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#The blankets feel scratchy now
ghostedcas · 7 months
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months
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price who proposes to you in private. there is no camera waiting to capture the moment. there is no stress or planning ahead to try and get you ready and in a specific area without raising suspicion. it’s just the two of you.
it’s when you don’t expect. it’s a few days after he’s home from deployment and you’re spending the weekend at his house. your body snug on top of his as your lips place soft kisses on his chest, the blanket draped over the two of you to shield half naked bodies; your body covered in his t-shirt while he wears boxers.
fingers lazily scratch up and down your back, causing you to hum to show your content. your kisses on his chest coming to a stop as you rest your cheek on his chest. the only movement your body makes is the result of his steadied breaths.
“we should probably shower,” the suggestion is one that will most likely be ignored, neither of you will make the effort to move from the current position. you’re not even sure why you suggested it in the first place.
the lack of response from him makes you think he’s fallen asleep already, so you move your head to catch a glimpse of him. except eyes are focused on you while fingers continue to scratch your back, but his hand moving behind your neck to keep you focused on him.
“are you—”
“marry me.”
the words run through your brain as you process them. lips part as if you are about to say something, but quickly close as you take another moment.
“i’m marryin’ you one day.”
“yeah, when we’re married.”
“you're the one, y'know that right?”
it was never just ‘marry me’ and you’re not sure how long you stayed quiet, but long enough that his hand slips away from your neck. gently, he urges you to move up his body so you’re now face to face with him.
“going deaf on me r’you?” his chuckle deeper than normal, and you watch as his arm reaches over to the nightstand. sitting up straight on his lap, you feel your breath catch in your throat again.
this was different than every other time he alluded to marriage. this time there was a ring to accompany the words that suggested it.
“john—” and as you speak, he sits up and moves one arm around your waist. his other hand using his thumb to flip open the box with the ring inside it.
“marry me,” it sounds like he’s telling you; it isn’t a question he wants a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer to. “and i know you can hear me.”
does your mouth always feel this dry? is it always this hard to try and speak? your lips parting again as words try to come out, but silence hangs heavy in the room. eyes don’t even glance at the ring before your hands grab his face. the facial hair you once called scratchy and ticklish when you first met him pressed against your palms.
tugging his face close to yours, you give him a small nod. lips graze against his briefly before you press them against his and he’s kissing you back. it tastes salty and wet, despite the feeling of your mouth feeling dry. but, the realization that tears have started to spill down your cheeks hits you.
“okay,” the word barely audible against his lips, but his arm around your waist tightens and pulls you closer when you say it; hand grabbing at your waist to keep you on his lap as if you’re trying to move away, but you aren’t.
when the kiss breaks, his arm slips away to remove the ring from the box. the box quickly discarded onto the bed as he gently takes your hand, you’d think he was holding glass with how delicate he treated it.
the ring slowly slides onto your finger, his own fingertips making your skin feel hot at the touch. once its on, price is guiding your hand to his lips; your ring finger the target for his kiss.
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augustinewrites · 7 months
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the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.
the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.
he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.
“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.” 
the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.
_____
you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed. 
“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm. 
“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression. 
“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.
“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…” 
“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero. 
you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things. 
“can you help me sit up?”
“you shouldn’t be moving around–” 
your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back. 
“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.  
“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it. 
so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.
“i wanna give the flowers–”
“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”
your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.
_____
your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school. 
satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit. 
you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.
“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.” 
he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.” 
“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”
“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”
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darknight3904 · 4 months
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You're a Liar
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ʙᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)
ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ. ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴛᴅ ꜱᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ/ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʀᴏᴛ.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The way the sun just barely peaked through the curtains and shimmered its way across the bedspread made your shared room with Coriolanus look simply divine.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The delicious scent of bacon and freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the mansion and under your closed door. The promise of fresh orange juice and perfectly hot coffee was enough to rouse anyone from their slumber.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. Coriolanus is still asleep beside you. Curly hair is splayed on the pillow, free from whatever styling gel he put in it. His face is relaxed and peaceful as you run your fingertips across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. The stress of being president is gone from his face when he sleeps and that's how you know, mornings are your favorite time of day.
"I can feel you staring at me."
His voice was still muddled with sleep, deep and scratchy as he batted at your hands trying to keep them off his gorgeous face.
"I'm appreciating the art in front of me," You smile as he finally opens his eyes.
"Your hands on my face are making my nose itch." He says grabbing your right hand and gently squeezing it as he sits up beside you.
You hum a tune of acknowledgment and take in his appearance. Coriolanus' pale skin was a wonderful sight to behold as the blanket slipped and fell into his lap.
"You're staring again." He says playing with your fingers
"An incredibly attractive man seems to be missing his shirt, can you blame me for staring?" You state a playful smile pulling on your lips.
Coriolanus lets out a snort and gets out of bed with a grunt. Long red scratches adorn his back as you watch your fiancee walk across the room towards the bathroom, ready to scrub last night's activities off himself.
Yes, mornings were your favorite time of day. You had warm sunshine, delicious food, and Coriolanus by your side.
But, most of all, mornings were your favorite because you weren't alone.
Coriolanus never truly wanted to leave the bedroom he shared with you. Even now as you groaned and begged him to just lounge around the mansion with you, he wished he could go back to when he felt your soft fingertips brushing the bridge of his nose. He had woken up beside you, cleaned himself, and eaten a wonderful breakfast, now the next step was simple. The next step was attending to his duties as the President of Panem and leaving you to your day in the south wing of the mansion. Despite the tempting idea of staying with you, he knew you'd be eagerly awaiting him, tonight at the dinner table, ready to listen about his day. It was the perfect daily routine and Coriolanus never wanted it to change.
He could feel the press of your lips on his lingering hours later as the newest Head Gamemaker listed detailed plans for the games that were two months away. Dr. Gaul's death had been a blow to the way the Hunger Games functioned as a whole. Now, Coriolanus wasn't sure if the new man chosen for the job was truly the correct choice, he didn't have any of the ruthlessness Gaul had. Sure, he could've stepped in but how would he run the country and dream up deadly traps and mutts for tributes. Sure, he probably could've but that meant so many hours of overtime and leaving you to sleep alone in those overly soft sheets you had hand-picked for your shared bed. This new game maker would just have to do, he didn't want to imagine your sad little face if he didn't sit down for dinner with you each night.
The hours after Coriolanus left you at the breakfast table were terribly boring. There wasn't anything for you to do anymore.Sure, you could've gone shopping or gone to a local park but you hated doing all those things alone. Coriolanus had convinced you that running your Father's weapons company would be overwhelming for you and managed it in your name. As far as you knew it was doing well and was providing many jobs for people in the districts. Everything else in the mansion was tended to by an army of maids and butlers, who were ready at the snap of a finger. So, here you sat in your sunroom that Coriolanus had built as a special place just for you.
You had taken up painting nearly a year ago but your long days of solitude had caused you to quickly run out of inspiration. Now, the paints and easel sat, awaiting your touch but your creativity was gone. You missed Coriolanus and he wouldn't return for another hour. Surely dinner was nearly ready and you wished you were sitting with him, listening to whatever he had spent his day doing. Perhaps you should start a new book before he returns. That'd give you something to tell him about when he did come back.
Maybe the extensive in-home library here would have a book about a lonely woman, wishing for her lover. Maybe there'd be a book all about her and how she spent her days without him and how to pass the time. Maybe, there'd be a book all about her mornings with him and how she never wished for them to come to an end.
It was during these long days that you felt like the loneliest woman in all of Panem. Moments like this made it feel like you were a delicate china doll, only removed from her case to be admired for a few spare moments before being placed back on her shelf.
Two Years Later
Watching. It was something you had gotten good at over the past few months, especially since Coriolanus stopped allowing you to leave the grounds of the mansion. You watched as the boy you grew up with and danced at countless galas faded from view. You tried to welcome the man who sat across from you eating his dinner but it was had more and more difficult as the weeks bled into months and months turned to years. Coriolanus even seldom kissed you now. It hurt even though you knew it was for your own safety. He had admitted it one night in the darkness of your room as he lay beside you. Poison had created sensitive sores in his mouth. You wished he'd stop using it, surely there had to be other ways to do away with enemies.
You felt as though you were withering away, your days were so tedious and you often found yourself eagerly waiting at the dinner table for Coriolanus. Your long days were spent in isolation and you rarely spoke to the staff of the mansion. That didn't stop you from racing to the dining room when the sounds of Coriolanus' return sounded through the halls. Some days it felt like you were a child waiting to tell their parent about their day.
Tonight, it was like your words were falling on deaf ears as Coriolanus was paging through a book while nibbling at the food that had been placed in front of the two of you. Your engagement ring was a dazzling silver as you played with your fingers, wishing he'd look up from whatever knowledge that book might've held.
"Coryo..." You began
"Yes?"
His tone wasn't what you had hoped for. He was annoyed that you were interrupting whatever was on the page in front of him so you didn't elaborate on what you had wanted to say.
Watching. It was something you had gotten good at since there wasn't anything else for you to do.
It was raining the day you found them. You had spent most of the day lounging around and working with the wedding planner Coriolanus had hired so you wouldn't have to do all of the work yourself.
It was nestled in an old shoe box, covered in dust, perfectly hidden behind Coriolanus' clothes on his side of the closet. At first, you had thought it might have been more of Sejanus' things that Coriolanus never gave back to Strabo. Instead what you were met with was worse than a dead boy's things. There, wrapped up in a silky orange scarf sat a single golden earring and an envelope. You swore you could smell lingering perfume on the scarf as you opened the envelope.
It felt like your hands were burning when you finally looked at them. Surely they weren't real. Right?
Two pictures sat in your hands. One of Lucy Gray Baird on some unknown stage, a black guitar in hand. Her pretty dark curls were pulled back and behind her a small group of blurry faces were muddled together, unrecognizable due to the poor lighting. You felt a lump of anxiety and anger swell in your throat when you moved on to the next picture. It was taken as if the subjects of the photo had no knowledge of the camera. Lucy Gray sits on a dilapidated-looking couch with your Coriolanus beside her. Her face was partially obscured as she pressed her lips to his cheek and Coriolanus was smiling, his one arm wrapped securely around her waist.
How long had it been since he smiled like that at you? Perhaps it was even before the reaping that had brought her to the Capitol. When was the last time you saw a truly genuine smile from the boy you grew up with? You wondered how you had missed the way his boyish smiles had transformed into those cruel smirks he donned when things went his way.
