimately), Steve has barely touched alcohol.
He’s told Eddie the story of being drugged against his will and how he doesn’t want to repeat the feeling of losing control, and how he doesn’t like not being able to drive if he needs to, and how the hangover would probably just trigger a migraine anyway – and, really, he just doesn’t drink much anymore.
Yet tonight had been a special occasion: Robin’s birthday. She herself isn’t much for alcohol (for at least some reasons that match up with Steve’s), but drinking, she said, feels like a part of the birthday experience. She’d somehow gotten Steve to match her beer for beer, for “emotional support,” and it hadn’t taken long for the both of them to become entirely inebriated.
Time has apparently greatly eroded Steve’s tolerance.
Eddie had distantly expected him to be kind of a bitchy drunk—and he had become a bit cattier, for sure—but mostly he’d just become affectionate. There had been hugs for nearly everyone, and he’d spent the latter half of the party slowly migrating into Eddie’s lap, plying him with constant kisses on the cheek and giggling ridiculously at nearly everything Eddie had said.
It had been sort of adorable (not that Eddie will tell him that; no, he’s going to sit on that information until it benefits him).
It’s a little less fun now that he’s trying to cart Steve up to his room and into bed. Steve is a bit wobbly, and a lot heavy, and is much more interested in trying to cling to Eddie like a koala and bury his face in Eddie’s neck than he is in actually walking anywhere.
“Y’know, we could cuddle to your heart’s content if you’d just let me get you to bed,” Eddie points out when he and Steve have stalled out partway down the hall, leaning against the closed door to the bathroom.
Steve hums vaguely, tightening the grip he has on Eddie’s t-shirt. “But you’re out here,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of Eddie’s neck.
A shiver travels down Eddie’s spine at the feeling of Steve’s warm breath ghosting across his throat, but it doesn’t go much further than a gentle, dying flutter in his gut. As affectionate as Steve has been, as hungry for contact as he’s acted all night, there’s been nothing sexual about it. It’s been all hugs and sweet kisses, not heated embraces and sloppy make outs.
Besides– Steve’s drunk. Eddie’s not going to take advantage.
He wedges a hand between himself and Steve and gently pushes Steve back.
“I’m coming to bed with you, you colossal dork,” Eddie says.
Steve blinks at Eddie, slightly unfocused. “Oh.” He finally heaves up and away from the wall, grabbing Eddie’s hand to tug him along as he weaves unsteadily down the hall. “Well why didn’t you say so?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, all affection. “Where else would I be going?”
Steve stops when they get to his room, apparently pondering the answer.
“Away?” he finally volunteers, half-questioning, as if he’s hoping he’s wrong.
“No, baby,” Eddie assures him immediately, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “I’m staying. Gotta make sure you don’t choke on your tongue after you pass out, anyway.”
“’m not that drunk,” Steve says; he rolls his eyes and then immediately seems to regret it, reaching out for Eddie’s shoulder to steady himself.
“Uh huh,” Eddie drawls. “Okay, time for bed, big boy.”
Grumbling, Steve releases Eddie to shuffle over to the bed, where he flops down on his back with a sigh, jeans and all.
“Alright, not exactly what I meant, but I can work with this,” Eddie says, kneeling on the bed by Steve’s hip.
They’d managed to ditch their shoes in the entryway, but they’re otherwise fully dressed, and Steve is going to be uncomfortable if he tries to spend the whole night in his belt and jeans.
Steve squirms a bit when Eddie reaches for his belt buckle, as if he’s not quite sure whether to move away or not.
“Eddie…” he groans – an exasperated sort of groan, rather than the usual way he groans Eddie’s name when he’s squirming on the bed.
“Just hold still,” Eddie shushes him with a quick pat to the hip.
He gets as far as pulling the tongue of the belt through the buckle before Steve’s hands shoot out and grab Eddie by the wrists. His grip is surprisingly strong, considering how uncoordinated he’d been tonight, and Eddie stills immediately.
“Steve?” Eddie looks up to see Steve staring down at him, wide-eyed and apprehensive; hell, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he might say Steve looks… sort of frightened.
“Not– not tonight,” Steve says, enunciating carefully, and Eddie’s confusion only increases.
He doesn’t want his belt off tonight? Is that what he’s worked up about?
In the wake of Eddie’s baffled lack of response, Steve only grows more insistent, tugging Eddie’s hands away from his waist.
“Not while I’m–” Steve breaks off, licking his lips nervously. He shakes his head and adds quietly, “Please.”
Brows furrowed, Eddie stares at Steve a second longer. “Not while you’re…?” Then the penny drops, and Eddie jerks away from Steve so quickly that Steve barely has time to let go. “Oh shit, no. That’s not– no, I’m not– Steve, fuck, no, that’s not what I’m doing.”
Steve stares up at Eddie, the anxiety he’s a little too drunk to mask still lingering in his eyes.
“I promise, I was only trying to get your belt and pants off so you’d be more comfortable. For sleeping!” Eddie says quickly. “But you can keep them on if you want. Hell, put on more layers. Do you want a jacket?”
Distantly, Eddie realizes he’s rambling and tries to stop; it doesn’t seem to be helping.
“I– I know I was kissing you,” Steve says, then glances away with a grimace, seeming a bit more sober now. “Practically throwing myself at you. ’m sorry, I just–”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be,” Eddie says firmly. “Even if you were throwing yourself at me—even though you weren’t; like, I can tell the difference between cuddly you and horny you, okay?—but even if you had been, you can still say no. You can always say no. But I swear, Steve, I was only trying to get you comfy, that’s all.”
For a moment, Steve just breathes, processing Eddie’s words as carefully as his sloshed brain will allow.
“Are you still going to stay?” he finally asks. “Even though I don’t want to have sex?”
“Of course,” Eddie blurts, some dizzying combination of baffled, anxious, and incensed. “I’m only gonna leave if you tell me to.”
And even then, he’d only go as far as the couch downstairs (just in case).
Slowly, Steve nods, then reaches for his belt to pull it off in a series of determined, clumsy movements. He drops it on the floor when he’s done but makes no move to remove his jeans.
Eddie, following suit, resigns himself to an uncomfortable night. He strips off his jewelry and his own belt but leaves his pants on.
All the lights go out, save for a small, dim lamp on Steve’s desk, and then Eddie crawls on top of the covers with Steve, pulling the blanket from the end of the bed—a gift from Claudia—up over both of them.
A little of the churning, anxious mess in Eddie’s chest eases when Steve immediately plasters himself to his side, resting his head on Eddie’s chest (and Eddie just knows there’s going to be drool there come morning, but he can’t bear to move him). All the same, even as he hears Steve’s breathing even out into sleep, Eddie can’t get his mind to rest.
What has he done to give Steve the impression that he’d try to fuck him when he’s too drunk to really say yes? What has he done to make him think he’d leave if Steve doesn’t put out?
Nothing.
Genuinely and truly, Eddie can’t think of anything. There have been plenty of times they’ve hung out, even shared a bed, and they haven’t had sex. Sure, they’re active, but they do actually do other things together.
There have been other nights where sex has seemed like a sure thing, only to be halted by an apologetic look from Steve and the start of a migraine. There have been times Eddie’s called it off because his anxiety has reared up and bit him in the ass. There’s never been anger over it.
That leaves two options: it’s either an imagined scenario stirred up by anxiety and insecurity and alcohol, or… it’s based on a different experience, in a different time and place.
All things considered, Eddie has a terrible, sinking feeling that he knows which one it is.
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steddie-as-they-come · 5 months
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sequel to my roommate steddie au!! here's the first part! tags have changed, it's now more mature with some fade to black sex
Steve’s so warm. It’s not fair.
Eddie must have half his wardrobe on, tucked under all the blankets on his bed, and Steve is just sitting over there, in a T-shirt and thin sweatpants, like the jackass he is.
"You look cold." Steve says, shifting a bit.
Eddie glares at him. "No shit, Sherlock," he bites out, trying to reign in his temper. All things considered, Steve's a pretty great roommate, sharing his food and his children with Eddie. It's not his fault the college decides to let their students freeze to death.
Steve, to his credit, just laughs at him. "Okay, fine. I was gonna offer for you to come hang out over here, since you're over the vent and I'm not, but if you're gonna be like that-"
Eddie practically teleports out of bed. "No! No, please, Steve, did I ever mention how great your hair looks today and how kind you are to me-"
Steve laughs again, moving out of the way and patting the bed next to him. Eddie doesn't hesitate to scurry up and tuck himself into a little cocoon of his own blankets, trying not to bump Steve's arm as he focuses on his homework. He doesn't completely succeed, and his hand brushes against Steve's bare arm.
"What the fuck?" he says loudly. "Why are you the temperature of a campfire?"
Steve shrugs. "I've always run hot." he says. "It's great during winter movie nights because everyone piles on top of me, but then I get banished during summer movie nights, which is no fun."
Eddie's already sprawled over his shoulder, sighing happily, like some kind of lizard on a sunlit rock. If August Eddie could see him now, he'd try to smack the shit outta him for falling for a straight guy. One who was his roommate, no less.
But it's hard not to when Steve is kind, and accepting, and a little bit stupid, and hot as hell. It isn't like he just tolerates Eddie's physical affection either, he seems to welcome it. Steve even started initiating it, wrapping an arm around Eddie's shoulders, grabbing his arm to haul him out of particularly big crowds, and the hugs. Steve loves hugs.
There's a darkness to Steve too, the way he moves, the way he's always checking over his shoulder, flinching at flickering lights, always ready for a fight.
It makes Eddie wonder if Steve is like him.
Eddie wiggles a bit, adjusting his chin to prop on Steve's shoulder. "Whatcha workin' on?" he asks, just to be nosy.
Steve rolls his eyes, leaning away. "None of your business." he teases.
Eddie misses the warmth as soon as Steve's gone. "Nooooo," he whines. "Come back. I won't look!"
Steve stays leaned away, raising his eyebrows. "You're so weird." he says. It's not in a mean way, more that he's bewildered that one person can be this strange. Eddie takes this as a compliment.
He pretends to freeze to death, jerking and flinching. "It's...so cold." he mutters. "I see...the light... All because my roommate...let me freeze to death..."
Finally, Steve's blissful warmth comes back, and Steve sighs, tapping his pen against his paper. Eddie tries to peek again, and recognizes familiar words.
"Is that a character sheet?" he yells, and Steve frowns at him.
"You said you wouldn't look!"
Eddie waves him off, grabbing for the sheet. "Steve, this is D&D. It's automatically my business when it's D&D."
Steve finally hands it over. "Fine. Yes, it's a character sheet. Dustin's birthday is next Monday, and I was gonna ask you if I could join your game as a present to him."
Eddie nods, inspecting the sheet. Dustin's been begging for Steve to join basically since they started their little arrangement, where Eddie DM's for them in exchange for no more open hostility in the dorms. It may have worked a little too well, given Eddie's budding crush, but c'est la vie.
Eddie hands it back. "You are supposed to give the DM the character sheet a couple days in advance so they have time to work you into the plot."
Steve winces. "Really? Shit, I didn't know that."
"It's fine, I got some ideas, just from looking it over. You can borrow a spare set of dice and one of my miniatures too."
"Oh good, I had no idea if I needed any of that stuff."
"Do you want me to do a little crash course for you?" Eddie asks, preparing to brave the cold to grab his little homemade handbook.
Steve gives him a deadpan look. "Are you kidding me? Dustin is gonna love being better than me at this. I might as well go in with a regular six-sided die and pretend I thought that's the one I needed."
Eddie laughs. "Fair enough." The cold touches his neck and he burrows back into his blankets. "This fucking sucks, by the way. The cold."
"You're a big baby, man. It's fine."
"Ah, yes. Forgot I live with a walking, talking furnace." Eddie rolls his eyes, muttering, "This is worse than the time I was left outside in the cold."
"Wait, what?" Steve turns to him, eyes flinty like steel. "You were...what?"
"Oh. Um." Eddie's not sure how much to reveal, but he figures it had to come out eventually. "My dad left me out in the cold when I was thirteen. I think he thought it'd fix me. I just got really sick, though." He laughs humorlessly.
"You said...fix you?" Steve says, and Eddie's heart drops. He backs away from Steve before starting to talk, trying to find something to defend himself with if Steve gets mad.
"Yeah." Eddie says. "He saw me...kissing a boy."
Steve's eyes widen, and then he scoots closer. Eddie's breath hitches.
"Me too." Steve whispers.
Now it's Eddie's turn to be shocked. Steve continues. "Not...not left outside in the cold. They'd need to be home long enough for that. But...bisexual. I like girls and guys."
There's a tense, charged silence in the room. Eddie draws up all his courage. "I like you, Steve."
Steve stares at Eddie’s lips. “Can I-” he whispers breathlessly.
Eddie, seemingly just as entranced, nods, and Steve leans forward, pressing his lips against Eddie. Almost unconsciously, Eddie tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Steve hums happily. 