Jealousy and sadness burned in your stomach as your mind raced. How long had it been since these photos were taken? It had been nearly 7 years since her games. Coriolanus' head was clearly buzzed in the photo with Lucy which meant it was after he was forced by Highbottom to leave the Capitol. How many times after his return to you had he assured you that nothing had happened between them? How many times had you believed him and his sweet words and actions? How many times had he lied and betrayed you all for another girl who mysteriously disappeared?
Betrayal is what you felt as you pocketed the pictures and slid the box back into its spot behind his fancy coats. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you dressed for dinner, Coriolanus would be back soon and you would confront him about the pictures once he was seated across from you at that dinner table you had sat at hundreds of times.
Dinner is silent as you pick at the cut of steak that was placed on your plate. Coriolanus is talking about how he's on the hunt for another head game maker and how annoying it is but you just can't help but not care. The table that separates you from him makes it feel like a huge ravine has grown between the two of you as you tune him out.
15 years is how long you've known Coriolanus Snow. In those 15 years, you had never dreamed of doing what you were about to do as you removed the pictures from where they sat hidden under your pretty skirt, a floral pattern Coriolanus had picked for your 27th birthday a few months ago. Your heart ached as you slid them across the table to him.
"I found these today. In our closet. Wrapped in your mother's scarf with a gold earring."
You finally have all of Coriolanus' attention as he swallows his food and stops his complaining.
"I thought you said it wasn't romantic. You promised me it wasn't."
Coriolanus glances down at the pictures and reaches out to brush his finger across the one with him and Lucy Gray on that couch.
"You promised, Coryo."
Your voice was breaking. Damn it, don't cry!
"I know I did."
He finally speaks. You wondered what was going through that ridiculously complex mind as he fumbled for his words.
"Then why did you lie? I would've listened if you had just told the truth to begin with." You honestly say.
It's true, you would've heard him out. Maybe you wouldn't have taken him back but you would have at least listened.
"I wasn't thinking straight, okay," He says " I should've told you. I should've gotten rid of that stuff years ago. I don't know why I didn't."
"Yes, you do." You sigh "You love her Coryo. Even now, you're looking for Lucy Gray. That's why you keep me here, you're scared I'll run off like her."
"No, no that's not it. I just...want you to myself." He reasoned
"If that were true you'd let me leave."
"Why do you need to? Everything anyone could ever wish for is right here in this home." He points out, you don't miss the way his fist is clenching, his nails digging into his skin.
"I haven't left the mansion in two years!" You cry, blinking back tears "I feel like some prize you've won and caged up! You don't even let me attend galas anymore."
"You hated those galas. All the nosey reporters and their questions were something you hated. Do you want me to apologize for doing you a favor? I won't. I've done nothing but make your life easier." Coriolanus says
"Yes, you have made my life easier, you've eliminated all challenges I might come across by keeping me here, like a doll." You agree, tone dripping with sarcasm
"Look, if you want you can go to the next gala with me. It's in a week I'll get a designer here tomorrow morning to make you a nice dress." Coriolanus sighed, clearly tired "I don't want to argue with you about petty things"
"Good, then we can argue about these photos." You say, ready to finally hear what he had to say.
"I don't love her. Maybe I did at some point but none of that matters now, I came back to you didn't I?"
Maybe I did at some point.
Hot tears fell from your eyes as you looked down at your feet. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you see it sooner?
The sound of Coriolanus getting up and walking towards you had you wiping at your face and unattractively sniffing as you tried to fix your runny nose. You didn't want him taking your tears as a sign of weakness. He couched down beside you and pulled your chair out so you were facing him.
"Stop crying." He commands placing his hands on your thighs.
Another fresh set of tears falls from your eyes and Coriolanus brushes them away.
"You're a liar." You say, your voice barely a whisper
"I'm not...I want to be here, with you. I'll let you go back out on your little shopping trips and attend galas, shitty reporters and all."
It's tempting, to agree and let everything perfectly mend itself. But as you glance at the pictures that fell off the table and Lucy Gray's face stares back at you, you feel your heart sink to your feet again.
"You're a liar." You say, this time your voice comes out strong as you push his warm hands from your face
Coriolanus gives you a hard stare but lets you pull away from him.
"You can't even apologize for seeing her." You point out
Coriolanus looks guilty as he disgests your words.
"What happened between the two of you?" You asked
"She ran off, I think. I also had some personal issues after Sejanus was killed. She offered for me to go with her, I almost did." He says
You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment as Coriolanus remains in front of you, on his knees, fiddling with the end of your skirt.
"I don't think I ever really loved her. I think it might've just been the idea of possessing her that I liked." He admits, eyes on the floor
"And how is that different than us now?" You ask
Coriolanus' eyes snap up to yours when the question leaves your lips.
"It's different because...we're us...We grew up together, darling. You ate Tigris' cabbage soup and gave me lunch when I didn't have money for my own."
You swallow the lump in your throat and stand up. Coriolanus immediately rises, not interested in being so much shorter than you. You know what has to come next but you're not sure if you're strong enough to do it. Your actions will close the chapter of a book 15 years in the making.
"Coryo...I think I want to go home." You say looking up at him, fresh tears pool in your eyes.
"You are home. You're with me." He says reaching out and taking your hand in his
"No, I mean...to my family's home. I want my mom, I miss her." You admit, pulling your hand out of his.
Coriolanus' face is confused as you look down at the gorgeous ring he gave you at his proposal. It looked so perfect on your hand when you woke up just this morning but now it felt like a death sentence as you sighed.
"I think you should have this back too..." You say as you slip it off and hold it out to him, "I'm sorry about things ending like this, but if you can't even apologize, I don't think I can stay."
Coriolanus' confusion quickly morphs into anger as he looks at the ring in your hand.
"Put it back on. I'm not letting you walk away." He says, upset
"Coryo, don't make this difficult." You say taking the ring and placing it into the pocket that sits just above his heart in his button-up shirt.
You begin to walk towards the looming archway that marks the entrance to the dining room but you're blocked by an angry Coriolanus Snow, tears in his eyes, fists clenched, and his mouth set in a cold line.
"You're not leaving. I won't let you."
Part Four
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writing-fanics · 3 months
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don’t mess with the devil ii
Part I final
Chapter ii: Home is with you
[warning: mentions of sex]
Lucifer Morningstar x human!Reader
Y/n
Y/n?
Sweetie?
The smell of chemicals wafted through your nose, and the occasional beeps that sounded like a heartbeat monitor? You groaned, and your vision still blurry. “L-Lu?..” Your voice hoarse, but the voice didn’t respond.
“It’s me mom.” The voice said, causing you to sit up quickly in response. “Whoa, slow down.” Your mother, said placing a hand on your back. “I-I’m back..” You whispered, and your mother looked at you worriedly. She gently rubbed your hand, “Yes you’re. Thank Heavens.” She said, planting a kiss on the side of your head.
You sat there and said nothing, staring blankly at the blanket. Processing everything, you were no longer in Hell. No longer with Lucifer. You were back home on Earth with your mother. Like you always wanted right? Then why did you feel so cold? So empty?
You felt as if a piece of you was missing. Like you were missing your other half. Your Lucifer. You missed his warmth, his smile, and his goofy personality at times. He always found a way to make you smile whenever you were feeling down, and you would return that sentiment.
You didn’t tell him you loved him yet, he’s told you. But he respected that you might not be ready to saw it yet. He understood completely, once you explained it to him. Having told him about your bad relationships in the past. Now, that all seemed to end right now. You were never going to see him again.
“Y/n, oh sweetie you look pale.” Your mother said, snapping you out of your thoughts. As she placed her hand on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” She said, and you assumed she left to get the doctor. You frowned, as you laid back down in the hospital bed. The hospital gown fabric scratchy, and the sound of the heart monitor made you sick.
You laid on your side, back towards the door. Your stomach grumbled, but you didn’t feel like eating anything. Laying in the single bed made you, the king sized bed you shared with the king of hell.
The satin sheets and the comfortable bed. Mainly you missed, laying in bed with him cuddling or just laying there to relax. Or of course doing the ol devils tango. You missed the smell of the caramel apple candle that filled the bedroom. The smell of freshly baked apple by on Saturday mornings.
Tears trickled down your cheeks, as you hid your head into your pillow. As much as you were happy to be back home, seeing your mom again. Somehow, what was once home no longer felt like it.
You opened your closed hand to reveal, a golden ring with wing like textures engraved into it. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you were filled with so much regret.
“I should’ve told him..” you sniffled, as you closed your hand again. Hiding your face into your pillow once again. “How much I love him.” You whimpered, as you sobbed.
back in hell
Weeks later
Lucifer sighed, as he leaned forward onto his desk. His eyes wandered towards the framed picture on his desk, of you and him at Lu Lu World. “This is way better than Disney!” He remembered you said, after which you showed him pictures. He knew of another park called ‘Hellsney’.
You had faded away from his hands, and a part of him knew you were going back to the living world. He felt it when part of his magic he shared with you, returned to him. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, tell you how much he loved you before you faded away in his arms.
At least, he knew you were much sadder up there than here. He couldn’t bear the site of your beaten and battered body. Adam was lucky that Charlie was there to keep him, from killing him.
Lucifer stared down at Adam, as he held Charlie in his arms. His voice distorted and demonic. “You come at me my daughter and my partner!” said Lucifer, as his daughter stepped down onto the ground.
He lunged towards Adam, and stood over him. Eyes red glowing filled with rage, “Don’t forget your in my house now bitch!” He laughed, demonically as he threw punch after punch. With the intent to kill. You don’t mess with the devil or his family.
He’s going to miss that smile of yours, that infectious laughter. Your voice, and your delicious cooking that rivaled his. He never thought he’d find love again after, Lilith left. Yet, here you come in six years later. A human no doubt ending up in hell so suddenly, and he fell in love with you.
Now, you left too. Not by choice but you were gone as well. He was still recovering from Lilith leaving him while the two of you, were still in a relationship. You told him that you understood, being together for as long as they did you understood.
You being there with him helped seemed to heal that wound. Then fixing his relationship with his daughter helped too. But now that wound in his heart, seemed to open back up. Hells, he loved you god so fucking much. You were special there was something about you, maybe the two of you were soulmates.
A silly thing to think but it could be possible?
He reached towards the photo, and stared at it longingly. You had a goofy smile on your face.
He remembered that day, after that photo was taken. A hellbird flew down, and stole his caramel apple. You gave yours to him, and the two of you shared it.
God he was going to miss you..
“Come on.” A distorted voice said, he turned around in his chair. “Who’s there?!” He called out, but saw nothing. Was it all in his head. He could’ve sworn that voice sounded familiar.
“Lu!” A voice called out, a faint yellow glow as if a portal trying to manifest itself appeared behind him. He didn’t notice a hand reaching out to touch him, through the tiny hole.
He thought it must’ve been that Alastor, pulling some sick twisted prank on him. But he could’ve sworn, he felt a little bit of his magic leave him.. That could only mean..
Taglist: @96jnie
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poeticmystery · 4 months
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:・゚✧:・゚ RAY OF SUNSHINE (p.j.)
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summary : in which percy jackson feels attached, in some way, to a girl he just met.
w.c. : 1,023
a/n : this is the first part of what's gonna be a full book! i'm going to post it on wattpad as soon as i write the second chapter! wattpad: poet1cmystery
warning(s) : none!
| riordanverse masterlist | navigation | part 2 |
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
the last thing percy remembered was the feeling of blood rushing to his head, then darkness. 
now he was lying on a small cot, one of the few empty ones in the infirmary. a thin blanket covered him, one that, no doubt, rested on top of many other wounded half-bloods. the air was brisk, despite the barrier keeping out most of the heavy forms of weather. he moved his hands up to grab the top of the blanket, causing a tingling sensation to run to the tips of his fingers. 
his movement stopped, and his limbs felt normal again after the moment of stillness. confusion ebbed his mind, questions of how long he was out, and what had even happened. those thoughts couldn’t last for long, as he soon heard a girl’s voice exclaim something close to, “you’re finally awake.” 
he nodded, clearing his throat to try to get some of the patchiness away. the boy spoke up, his voice scratchy and still slightly covered in a viel of sleepiness. 
“do you have any water, or something?” he asked, glancing around at the table beside the bed. the only thing sitting on it was a book. he couldn’t quite decipher the words, the letters scrambling and jumbling into words he knew didn’t exist. 
“oh, yeah, let me fetch that. is there anything else?” the girl’s voice was sweet.. her face was completely lost on percy, surprising him with even more confusion. 
“uh, no,” he grunted out, just wanting to fall asleep again. his tone wasn’t rude to her, just overall a tired voice. 
the next he knew, the girl was out of the room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. 
his head fell against the pillow beneath it, the plushness doing nothing to support it. despite his still almost-asleep state of mind, he couldn’t help but be enthralled by the girl. 
soon enough, her smiling face returned to the small room. she came holding a decently sized metal water bottle, along with a small, clear bag of blue candies. "i heard from somebody that you liked these, so i thought i’d grab some, but it’s alright if you aren’t hungry. you just woke up, so no worries,” she assured, placing the items on the wooden table. 
she looked over the boy’s body for a minute, gently peeling back the thin covering to show his bare torso. the wounds that had been littering it just a few hours before were almost completely erased at this point, thanks to the magical properties of ambrosia. She hummed in satisfaction, folding the blanket back over him and taking a step back. 
percy just let her do what she needed to– it wasn’t his first time in the infirmirary, and definitely not his last. even though he had just been knocked out for almost the whole day, he was feeling almost fine. he reached up, his muscles feeling loose from the stillness they had been in. his hand wrapped around the bottle the girl had filled with water for him, bringing the small spout to his lips. to him, the bottle was filled with liquid gold. 
he gulped it down thirstily, quickly finishing it with a sheepish look on his face. the girl across from him didn’t seem to notice, her head buried in paperwork sitting on a clipboard. “hey, what’s your name? i haven’t seen you around.” he didn’t want to interrupt her, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. 
“y/n. y/n y/l/n,” she answered, looking up from the sheet she was working on. a small smile persisted on her face, just as it had for the entirety of their short interaction that day. 
he noticed that it never left, just merely grew or shrunk. 
like a ray of sunshine, he thought. 
“i like that,” percy admitted, “it suits you, y’know? like, you definitely look like a y/n.”
“well, thank you? i think?” she laughed out, quickly gauging percy’s personality. He just nodded in response, then looked down at his hands, playing mindlessly with the loose thread of the old blanket.
she turned over the paper on the clipboard before sliding it under her arm the wood feeling smooth against her skin. she clapped her hands together, “well, physically, you look great. you can leave whenever you feel good enough to,” she stated, assuming the boy still felt decently tired. 
once again, percy’s only response was a nod, causing the y/n to just stand there, and awkward silence falling over them. 
“well…” the girl trailed off, “i’m gonna go, maybe i’ll see you around.” she added the last bit after, her smile widening. she looked to him for a reaction. he smiled back at her. she took that as a signal to leave, making percy suddenly wish he had asked her to stay longer. he could smell the scent of her perfume as it wanted over him, enveloping him with the fragrance. 
he watched as she passed by the open doorway a couple times, likely attending to other sick or wounded half-bloods. he was never too close with anyone from the apollo cabin, but suddenly he felt himself taking an interest in the group of teens. he was well aware that the conversations with y/n had only lasted mere minutes, but felt a connection with her on some level. he didn’t know why or how, but he did. 
he shortly felt himself growing tired again, a sudden shine of the sun washing over him as it set into the evening. it warmed him enough for him to discard the thin blanket atop his body. the fabric fell to the floor, he’d pick it up later. the boy turned away from the sun, feeling its’ heat against his bare back, causing a smile to grace his pink lips. he tucked his arms under the pillow he was lying on, adding more support beneath his head, letting him drift into a comfortable sleep. 
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taglist : @iamforeverandalwaystired, message me or leave it here to be added!
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pretty-toru · 1 year
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lovesick┆gojo satoru
୧ genre: fluff
୧ wc: 1.4k
୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.
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Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.
How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.
But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.
No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.
"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.
"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.
"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."
"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.
"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"
"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.
"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"
"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.
"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."
As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."
"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."
"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.
"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"
"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.
"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."
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When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."
With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."
Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.
"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."
"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."
Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.
"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"
Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."
"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."
"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."
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strang3lov3 · 7 days
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Play Stupid Games
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Summary - Who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples? NOT ME!! (3.6k words)
Tags - implied age gap as Joel calls reader kiddo, Joel Miller Nipple Worship, almost sub!joel, for like 8 seconds max, sub to softdom!joel, unprotected Piv, nipple orgasm, premature ejaculation, come eating, thigh riding, fingering, Joel talks you through it. A/N - this ended up being something between a drabble and a fic. I don’t know what this is. God spoke to me and I listened.
Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal for cleaning this mess up, thank you @beefrobeefcal @tightjeansjavi and @joelsgreys for the encouragement I needed to finish this!
Joel’s sheets are scratchy yet soft, his walls are illuminated by the flickering light of his burning candles. Joel’s naked under his blankets, your naked body tangled up with his. Your head rests on his chest and you draw lazy patterns with your fingers on his soft, pillowy tummy as Joel reads Stephen King’s The Shining to you, turning the pages when he asks you to. This is your evening routine with him, and you’ll never tire of it. Sex first, then a shared shower, where Joel washes your hair and you wash his. He dries you off, then you go back to bed to snuggle and read a book together. You giggle at the way he always wears his glasses too far down his nose, and he lightly drags his nails along your scalp. His clean and masculine scent takes over your senses and that low, gravelly tone of his voice as he reads aloud to you usually puts you to sleep in no more than twenty minutes. 
“Turn the page for me, hon,” Joel asks.
You’re not so tired tonight. You’re watching Joel’s chest rise and fall, lost in your own world and not really paying attention to his reading. Instead, you’re watching his skin erupt in goosebumps as you trace his chest, toying with his sparse chest hair, lightly teasing his nipples, they’re a dark sort of mauve-brown color. Joel’s breath hitches as they pebble beneath your touch. 
He bounces his book lightly on the crown of your head. “You with me?”
“Mhm,” you hum, “Of course.”
“Mm,” Joel mumbles, not convinced. And he’s right to not believe you. You’re grinding against his thigh subtly, but not subtle enough for Joel to not notice. He smirks as you reach between his thighs, first cupping his balls and then playing with his cock, feeling him begin to thicken in your palm. “Ohh,” Joel grins, “That’s why you’re not listening.”
“I’m listening,” you reply, stroking his cock. It’s always such a satisfying feeling, running your thumb along the thickness of his head, feeling him twitch and grow harder. 
“Are ya? What’s happening right now?”
“Wendy…”
“Wrong,” he interrupts, “Try again.”
“Jack–”
“Danny,” Joel corrects, “What’s Danny doin’?” You don’t know the answer to that question, of course you don’t. Because you’re too distracted by what’s happening in your hand. “Exactly,” Joel says. He sets his book down on his stomach, the pages split to mark his place. He reaches under the covers and wraps his hand around your wrist, halting your movements. “You wore me out tonight, kiddo. I don’t have it in me to go again.”
It’s true, you did wear Joel out. It had been a few days since you’d last had him, and you were missing him dearly. Joel was gone all day, and you’d watched all three Indiana Jones movies, which didn’t help your case in the least. Fuck it, you might even be ovulating. You’re not exactly keeping track. Whoops.
You practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Dinner was made and the table set, but it remained untouched as you let Joel know just how much you missed him. Scrambling to unbuckle his belt, you walked him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. You wasted no time shimmying off your pants and pulling his own halfway down his thighs. He guided you to straddle his lap, his already rock-hard cock held loosely between his fingers.
Usually he’ll tease you a bit, make you beg and ache and cry for it as he drags his tip through your folds, toy with your clit for a moment before notching himself at your entrance. Today, upon realizing the severity of your need for him, he pulled your hips down on his cock, burying himself in you entirely. He let you adjust to him, feel the stretch and the ache of him inside you. No fingers to warm you up, no tongue, he simply gave all of himself to you. 
Once adjusted, he began to roll his hips, grunting in your ear as you moaned sweetly in his own. That patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, how his thick cock hit all of your sweetest spots with each of his deep, sloppy, and quick thrusts. He was relentless, just how you needed him. As he fucked you, he slid his hands up the softness of your tummy and your rib cage, then cupped your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples with his fingertips. 
Per your wishes, Joel had brought you to the edge and pushed you over it multiple times by the time it was all said and done. You came on his cock once and begged him to let you come once more, and then one more time after that before he finally let himself go. By the time you’d finished, the sun had gone down and dinner had gottencold. It could’ve been hours, and Joel was spent. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the shower, swaying back and forth as he flirted with the idea of falling asleep under the warm water running down his shoulders. 
-
“I’ll do all the work, Joel,” you offer as you squeeze his cock. “I just need you for a second.” 
“Charming. You lied to me twice just now,” Joel smirks, turning his head to look down at where your head rests on his shoulder. “Didn’t you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Oh, sure. You just need me for a second, huh? Can I time it?” You bite your cheek to hide your sheepish smile. You see his point, but you weren’t lying, just slightly misrepresenting the truth. “Yeah, and you know what else is a load of bullshit? I’ll do all the work, Joel,” he mocks, putting on his best girl voice and batting his eyelashes. 