Eddie’s tongue swipes at the sealed lines of Steve’s lips. Steve freezes, then slowly, tentatively, opens his mouth. 
Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. Eddie practically pulls Steve down towards him, hands greedily exploring every inch of Steve he could reach. Steve gladly returns the favor, sneaking his hands between Eddie’s back and the mattress so he can feel the muscles lining Eddie’s spine flex and move as Eddie kisses him stupid. 
Eddie pulls back, breaking the kiss. Steve whines, actually whines, and dives back in, but Eddie stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. 
He kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth, and Steve chases it, leaning subtly towards Eddie, but Eddie just keeps moving, kissing a trail from his mouth to his chin, to the soft skin where Steve's jawline blends into his neck. Steve keeps moving, running his hands up and down Eddie’s back just for something to do. 
Eddie reaches the small curve where his shoulder meets his neck, and Steve feels a small scrape of teeth against his skin. He whimpers. 
“Oh?” Eddie says, the first thing he’s said since Steve leaned in. His voice is raspy, and Steve privately thinks it's the hottest fucking thing in the world. “There?” 
He kisses there again, but this time there's no teeth, and Steve stays quiet, breathing slowly, in and out, in and out. 
“Or…did you like it when I did this?” 
Eddie leans forward and nips at Steve’s collar, and Steve keens. “Eddieee…” he says, dragging the vowels out too long, leaving that name hanging in the air.
Eddie tilts his head back up and captures Steve’s lips in another kiss, tongue sliding into Steve’s mouth smoothly. He kisses for a few seconds, then readjusts and gently nips at Steve’s lower lip. 
“Please, please Eddie,” Steve begs breathlessly, not even sure what he's pleading for. Eddie seems to get it though, and slides his hands under his shirt to cup Steve’s waist.
Steve laces his hands through Eddie's hair and pulls, and Eddie lets out a moan, pushing Steve off of him and rolling so he's on top, enjoying the feeling of Steve under him on the mattress.
"I've never been so glad for the cold," he whispers against Steve's lips, and kisses him again.
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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
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Heartbeat
A short fluff for BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge.
Prompt: Snow&Ice
Tags: fluff, pregnancy
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion gasps as the freezing grasp of the nightmare lets him go. He doesn't remember what exactly decided to torment his mind this time, but it wasn't anything pleasant, that's for sure.
For a few seconds, Astarion can't understand where he is. It's a dark room with a low wooden ceiling. The blizzard howls, threatening to freeze to death anyone who dares step outside.
"Hm?", he hears a sweet sleepy voice. Gentle hands wrap around his body. "Nightmares again?"
Astarion turns his face to you. The warmth of your body returns him to reality, washing away the dirt of the cruel visions.
"It's all right", he whispers back. "Sleep."
You adjust yourself to his body, intertwining your legs with his and placing your head on his chest. You are so close he can hear blood streaming through your veins.
Before, he could ask you for blood. But not now.
Your rounded belly rests on his stomach. Your half-elven body easily betrays your pregnancy - it's visible to everyone with eyes.
And Astarion is scared. That is probably what came to him in the nightmare. Something about this thing that's so natural for mortals and so unnatural for the undead.
Pregnancy.
He caresses the belly trying to concentrate on something else. On something good.
But, gods know, it's difficult.
"Astarion, you are starving. You need to go on a hunt", you whisper to him, finally opening your eyes.
"I didn't know you were so eager to become a single mother", he chuckles. "It's too cold even for me"
"Maybe you will ask someone in the town? They will gladly share animal blood with you."
"Trust me, they tolerate me only because not once in these five years I've tried to feed on something that belongs to them. Vampires can live without food for years, love. I can wait at least a day before the blizzard ends."
You sigh and tug him closer. He can see your freckles, these gorgeous sunmarks. Red hair. Half-elven ears.
He still can't fathom this idea. It's something abstract, unreal. Just a word without a meaning. Your body is changing. Sometimes you have such insane mood swings he has no idea what to do. And you feel so delicate in his arms that he is afraid to hurt you.
"Are you afraid?", you finally ask.
"Yes. I am."
A pleasant silence falls once again.
"Me too. Considering how shitty my own mother was, it's not like I have a healthy maternity example. On the bright side, I have a very clear idea of what I am not supposed to do with an innocent child."
"It will probably be a dhampir, love. Aren't you afraid of that? That it's just a monster inside you?"
"I willingly went to bed with you. What else would I expect?"
You hug him tight and he is lost in your breathing and the heartbeat. So alive. So kind. So brave.
He willingly went to bed with someone whose weapon of choice is a two-handed axe he can't even lift. Someone who could easily pet a dragon. What else did he expect? Of course you aren't afraid of monsters.
But it doesn't mean he isn't scared of the future to come.
"I am cold", you suddenly say.
"I am sorry", he tries to pull away - his cold body isn't a great source of warmth.
"Don't move!" you tighten your muscles not allowing him to go.
"I will make you colder."
"So what?"
He gives up and keeps enjoying your warmth. Does the baby have this warmth, too? Or it's more undead than mortal? It bugs Astarion that he hasn't found any information on how the pregnancy is supposed to progress if the child is a dhampir.
Does it even have a heartbeat?
It seems like you have fallen asleep once again. He smiles, studying your face in the dark.
The sound of a blizzard lulls him so is your breathing. Nothing to be afraid of. The past is past, no matter how horrible it was.
And then Astarion hears another sound.
He can't understand what this is and is surprised that your heartbeat feels so weak.
Then he hears yours, loud and stong.
And the other one, weak and hardly identified by his sharp senses.
It seems like he flinches because you are awake again.
"What is it?"
Astarion sits up and puts his hands on the belly. The tears flow down his pale face and he doesn't try to wipe them away.
"My love, what happened?" you reach out for his curls and touch the tip of the right ear.
"I-", the words are stuck in his throat. "It's the heartbeat. I can hear our child's heartbeat!"
Astarion tugs you closer for a kiss. He laughs joyfully, muttering words of gratitude in Elven as if forgetting how to speak Common all of a sudden.
You spend what looks like an eternity in each other arms. Then, you pull away a bit.
"Astarion. I am so sorry to ruin the moment but I am dying of hunger, too. Can we go downstairs? I will fetch something for myself and the baby."
He chuckles. "Don't be ridiculous, darling. You stay in the warmth under the blanket and I will cook for you."
"You?" you laugh innocently. You've been together for twenty years and Astarion rarely has to cook only if you fell so sick he has to feed you.
"Well, I suppose our child won't drink blood. So, I have a few more months to learn how to prepare food."
"At least let me help you before you burn the house", you reach out for him and he lifts you in the air. "Will you get me back on my feet?"
"No, why should I?"
You put your head on his chest. "All right, then. Carry us downstairs, my beautiful husband!"
--
Tag list
@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster@astarion-beloved@lumienyx @fayeriess@elora-the-slutty-songstress@veillsar@astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea@herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashiro20 @not-so-lost-after-alll @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy @tugoslovenka
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miley1442111 · 1 month
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thank god for dr. spencer reid
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a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))
summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?
pairing: spencerreid x reader
warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!
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My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and  just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me. 
I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck. 
“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her. 
“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”
My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.
“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-” 
“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh. 
“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.
“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman. 
He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”
I just nod back, a small smile on my lips. 
“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist. 
“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious. 
“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years  of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now. 
“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. 
“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”
“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.” 
“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes. 
“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him. 
“You are.”
“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.
“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid. 
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cozage · 1 year
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Hey Coza, I hope you’re doing well. May I request headcanons of Law & Zoro x fem reader who is overly affectionate, and is always hugging them around their crew mates? Thank you!
A/N: Anon this was so cute. You are so cute. Ily. 
Characters: gn reader x Law, Zoro
Cw: just cute fluff :) 
Total word count: 500
Law
The first time you go over and hug him, lean on him, rest your head against his shoulder, he shoots you a look. It’s not necessarily a glare, but one filled with shock and also a hint of irritation.
He learns to tolerate it pretty quickly, and after a few days he doesn’t even tense when you lean against him casually when you guys are together.
Kisses still kind of make him nervous when you do it unexpectedly, but it’s more because his crewmates snicker at his facial expressions when you’re extra affectionate.
He secretly really loves it though. He loves the way you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against him, how you run by him in the hallway and stop to give him a kiss on the cheek. 
He didn’t realize how much he loved physical touch until you started doing it to him. And now he craves it whenever he sees you. 
He uses your “clinginess” as a gauge for how good/bad your day is going. If you seem kind of distant, he’ll be the one to come up and wrap his arms around you, asking you how your day has been and keeping you close to him so you know that you’re loved just as much as you love him. 
Zoro
Sober Zoro is so anti-PDA. The first time you give him a hug around everyone, he freezes. He resists the urge to push you off, and his face gets super red from embarrassment. 
“What was that?” he asks later when you’re alone, a bit of hostility in his voice. “A hug?” you laugh at him. “Don’t do it again in public. It was weird.” he said, ending the conversation. 
Obviously your feelings are a bit hurt, but you follow his request. You avoid any PDA around the crew, even though it hurts you to do it. 
Drunk Zoro is very different, though. He’s clingy. He wants people to know you’re his. He wants to show you off. 
You walk by him and he grabs your hand, pulling you down to sit on his lap. He kisses the nape of your neck a few times, and you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. 
He leans against you, his arms around your torso. “Sorry I said I didn’t like this the other day,” he mumbles in your ear. “I do, it just took me by surprise.”
After that encounter, he becomes more tolerable to your affection. You feel him tense whenever you walk up and give him a hug, but he no longer blushes or makes a big deal about it, and he always hugs you back and lets you stay there as long as you want. Sometimes he’ll even give you a peck on the cheek or the forehead while you're there.
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sigmoon · 5 months
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Hello! Do you have any Jouno hcs? I know you once mentioned him in one post that got deleted
Anyways, how are you doing? I hope your day is going well! ^_^
Jouno Headcanons // sfw + nsfw
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cw: dark content; dubcon/noncon, cnc, emotional manipulation, blackmail, prostitution, Jouno being a red flag. // mostly gen. neutral, except for one or two hcs.
author’s note: hi, nonnie! I’m doing okay, some things are stressful, others are going well, so it’s an up and down currently. But I’m happy that I managed to finish a request and answered some asks that have been piling up :) I hope you’re having a nice day.
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SFW
Jouno is that person who gets super pissed when there’s a crying baby in public, like on a train, and it just won’t stop wailing. He has to pull himself together to not give the baby that creepy glare of his, though he's probably the reason the baby started crying in the first place. He doesn't have a kind face.
You never know whether he likes or hates you. Whether you and him are coworkers or acquaintances, he’s either really polite and it’s hard to tell if he’s being genuinely nice or not, or he makes a lot of mean, sarcastic comments and you’d have no clue if that’s just his sense of humor and friendly teasing, or if he can’t stand you.
I have a feeling that animals don’t like him. For example, cats and dogs can be wary of people when they’re no good, and although Jouno might be able to deceive other people, it’s not uncommon that their pets seem uneasy and skeptical around him, not wanting to be touched or picked up by him.
I don’t think he would be particularly mean in a romantic relationship with someone he truly loves, and neither would he act like you're the biggest nuisance in the world. That treatment is reserved for people who have no value to him; if he loves you, he will not be sappy and over-the-top affectionate with you, especially not in public, but rather talk shit about people he doesn't like with you. If he asks you to brainstorm some insults with him, he’s head over heels in love with you.
Speaking of affection, he’s usually not the one who seeks it, but he never fails to be surprised when he notices how good it feels to be hugged, have his hair played with or his skin gently caressed by you. Due to his heightened senses, he tends to get overstimulated quickly, so you shouldn’t take it personally when he denies you physical contact. But overall, he likes how it feels and it’s not too rare that he’s the one to kiss you or hug you when you don’t expect it.
His alcohol tolerance is either ridiculously high or very low. He can either drink all night and not be hungover the next morning, or he’s already tipsy after one glass of wine.
I’m so sorry, but he’s the type of neighbor who takes a broom and knocks it against the ceiling when the neighbor in the apartment above him plays loud music after ten pm. It’s so embarrassing to witness, but he stands by it. His ears are sensitive and he hates it when people blast loud music. 
Jouno has a very complex and sophisticated skincare routine. See Patrick Bateman’s morning routine from American Psycho. That’s Jouno. 
Can’t fall asleep while cuddling. He’ll gladly cuddle with you in bed, but when he wants to sleep, he will curl up into an oddly specific position, a pillow between his thighs, one in his arms, and if the duvet isn’t neatly tucked around him in the way he wants it, he’ll get all grumpy and pouty, adjusting the bedding and blankets until he can fall asleep in peace.
Generally speaking, I think he experiences occasional sensory issues, dislikes specific textures and fabrics and finds certain noises relaxing and others drive him insane to the point where you could call it misophonia.