You’re definitely not lying about that, though. “It’s true,” you argue, “I’ll–”
“Yeah, right. You ain’t done a lick of hard work in your life. You got me in the palm of your hand and you don’t gotta lift a damn finger to get what you want. Do you?”
You’re not answering that. Instead, holding up your pinkie finger, you swear to Joel, “I promise, I’ll do it all.”
Joel eyes you suspiciously before holding up his pinkie finger as well. You link fingers, kiss your thumb as he kisses his own, then smush them together. “S’a deal now, my darlin’.”
Joel first takes off his glasses, then dog-ears the page of his book to mark his place in the story before he sets both down on his nightstand. He raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering to you. You pull down the blankets and straddle him, your already wet pussy grinding against his now fully-hardened cock. You smile mischievously, biting your bottom lip as you pin his wrists to the bed on either side of his head. “Goddamn,” he drawls, “Am I nothin’ but a piece of meat to ya?”
“Mhm,” you reply, kissing his cheek and then his lips.
Joel smiles against your lips, “Alright, sweet girl. Show me what you got,” he mumbles. You pull back and Joel waits patiently, his wrists still pinned under your palm as you decide what you’re gonna do to him. You start first by grinding yourself against his member, garnering an amused smile from him as his tip catches against your clit and you moan. “Very nice,” he praises, “Gimme some more.”
Still grinding on his cock, you kiss his lips again, then down his jaw, down his neck, biting and sucking as you do so. “No marks,” he warns, squeezing your ass. 
“I know, Joel,” you whisper, continuing your trail of kisses down his chest, down his tummy and back up again. You line yourself up with his cock and sink down on him, experimentally licking a nipple at the same time. Joel shivers. You do it again, this time gently teasing his other nipple with your fingers. 
“What are you doin’, kiddo,” Joel murmurs quietly. 
“Nothing, Joel.”
“I think you’re lyin’ again. Think you’re causin’ trouble.”
“I’m taking care of you.”
“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know–” you hum against him, sending vibrations through his skin. You’re grinding on him as you do so, rubbing your clit against that patch of hair at the base of his cock, taking in all of him - the feeling of him inside you, how you’re pulsing around him. His smell, his warm and thick body underneath yours. He’s breathing heavily, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he squeezes your ass and your sides, his fingertips digging into your skin so hard it hurts. He seems almost desperate. 
“Don’t know what, Joel?”
“I don’t - fuck, ohh god, please, please–” Holy fuck, he’s begging, and you didn’t even know he could do that. You’re not sure what he’s begging for - more, less, go, stop. “Why’re you teasin’ me like this, sweetheart, why’re–”
“I’m not doing anything, Joel,” you smile against his skin. You’re trying it all out now, with one of his nipples you’re using your fingers to twist and tease him, feeling him jolt and tremble with your touch. With your mouth, you’re using your tongue - tracing the outline of his areola, swirling your tongue in a spiral to reach his sensitive bud. And then you switch, using your tongue on the nipple previously occupied by your teasing fingertips. 
“Bullshit. You’re—fuuuuuck,” Joel lets out a long groan, his cock twitching inside of you as he squirms underneath you. “I can feel you smirkin’.You’re testin’ my patience. You need, I need, Christ–you’re startin’ something you’re not gonna like finishing.”
He’s warning you that this might be a mistake, but this only fuels your fire. It’s always you who’s squirming and crying and whimpering, begging for god knows what as Joel grins above you, torturing your clit and promising you that it’ll all be okay, that you’re not gonna break. 
You’ve got him reduced to a mess, he’s moaning and whimpering, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knit together. You can feel in his touch that he’s conflicted, squeezing you tighter yet itching to push you away. His skin is tingling, his balls tightening as you clench around him, still grinding yourself ever so slightly on his pelvis. You’re making a sloppy mess of his chest with your mouth, all spit covered as you circle his nipples with the tip of your tongue, rolling the bud gently and carefully between your teeth. It’s torturously pleasurable when you begin to suck and nip at his nipples and Joel thinks he’s gonna–
“Fuck, Christ, oh my god, oh my god, mmm-ohhhh.”
He’s spilling into you, surprising both you and himself. He comes loudly and desperately, all needy whimpers and cries as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his warm, sticky spend. Grabbing you and holding you tight, his grip easing as his breaths begin to even and he eventually goes still. You rest on his chest, feeling him leak out of you. When you finally sit up to admire your work, Joel’s got his eyes closed, his cheeks are rosy. A few tears running down his face and when you wipe them away, he opens his eyes. 
“You look proud of yourself,” he tells you. His tone is pointed yet quiet, like he’s bashful. “Learned a new trick, huh.” 
“I did,” you smile. He’s gone soft inside of you and you get up off of him, but Joel pulls you back down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”
“Just to the–”
“Sit back down. I ain’t finished with you,” Here it comes. You anticipated Joel getting revenge in some way or another, but you’re not sure how he plans to. Maybe he’ll lay you on your back, lick you until you cry the way you did to him. He might bring you to the edge over and over and over again, yet never push you past it. Or he’ll make you come until your legs twitch and shake uncontrollably, and you’re a sweaty, sobbing mess of overstimulation. He’s done it all before and you know he’s not opposed to doing it again. “You’re gonna hold up your end of the bargain. Do some hard work for once in your life.”
You begin to protest, “I already did.” 
“That don’t count. You cheated and found a loophole. You wanted me, so you’re gonna have me,” You’re not sure what he means or what he wants from you. You thought you did already have him. “Get on your knees, kiddo,” Joel says, slapping his bare thigh. When you pause, Joel nudges you and guides you to straddle his thigh. “Like this,” he says. 
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel drawls, “I gave you a hint already.”
He’s placed you on his thigh. He says you wanted him, so you’re gonna have him. But you’ve made him come already, so that means–
“I can’t do that.”
“You started this, you’re comin’ one way or another,” he says. “You’re not getting up until you do it. You’d best get to it.”
His tone is serious, but you’re sure this has to be some sort of game. He watches you, how you furrow your brows in confusion. Joel sits up and adjusts a few pillows behind himself, spreads his legs further apart and holds your ass cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Rock your hips f’me.”
Slowly, you rock your hips on his thigh. You can’t feel much except for the mess you’re making on his leg, your arousal and his spend. It’s all awkward - the clunky and graceless rolling of your hips, the quietness in the room as Joel watches you intently. You shift your thighs, holding on to one of Joel’s hips and one of his shoulders as you rock your hips, trying to feel anything at all. You do - just for a second, maybe. “Keep goin’,” he tells you while drawing lazy patterns on your thigh, but you’re not sure that you can keep going. The expectant look on Joel’s face has you feeling uncomfortable. Not the bad kind of we need to stop this now uncomfortable, but just sort of puzzled. Joel could have tortured you with his teasing and he probably would have gotten a better result. He seems to know this, so he begins to guide your hips again. You’re not sure how he does it, but he finds the perfect angle and he knows this when you moan for him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Like that,” he instructs. 
You do your best to mimic the action, but it’s just not happening. He must’ve been flexing his thigh, or the way he moved your hips is a way that you can’t replicate without help for some reason. Frustrated, you slump down onto his chest. “I can’t do it.”
“You’re gonna have to,” Joel coos. 
You shake your head, “No, no. I want–just fuck me. I want you inside me, I can’t come without you inside me.”
“Yeah, I know you want me inside ya. Can’t do nothin’ about that on account of what you did to me, now can I?”
You whine and groan in irritation. “Then I need you to do the w–” you press your lips in a thin line. Oops. 
“Work,” Joel adds for you, finishing your sentence. “S’that what I’m hearin’? You need me to do the work?” You nod your head, it’s worth a shot. Maybe. “Not gonna happen, hon. We shook on it.” You pout, whining and groaning again. Joel strokes the skin of your back, “Oh, I know, I know,” he coos, feigning sympathy. “Let this be a lesson to ya then, kiddo. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”
“Joel,” you protest.
“Joel,” he mocks. “Come on, get up. Get to work.” Joel pushes you back, forcing you to sit back up on his thigh. Generously, he helps you find that movement once more. Where your hips tilt at just the right angle and you can feel the pressure of his thick thigh against your clit. “Right there,” you gasp, holding his hand on your hip. “Nuh-uh,” Joel shakes his head and pulls his arms back, crossing them on his tummy. 
It’s okay. You’re gonna figure this out. You brace yourself on Joel’s shoulders as you search for that sweet spot on your own. Within a couple of minutes, you think you find it. You’re alternating between feeling good, better, worse, then to worse, good, and better. At moments it’s great, and then it just…disappears. And at this point, you’re exhausted. It’s been god knows how long since you even found yourself on Joel’s lap in the first place. You groan, resigning yourself to defeat. You’re about to get off of Joel’s thigh when he grabs your bicep. “Aw, come on kiddo. You givin’ up that easy?”
“Yeah,” you tell him, your tone saying all that you’re feeling. Dejection, frustration, disappointment. 
Joel shakes his head, “M’not lettin’ ya.”
“Joel–”
“Deep breath in and out for me,” he instructs, and you roll your eyes. He repeats himself, “Deep breath. In. And. Out. Do it now.” And so, not wanting to make this any worse for yourself and just wanting to get it over and done with, you close your eyes. You breathe in deeply, letting your tummy expand with his instruction, then exhale your breath fully. “You need to settle down,” he says as you continue your breaths. “S’it. Nice an’ slow.” 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “It’s just hard.”
“Know it’s hard. What’d we talk about though, hm? Hard work, right?” you nod your head, “Yeah,” Joel says, “I know. You’re gonna work for it, sweet girl. I’ve been spoilin’ ya.” A few more deep breaths, and Joel speaks again, “M’not gonna do it for you, but I’ll walk you through it if you’d like.”
“Yes,” you beg, your eyes flying open. “Please. Help me.”
“Least you’ve still got your manners,” Joel smiles. He reaches for your knees then, spreading them wide. “Tilt your hips forward, sweetheart, and rock ‘em on me,” he tells you. “What feels good? Back and forth, left and right?”
“Back and forth.” 
“Then do it.”
 And so you do it, just like you’ve been doing this whole goddamn time. Joel watches in your face that you’re not quite there yet, but he encourages you anyway. “That’s it, you’re gettin’ it. Tilt down a bit.”
You’re rocking your hips on his thigh, grinding against him, and with his advice it finally, finally feels good. “Fuck,” you moan. 
“Again,” he instructs, “Keep goin’.”
You grind on him, this time with more intent. Faster and harder, having found that sweet feeling that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, you savor it.
“Good girl,” Joel praises. And then as if to reward you for your hard work, Joel reaches between your thighs and finds your clit with his middle and ring fingers, giving you something extra to enjoy. He’s circling your clit as you move your hips, and when that feeling in your stomach begins to build, you ride him  more intensely, chasing after that high you so desperately need, that you’ve worked so hard for. 