Talks in his sleep (and denies it).
Jouno is best friends with an elderly lady who lives in his apartment building. She’s always gushing over how handsome and well-mannered he is, but is shocked when he reveals to her that no, he does not have a wife and kids yet. He helps her up and down the stairs and she always brings him food when she makes too much for her to eat alone. Jouno can’t say no when it comes to her, he’s only really soft with her and his s/o if he has one.
NSFW
Jouno’s browsing history is concerning. If anyone, regardless of who that might be, discovers it, that person is as good as dead. He can’t have anyone know about the things he jerks off to, and having a liking for sadism is still the least fucked up thing about him.
He visits brothels from time to time or has a call girl come over and take care of his needs. It’s the most convenient option for him, and he does not have the time or any interest in pursuing a serious long-term relationship, due to his job. He seems kind of emotionally unavailable too, and even if he tried to date to find a long-term partner, I doubt that many potential partners would want to be in a relationship with him for too long. He’s a difficult person, and his sexual preferences tend to be pretty extreme, so he lacks compatibility with many people he would be interested in. Therefore, paying someone to sleep with him seems to be the best option for him. No attachment, no responsibilities, he has a high wage and can afford it, and it’s more likely that someone will let themselves be treated as harshly as he will treat them when they get paid for it.
Praise kink combined with degradation. Being praised while he ruins someone in bed is what turns him on the most. He lives for humiliation, too.
Not a nice headcanon, but I think Jouno regularly oversteps his partner’s boundaries. Firstly, to check if they will resist or not, wanting to know whether they might’ve changed their mind, and secondly, because he gets off on it. Violating their rules and going on with very dubious consent or no consent at all is a fantasy that excites him, though he will likely stop if his partner explicitly tells him to, or strongly resists. But he will be a dick about it, lowkey guilt-tripping them. However, he prefers CNC over non-con, mostly because of legal reasons. 
He would never, ever admit it, but being dominated by his partner is his deepest, darkest sexual secret. He’s so ashamed of it, but if you somehow managed to overpower him and took charge in the bedroom, after some resistance, Jouno would be a whiny, moaning mess underneath you. 
He takes lots of nudes of you, but not for himself. He has no use for visuals of your naked body, but they serve as potential blackmail so well. Tell someone he came in less than five minutes from you riding and simultaneously choking him, having him cry out your name like a needy whore, and he will leak your nudes. And in case you and him are going through a nasty breakup, Jouno will make sure you think twice about leaving him.
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syntheticfoxfire · 1 year
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In The Night | Niragi Suguru | [F]
Summary: A rare moment of tenderness lying in bed with Niragi. Word count: 1.4k Warnings: implied abusive behavior, referenced smut
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A cold breeze blowing through the open window chills you enough to make you scoot closer to the warm chest pressed against your back. Part of you wonders if that’s the reason why the window stayed open tonight but you let go of the thought quickly. It’s hard to focus on anything but the little content sigh the man behind you lets out. 
Niragi is far from perfect - hell, far from decent - but he’s making progress. Slowly. In moments like these you can almost imagine your relationship is normal.
His arms tighten around your waist, pressing you even more into him. Bare skin touches skin. It makes you shiver, sensitivity lingering after your previous activities. More than that, though, it reminds you of a movie scene you’ve seen ages ago. 
A blind woman touching a sleeping tiger.
Why can you relate to her so much at this very moment?
You let go of the thought. Instead, you turn around with a chuckle and nuzzle into his neck. The closer you are, the safer you are. He presses a kiss to your temple. Lately, you’re only seldom reminded of the feeling of the muzzle of his gun against that same spot.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” you note, running your hands over the muscles on his back.
“I am,” he replies. It’s indeed rare to see him like that - relaxed, walls lowered enough that you can forget they are there.
“Why?” you tease. After a moment of hesitation, you decide it’s safe enough to kiss along his collarbone, and so you do. While you don’t doubt he has enough strength for round two, it seems possible that tonight he would allow you a moment of intimacy deeper than that. Still he tenses a little, a reflex. It always happens if your touch grows soft and caring. There is a progress nonetheless - to start with, he no longer threatens to break your arm if you touch him like that.
He scoffs in response to your question. 
“I have the perfect little toy next to me. We had an amazing sex and now I get to keep you like this,” he squeezes you tighter, “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t be happy?”
Toy, huh? You haven’t heard that one in a while. Maybe he wanted to remind you. Or himself, who knows.
You smile against his skin. Deciding not to burst the bubble of serenity by reminding him that there’s no guarantee either of you would survive tomorrow, you just keep kissing down to his shoulder.
“There might be,” you murmur, concealing the amused teasing as best as you can behind a serious tone. It’s easy to trick Niragi like that. He likes to jump to conclusions when it comes to your relationship. Insecure enough to expect you to turn your back on him even if it’d cost you your life at the very least.
“Like?” he tenses further under your touch, trying to push you away to look at you. Fortunately he controls his strength and you manage to stay snuggled against him by hugging him tightly.
“Hmm… well, you’re not the one cuddling with the hottest and deadliest man at the Beach. And you don’t get to kiss him,” you demonstrate by tracing your lips back up to his neck, “and touch him,” now that he’s calmed down you can once again stroke across his back and sides, “and tell him that you love him very much.” 
Your mouth follows the outline of his windpipe, kissing up his neck to his lips, to which you’re so generously granted access. The tension remains in his muscles. It was to be expected. Soft praise and attention always make him uncomfortable, confessions of feelings even more so. And he knows no way of reacting to that feeling other than violence and threats. Fortunately it seems like he’s finally understood that you won’t tolerate that kind of behavior towards you.
“Careful,” Niragi warns instead. It isn’t soft, not exactly, but you appreciate the effort he put into making the word not seem like a threat.
You smile into the kiss when he connects your lips again. It’s the slow kind of kiss that you love, lips melting together, tongues sliding against each other languidly. You play with the ball that pierces his flesh, careful not to hurt him despite the wound being long healed.
“Why?” you whisper as you pull away for air. You see the way his jaw clenches just as he notices the spark of uncertainty in your eyes. He tries his best to relax again.
“I don’t want to hurt you tonight,” he whispers back after a moment of consideration. A thought crosses your mind, wondering just how fucked up your life has gotten that you actually consider it a sweet sentiment. He’s looking straight into your eyes as if searching for approval. You wonder if anyone’s ever seen him like that.
“I appreciate that,” you hum softly, reaching out to play with his hair as you kiss the corner of his mouth. Every moment with him really feels like living with a wild tiger. You can never be entirely sure that he won’t take your life in the next second. All it would take is one little misstep.
Perhaps you like the danger, crave it even on some unconscious level. That’s the only explanation you have for staying with him this long. Even as you tangle your fingers into his hair, combing through it with care, you think of the wild beasts you’ve encountered in the various games.
His eyes are closed. You have a theory that it’s so that you can’t read them. Yet it’s obvious Niragi’s going through some internal war. As you stroke his hair, running your hands through it carefully and massage his scalp, you think that just maybe he’s getting used to it. Used to this kind of touch that leaves behind comfort instead of pain.
He’s never told you about his past but it’s not exactly hard to guess it couldn’t have been easy. Or maybe you just want to believe his actions and behavior could be if not justified or excused then at the very least explained by the conditions that shaped him.
Thinking about the ancient history, the old world, your hands find their way to his face.
It comes as a surprise to you that you’ve never thought of wrapping them around his neck instead.
One of your hands slides down to his cheek, tenderly cupping it, while the other strokes above his eyebrow. Eventually your finger bumps into the metal ball there. It’s a strange contrast. While the one in his mouth is nice and warm, this one is cold, chilled by the midnight air. You smile a little and he must have heard it because he asks you what’s so funny - you tell him. He shakes his head.
“You’re the only person who would wonder about that, you know?” Niragi kisses your forehead. You smile, surprised that he hasn’t yet told you to stop. Maybe this is a test. You feel like you’ve already tested his patience a lot tonight with all your gentle touches. It makes you feel strangely proud of him and grateful to Niragi that he accepted as much of your love as he did tonight. 
But you can’t tell him that. If you told him you noticed the progress, the little changes so that your relationship at least resembles something healthy, he would cover back behind his walls, throwing all the progress out the window in the process.
You decide to push your luck instead. There’s something you wanted to do while you had the chance. Shifting higher so you’d reach his ear, you begin kissing a path from his lips across his jaw. Occasionally sucking on his skin, you make your way to his ear. The increasing strength of his hold on you does not go unnoticed. You bite his earlobe lightly.
“It’s true, even if you don’t like it. Even if you don’t feel the same way. I love you,” you squeeze his shoulder. A sign that you’re done for today. That you’re ready to respect him as a predator and a killer rather than being respected and tolerated as his partner again. 
That little squeeze is probably enough of a reassurance that his jaw relaxes again and he sighs deeply through his nose, angry but holding it together. It’s almost adorable.
You nuzzle into his chest, an allowed and welcomed gesture. It gives him an opportunity to hold and protect you through the night. Besides, with an ear pressed against his heart, you can pretend it’s beating so fast because he’s feeling a whole different emotion than fury.
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
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I really really really love UNSTABLE 😍 can you please write a drabble where the ship enters a really cold place in the galaxy and OC goes to Jungkook for some body heat since her blankets aren't helping her and he cuddles her in the end? 👉👈 only if you want to, of course.
I'm so in love with your writing. ♥️♥️♥️
Thanks for accepting your veggies noni :( ♡
-> Masterlist
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Cryon is a part of the galaxy that's known for its cold temperatures, due to the lack of intergalactic travel and planets.
And Jungkook is a member of an Alien species which tolerates the cold very well- body heat compensating for even the coldest climates, almost like a reptile. So you're jot even very surprised when he doesn't seem to have any kind of heating unit installed on the ship- temperatures so cold you can't find rest even under all of your blankets.
Fuck it. You don't care if he's gonna deny you or think you're stupid- maybe he'd at least arrange some space under his desk or something where the heat from the control unit's Servers would provide some comfort for you.
The door hisses open, and Jungkook does a double take, unable to mask his amusement as the corners of his lips twitch, brows furrowed in confusion while his eyes have a surprised hue to them. "Do you need something?" He asks, surprised to find you up at all considering you sleep quite a lot.
At least to him. He doesn't need eight full hours of rest like you do, after all.
"Its cold." You say, walking closer with your blankets wrapped around you. He nods, as if you've just said that the walls of his ship are made of metal.
"I'm aware." He answers, leaning back in his chair.
"Its too cold.!" You huff, your breath slightly fogging in the coldness of the ship.
Oh. Right.
"Ah, I see.." he mumbles to himself, checking the temperature of the ship, before he scratches the back of his neck, at a loss of solutions. The ship isn't really equipped with a full on temperature control system- it's too old for that. He could probably install one in the future- but right now, he's got nothing. "Hm, I didn't think about that. Do the blankets not work?" He asks, and you shake your head, having pulled the fabric up over your mouth.
He can't help but think that you look almost.. cute. All wrapped up in blankets he provided- you'd probably appreciate a good lair with pelts and-
Wait. No. What the hell is he thinking? It's not even mating season yet- so why are his thoughts so odd lately?
"Can I sleep on the server units, maybe?" You wonder, nodding towards the tall boxes. Jungkook cringes a bit. The chance of you getting hurt on those is too high- what if you turn in your sleep and fall off? Or what if the blankets slip and you burn yourself on the metal casing?
"Come here." He waves you closer, before he zips open his uniform jacket, a simple black sleeveless shirt underneath. You can even see some tattoos on his skin peeking out.
He pats his chest, and you're confused.
He rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue.
"My God, just get over here." He growls annoyed, unraveling your blankets before he manhandles you to somewhat sit on his lap, pushing your shoulder so you're resting against his chest. He then moves the blankets over you and him, both of them, before he pushes your thighs a little before adjusting his own legs. "There. Warm?" He asks, and you're caught off guard for a good second.
He is warm. He also.. smells really good, for some odd reason. And his heartbeat sounds kind of odd, one louder beat with another, softer sounding one like an echo. But it's almost comforting, the steady tact of his heart beating in his chest providing almost more comfort than his warmth.
So you nod, before you adjust yourself a but, finally settling in a somewhat hug-
And he can't deny the appeal of it. You're a nice weight against his body, making him a little sleepy now as well, as he yawns, turning on the autopilot.
Maybe he won't invest in a temperature control system.
Maybe this is a way better solution.