“Need it–need you, Joel, don’t stop, don’t–”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time, kiddo, I’m right here.” 
“You’re here,” you nod, your brows furrowed together and you’re almost unable to speak, too focused on the prospect of release. 
Your velvety folds soaked in Joel’s come and your own arousal. “I’m– fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you moan.
“I know you are, keep goin’,” Joel coos, “You’re right there, just let it happen. Gimme a good one, sweetheart,” You feel your orgasm building to a new edge when you hear him say, “Come for me.”
All it takes is that one command, laced with Joel’s encouragement, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge. Your long-awaited orgasm begins at your core and travels through you, washing over you with pulsing waves of pleasure. “Joel,” you moan breathless and needy, writhing on top of him. You feel it everywhere, in your spine and down your thighs. Your clit twitching, your walls pulsing around nothing as you ride him.
“That’s it, kiddo, there it is. Good girl,” Joel coos. “Did so good.” 
With a soft moan, you fall limp next to Joel, steadying your breath.  
A moment passes. “Finish the job,” he whispers.
“What are you talking about?”
 “You made your mess on me, so you’re gonna clean it up. Part of the deal, sweetheart,” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on his thigh, then swipes his middle two fingers through the mess and pushes it between your lips, “You know what to do. Lick it up,” he instructs. 
It’s not lost on him, the hypocrisy of having you clean up a mess that he had you make. But like he asked, you do it. You’ll do it every time he asks. He holds your hair back as you lick the mess from his thigh, savoring that slightly salty, masculine flavor he knows you love. “Such a good girl. You ready to go to sleep?”
“No,” you yawn, and Joel puts on his glasses again, opens the book back up and reads you the story. You’re sleeping on his chest in minutes. 
If you enjoyed, please please please reblog, leave me a comment, or send me an ask. Your words go a long way and keep me motivated to write 🩷
Forgot to add cat pics!!! I add these at the end of my fics now
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softbeej · 25 days
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alastor cumming from just getting his ears touched by reader?
oh you may!!
Jazz & Liquor (Alastor x Reader smut)
“Ah, whiskey is your poison, I see? Mind If I have a glass? Always puts me right to bed.” Alastor asked, as you were curled up in the library with a scratchy record playing in the background.
“Be my guest!” You insisted, pouring him a healthy glass which he took with a wink before sitting beside you on the sofa.
“Reading anything interesting?” He questioned. He must be really sleepy; he always got a bit more touchy feely and talkative with exhaustion.
You shook your head no, closing the book and giving him your full attention.
“Just a old mystery novel, is all...”
He nodded, listening but clearly uninterested, “What brings you down here? You’re usually up in the radio tower at this time. Is everything okay?”
The attention was finally on him, and he visibly perked up at this.
“I’ve not managed to get much sleep these past few nights. Just wanted a little change of scenery, you see. Oh, how boring it can get up there all on my lonesome. You can visit, you know?”
You smiled, he was basically begging you to spend time with him. If you were to go up there, what would he even have you do? There’s only one chair up there - strictly his. There’s not even a sofa up there, it’s almost as if he specifically designed the room to deter anyone from loitering up there. You supposed, he could have you sit on his lap as he worked. Or he could have you just sit cross legged at his feet.
You almost shook your head to get rid of these thoughts, “Well, thank you, Alastor. I’ll certainly keep that in mind- Oh!”
With that, Alastor’s head was on your lap. He’d slowly been sinking into you as you were speaking, before his head just grew too heavy and landed in your lap. Almost immediately after he realised, his lazy eyes shot open, blushing and utterly embarrassed as he started blabbing a string of apologies at you.
You shushed him immediately of course.
“Al, Al, it’s fine! You sleep, you clearly need too...” You insisted as you gently lowered his head back down. He pulled his legs up on the sofa too, getting more comfortable. You scanned the room for a blanket for him, but didn’t want to disturb him.
Your nails raked through his hair as his eyes fluttered closed. Then, he purred as you continued. Your face reddened and you almost gasped.
“You like that? Feel nice?”
He nodded, “Mm...”
He probably wanted to downplay how much he liked it, but his involuntary purring clearly gave him away.
You kept scratching his head, moving closer to the base of his ears, where his hair changed into fluffy fur. His purring grew louder and rougher, giving you butterflies. His breath caught in his throat, and he let out a strange noise.
“Keep going? Feels... Good...” He said. Whatever butterflies you were feeling, he was clearly feeling tenfold, if you had to guess by the strawberry red blush covering his cheeks.
“Relax, Alastor... I’m here, relax...” You cooed.
You smiled to yourself as you saw his cock hard in his pants, straining the fabric and threatening the seams. Would he will it to go away? Excuse himself as he sorted his situation? Or just lay there seeing it through to completion?
His heavy eyelids fluttered open a little to watch you with blown pupils as you continued scratching, paying special attention to his ears now. You smiled as they flitted and twitched at even the lightest touch, and how he shivered in sync. You noticed he started to buck his hips up ever so slightly, as a nice wet patch of precum began seeping through the crotch of his pants.
Not like he cared, though. Instead he bucked his hips up harder, eyebrows knitting together as his tummy grew hot with arousal. With a final couple of rubs of his ears, he came hard right in his pants with an almost pathetic moan. His face relaxed, but his hips kept twitching involuntarily with aftershocks of the intense orgasm. The next thing you knew, you heard a deep breath and looked down to see him fast asleep. He’d have to deal with that mess in the morning, you thought as you drifted off.
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avatar-anna · 7 months
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It's Hard When We Argue
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You quietly walked downstairs into the kitchen, a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You felt hungover, like your entire body had been put through the ringer even though you hadn't had a sip of alcohol last night. For a moment, your chest tightened with anticipation, not sure if you were dreading or hoping Harry would be in the kitchen. He wasn't, but from the kitchen window, you could see the back of his head as he sat on the back porch.
Your mind returned to last night briefly, all the harsh words you shouted at each other and the tears that were shed. You'd never felt so angry and frustrated and hurt in your life, at least not with Harry. He was the one person you could always feel safe and comfortable with. You knew couples fought, you knew that disagreements happened, but that wasn't you and Harry. Maybe you were naive enough to think that you and Harry were so in sync that you would never argue, or at least have a huge blowout argument like the one you had last night, but it had been so smooth sailing since you got together.
Before you went outside, you fixed up two cups of coffee, making sure one of them was the way Harry liked it. You took both of them outside, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Harry didn't even look up when the glass door opened and closed. He's still mad, you thought. He's so angry he won't even look at me.
"Coffee?" you asked, voice scratchy and raw.
"Mm. Sure, thanks."
Tears welled in your eyes. Here you were, trying to extend an olive branch and talk about your fight last night, and he wouldn't even look at you. Harry stayed sitting on the porch swing, one hand covering his mouth as he looked out at the yard in front of him. Just days ago, you were daydreaming about playing with future kids in that same backyard, and now...Now you didn't know what the future held.
"I think we should talk—"
"Y/n, I really don't think that I can right now," Harry said, running a tired hand over his face. He had bags under his eyes, and his facial hair was more grown out and unkempt than usual. He looked exhausted. And upset. And you didn't know what to do to bridge the yawning gap between you.
"O—Okay," you said, trying to hide the fact that you were on the verge of tears. "Are you—"
"I'm gonna go for a run," he said quickly, pushing off on his knees and standing up.
Harry turned and saw you standing with the two cups of coffee in your hands, one of which he had still yet to take. His face softened a fraction then, his hand reaching out like he wanted to rest it on your shoulder, but he stopped halfway before walking around you and heading out. You flinched when the door slammed shut, tears finally leaking out of your eyes.
Everything was so messed up. You hated this icy tension that was growing between you and Harry, and you worried you wouldn't be able to fix things. Harry was the stubborn type, he always had been, but you'd never seen him be so cold toward you. It killed you.
With Harry out of the house, all you were able to do was think about the argument.
It started out so small, so inconsequential that you almost couldn't understand how you ended up here in the first place.
Harry had been coming home late recently, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but now that he was back from tour, you thought you would get to spend your nights together. But he kept coming home late, and you were never much of a night owl, so it just felt like he was doing it on purpose. You missed him, that was all. All you wanted was to spend time with your boyfriend. To talk about your day and ask him about his and cuddle up together in bed.
"Are you avoiding me?" you asked when he came home late again. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to broach the subject, but you made a mistake by scrolling on Twitter where rumors always ran rampant, so you were a little more upset than normal.
Harry obviously didn't respond well to the harsh accusations you were throwing at him, despising how you jumped to the absolute worst conclusions. He accused you of not trusting him even though you did, but he wouldn't listen, and you couldn't find a way to say you just wanted him around more, not when anger had sunk so deep in the heat of the argument. The argument devolved from there until you went to your separate corners—you to the bedroom and Harry downstairs, presumably on the couch. There were so many cruel accusations thrown around, and so many more things left unsaid, but maybe last night had gone too far. Maybe this was it, and Harry was avoiding the most difficult conversation of all—the breakup conversation.
So you did what you should've done last night. You were going to avoid it altogether.
You anxiously cleaned up around the house for a while, scrubbing down countertops and vacuuming floors and folded laundry, tears occasionally leaking out of your eyes the longer Harry stayed out. You knew he could run for ages, especially when he was in a mood, but you couldn't sit around and wait for him to come back and tell you he wanted to take a break or break up or pick up right where you left off the night before.
Quickly and with shaking hands, you went upstairs and began to pack, tossing things in your overnight bag haphazardly. Some of it could've been yours, and some of it might've been Harry's, you weren't really paying attention, you just needed to get out for a while. If Harry could run, so could you.
Your last step was slipping into your shoes, which you kept by the front door. You were balancing on one foot trying to get your shoe on when the front door opened. Harry breezed in, running shorts high up on his thighs and baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, which were covered by sunglasses. He was so focused on whatever was playing in his airpods that he nearly bumped into you.
"Sorry, I wasn't—Where are you going?" Harry asked, eyeing the bag at your feet.
"I think I'm gonna stay at my mom's for a few days," you said, picking the bag up and hiking it over your shoulder.
"What—Why?"
He looked frantic as he took a step toward you, but you took one back. "It's clear to me that you need space, so I'm just going to step back and let you—"
"See, you're doing it again. You're assuming," Harry said, taking his hat off to run his hand through his hair. "Y/n, if we are going to be in a relationship together, I need you to talk to me, not just assume what I'm thinking."
"I—I'm sorry," you said, realizing he was right. Your assumptions were what got you into this mess. It was so easy for you to get lost in your own head sometimes. "I said things that I shouldn't have last night, and this morning you couldn't even look at me, and I—"
"Y/n," Harry said, effectively cutting you off. He took his sunglasses off, and you got a good look at his eyes for the first time since last night. They were red and watery, like he'd spent his entire run crying. Seeing him so upset made your heart squeeze with guilt. You didn't mean for all of this to happen, but you didn't know how to find your way out of it, either. "I hate that we fought last night. You're not the only one who said shitty things. I—I feel awful. I couldn't stand to see you so upset but I was still a little frustrated from last night and I didn't want the first thing I said to you this morning be something that would lead to another argument. I'm sorry that you thought I wanted you to leave. I don't."
"You promise?"
Harry stepped toward you again and this time you didn't step back, letting him take your face in his hands. "I know I got defensive and things got out of hand, but I heard you, and you were right. Not about the avoiding you part, but I...have been absent, and I'm sorry for that too. I just...you know I hate the cheating accusations. I would never cheat on you, Y/n. Ever."
You nodded, knowing he was right. Accusing Harry of cheating was a low blow, one you resorted to so he would hurt the way you did. He'd called you insecure and needy and that you weren't his mother and didn't need to report to you about his whereabouts all the time. It made your blood boil, seeing as all you wanted was to spend quality time with your boyfriend after so much time apart. So you went for the jugular. You hated yourself for using an insecurity he confided in you about against him, hated that it had its desired effect.
Nodding, you said, "B—But why have you been gone so much?" you asked. "I thought after the tour was over you would...be around more."
Harry took you by the hand and led you away from the door, taking your bag from you and tossing it away unceremoniously and muttering about you leaving being ridiculous. It made you giggle, which felt good after a night of feeling absolutely awful. You thought he was going to lead you to the couch, but he brought you over to the kitchen instead, taking you by surprise when he hoisted you up on the counter.
"I haven't cheated on you, I swear," Harry repeated. "I've been—I can't tell you what I've been doing, but I need you to trust that it's all been for a good reason. Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, my love?"
You shook your head. Now you were dying to know what he was up to all the nights he stayed out late, but despite the argument last night, you trusted Harry.
"I don't like it when we fight," you said softly, playing with the pearl ring on his finger. "Can we agree to never do that again?"
Harry grinned before leaning forward to kiss you. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck to hold him close. When he pulled back, he kissed the top of your head, then your cheek.
"I can't promise we'll never fight again, but I promise to fight and make up with you for the rest of my life. How's that sound?"
Your ears perked up, your thumb rubbing over his cheek. Both of you looked like wrecks, but you didn't want to run from him, and he wasn't running away from you, either. It was a bad night. Maybe there would be more, but Harry was right. If you had to argue every once in a while with someone, it might as well be him.
"You don't really think I'm needy, do you?" you asked. It was the last wrinkle you needed to smoothe over before everything was set to rights.
Harry shook his head, picking you up off the counter and heading for the stairs. "If anyone's needy in this relationship, it's me."
"I think it's safe to say we're both pretty dependent," you mused, enjoying being so close to him after a night apart. He was a little sweaty from his run, but you didn't mind. You just wanted to feel his body against yours.
He set you down in the master bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, turning the water on in the shower while you quickly got undressed and helped him out of his clothes. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as your fingers traced the hard planes of his stomach, admiring all the curves and ridges and smiling when goosebumps appeared under his skin.
Harry leaned down to kiss you, but you stopped him just before he could, placing your fingers over his lips. "I know you said it was for a good reason, and I believe you, but you—are you able to come home earlier? At least just a few days out of the week? I—I miss falling asleep next to you."
"Of course," he said. A look flashed across his face that you couldn't read, but it was gone before you could make sense of it, replaced by a cheeky grin as he pulled you into the shower with him.Trust me, by the time the day is over, you're gonna be sick of me."
Giddiness spread through your whole body, replacing every horrible and awful feeling that had lingered from the night before. With one hand on his chest, you pushed Harry up against the cool tile wall of the shower, reaching up on your toes to kiss him hard. The water made your bodies slippery, and the steam made you both a little breathless, but you didn't care, you just wanted to feel him, breathe him in deep, never let him go.
This secret Harry was keeping from you would most likely gnaw at the back of your mind until he eventually told you, but you would do your best to respect his wishes, to trust him like you said you did. Right now, you were content with the fact that despite the fight, he heard you, and you understood his side. That seemed like a good enough conclusion for you.
And maybe a little arguing wasn't so bad if each one ended just like this.
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galacticgraffiti · 7 months
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⋆☾⋆ Big Love Ahead ⋆☽⋆
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!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!
Summary: Halsin rescues you after you get hurt in a fight, and you get to spend some time with him during the spring and summer months as he nurses you back to health. And maybe, you start to wonder what it would be like if his hands touched you for different reasons than just to heal you…
Rating: Mature/Explicit (for horny nudity not smut) Wordcount: 4.5k Descriptors: The first two chapters are fairly genderneutral. Reader's physique is not really described aside from being quite a bit shorter and smaller than Halsin. CW: Fluff, softness, (physical) hurt/comfort, being nursed back to health by Halsin, pet names, this is achingly sweet, flirting, banter, oblivious pining, rated explicit for the eventual smut in chapters to come
✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦
⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆
Chapter 1: The Druid
He is the one who finds you.
Heavy footsteps make the earth vibrate beneath you, then soft fur presses against your bloodied cheek. You let it happen only because you can’t escape. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, if you are honest with yourself, and you are quite sure this is just a dream.
Surely, it must be a dream, right? To be lifted, not by paws but big, strong hands, to be carried out of that violent grove that nearly became your grave. To be placed upon the softest thing you have ever felt, and to see skin turn into fur once more as he lays beside you. Surely, a dream.
You close your eyes, and you drift off.
*****
When you wake up, you are disoriented beyond all hells, and alone.
Your entire body aches, but when you look down, you see that all your wounds have been mended and wrapped in neat bandages. Some of them smell of forest and herbs, others of things you have no words for describing.
Sitting up makes your head spin, so you decide to close your eyes again. Just… for a moment.
*****
It’s night when you wake up, though once you think about it, you are not sure how you know. Was it this dark the last time you woke up? You think there was some light - you saw the bandages, you could see the shape of your body beneath the sheets… But now, there is just darkness, so black it scares you, heavy like a blanket made from a thousand deaths.
Your heart starts to race, and you feel yourself breaking out in sweats as you think about your lost friends - all of them laying bloodied and broken on the battlefield like dolls, with slit throats and arrows in their hearts.
You groan in pain when you sit up, and the edges of your vision start to blur.
“Careful, now.”
The voice startles you. It comes from the opposite end of whatever room you are in, too far away for you to reach out and touch, and even with all your squinting, you can’t see anyone. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly.
“Who are you? Why did you bring me here?” Your voice is scratchy and raw, and your throat burns from the dryness. You cough, doubling over as you try to inhale some air to fill your desperate lungs.
“Shh, don’t die on me now, little flower.” 
The voice is much closer now, and out of habit, your hand slides down your thigh to where you usually keep your knife. It’s not there - of course it’s not, you are not wearing anything more than you’d need to guarantee the smallest amount of decency.
Panic rises in your chest, a sour taste coating your tongue.
“Who are you?” You repeat, out of breath from those few words.
“I saved you.” A flame is lit only a few feet away from you, and your eyes hurt from the sudden light. You squint, trying to get used to it. All you can see is the faint silhouette of a… man. A broad-backed man, taller than you have ever seen, with long hair and a gentle face. Pointed ears peek out from beneath soft curls, and you stare at him. 
An elf? With this… frame? Who the hells is this guy?
He looks at you calmly, patiently waiting for your reaction.
“Saved me?” The question makes you cough again. A hand appears in front of your face, offering you a waterskin. You accept it without much hesitation - what choice do you have? If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now.
The water hurts as much as it helps - cool and fresh as it runs down your dry throat. You take a few careful sips and damn near end up coughing your lungs out again. The hand takes the water away from you gently.
“That’s enough for now. Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.” His voice speaks more of concern than command. You let go, pressing back into your little corner.
“You didn’t answer my question,” you say finally. “Who are you?”
The man steps back into the shadows, his back turned to you. He is scarred and marked in ways only people from the wilds ever are, and that calms you a little. He is not a soldier.
“Rest for now,” he says. “We will talk when you wake again.”
You want to object, but large, warm hands press you down into your soft bedding again and pull the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes flutter closed - you are tired, so tired still. Distantly, you wonder how much time has passed since the grove.
“Wait,” you whisper, your hand finding his larger one in the dark. Your fingers curl weakly.
“What is it? Something you need?” Once again, his only feeling seems to be concern.
You slowly shake your head and regret the motion immediately when you taste blood on your tongue.
“No, I don’t- just… thank you.”
He stills in your weak grasp. Moments pass, then finally, his voice comes again, sounding oddly sad.
“You are welcome, little one.”
*****
You find a rhythm after that, sleeping and waking. Sometimes he’s around, sometimes he is not. You realise that the supposed room you are in is little more than a cave decked out in some essentials.
After a few days, you finally learn his name: Halsin.
Halsin looks after you, and you don’t question why. He does not talk much, but the look on his face never makes you doubt that the only thing he wants is for you to get better.
You drink more water, and after a few days, Halsin finally allows you to eat: Stew, not much, fed to you by his large hand holding a spoon that seems much too small for him.
When the food stays down, Halsin allows you to eat more and more, and you get some of your strength back. Your body still hurts, but all your bones seem to be in the right place - though some are definitely still broken, as you discover when you try to lay on your side.
Some days after you first remember waking up, you manage to sit up all by yourself and your fingers can hold the spoon for the first time. Halsin watches you carefully, whittling away as you eat a bowl of stew. And another. And another.
“Someone was hungry,” he smiles.
“Hungry as a bear,” you grin. He furrows his brow. You swear his eyes seem golden, but it’s probably just the light of the fire. He stares into the darkness for a moment, then puts his knife to the side. Before you can ask him what is wrong, he is gone.
****
Halsin returns the next day, back to his usual self. You wouldn’t quite call it ‘chipper’, but none of the worry that graced his features yesterday seems to remain. You decide it is wisest not to ask about it. If there is something you need to talk about, he will tell you in time.
When Halsin tucks you into bed that night as has become his habit, you notice - not for the first time - how good he smells: Of fresh grass and summer rain, of wood and smoked leather. You become acutely aware that you yourself have not had a bath in quite some time.
“Halsin?” You bite your tongue, feeling awkward about asking.
“What is it?”
“Do you… well. I think I should take a bath.”
Halsin cocks his head. You can see the cogs in his head turning, behind his soft, round features. He crosses his arms, and your heart flutters at the sheer swell of his biceps. You shake your head to shoo the unwelcome thought away.