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benedictscanvas · 11 months
Text
pick me up at seven - roy kent x reader
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pairing: roy kent x fem!reader
word count: 3.1k (they won't all be this long i don't think!!)
warnings: language of course, and this is a little steamy but with no actual smut. my favourite genre HA
request: I can’t find any good Roy fics until your recent one and I’m dying for more 😭 Anyway you could write something else for him? Maybe they’re at a bar and he gets pissed when he sees Jamie flirting w her? (Not a pre established relationship) - @kashee-h
a/n: your wish is my demand!! i'm so happy you enjoyed the first roy fic of what i hope are many to come. this one totally got away from me, i loved writing it so so much, thanks for a request that I really got to make my own! <3
---
Roy is the one who’s invited you here. Roy is the one who trekked over to your office at the end of the working day and told you that everyone was going out that evening. Roy is the one who suggested you come, even when you seemed reluctant to join in on what appeared to be an evening for just the players and the coaches. Roy is the one who convinced you that it would be fun, that he’d make sure of it.
All of this is making it very hard for Roy to accept that you are currently sat in a corner booth with someone else. The fact that the person you seemed to be having such an in depth conversation with was Jamie fucking Tartt was the icing on a very shit cake.
He knew he could be having a better night than just sitting on a barstool trying not to watch the two of you, especially when Ted and Beard arrived to get the next round and he didn’t even acknowledge them. They’d hired out a private room, so it was filled with people he generally tolerated the company, some he’d even go as far as to say that he liked. None of that was registering, however. 
Jamie leans in when you can’t hear something he’s said and he watches you nod solemnly, duck your head to stare at the floor as if flustered, and he wants to walk right out that door and never come back. Maybe he could get a job at Chelsea, or something.
“Now, what’s wrong, Jeremy Strong?” Ted asks, and Roy has to bite back a ‘fuck off’ so hard he wonders if his lip is bleeding, “You look just about ready to start wreckin’ the place.”
Out of the corner of Roy’s eye, he sees Beard lean in to whisper in Ted’s ear and points over at you. Ted looks surprised. Roy does not want to deal with this.
“You’re telling’ me our very own Mr Kent has his eyes on our very own Miss Y/L/N? Well, that’s just great! She’s sweet as anythin’, good for you, Roy.”
“She’s sweet on Jamie fucking Tartt, more like,” he says, even though he knows he’s being so fucking unfair. He hates it about himself. He knows how hard he’s worked on these feelings, on frustration and anger and jealousy, knows that a few years ago he’d be getting ready to fight Jamie down an alley further through tonight. Now he’s done that work, however, he can recognise the overriding feeling that he’s actually just hurt and that’s so much worse. It’s much easier to be jealous than upset.
“Does this call for an impromptu meeting of the Diamond Dogs?” Ted asks brightly and Roy is only able to stop him after his second howl. Higgins has looked over briefly but Beard signals him to stay where he is.
“Fuck no,” Roy blurts out, then reconsiders. Maybe he could at least talk to Ted, “I just- I was going to tell her. Tonight.”
“Tell her what?” Ted’s doing that thing where he bats his eyelashes like he’s in some sort of rom-com. Beard’s got his head resting in his hand, looking similarly up at Roy. They’re insufferable. 
“That I fucking like her, okay? Take those fucking looks off your faces.”
Ted and Beard scramble to look normal but come up short. Ted’s got the awful kind of shit-eating grin on his face that he gets when he sees Sam and Jamie hugging or watches Isaac doing his handshakes with everyone before a game.
“So, you’ve been spending time together? Or are you telling her out of the blue?” Beard pipes up.
Roy thinks that over. You’ve been spending a lot of time together actually. More than anyone at the club would probably even believe. He slips away to your office to eat lunch under the guise of needing a break from the American Circus downstairs. You text him when you’ve brought in ice cream because you know he’ll never say no to ice cream. You’ve met Phoebe. That one was by accident in the park, but you stuck around for four fucking hours and nobody made you.
Still, he wonders whether it would be completely shocking to you or whether you’ve been waiting for him to make a proper move. You’re incredibly difficult to read alongside being so stupidly pretty that sometimes he wants to swear less around you. He doesn’t manage it, of course, but he thinks it.
“Yes, we’ve spent time together. No, I don’t know what that means. Probably doesn’t mean shit to her, not that it would be her fault if she doesn't.”
Ted and Beard tilt their heads simultaneously at him and he wishes he could bash their heads together for a moment.
“But it means somethin’ to you, hey coach? I don’t think Miss Y/N sittin’ with Jamie should stop you from tellin' her how you feel about ‘er, hey coach?”
Roy’s lost track of which coach Ted is even talking to, but Beard chimes in.
“Surely her spending time with Jamie should be all the more incentive to tell her. Find out how she feels. Get that crushing disappointment out of the way now. It’s only downhill from here.”
Roy raises a brow at him as Ted gives him a look. Beard sighs, then picks up his drink and seems to disappear. Ted leans into Roy.
“Him and Jane are on a break again, I’m sorry. Look I’m goin’ to have to go find him but he was right, until he wasn’t. Go get ‘er, Ross Gellar!”
And with that, Ted’s gone too, weaving his way through crowds of people until he’s lost to them. When Roy glances back in your direction, Jamie’s got Colin and Isaac beside him instead and you’re nowhere to be found. He sighs and stands from his barstool, making his way to the exit. Maybe he’d think about what Ted and Beard had said tomorrow: for now, he just wanted to go home.
Except for the fact that when he finally managed to push his way outside to breathe in some fresh air, he found you. Leaning against the wall of the club, with definite tears in your eyes, even under the dim street lamp light. He was going to murder Jamie Tartt, slowly, with rope and paint and suffering involved.
But he knew to take a slightly softer approach with you. If at all possible.
“Hey,” he says quietly, trying not to startle you. You're quick to look up at him, startled anyway, and he grits his teeth as he asks, “Are you alright?”
He doesn’t make any comment about what the fuck Jamie had done to you. Doesn’t think it would be received all that well. Again, he’s biting the inside of his lip harder than ever.
“Yes! Oh god, yes, sorry,” you’re blinking furiously. He admires your resolve when the nearly teary face is quickly replaced by that bright smile that makes him weaker in the knees than he already is, “Fuck, sorry. I’m all good. I’m not sure this is my scene, I was just going to call a taxi.”
There’s an opening. He’ll be damned if he’s not taking it, even though confessing anything is the furthest idea from his mind - he’s much more focused on making sure you’re okay and nobody’s done anything to hurt you. If they have, he's already resigned to a short stint in jail if necessary.
“Do you want to walk?”
“Uh, I mean not really. It’s quite late, so…”
“With me, I mean,” he quickly clarified, wanting to bash his head against the brick wall, “I could walk you home, if you wanted. Or not. That’s fine too.”
“Oh, right,” you’re looking down at your feet as you contemplate it, “That would be nice, if you’re sure. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he insists, falling into step beside you as you begin to walk. He wants to give you his jacket and maybe his shirt too with the way you’re shivering, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s a fucking coward, but he will get to the bottom of what’s the matter if its the last thing he does, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?”
You huff out a frustrated sigh, at him, at yourself, he isn’t sure.
“I made a fucking fool of myself tonight,” you say eventually, and he can’t even imagine you doing that, “I thought…god, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Everything just feels worse when its…1:30 in the morning, don’t you think?”
You’d lifted his hand to check his watch before you said the time. Again, he wanted to hold on, but he let you drop his hand and it just went limp.
“It fucking does, yeah. Don’t think you could make a fucking fool of yourself if you tried though. Not around us lot.”
Your family, he heard Ted’s voice in his head. He was not fucking saying that. To his surprise, you let out a loud bark of a laugh at his words and he was staring at the side of your face as you spoke out into the dark air.
“I thought you were coming to pick me up tonight, you know?” you began, and his heart drops to his shoes. You’re upset about him?
“What?”
“Something you said earlier, when you asked me to come. You asked where I lived, then told me it would be a twenty minute walk to get there. Then you said ‘see you at seven’.”
He could have stopped walking. He had said that, but he was just trying to help you plan out your timings for the evening - you’d mentioned to him once that you were known for having some time blindness when you were getting ready for things. Of course he should have realised how fucking stupid that was, how much that sounded like he would come and walk with you.
He would have fucking loved to walk with you.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, far too loudly for the quiet night that surrounded you. You carried on undeterred, shaking your head. He could see your frustration was at yourself now, and he hated himself even more than he had earlier.
“My fault for assuming, I know. But that’s why I was so late. And when I arrived, trying talk myself into not feeling like a twat, you were already over with Dani and Isaac and Bumbercatch, clearly never intending to come pick me up. Which, why would you, of course. I just…felt shit. Jamie tried to help, bless him, but I just wanted to go home, honestly.”
Roy is the biggest idiot on the planet. He wants to go back into the club and hug Jamie for looking after you, then ask him to punch him in the face. Roy could punch something, anything right now, but he just grits his teeth.
“I’m-” he grunts when his voice comes out all strangled, “I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N. I’m the fucking twat. I was asking where you lived and that to help you with that fucking time blindness thing you told me about. Should’ve known how it sounded though. Fucking idiot.”
He directed the last comment at himself, kicking a stone he’d found on the pavement. He kept his eyes firmly trained on his shoes as the two of you continued walking, now at a significantly slower pace. Your eyes were burning a hole in the side of his face.
There was a silence that stretched on as you stared at him, until-
“Fucking hell,” you groaned, “That’s so fucking sweet. You’re the worst.”
He doesn’t know if he can remember being called sweet before. Phoebe was often excessively complimentary of him in a way that made him uncomfortable, but sweet had never come up. He didn’t feel sweet.
“I am the worst,” he grunted, spiralling, “Making you feel so shit. Ruining your fucking night. I was the one who convinced you in the first place and now you’ve had a shit fucking time and I’m the worst.”
He’s a little out of breath and loud again by the end of his rant. The two of you have stopped walking. You kick the toe of your heel against his shoe, placating.
“No, you’re the worst ‘cause you keep giving me all this hope. I fucking hate hope, no matter what Ted says,” you chuckle to yourself, and he’s not sure what you’re saying but he’s peering into your now smiling expression as he tries to work it out, “Look, do you like me or not? You’re a good guy Roy and either way, I’m grateful that you’re walking me home. I just think if I ask, maybe I can just feel like a twat for the night and get it over with by tomorrow.”
“Do I…like you?”
He sounds thick. He feels thick. Feels like his mouth is full of honey that his tongue is having to wade through to even speak to you. It’s stuck to the bottom of his mouth, heavy.
“Yeah. As in, do you just enjoy eating lunch with me or do you ever look at me and just want to kiss me? Cause I do that all the fucking time, Roy, but I can’t be arsed to dance around it anymore.”
You look really tired as you stare up at him, but he feels more energised than ever. You’ve both just established that he’s the absolute worst, and yet here he is, with everything he could’ve wanted right in front of him. You, looking fucking gorgeous and looking at him like that? Even getting a job at Chelsea wouldn’t help him against you - he was gone.
There’s a smirk on his face that he can’t bite back as he takes your face in both his hands and revels in the gasp he can pull from you. He should have known you’d be the first to say something. You weren’t the coward he was.
“Let’s not fuck about then, yeah?”
Low and breathy. You respond with a nod so eager that he’s practically grinning when he pulls you in. It’s quickly replaced by a hunger he’s been keeping at bay, allowing his hands to slide into your hair as he deepens the kiss almost as soon as it’s started. He can feel your hands clutching at the lapels on his jacket, but he’s more excited when you throw your arms around his neck instead, tugging on the hair at the base of his head.
He growls and you actually whimper. It’s like he’s been set on fucking fire. Like he’s been struck by lightning.
When he pulls away for air, you stay close, peppering kisses along the scruff of his jaw, up the side of his face and back down again. He holds you to him tightly around your waist and feels wanted. He’s wanted you for so long, but to be wanted in return, so openly, it’s both hot and meaningful. He’s not sure anyone’s ever told him they liked him before. Most models he’d dated were pretty sold on the idea that he had to make all the moves.
Still, when you begin trailing kisses down his neck and there’s a hand on the top button of his shirt, he has enough sense about him to stop you. Even if he really doesn’t want to.
“I don’t know what street this is,” he breathes out, low voice little more than a rumble, “But maybe we don't give your neighbours a fucking show.”
You look thoroughly kissed when you look back at him, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever be enough. He leans in to kiss you once more to punctuate his sentence, watching as you duck your head, all shy, even though your arms are still around him. He knows now that when you ducked your head with Jamie, you were embarrassed. This is you properly flustered and it’s one of his favourite looks on you.
“Good call, yeah. Okay. I’m- I’m just around this corner, I think.”
“You think?”
“Shut up, you,” you whack him lightly on the shoulder, as the two of you resume walking, “Think you can make it all the way there?”
“I’d carry you if my knee wasn’t fucked,” he admits, watching you with a lopsided smile, “Really fucking like you, by the way. If that wasn’t proof. Thought you should hear me fucking say it.”
You close your eyes in a little half laugh - giddy, he thinks. 
“Well, I did wonder. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few weeks for someone who doesn’t like spending time with people.”
“Your first clue,” he agrees, taking your hand with pride now as the two of you keep walking, turning the corner towards your house. The pace is a lot quicker than it was before. He hopes he knows why, “I’ll be less of a fucking idiot now. Promise.”
“Eh, don’t worry,” you shrug, letting go of his hand only to thread your arm through his and take hold of his hand again, even tighter, “Nothing sexier than fucking idiots. I like my men with no thoughts behind their eyes.”
He properly laughs at that, head tilted back, feeling your head against his arm as you laugh with him. You slow down, gesturing left. Your house. The two of you walk down the drive until you’re at the door, face to face again and Roy is having a small internal battle.
“Look, I know you said no show for the neighbours,” you begin, almost nervously, “But does that mean a…private show is totally off the table too?”
He watches you picking at your nails. Can’t help it. He pulls you in for another breathless kiss, just to watch you come alive again, confident and fucking into him, however much of a miracle it seems. You pull away this time, clearly keen for an answer, but he groans.
“Tryin’ to be a fucking gentleman, here. Why don’t we do dinner tomorrow? Proper date. And I’ll fucking pick you up.”
You giggle. Still, there’s a glint in your eyes, as you sigh melodramatically.
“That does sound nice. Only thing is, there could be an intruder in here, you know? So, and I’ll only ask once more and then I promise I’ll let you go if you say no, but maybe you should walk me to my bedroom? To make sure I’m safe, you know? And then you can pay for my breakfast in the morning like a good old fashioned gentleman, if you want.”
You’re looking up at him, all hopeful again. His resolve is dwindling. You spin your keys around one finger and its a simple gesture, but it’s the final straw.
“I’m paying for your fucking lunch too,” he growls, diving into you once again. He’s beside himself when he hears you mutter a faint ‘thank fuck’ as you fumble to unlock the door and all but drag him inside.
---
if you've read this far, i fucking love you, you beautiful sunflower <3 requests open for this angry man and his favourite jamie tartt if you're interested!!
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dr3c0mix · 8 months
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Heyo! Hope you're doing alright! Firstly, sorry if this is too long... summary: yan oc reactions to male/gn reader with a high pain tolerance whose platonic affection language is rough housing (biting , headbutts, body slams/shoulder bumps, aggressive bear hugs, or a good grip/squeeze. All of these forms of affection are done by reader with as much force as is allowed without actual damage and which reader happily reciprocates). Bonus, what're the reactions of rough housing intolerant yans when said reader starts trying to find someone else as an outlet for this affection need. Context: I saw the mini react to the affectionate chair wielding and had a thought. I am a very energetic and affectionate individual with folks I'm close with, and often times a gentle hug or soft touch just isn't enough to get across the energy and emotion or i just NEED something more grounding/comforting cause "yes this gentle hug is comforting my stress a little but i really REALLY need you to crush my soul and being back together with this next hug. Really trash compactor my body so i can feel whole again :) 💪". It's what i grew up with and what some of my friends encouraged/reciprocated (have definitely popped backs when giving each other hugs and once i popped someone's fingers when i was allowed a good squeeze). When soft affections aren't hitting right (and i have permission from my friend) I tend to turn to play bites (at whatever maximum safe pressure is allowed by the person being bitten), headbutts, body slams/shoulder bumps (again, at a maximum safe force that is allowed), and harsh grips/hugs (again, whatever maximum safe force is allowed). It's really a grounding/comforting thing cause it allows me and my friend to destress, release energy, and also kinda reassures us that we're truly physically and emotionally there. It's definitely not something for all my friend circles and i usually turn to my high energy friend circles that have similar needs (and they come to me if they feel the urge as well). A good example is the time Friend A saw me out and about, shouted out my name and charged me full speed from 30 feet away. I tanked the brunt of their full body affectionate tackle and honestly? Was one of the happiest and closest i felt to my friend. Haven't done that in a while cause we got warned not to do that again by personnel lol. We usually try to meet up at parks (cause indoor places understandably don't like when a group of adults start rough housing) though it's hard to rn cause of the heat and stuff
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OCs w/ a Rowdy Darling
My OCs x GN Reader
THIS IS LITERALLY AMAZING !! you seem like a really cool person to hang out with ! id definitely let you give me a back popping hug >w< not sure if im strong enough to give you a hug as strong as that though hehe ^^" anyways heres the fic ! (´ ∀ ` *)
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Adrian is literally the same as you. Every shove or punch or rough housing is a sign of affection.
You two probably rough house all the time ngl, and he loves it!
You're his energetic little lover and he's all for it!
You two might have gone to detention for rough housing to hard a few times hehe..
If you bear hug him, he'll try to hug you harder, it's like a competition to him!
Honestly, he sees everything as a competition. You push him playfully? He'll push you harder.. headbutts? You might get a slight headache after he's done..
He might be your boyfriend, but he's still a bit of a bully, but it's all in good fun! He stops if ever he notices you're getting uncomfy.
Not a biter though, but when you do it, he melts like putty!
He loves how strong and rowdy you are and that you're not afraid to express it, it shows how tough and confident you are!
He likes his gentle moments once in a while, but being able to love you in a love language you both share is so special to him <3
"Cmon babe! One more hug! I can take it!"
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Brandon is kind of impressed..
He's one of the best football players in his school and his little darling is biting and shoving and headbutting him, so adorable!
You remind him of a little goat, so excited and happy and lively!
Definitely makes him more protective of you because of how precious you are to him.
If you get to rowdy for his liking, he grabs you and traps you in a bear hug until you calm down or if you give him an even tighter bear hug than the one he's giving you.
Invites you to play a bit of football with him and his team.
But protection is key! He wraps you in all sorts of gear before you play, he knows how high your pain tolerance is but he still wants to keep you safe! and also he likes seeing you wear his helmet
Your body slams are praised not just by him but by his team, it's too cute!
If he catches you being your little rowdy self around anyone else, he'll get jealous fast..
He shoves you affectionately to get your attention.
"Heya baby! How's my little ram doing huh?"
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Valeth just thinks you're copying him in a way and is flattered.
Aweee, little mate is so strong and tough! He's so proud!
Encourages the behavior, as long as you don't hurt yourself!
He's much stronger than you so your affections don't do much, but you bet your ass he's putting his whole soul in pretending to get hurt.
Rough houses with you as if you were a little child play fighting, he loves playing with his little warrior!
If you do get hurt, he's putting all play fighting to a halt! He's checking up on you and making sure you're ok with the softest voice you've ever heard from an orc.
You might be fine but he's not taking no for an answer, you're getting some rest!
Love love loves your bearhugs! He tests your strength and lets you squeeze him as hard as you can!
Biting is met with kisses all over your face, it's what you get for being so cute!
Body slams are more like you latching onto him and trying not to fall off because of how large he is..
"Oh my little duckling can bite! How fierce! You're so strong haha!"
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Bo appreciates how energetic and lively you are, but please no rough housing ;-;
He doesn't want you to get hurt or hurt anyone else, even though you're perfectly capable of regulating how rough you can me, he's just a lil protective is all
He only allows bear hugs and squeezes, anything else is greeted by the time out corner (him trapping you in his arms in the bed until you give up)
"Now now hun, not so rough ok? I don't want you gettin banged up or anythin.."
Ribs is also a feral little man and absolutely loves that you're as rowdy as him!
You two love play fighting and biting affectionately!
He loves your headbutts! he returns them all the time
"Ahahaha! Again again!"
Soda tolerates it, he just appreciates that you're comfortable enough to rough house with him.
He's not the energetic type but he'll give you sleepy kisses and squeeze you back if you bear hug him
Doesn't bite but he likes nibbling on you
He's not as lively as you, but he loves reciprocating your affection!
"You're so strong hehe~"
Screw is scared
He is oddly aroused
He's also hopelessly trying to stop himself from called you sir or daddy or any dominant title because oh my god you are so awesome
He's looking at you with puppy dog eyes asking for your love and attention
PICK HIM UP TOSS HIM AROUND SHOVE HIM BITE HIM PLEASE HE LOVES IT!
Imagine him kicking his legs and rambling about you to the others
"H-hello si- dadd- (Y/N)! Hi (Y/N) heheh.."
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Wolfie loves how rowdy you are! he loves playing!
That's his way of telling you he loves you, but of course he's extra gentle when playing with you, he wouldn't wanna get his mate scratched up!
Loves rolling around and playing around with you, it makes him feel like a pup again!
Doesn't like you biting him though, you might get something icky in your mouth!
Licks you all over if you get hurt or get a little too rough to make you feel better!
Headbutts are rewarded with his big paws bopping you on the head like he's trying to pet you!
If he's tired and you're being your lively little self, he just takes you and sleeps on top of you so you can't escape.
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Dorik actually has a lot of brothers and sisters back in hell and you remind him so much of how they used to play around with him.
As much as he adores cuddling you close and doing gentle and calm things with you, he loves how tough you are!
Yes he moans when you bite him.
Everytime you're affectionate with him, he can't help but kiss you all over, you're just so cute!
Almost cries if you give him bear hugs, this man is touchstarved!!!!
He gives you his own love by wrapping his tail around you or rubbing his face into your clothes, chest, hair, anywhere! He loves how you smell so good everyday!
Shrieks if you body slam him, but somehow he's as solid as a rock, he didn't even stumble..
But he's all over you asking if you're ok.
"Master? My love? My darling are you alright?!"
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Kalva unfortunately doesn't like rough-housing, he's made it a rule that you can only mess around outside the nest!
But he adores your bearhugs and headbutts and bites, they're comforting to him in a way, it shows that you're close to him!
He headbutts you too, it's his way of asking for your love and attention.
For a while it was also how he kissed you since he didn't know how to do it properly yet.
He might indulge in your rough ways sometimes by jumping around and messing up his feathers on purpose, but you should promise to help preen them afterwards!
Nevertheless, he loves you to bits and just wants to keep you safe <3
"My mate is so excited! My mate is happy!"
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Jasper is scared for his life but in a fun way.
He never knows the next time you're gonna bite him or tackle him into a hug, it's like a game for you both.
He gets you back by surprise tickling you, it's pretty effective.
If he expects the biting, he definitely bites you too, kissing the area right after for extra measure.
Don't get me wrong he's absolutely flustered whenever you do it, but he gets used to it after a while.
But no rough-housing with him! He's fragile and might break something.
Legit asks you to crack his back if ever he's having back aches.
"Hey love, my back's a little weird again, can I get another hug~?"
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Viktor is surprised and a little intrigued.
Oh? My darling is so energetic, I love it!
If you ever try anything on him, he chuckles and 'punishes' you with kisses all over your face and cuddles you until you give up.
Your bites kind of freak him out
Like he's supposed to bite people! It's kind of weird having people bite him, it's a bit exciting..
"My my~ Is my little bat misbehaving again~?"
Garrick doesn't tolerate roughness at all.
You might get hurt! What if one of them reciprocates the affection and goes too far? He's not having it!
That is until you do it to him and he absolutely melts at your cuteness.
He goes from strict to 100% on board with your love bops
Refuses to bear hug you, he might break your spine because of how much he loves you!
"Remember to be careful my turtledove! And I love you!"
Silas is all in on your rowdiness, considering he's like that himself.
He's a mischievous little shit and loves play fighting with you.
Loves picking you up and spinning you around, making you hold onto him as you two giggle like young lovers together.
Always does this thing where he cups your face and shakes your head side to side, he says its because you're too cute and your face must be a mask because no one is that perfect!
Gives you gentle and soft kisses after your rough moments because he wants to make sure he didn't hurt you. He feels the need to remind you always how much you mean to him and how happy you make him feel.
"My little owl, so cute, so adorable~ I'll never leave you Darling~"
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Baron tries his best to keep you calm but you're just to fuckin adorable!
He's a cold hard assassin! Why is he smiling over weak little attempts to hurt him?!
Scolds you for rough housing but his heart breaks if you pout or if he hurts your feelings
Immediately says sorry and holds your hand tight to show he still loves you, he just doesn't wanna see you potentially hurt yourself.
If you're rough with anyone else, he's pulling you off and dragging you away whilst holding you in the tightest bear hug, his actions screaming out 'you're mine!'
Of course he denies it all, saying excuses like 'what if they think you wanna pick a fight?'
But you know he's just jealous that you're not giving him that attention.
Still doesn't tolerate bodyslams or bites but bear hugs, headbutts and squeezing his hand are highly appreciated. Highly
"How about we settle down now boss hm~? I'll run you a nice hot bath if you'd like~"
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Caspian is a wimpy little bitch and gets upset if you play fight with him.
He'll start whining for you to stop but like also whine if you stop giving him attention. (little shit)
Lives for your bear hugs! SQUEEZE HIM HARDER PLEASE!!!
Headbutts make him dizzy and otherwise just confused but he appreciates it and thinks you're trying to kiss him.
He'll pull you close and show you what a real kiss is like~
Bite him and he's flustered.