“Well. there is a stream close to the cave…” he says slowly.
You nod excitedly.
“Perfect! I can-”
“You are still very injured, little flower,” he interrupts you - not rudely, but firmly. “You can barely stand up, let alone walk all the way there. The stream is dangerous, and I do not want you injuring yourself-”
“Carry me, then,” you propose hastily, more in jest than anything else. A small smile tugs on the corners of Halsin’s eyes.
“You can’t stand on your own either, and only one of your arms has healed enough for you to wash yourself.” He quirks a brow. “Have you got a solution for that too, little one?”
“You can wash me,” you suggest, this time fully certain he will recognise the joke.
Halsin chuckles to himself and shakes his head.
“All that effort- for what? Your wounds are clean, and you are getting better every day. Have I not taken care of you? Is there something I missed? If you tell me-”
“You smell good,” you say before you can think about your words. Halsin’s eyes widen by the smallest fraction, but he stays quiet, so you drone on. “You smell like forest and fresh pine, and meanwhile, I have been wasting away in this cave for weeks now. I want to… I don’t know. I want to feel like less of a burden, I suppose. I want to feel like myself again.”
“Oh.” Halsin takes your hand, very gently, like a doctor calming his patient. It still makes your heart race. “You are not a burden. Taking care of you has been my privilege.”
“You’re sweet,” you whisper. Halsin lets go of you.
“Do you… do you think a bath would help you feel better?” he asks, his voice serious. “I know I don’t provide much entertainment-”
“I like it when you are around,” you admit quietly. “I like watching you whittle. Your presence calms me.”
At that, Halsin lets out a roaring laugh that takes you totally by surprise - so much so that you simply fall into laughing with him. You cannot grasp what he could be laughing about, but seeing him so happy - knowing you are the one who made him laugh - it makes your heart stumble.
“Fine,” Halsin says when he can breathe again. “Alright, little one, if a bath is what you want, a bath is what you shall get.”
*****
When he returns the next day, for the first time, you notice that you have no idea where he sleeps. He laughs the questions off as he looks over your various wounds and ailments.
These inspections have become a ritual that both excites and frightens you: It excites you because it means Halsin’s big hands on your body, stroking, nearly caressing, touching (almost) every inch of you. It frightens you because you are scared he will notice how much you like it. And it scares you to think that one day, there might not be anything for him to look at - and when your wounds are healed, where will you go?
 You scoot to the front of your makeshift bed when Halsin asks you to, dangling your feet over the edge. When he kneels between your thighs to examine a particularly deep cut in your upper thigh, it takes all your strength not to cup his jaw and ask him to kiss you.
You daydream yourself away - dream of the way his hands look on you, of the way the light bounces off his irises and makes it seem like they are glowing. You dream of his lips and how soft they might be against yours, and you try to remember that feeling when he first found you - the softness of fur - might it have been his hair?
“Alright,” Halsin declares, interrupting your yearning thoughts. 
“Alright?” you ask, looking down at him. He stands, suddenly towering over you. You swallow thickly.
“I think… it’s time for my little patient to have a bath.” He smiles and offers you his hand. You feel like you have been punched in the stomach when he calls you his patient. Is that all you are to him? Just some… girl he needs to heal? Someone he found and took responsibility for? Still, you take his hand and slide off the bed.
Your legs give in nearly the second they touch the ground, but Halsin’s strong arms are there to catch you. He lifts you like you weigh no more than a feather. His arms feel familiar, and comfortable, and like you could fall asleep in them forever and ever. You sigh happily and snuggle against his broad chest.
When you realise what you are doing, your eyes snap open, terrified of your own actions.
“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Halsin’s chest shakes against you.
“No need to apologise. I am happy you feel comfortable in my presence.”
“Mhhm.” You try to hide your face as best you can, lest he recognise the emotions that must be showing.
Halsin carries you carefully, stopping as you get closer to the light near the entrance of the cave.
“Close your eyes, little one. You haven’t been outside in quite a while, and the sun is bright today.”
You follow his instructions, pressing your eyes shut. The air smells fresh and sweet when he steps out of the cave, and the rays of sun that dance on your face warm you from the inside out. You blink carefully, lids still half closed as you take in your surroundings: The formation of rocks that makes up your cave, the meadow below you, the quiet gurgle of a stream behind a grove of trees.
“Oh.” The noise is barely more than a breath that escapes you, but when you look up at Halsin, a bright smile illuminates his features.
“Beautiful, is it not?”
“Yes!” you nod your head enthusiastically, too distracted by the beauty around you to notice the way Halsin’s eyes linger on your face.
“I am glad you think so.” His arms tighten around you for a moment as he adjusts his stance. “Are you feeling alright? The place I had in mind is not far.”
“I am wonderful,” you assure him, closing your eyes as you bask in the sun. You never noticed how much you missed all of this until now. Halsin’s company is the best you could imagine, but the cave gets lonely from time to time. You like being outside, hearing the birds sing again, watching the clouds that sail through the sky above.
“Right then,” Halsin nods. “Onwards we go.”
It really is not a long walk - it barely takes a minute. The quiet corner of the river is tucked between two bends, next to a big weeping willow. It’s warm outside, much warmer than you expected, and you dare to hope the water might not be ice cold.
Halsin stops right next to a small pool of water, set apart from the rest of the river by a few stones, carefully placed - much too neat to be a natural occurrence.
“I made a bath for you,” he says, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I knew you could never withstand the current, not in the shape you are in, and…”
You look up at him, awed by his care and affection.
“Thank you,” you whisper. Halsin smiles quietly.
“Whatever I can do to help, it’s my pleasure.” He points at the pool with his chin. “Do you think this will suffice?”
“Oh, it will more than suffice,” you nod, practically vibrating with excitement. Finally, after all this time, a bath. Feeling clean again. 
Halsin seems to consider something, his brow furrowed with concern.
“I did not think about… where to put you down.”
You look at him in confusion and he shrugs, your weight not even slowing his shoulders in the movement. Your heart leaps.
“I mean,” Halsin explains, averting his eyes from yours tactfully, “that you will have to undress before you get in. Now, as you may have noticed, I enjoy nature in all of her forms, but I know not everyone is so… inclined.”
You swear you see a blush creep into his cheeks. His eyes flashing golden in the sunlight. Your heart flutters when you finally understand what he is trying to tell you.
“Oh!” you exclaim then, wiggling in his arms. This could not go better if you had planned it. You didn’t even think of this when you asked for a bath, but oh dear, did fate give you a good hand today. “I don’t mind if you stay, Halsin.”
“I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He sounds almost like he is trying to convince himself. “I made that pool of water quite deep so you could sit in it, though it is shallow enough the sun should have warmed it up a bit…”
“I would jump into the ice seas if only it meant a chance for a bath,” you chuckle. You tug at Halsin’s arm. “Put me down, please.”
He sets you down on the ground so gently as if you could break. You find your footing after a moment, holding on to his big arm until your head stops spinning, waving him off when he bends down to look at you with concerned eyes.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Promise.”
Halsin stares at you, but he doesn’t drag you back to the cave, so you take that as a sign of faith. You take a deep breath and start peeling out of the few layers of fabric you have on you. Reaching for your bandages, you hesitate.
“Should I leave those on?” you ask. Halsin’s eyes snap up to yours, and you nearly giggle at the look on his face. He has the expression of a bear caught with his paw in the honeypot.
“Oh… no,” he answers finally. “You can take those off, I’ll put fresh ones on after your bath.”
“Mhhm. You take such good care of me.”
You start peeling the bandages from your maltreated body, dedicating all your energy to staying upright. Halsin’s eyes never leave you, roaming up and down your naked body, but you are far too focused on the task at hand to notice.
This is the longest you have been on your legs in weeks, and your thighs are already starting to burn. Quickly, you finish unwrapping yourself. Before you can figure out a plan of how to best get into the water, strong hands slip beneath your arms and lift you up.
You squeal with joy as Halsin slowly lowers you down into the water.
It’s warmer than you expect, yet still cold as all hells. Goosebumps rise on your body and you shiver. Halsin stops moving, you, halfway submerged, hanging limp in his arms.
“Are you alright?”
Your teeth are not exactly chattering, but it takes some effort to keep it that way.
“‘M fine,” you say. “It’s just… a b-bit cold. But I’m okay. You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d take the ice seas earlier.”
Laughter rumbles from Halsin’s chest like thunder. It makes you smile. He laughs so much more now than he used to.
“Fine. I’ll- just give me a moment.”
You are gently placed down in the pool, cold water up to your neck. Halsin makes a dissatisfied sound.
“Seems I overestimated your size, little flower.”
“Not hard to do when you’re this big,” you mumble, turning around to look up at him, gesturing at his silhouette that stands out against the sun- and stop. 
Your jaw nearly hangs open when you are faced with a nearly naked Halsin. You blink and shake your head, ready to believe that the cold may be causing hallucinations. Maybe you never woke up from your sickbed - maybe this is a dream. Maybe you died on the battlefield and this is Celestia.
Halsin sheds the last layers of clothing covering himself, and it’s all you can do not to say fuck me quite loudly. You bite your lip, but before you can even process the situation, Halsin has slipped into the self-made pool with you.
The water seems to heat up the second he is in there with you, his body so close to yours you could barely fit a leaf between the two of you. His eyes are bright gold in the sunshine, and he takes a deep breath, his chest expanding.
You stare and stare and hope you are not being all too obvious about it. Carefully, you take a step back only to slip on the muddy ground.
Halsin catches you easily, your body pressed against his, and you think that the water might start to boil any second now.
“Thanks,” you murmur, straightening up. His hand lets go of you as he takes a step back himself - the furthest he can go, even though there is stll barely space between you.
“Are you warm enough now?” he rumbles, sounding amused. There is a note of something else in his voice - a strain; not impatience, but something close to it. You press your hands to your sides awkwardly.
“Yeah… yeah, this is better. Thank-”
“No need to thank me.” Halsin interrupts you, abruptly turning around, away from you. The water that is up to your neck barely reaches halfway up his back. “I shall stay here so you don’t get sick on top of all your other injuries. Take all the time you need.”
You wish the water wasn’t so clear that you can see every detail of his backside. You wish his hair was not so soft, shining in the sun. You wish you could not see the muscles of his back ripple when he shifts, and that his shoulders would not look so perfectly round and juicy it makes your mouth water. You wish it was not so hard to avert your eyes.
A golden glitter in the water catches your eye. It travels up Halsin’s calf, his thigh. He shakes his head like he is swatting away flies, and the spark in the water fades.
What the hells was that?