Like about to have a stroke and can't form a complete sentence flustered.
"Ohohoh~ Oh my~ H-how fascinating~!"
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Hallow loves playing! Wait what are you doi-
Gets the message (i think) and starts to play fight with you too, chasing you around the house and wrapping you up in his long arms to tickle you all over!
Pretends to be a scary monster and nuzzles his face into you once he catches you, imitating eating. That's what you get for trying to fight the big spooky Hallow!
Your headbutts and affections make him so happy he starts jingling from how much he's trying to hold back.
He loves roughing you up a bit too, but his little bops aren't so strong since he's made of cotton and love <3 <3 <3
If you're getting a bit too rough, he wraps you up and kisses you softly before letting you go once you calm down.
"You tired from lovin on me all day sweetie~? It's alright, I got a looooootta lovin left for you~!"
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Ashvan is terrified!
On one hand eeeeee so cute! He wants to return your affections so bad!!!
But also you might die???
He's a big guy, and he's aware of his size and strength, so he's pretty wary on how he handles you.
You're like a little porcelain doll to him! He'd be so sad if anything happened to you just because he wanted to express his love to you!
He loves your bops, but giving you a warm smile and a kiss is all he can do really.
He makes up for it in giving you gifts, helping around the infirmary, cuddling you at night, the little things.
He wished he was more gentle so he can do the things you do to him! He so wishes to hug you as hard as he can!
"S-so cute...I-I mean so uhm..strong and fierce haha! So not adorable and precious in every way possible! Yeah.."
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joyful-enchantress · 1 year
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On the Naughty List (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader
banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn
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A/N: Everyone has been so welcoming and kind and encouraging with my first fic that I decided to try my hand at another one! This is also my first try with smut, so apologies if it is awkward at all. I hope you like it! It is another installment in the Winter Warmers Collection curated by @lokisgoodgirl
Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), soft(ish) Dom!Loki, here be filth, some fluff too, established relationship, language, restraints, spanking, nipple play (clamps), temperature play, edging/orgasm delay, begging, oral f!receiving, choking (if you squint)
Word Count: 4377
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"Stop, Loki! Ahhhhh, stop, please!" you shrieked wildly as Loki playfully but mercilessly pelted you with icy snowballs.
You loved seeing him like this, completely lost in a moment of carefree fun. His eyes were alight with that familiar glint of mischief and the midday rays reflecting off the surrounding snow seemed to dance across his porcelain skin. He was beautiful. And he was yours. An arrogant smile slowly melted into his features as he responded to your request for a ceasefire.
"What's the matter, darling? Can't handle everything I have to offer?" he quipped with a wink.
Damn him and his relentless innuendo. A slight blush crept across your cheeks at his words.
"Oh, I know I can handle all of you, Laufeyson. I've done it many times before," you decided to give it right back to him. "What I can't handle is any more snowballs to the face or soaking through my coat. Not all of us have an endless tolerance for cold, you know!"
Given Loki's heritage, he required no protective outerwear during your childish winter antics. Not that you truly minded -- it meant you got to enjoy a better view of those sinful hands of his, the long, elegant fingers flexing dexterously as he packed the glittering snow into nearly perfect spheres. But, perhaps, his affinity for the cold did give him an unfair advantage in this case.
"I can think of several things I could do to warm you right up, love. Things I could do with my fingers..." he twirled his delectable digits seductively and nearly had you drooling. "...or my mouth..." his skillful tongue peered through the curtains that were his luscious lips and slowly swiped along his top lip just before he smirked knowingly and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. "...or my cock."
Had the temperature suddenly risen? Your thighs clenched together involuntarily, your body already yearning for the sweet friction, and the slightest whimper escaped your lips at his salacious words.
He paced towards you, closing the distance until there was none left, and his warm breath was fanning across your neck as he bent to whisper in your ear.
"Although," he continued, "judging by your reaction thus far, I could probably keep you warm with my words alone." His voice seemed to drop an octave, and assumed that familiar huskiness that he reserved only for you in your most private moments with him. "Maybe we should test the theory, hmm? Would you like that, darling?" His tongue darted out to lick the shell of your ear.
"Yes, Loki..." you breathed, your own voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let's be done with our game and go inside. I need you."
"As you wish, my love," he placed a wet kiss along your jawline. "Follow me."
He began the short walk back to the cozy home the two of you shared, his broad back to you. The wet spots he left on your ear and jaw began to sting in the frigid winter air. You absent-mindedly reached up to soothe the ache with your gloved fingertips, and as you turned to admire the way the dark jeans he was wearing hugged his perfect ass as he strode towards the house, the temptation was too great. You simply could not resist.
THWAK!
A perfectly thrown snowball hit him in the back of the head, bursting into a flurry of snow that clung to his ebony curls and drifted down his neck and across his back.
"Oh you're in for it now, pet." He turned around, ever so slowly, his lips upturned into a menacing smile and his emerald eyes burning with the promise of what was to come.
You decided to play right into his hands.
"Have I earned a spot on the naughty list, Sir?"
He gazed back at you with a hungry expression, his pupils dilating with lust; you knew the effect that particular word had on him. He began stalking towards you, like a predator cornering his prey.
"That goes without saying, Y/N. Your misbehavior is simply unacceptable. Now, do you know what happens to naughty girls?"
He was right in front of you once again, towering over you and looking down his nose directly into your eyes.
"They don't get any presents?" you suggest with feigned innocence.
"They must be punished." he declared with such authority, it left no room for argument.
"Oh really? Just what exactly do you -- AHH!"
Before you could even finish your snarky response, he had you draped over his shoulder, your eyes staring at his perfect backside and his strong arm flexed behind your knees, holding you in place. His other hand rose up to give your unsuspecting bottom a warning smack.
"No more questions, darling. You're in enough trouble as it is."
He carried you inside, kicking off his shoes along the way, and before you knew it, he was tossing you on the plush bed like a ragdoll. The deep emerald-colored satin sheets twisted in your fingertips as you stared up, wide-eyed, at your husband; gone from his face was the carefree playfulness and in its place was a stern demeanor. There was no question who was in charge here. And you loved it.
With a snap of his fingers, a blanket of green light engulfed your body and every scrap of clothing you had been wearing disappeared. Loki, still fully clothed, hovered over you, caging you in and bringing his face within inches of yours.
"Now let's go over the rules, shall we?" he trailed, his voice dripping with lust and power, "Rule number one, you will refer to me only as Sir. You will not call me by my name unless and until I command it. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir," you gasped, barely audible over the hammering of your own heart.
"Good girl." He reached a hand down and began stroking your breast, eventually rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Rule number two, you will do as I say, without question or hesitation. I do not like to repeat myself. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, Sir," you barely suppressed a moan.
"And finally, rule number three..." You whimpered as he tweaked your nipple, hard. "...You do not come until I give you my express permission. I decide whether and when you will have your pleasure, isn’t that right, pet?” his lips curved into a wicked grin as he finished reminding you of the last rule.
“O-of course, Sir,” you gulped, anxiously and eagerly awaiting his next move.
"Now, do you remember your safe word, darling?" his eyes momentarily softened as he asked you, ever your loving and devoted husband, making sure you knew you were safe and loved.
"Yes, Sir. Red," you assured him with a breathy whisper.
"Good." The fleeting moment of softness had passed, his expression shifting back to one of unrelenting dominance, emerald eyes alight with thoughts of the diabolical plans he had for you. "Let's begin."
His hand rose from your breast up over your collarbone to its final destination around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze as he captured your lips in a ferocious kiss; it was all tongues and teeth as he invaded your mouth, claiming what was his with urgency. Eventually, he allowed you to catch your breath and he trailed his lips down your jawline, to suck and nip at your pulse point as you lay there panting.
"I want you to kneel on the bed, facing the headboard." he rasped against your ear before rising up off the bed to allow you the room to move into position.
You wasted no time, scrambling up so you could obey him and avoid furthering your punishment. As you were twisting around and adjusting yourself into the perfect submissive kneel, you caught a glimpse of him removing his dark emerald sweater, leaving him in the white button-down he was wearing underneath, those damn dark wash jeans, and his socked feet.
He leisurely strode towards the head of the bed and turned to face you, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and beginning to roll up the sleeves to his elbows. You bit your lip, the sight of his forearms flexing as he manhandled the garment enough to send a fresh pool of arousal to your core.
"Hands in front of you, wrists together," he commanded.
As you did so, he conjured a bit of black silken cord -- enough to bind your wrists together tightly while leaving some extra hanging on either side of the intricate knot. Once he was satisfied that the rope would keep you sufficiently restrained, he turned to reach into the nightstand where you kept your toys for nights such as this. You could hear the familiar metallic clink of chains bumping into each other as he pulled a toy out of the drawer. The clamps.
"We haven't played with these in a while, pet," he said with a devilish snarl. "I want you to feel them sway and tug every time I strike that perfect ass of yours."
You couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips at his words. "As you wish, Sir."
He worked your nipples into firm peaks before attaching the clamps to them. You hissed as they bit into your sensitive flesh, providing an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. Before you could fully adjust to the sensation, he was pulling on the extra cord that was hanging from your bound wrists and tying it to the top of the headboard. This forced you to bend forward, head between your arms, ass raised slightly - and presented perfectly - as you remained on your knees. The chain that connected the clamps swayed with your movement, tugging on your sore nipples with each sweeping arc, causing you to moan wantonly.
"Hmmm,” he hummed in approval as he situated himself beside you on the bed, one hand at the small of your back - a reminder to remain in position - the other rubbing and squeezing your bottom, the gentleness a stark contrast to the harsh stings you knew were to come. “My dirty whore of a wife seems to be enjoying herself, and I’ve barely begun,” he chuckled darkly. “You will count each strike aloud, and when I am finished, you will thank me for them. I think 10 strikes ought to do for tonight, pet. Oh, and do remember, you are not allowed to come.”
“Yes, Sir,” you groaned desperately. Before you knew it, the first strike hit your backside with a loud SMACK. Just as he had planned, the chain between your tortured nipples was swaying wildly. “One,” you squeaked.
His hand came down against your ass again, this time on the opposite cheek.
“Two, Sir.” You let out a shaky breath.
The next slap seemed to echo throughout the room.
“Ahhhh! Three, Sir!”
After the third smack, his hand caressed down your backside and his fingers dipped between your soft folds. “Ohh, love. We’re only three strikes in, and you’re absolutely soaking. Do you think you’ll make it?” he asked with feigned concern. You could do nothing but whimper in response. “Oh how I do love those pretty noises you make,” he crooned.
He resumed his work, each smack to your bottom bringing more pain than the last… and sending more arousal straight to your dripping core. After the seventh strike, he moved the hand that had been resting innocently at the small of your back to the chain that was dangling from your breasts and gave a sharp tug.
“Aaaauunnghhh! Please, Sir,” you moaned. Whether you were begging him to stop or to give you more, you didn’t know.
“Shhhhh, pet. Just three more, you’re doing so well for me.” As he soothed you with his words, he moved his hand from the chain to the apex of your thighs, and his fingers easily found your clit, peeking out from its hood and aching for attention. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, shamelessly searching for more friction. “Ah ah ahh, there will be none of that writhing, darling,” he reprimanded you gently. “You will take what I give you and nothing more.”
“Sorry, Sir, I’ll be still,” you promised with a high pitched whine.
He kept his fingers on your clit, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves as he delivered the last three smacks to your bottom. It was just enough to tease you and keep you wanting more, never enough to fully satisfy you. Your frustration was mounting at this point, but deep down you knew you shouldn’t have been so delusional as to hope he’d allow you your release so easily.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, pet?” he mercifully reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your sensitive bud, rubbing soothing circles on your ass cheeks with the same hand he just used to blister them.
“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Sir, for spanking me.” you managed to coerce your tongue into forming the words despite your frazzled brain.
“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed softly and with a snap of his fingers, the bindings disappeared and you collapsed forward onto the bed, limp and spent, but unbearably aroused. He quickly was at your side, and gently helped you to roll over onto your back. Finally, you could see his stunningly beautiful face again. His features had settled back into those of your loving husband, warmth and softness radiating from within. Stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, he bent down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent a fire straight to your core.
Loki diligently massaged your wrists and shoulders, helping to soothe the ache from your restraints; he then moved his attention to your breasts. “I’m going to remove these now, darling. One at a time. I know it will be intense but it will only last for a moment,” he whispered.
You winced and cried out as he removed each clamp, his warm mouth quick to softly caress each aching bud with his tongue and soothe the sting.
“What’s your color, Y/N?” he asked you gently, his gaze meeting yours, eyes swirling with concern and love for you — only you.
“Green, Sir. So Green.”
“Excellent.” His emerald orbs reignited with salacious promises and his lips twisted into a wicked grin. Gone again was the softness he had momentarily uncovered. “Then we’ll move into the next phase of your punishment.”
Bring it on, you thought to yourself, but all you managed outwardly was a cheeky smile.
He must have been losing patience for doing things manually, because with a flick of his wrist and a twirl of his elegant finger, more restraints appeared, securing you to the bed. This time, they were black fur-lined leather cuffs -- one around each wrist and one around each ankle. The leather straps connected to the cuffs ran across the mattress, off the sides, and under the bed, where they were secured. This ensured that you wouldn't be going anywhere, and that your legs were spread nice and wide for him; you couldn’t close them even if you wanted to. You also noted that your arms and shoulders were in a different position, not stretched over your head -- and he kept a small amount of slack so that you could adjust and rotate your shoulders if you needed to, so as not to strain your muscles to the point of pain. Your husband thought of everything.
As he strode once again to the night stand and began looking for the toy he needed for your next wave of delicious torment, you noticed his prominent manhood straining against his tight jeans, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. Your smile quickly melted away into a mixture of primal lust and shaky nerves as you saw what he pulled out of the drawer, though. The magic wand and the large glass dildo.
“Now, pet, I’ve got to go downstairs and take care of something,” he began as he set the glass dildo down on the bench at the foot of the bed, within easy reach, and clicked the wand on to the lowest setting. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than ten minutes, but I wouldn’t want you getting bored in my absence, so this should keep you occupied while I’m gone.” He placed the wand firmly against your throbbing clit and you couldn’t suppress the wanton moan that escaped your lips at the feeling. It would never be enough to give you release on this setting, it would only tease you and amplify your arousal, but damn if it didn’t feel so good. A wave of emerald light surrounded the wand, and you immediately knew he had enchanted it so that it would remain in place, no matter how much you bucked and squirmed. There was also no doubt in your mind that it would disappear immediately should you utter your safe word — the restraints, too, probably. You were always safe with him, even if he left you alone in the room to bask in the sweet torture he inflicted on you.
His hungry eyes raked over your naked body — bound and writhing — and his gaze met yours with a sinister smile before he departed the bedroom to head downstairs.
It felt like the longest ten minutes of your life. The wand was unrelenting, keeping you dangling on the edge of release, but never allowing you to fall over into bliss. No matter how you tried to grind your hips to increase the friction just enough to topple you over the edge, it was no use. Loki’s enchantment kept the wand exactly where he wanted it.
So lost were you in the sensation and the struggle for your orgasm, that you didn’t notice when he returned. That is, until the wand disappeared with a snap of his fingers, causing you to whine at the loss and open your eyes to the sight of your breathtaking husband, leaning casually against the dresser with a mug of steaming hot beverage in his hand; he was drinking in the sight of you, so desperate for the release only he could grant you. His eyes were burning with lust.
“Aren’t you going to welcome me back, pet?” he asked with a teasing smirk.
The asshole.
“Welcome back, Sir,” you managed to mutter between pants.
“That’s more like it.” He took a large gulp of the hot liquid — hot cocoa, you guessed, based on the smattering of foam the swig left on his top lip — and you watched with curiosity as he seemed to hold it in his mouth without swallowing. Setting the mug down on the bench, he picked up the glass dildo that you had all but forgotten about. Your eyes widened when you saw a tinge of blue creep across the skin of his hand, the smooth surface of the glass covered in a blanket of frost.
Without warning, he thrust the icy glass cock into your sopping cunt, the cold surface against your warm inner walls intensifying every sensation as it moved and twisted inside you. The sharp cry that rang from your throat was one of both surprise and unabashed primal lust. You saw his Adam’s apple bob sinfully as he finally swallowed the steaming liquid that was in his mouth, just before he winked at you and lowered his lips to latch around your neglected clit.
“Ohhhhh, Sir, ye- yesssss.” The stark contrast of the frigid length inside you and his warm mouth sucking and lapping at your sensitive bud was nearly too much to handle. You had enjoyed the skilled labor of your husband’s silver tongue many times before, but this was something entirely different. You could barely catch your breath, let alone form a coherent sentence.
“Mmmm…” he moaned salaciously, sending vibrations directly to your core. The familiar coil in your belly was winding tighter, threatening to snap into an earth-shattering orgasm. Just… a tiny… bit… more…
“…’m gonna come, Sir!” You whispered between whimpers and pants.
But he stopped. The frosted dildo and his mouth were both removed from your core. You whined desperately, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the loss, your impending orgasm ebbing away.
“You didn’t think you’d get release so soon, did you? Naughty girls don’t get to come so easily.” Loki’s eyes were ablaze with a ravenous hunger; you could see his lips and chin glistening with your sweet nectar, the flickering light of the candle in the corner of the room dancing across his face now, as the sun had set since the start of your debauched activities. He bent down to kiss you, his lips and tongue unrelenting against yours; you moaned at the taste of your arousal on his lips.
As he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath, you saw him refrost the glass toy and reach again for the mug to take another swig of hot cocoa into his mouth. Before you could protest, both had resumed their delectable torment, the icy tip of the dildo circling your aching clit before dipping inside you and being replaced with his hot mouth.
“Please, Sir,” you pleaded as he fucked you with the cold, hard dildo and swirled his hot tongue around your bundle of nerves. He reached one hand up to your breast, rolling and tweaking a pebbled nipple before switching to pay the same attention to the other hardened peak. Within minutes, you were there again, you could almost taste your impending orgasm. And again he stopped.
“Ohhh, pet, you taste sweeter than this cocoa,” he huskily groaned. “And look at you, so needy and desperate for me. Do you want release?” You whimpered and nodded your head as urgently as you could manage. “If you come tonight, it will be on my cock. And I want you to beg for it.”
His clothes disappeared in a flash of green light, leaving the entirety of his glorious form bare to your gaze for the first time that night. You slowly raked you eyes across every inch of him, admiring the way his lean muscles rippled and flexed underneath his perfect skin as he moved, and counting your lucky stars that he was yours.
“Please, Sir, pleeeeease give me your cock. I need it. I need you. Please make me come, Sir.” you shamelessly panted and begged, desperate for him and for the sweet release only he could give you.
He hovered over you on the bed; you could feel his rigid length against your thigh, the tip angry and red. He was just as desperate for release as you were. Bracing his weight on one forearm, he snaked the other hand across your collarbone with a featherlight touch before it settled firmly around your throat as he kissed you hungrily. So lost were you in the passion of the kiss that you barely noticed as he lined himself up at your entrance. With one perfectly angled thrust, he finally entered you, filling you to the hilt. Your breath hitched against his mouth; no matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of him ensured that the first few strokes would always take your breath away.
“You don’t have to wait any longer, darling.” He rasped against your ear as he began to thrust, rutting his hips against you with each stroke, the wiry curls at the base of his cock brushing against your clit. “Don’t hold back, and I won’t stop this time. Let yourself go and let me hear you when you topple over into bliss. Say my name as you come.”
It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the precipice, the coil at the base of your abdomen tightening almost immediately after the edging you had already endured. You were a panting, moaning mess while he worshipped you, trailing wet kisses along your neck and collarbone. His rhythm was becoming sloppier, and you knew he was close too.
“Ohhh Loki, yes, YESSS!” you gasped as the coil snapped, your inner walls squeezing him like a vice as you finally came, the earth-shattering orgasm causing your entire body to shake. “Yes, Loki. Loki…” You chanted his name like a mantra.
Before you had come down from your high, he came too, spilling his hot seed into you with a grunt. “Who do you belong to, love?”
“You, Loki, only you.”
Once his load was spent, he collapsed on top of you, your sweaty skin sliding against his own. The restraints immediately disappeared and you wrapped your arms around him as you both panted, coming down from your highs together.
“I love you, my darling wife,” he murmured against your ear a few moments later, before he placed a chaste kiss to your lips and rose from the bed. “Now let me take care of you.”
“I love you too, Loki…” you trailed, your mind still swimming in euphoria.
Loki got up and tended to you, bringing you a glass of water and helping you sit up to drink it, the cold liquid refreshing your parched throat. Then, he cleaned up the mess between your legs with his seidr and lifted you off the bed, carrying you bridal style into the en-suite bathroom and lowering you gently into the bathtub that he had already filled with hot water and your favorite lavender bath oil. He knelt beside the tub and kissed you tenderly, his elegant fingers wrapping through your tousled hair, thumb brushing your cheek lovingly. How lucky you were that he was yours.
“I’ll go down and start a fire, my love,” he said, eyes brimming with adoration. “After you’re finished in the bath, come downstairs and I thought we could snuggle on the couch, enjoy some hot cocoa, and watch a movie. I know that’s your favorite thing to do in the winter.”
“You’re wrong about that, Loki.” His lips turned down into a frown at your words, his brows knitting together in confusion. With a beaming smile creeping across your face, you finished, “You’re my favorite thing to do in the winter.”
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sebscore · 1 year
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FEMALE F1 DRIVER HEADCANONS 
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pairing: f1!drivers x fem!driver, f1 grid x oc
warnings: i didn't specify which team, cause it's not really about that tbh. I imagine the oc being one of the younger ones on the grid (around mick's age). I based this one on the 2022 grid. 
author's note: this is basically how things i imagine that would happen with the grid if you were their only female colleague. 
▹ seb and lewis basically being your work parents: defending you from misogynistic reporters, praising you to heaven and back, claiming you are right even when you are obviously wrong in a situation. sewis supports women's rights, but mostly women's wrongs.
▹ the wags either absolutely adore you or they tolerate you, there's no in between. It's girls support girls until one of their boyfriends gives you a hug and then you're fucked. 
▹ getting away with wrong answers in 'Grill the Grid' because the production team are totally in love with you and they hate your sad face when you give them an incorrect response.
▹ giving the grid nicknames that go from normal to borderline weird. for example, Mick becomes Mickie, Latifi becomes Nicky or Goatifi (depends on how the race went), Alex is Albono of course, George becomes Russy Bussy and Lando is Rumplestiltskin. 
▹ at the driver's briefing: ''alright, boys-'' *scratches voice loudly* ''and lady.'' 
▹ valtteri and kevin letting you ramble to them about whatever drama you have going on in your life, cause they don't have much better things to do and they find it touching that you go to them for these kinds of things. 
▹ you and zhou sending pictures of the outfits you're going to wear to the paddock during race week. sometimes even matching, cause yall are close like that. 
▹ max teaching you his second language that is called 'swearing'. checo also likes to chime in. one time he convinced you the word 'cunt' was a compliment and he made you go up to max and call him that to congratulate him on his race win. let's say mad max made a brief appearance. 
▹ jokingly flirting with other drivers just to rile toxic fans up for fun. the flirting consists honestly mostly of sarcastic comments about how they're good drivers, but better lovers, etc. 
▹ fernando giving you random piggyback rides. for what reason? no one knows. It's nando, what do you expect. danny ric also does it sometimes, but he makes horse sounds and it freaks you out. 
▹ you and esteban jokingly asking lance for pocket money, but you two sometimes hope he actually gives it one day. 
▹ weekly gossip sessions with Pierre, because that man seems to know everything about everyone. occasional guest starring by charles and yuki. 
▹ whenever carlos walks into the room, you start playing 'smooth operator'. at first he thought it was funny, but now he deliberately avoids you. 
▹ overdramatic photoshoots with lando and daniel aka the papaya boys for their insta accounts. those jpg accounts are honestly just fan pages for you, because of the amount of times you've appeared on them.
▹ overdramatic photoshoots with lando and daniel aka the papaya boys for their insta accounts. those jpg accounts are honestly just fan pages for you, because of the amount of times you've appeared on them.
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 30 days
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the little princess (g.l.)
Pairing: Garfield Logan x Tamaranean!Fem!Reader
Warnings: None i think
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: If the Titans had a nickel for every time one of Kori's sister's, that she apparently had a very bad relationship with, landed on Earth, they'd have two nickels. Which isn't much but it's weird that it happened twice.
A/N: This is just a little ode to the Starfire that was in the OG Teen Titans show because I just love her so much. She's just a little cutie patootie and I loved all of her quirks and antics. I wanted to make the oneshot a little longer and end with both Gar and her getting together but I realized that it would've been far too long and I didn't want to write all that in the same one-shot.
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It was in Dick's poor judgment to listen to the police radio while they were taking the cross-country road trip while getting back to San Francisco. Well, if we're debating Dick's poor judgment, he really should have taken the jet but not like the team could do anything about it now.
They were in Nevada, near Las Vegas when the chatter on the radio went wild. He spared a glance at Starfire, wondering if they should respond but she shook her head. So far, all alerts on the police radio had been insignificant things like disruption of business or public intoxication. Nothing that required their intervention.
So, Dick didn't bother to turn his indicator on for the exit from the highway. That was until they heard something cut through the static, clear as day, "Attention all units, need immediate backup! There's some sort of human flame thrower here! Like that superhero chick!"
They shared a glance and Dick swerved off the road and into the exit, nearly hitting another car in his hurry.
It took longer than it should have to get there, considering Starfire was driving while Dick changed into his Nightwing suit in the bathroom. To say that LVMPD were surprised when an RV rolled up with five superheroes inside was an understatement.
They directed them to the building, the perimeter heavily guarded by multiple officers, all armed.
Once they entered the building, everyone froze, noting how the girl on fire in the middle of the room looked much like the one standing beside them. Her hair was glowing and floating along with her body as she clenched her molten fists.
This never would have happened if they just took the jet.
Before any of them could even come up with a game plan, their target noticed just who was standing there and stopped. When the flames and the nearly blinding glow had subsided, they noticed all that was remaining was a young girl.
"Kori?" She asked curiously, wondering if that was really Starfire or just someone who looked exactly like her. After all, it was a new planet, she didn't know much about the inhabitants here.
"(Y/N)?" Kori breathed out, equal parts shocked and relieved.
The girl's face crumpled, and she broke out into sobs before flying right into her arms, "Kori!"
It was kind of amusing to see Kori attempt to hug you back, considering that you were floating off the ground but once you were consoled, she let you go, and you remained floating a couple feet off the floor at her side.
Kori gestured to the rest of them, and you bashfully hid behind her, scared of the newcomers. Ever since you landed on this planet, they had been nothing but cruel to you. All you had done was use your powers to reheat the tea you were served and suddenly there were men who had pointed weapons at you.
You looked at Nightwing's escrima sticks apprehensively before tucking yourself further behind her back. She spared you a glance before turning to her teammates with a tolerating smile.
"Guys, meet my sister."
"Another sister? Is she gonna try and kill us too?"
"You know Komander?" You asked curiously, floating a bit higher so that your head peeked over Kori's.
"Vaguely." Conner answered and you tilted your head, watching him with a deliberating pout. He seemed a little uncomfortable by your piercing stare, so you averted your gaze before whispering in your sister's ear.
"Are they holding you hostage?"
She chuckled and shook her head before introducing all of them to you by name. You listened attentively, noticing how neither of them bothered to give you smiles aside from the youngest girl and boy named Rachel and Gar.
They had pretty hair. You liked them already.
***
"Another sister you didn't tell us about?" Dick pressed, leaning over the centre console and Kori sighed, running a hand down her face. You were floating in the back of the RV, listening intently to Tim's conspiracies about aliens and attempting to explain your history and more to him.
"I didn't think I had to. I never thought we'd actually have to run into her." She explained and he gave her a hard gaze.
"Yes, but a little heads up would have been nice."
"Well, I didn't know she was going to be here, now did I?!" She snapped and the RV was immediately silenced. She sighed and turned to give the rest of you a reassuring smile and you reluctantly went back to your conversations.
When she was sure they weren't listening, she turned back to Dick, "She's the youngest. After Komander was born without powers, the public and nobles pressed for my parents to have another child. She was born with powers and also the first one in like 5 generations to be born with the power of flight. She's considered a gem in the public eye. She can do no wrong. And she's too young to assume the throne so she's never pressured like Komander, and I were. I'm surprised they even let her off the planet."
Dick cast an uncertain eye on the woman beside him. It was obvious that she had some unresolved issues with you, although he couldn't exactly put his finger on why. From what he gathered, you were pretty delightful and made a cute first impression, unlike the time he met Jason.
"What's this?" You asked loudly, pointing to a hole in their table.
"Um, it's a sink." Gar answered, flustered that you didn't know about its existence, "It's where we wash our hands and dishes and things."
Your face scrunched up, "Well that sounds unhygienic. Can't you just acquire new ones?"
Kori rolled her eyes.
"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" She asked, finally acknowledging you now that she had wrapped her head around it.
Your brows furrowed at her tone as you flew closer to her, "Maybe I'm assuming but are you perhaps angry with me?"
She scoffed. Of course, you didn't even know when you upset someone. People back home usually jump through hoops for you, so it was no wonder that you had absolutely no idea of other people's feelings or thought that you could do any wrong.
"Yes! What the hell are you doing here?! You can't just come to a planet like Earth and then go around causing trouble!"
"Excuse me?" You asked cautiously, trying to reason with her. You had come here to find your older sister because you thought she would know what to do. The more you spoke with her, the less she seemed like the rightful ruler and more like Komander, "What was I meant to do, Kori'Ander? Our parents were murdered, the crown princess disappeared. People began looking toward me for an answer. What was I meant to tell them?"
She scoffed once again and you were starting to get very irritated by the sound, "Of course, couldn't even run a kingdom for a while."
This struck the wrong chord. You were never quite close with your older sisters; they both considered you the runt of the family and frequently made comments about how you were too young to join them on their excursions. Kori would seem like the doting older sister to the public, but you never really connected.
And Komander hated you since birth.
It was undeniable that your parents treasured you. I mean, how could they not when you constantly strived for their attention. You didn't have any friends growing up and your sisters scorned you when you did nothing wrong, so you depended on your parents for intimacy and connection.
It wasn't rare for you to be floating around the throne room, giggling when your father teased you by attempting to catch you, even though you were way out of his reach.
The people treasured you as well, you realized that very early, when you were first introduced to them as a young girl. You had been hiding behind your mother's gown, intimidated by the sheer amount of people and held her skirt in a tight fist.
You remember your parents cooing at you as they slowly revealed you to the rest of them and then the deafening sound of the crowd cheering. Your parents watched with pride as you began flying to try and see just how many people were there and they cheered louder.
You were adored.
And even though you did want to spend time with your sisters and play with them, you were eventually steered away from them by your parents after you had returned to their room in tears and inconsolable when your sisters had slammed their door in your face when you had just asked to play.
"I'm not the one meant to be running the kingdom, Kori. You are the crown princess. It was your duty to be take over the throne or officially abdicate it. Not mine." You explained, not quite understanding why she was being so negative. This had been her birth right and her path, way before you were even born.
You didn't realize it when you were younger but as you came of age, you understood that your role in the royal family wasn't one of politics or even running the kingdom. You were nothing more than a symbol to the people. Of purity, peace, and hope.
That had been made clear, so why was she suddenly expecting you to take over?
Everyone stared out the window, trying extremely hard to blend into the surroundings. While all of them respected Kori a lot, they all knew that she was impulsive and often said things without thinking them through. While Kori was excellent at giving advice, she herself was awful at controlling her emotions and lashed out often.
Tim began making prayers that they would make it through without something catching on fire.
"I realize that (Y/N)! But you're still the princess in our absence! You should have done something instead of running away and make someone solve your problems for you!"
You gasped, "My problems?! The kingdom that you're the ruler of is my problem? I'm the one who's running away? You're the one who ran so far that you went to a completely different planet! You—You zarbnarf!"
Kori froze, watching as your eyes glassed over with furious tears. Immediately, she regretted speaking to you that way, feeling panic build in her system. It was probably because growing up, she had learnt to grow terrified whenever you began crying around her.
Because you were the golden child. The fragile flower among molten rocks and you were treasured by your parents beyond anything. If either Kori or Komander had made you cry, they usually faced a punishment. That was something that you took advantage of, as an immature, mischievous child. When had you grown up so much?
She wanted to apologize, take it back but her pride was swelling so big in her chest that it clogged her throat. She was still angry and humiliated and all the things she felt as a child began coming back to her.
How could she be so immature? She had no idea what happened on Tamaran, and she had been foolish to think it was still the place she considered home. But it was inevitable for the people to ask about their ruler. She had been running away from the thought for too long.
She had completely forgotten that you were left behind in the chaos.
"You abandoned our family! Our people! And for what? A servant’s quarters on wheels?" You spat, turning away from her. She expected you to throw open the door and fly out but instead you stomped over to the seat beside Gar, not noticing the way he began scrambling to wiggly himself out of the booth and away from you.
He was too slow, and you ended up plopping down onto the seat beside him and he stared apprehensively at you from the corner of his eye.
Kori scoffed, "Why don't you just leave?!"
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, "I'm done with this conversation but not with you. If your first response to confrontation is to run away, then I can see why you weren't gifted with the power of flight in the first place."
She swelled, puffing out her chest, "You know what—?!"
When Kori realized that you weren't in the mood to talk anymore, she returned to her seat even though she wanted to keep yelling at you. Why did you get to decide when the argument was over? You both weren't on Tamaran anymore and your parents weren't around anymore to scold her for picking a fight with someone so much younger but still, she fumed silently in her seat.
You turned to Gar with an apologetic pout, "I apologize for calling this a servant's quarters. You have a lovely home."
He chuckled at your guilty face, "Yeah, this isn't where we live, we're just using it to get back home."
You gave him a smile, "So you're not feeling hard with me?"
He blushed furiously, ignoring Conner as he laughed quietly into his hand, "Yeah, no hard feelings here."
***
Since you were an "unwelcome" guest in Kori's eyes, you were confined to the couch when you reached the tower. She was expecting you to throw a fit or whine about having to sleep like a servant, but you didn't mind, didn't complain, didn't say anything as you sat silently on the couch.
They didn't know what caused the sudden damp in your mood, you had been smiling the entire trip back, asking questions and making conversation but it was like everything vanished the second you entered their home.
Gar came out of his room in the middle of the night for a snack when he saw you sitting up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest. He thought he would just grab whatever he needed and leave quickly but he heard you sniffle.
"You okay?"
You looked up at him startled, and quickly wiped away your tears before plastering a fake smile on your face, "I am fine. Thank you for asking."
He should have just nodded, giving you an awkward smile before retreating back to his bedroom but he seemed unable to get the apathetic words out at the site of you hiding your faltering smile behind your pink hair.
Superman had kryptonite. He had pretty girls.
"Would you like some ice cream?"
Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Iced screams? What is that?"
He chuckled, finding the way your nose scrunched up absolutely adorable, "Not 'iced screams'. Ice cream."
"Like cold milk?"
"Cold, sweet, hard milk."
You looked mildly repulsed, "I shall decline. Thank you for the offer."
He just breathed out a laugh, sitting next to you with a bowl of cookie dough and two spoons, "Just try it."
You kept giving him cautious glances all while lifting the spoon of the sugary treat to your mouth, watching as he nodded encouragingly and tentatively took a tiny taste (wow alliteration).
Gar had the absolute pleasure of watching your face scrunch up immediately, not expecting it to be that cold but it slowly faded into a small smile at the flavour.
When you had taken another spoon, he glanced at you and noticed your swollen eyes and red nose, "Is everything okay?"
You gave him a small smile and nodded, "I am merely just sick of your home."
He froze in disbelief before reminding himself that you were a literal princess. You were probably very used to luxury and had a literal castle to yourself.
And you're Komander's sister. That part explains a lot.
He shook the thoughts from his head before smiling politely and taking a spoon of ice cream himself when he didn't know how to respond. Luckily, he didn't have to because you continued.
"I know I have been here only a short time, but I miss Tamaran deeply."
The tension in his spine melted away and he slouched with a sigh of relief, "Oh, you're homesick."
You gave him a refined smile, "Yes, I just mentioned about the home-sickness."
"It's not exactly--nevermind."
There was a moment of silence while you quietly ate a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream before Gar spoke again, "No offense but if you miss it so much, why don't you just go back?"
You bit your lip, "My planet is in political instability. I'm unfit to take the throne. So, I vowed to bring the true heir back home."
His brows furrowed, "Why are you unfit to take the throne? You seem smart and powerful."
His compliment had heat raising to your cheeks and you felt a small smile grow on your face before it was dampened by the heavy topic and you sighed, resting your head against the back of the couch.
"My people wish that I take the throne because they see me as a beacon of hope but that is the very reason I am unable. My gift of flight has made me different from the rest of the Tamaraneans, so in a political sense, I have become a figurehead for nobility, equality and neutrality."
He nodded even though he wasn't quite understanding where this was headed.
"Because of this I have been trusted to be a mediator between my planet and others. I am but a symbol of peace. The rulers of other planets trust me because I am not part of the political party on Tamaran. I have never even made my debut into noble society. If I take my place as the ruler, those alliances could fall apart. The common people couldn't possibly understand that."
"So, you're supposed to be this unbiased figurehead but if you acquire any actual power, you think your alliances with other planets will fall apart?" He summarized, wanting to make sure that he actually understood, and you nodded.
"Well, why don't you just tell Kori that? I'm sure she'd understand."
Your eyes drifted to your feet that were folded up onto the sofa, "I was going to, but I lost my temper when she accused me of not taking initiative. She never acknowledged the work I did for my people. I suppose I got defensive."
He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, "It's alright. Second time's the charm."
Your face scrunched up in confusion and he laughed quietly, "I mean, you should try again tomorrow. Maybe it'll go better this time."
"Ah."
"Hey (Y/N)?"
"Yes, Garfield?"
He offered you a small smile, "If it makes any difference, I really do believe that you did the right thing."
You felt the corners of your mouth tug up, "Thank you, Garfield."
***
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