You frown; but the water is winning you over. Your legs already hurt from standing, though the water makes the weight more bearable, and as much as you wish to stay here forever, tucked closely into your little corner of the world, feeling Halsin’s body next to yours, you have to admit you are feeling a little tired.
So, you get to work, scrubbing yourself down, dunking your head into the water and trying to extrapolate the filth from your hair. You are fairly certain Halsin must have at least wiped you down with a washcloth after rescuing you, since your body is not still covered entirely in guts and blood and dirt, but you have not had a proper bath in so long.
You sigh quietly as you wash your hair, your shoulders, your thighs, scrubbing and scrubbing until you feel raw in the best way. One of your arms hangs uselessly by your side, the bone on the mend but not healed, and soon, your other arm burns with exhaustion.
Halsin has not turned around to face you, though from his relaxed stance you are guessing he is probably basking in the sun with his eyes closed. You try and push through the pain and exhaustion, but eventually, you have to admit defeat.
“Halsin?” You tap his shoulder blade. A flash of light appears in the water, gone as soon as it came. His neck turns slightly.
“Yes?”
“Can you… help me?” you ask shyly. Finally, he turns around, his expression soft and controlled.
“What do you need help with, my angel?”
You shiver at the gravel in his voice, at the way he looks at you - with eyes burning, though you don’t dare to hope it may be desire. Maybe he is just getting impatient.
“I can’t reach,” you explain and point to your back. “Not with this arm, and-”
Large hands roam across your body, careful to avoid all the sore spots and healing wounds.
“Of course,” he grumbles. “Turn around.”
You blink up at him, then carefully spin around - you have learned your lesson from last time - holding onto the edge of the pool.
Halsin’s fingers are rough, but not in an uncomfortable way. His palms are soft when he slowly rubs small circles into your back, washing away dirt and grime, showering you in his attention and his care. You catch the golden sparkle in the water again, but when you twist to see, it is already gone again. It must be the sun.
You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling of Halsin so close to you.
Something tightens in your belly at the way he touches you - the gentleness his large hands are capable of more than you can handle. The way his hands could so easily wrap around your waist makes your heart stumble.
Halsin’s hands glide up your back easily, up to your hairline, roaming across your shoulder blades, and back down, stopping just shy of the small of your back. A quiet moan escapes from your throat at the touch, and you stiffen. Halsin carries on as if nothing has happened.
Fine. If he can ignore it, then so can you.
You are fairly certain that you are clean at this point, but Halsin is not stopping on his own, and who would you be to tell him to stop? You close your eyes and relax into his touch, into the soft pads of his fingers that dig into your shoulders in just the right way, the warmth of his body that you can feel even through the water.
“Good,” he mumbles eventually, his hands vanishing from your back.. “I know you must be tired. Are you satisfied?”
With you? Never, you want to say. What comes out instead is a vague,
“Mmhhm.”
Halsin chuckles quietly.
“Oh, you are exhausted, my love. Come on, I will take you to bed.”
Your eyes are falling shut when he heaves himself out of the water, and you can’t even open your mouth to make a silly joke about being taken to bed by him. You could slap yourself for not being able to keep your eyes open - oh, to see him one more time, to take him in in all his glory in the fading light of the day. 
Halsin lifts you out of the water easily. A shiver runs through him that makes you crack your eyes open. His irises glow golden in the sinking sun, and you smile at the sight. He smiles back at you, wrapping you in cloth, and carries you back to your cave, and back to your bed.
You are half-asleep when your head hits the pillow, so you can’t even blame yourself when your voice asks sleepily:
“Will you stay here with me tonight?”
Halsin gently pulls his hand from your grasp.
“Not tonight, my angel,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek so softly you wonder if you imagined it. “But I’ll be right outside should you need me.”
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Hello my darlings! I have been consumed whole by BG3 and the big bear man, so I hope you enjoy! (Lmk if you want to not be tagged in this little series, I'm just going to tag my usuals)
@cyarbika @deewithani @ficsbynight @kote-wan @ariadnes-red-thread @rescuethewretched @twistedstitcher27 @kakashibabe02 @writingbylee @purgetrooperfox @basilbumble @witchklng @lackofhonor @ashotofspotchka @sailor-blossom @misogirl828 @amyroswell @darkjedipoptarts @pinkiemme @sleepingsun501 @fett-djarin @samanthacookieone @tortor-mcgee @corrabell @queen--kenobi @elegantduckturtle @felinaone @palpipeen @wild-karrde @obeydontstray @obeydontstray @nomercyforthewarrior @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @thefact0rygirl @everythingyouwanted @equalityforcats @cagrame @ladykatakuri @snakerune @shadesofshatteredblue @100lxtters @damerondala @tachyon-girl @rintheemolion @pickleprickle @mando-amando @certified-anakinfucker @baba-fett @ulchabhangorm
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diggykit-kat · 2 months
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𝑫𝒐𝒈𝑫𝒂𝒚 x Reader PT. 1
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You didn’t know why you even decided to go into the factory. You can’t even remember your motive for going on, but there was none of it left so why did it even matter?
DogDay. After finding you while you were exploring, he felt this deep down in his heart... This feeling had been longing to come back. For the last bit of humanity left in him, he kept you... he made sure you scavenged around for anything that could keep you healthy and alive, food, water, blankets, etc. Despite your whining and fighting, he didn't let you go deeper into the factory, and he kept you in a nest-like room in the orphanage... "Angel...Angel? Are you awake? Are you Hungry?”
You groan, digging your head into the pillow…you were practically kidnapped by this 8-foot humanoid dog, as much as you wished to escape and go back home it wasn't an option anymore, he'd always catch you… “D.D. I was sleeping” you whined
DogDay chuckled, a scratchy sound not matching his appearance. "Oh, my Little Angel...I knew you were sleeping but it's time to eat...please, for me." DogDay sounded exhausted with his role as protector. His tone never wavered from a soft, caring one. "You know that I need you to eat well...right?"
You sighed, looking at him for a few moments, how did you even get into this situation of being forcefully taken care of by some humanoid hellhound… “Yeah. yeah. Right. Just give it to me” you murmured, you almost felt pity if it wasn’t for the fact every time you tried escaping he’d hunt you down like a serial killer in a horror movie.
DogDay snapped his paws in the air, a sudden burst of joy hitting him. "Oh, I can't wait until you eat. I need to know what you think about what I got you." DogDay bounced as he spoke, his movements a stark contrast to his rough voice. "C'mon, Child, get up I got something really extraordinary."
You tense up, the last time he said ‘something special’ he had found a literal animal corpse...and not just any. But a raccoon corpse…wonder what gore you’ll see today, “Oh and what may that be…” you muttered, following in his steps.
"Oh, it's..." DogDay made a show of tapping his chin and pretending to think, then with a snap of his fingers and a loud "Ah-ha!" he said, "It's...a surprise!" DogDay bounced on his hind legs, a rare display of genuine joy that nearly sent him toppling over. "Come on, let's go! It's a real winner!" DogDay's demeanor was infectious,
There was no happy “yeah…” in it, just a sarcastic worried one... Although DogDay was oblivious, you followed him through the orphanage and he made sure to keep a close eye on you at all times.
"Now we're there." The monster said as he turned down a dark hallway behind the orphanage. The place was dark. Very dark. It smelled like mold and mildew and something else...blood. He led you to a room with an iron door. He swung it open. You stepped into the room. The light was murky, but you could make out a pile of...meat on an iron table in the corner. It was a mix of red and white. It was...not a raccoon, that's for sure...
“Th-that uhh…Hey D.Day…what is that?” Your voice became unstable and disturbed
DogDay sneered. "Why that's just your lunch. I know you were always looking a bit hungry, little Angel, so I figured you'd like a nice snack. It's...um...fresh."
“What kind of fresh meat.” You turn and perk up at him
The anomaly gave you another twisted grin. "It's a surprise...I got this, especially for you. It won't bite ya, I promise. Come on...take a bite. I bet you'll like it. Just trust me. Trust your guardian."
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My bot based off this:
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lemmetreatya · 10 months
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Oh what about Miguel getting sick and the reader taking care of him?
AHHHHH!! i know he hates being looked after too 😩😩 so stubborn
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“i don’t want you looking after me.” 
as soon as miguel says those words, a hefty sneeze leaves him. you can only tut, ignoring his nonsensical request as you place his honey, lemon and ginger tea on the coaster. 
“i dont care about what you want. right now, you need medical attention.” you say with concern. 
“medical attention is such a harsh phrase.” 
at this rate, miguel is borderline pouting as he turns his head away from you and into the back of the couch. 
“well, what else d’you suppose i use?” 
miguel starts to lightly groan towards the back of his throat. it sounds like a deep, scratchy alternative to purring and so you can definitely tell he feels unwell. 
“cuidado suena vago. me gusta…el cuidado. usa cuidado.” [1]
you have to concentrate to work out what hes muttering about. its only after several seconds where you work out that he was speaking in spanish. 
“cuidado…” you repeat to yourself. “nursing? care? so you want me to use care instead?”
miguel groans again but this time he’s cosying into the back of the couch. for someone who was so adamant they didn’t need looking after, he was definitely displaying actions of wanting someone to pay attention to him. 
“mhm. care.” he mutters. 
with a sigh, you lean over to the other side of the couch to retrieve a blanket before wrapping it over him. 
“fine. ill give you care, yeah?”
as you tuck the blanket under either side of him, you mumble softly to yourself 
“gosh, you’re such a big baby.”
you know in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have let you get away with saying that about him but surprisingly, miguel entertains you. 
“if im such a baby then you’re gonna have to reaaaallly take care of me.” he mumbles. 
surprised by his response, you slightly pause. once again it takes you a few seconds to acknowledge what he’s saying but once you do, you’re laughing aloud. 
“yeah. yeah, i really am, aren’t i?” you muse before softly soothing your hand over his head. 
———————————-
[1]: care sounds vague. i like care. use care
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the-kr8tor · 9 months
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The Morning after
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Synopsis: you spend a peaceful morning with Hobie.
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to be smaller than Hobie though) TW food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF , lovestruck Hobie.
A continuation of this fic.
My Masterlist
*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*
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Hobie wakes up with his right arm aching, he groans from the weight slightly crushing his arm– wait what?
He opens his half asleep eyes with a confused look. Hobie cranes his neck down, he finally sees who the intruder is.
Hobie smiles to himself, Fully waking up, he remembers that he invited you over. He stares at your form, memorizing every bit of detail from how you clutched his jumper with a grip, your lips slightly parted as you exhale, the early morning sun shines at your back, bathing your form in a heavenly glow. Hobie moves you closer to him, as to not let the rays hit your face and disturb your peace.
He tries to move you both farther away from the edge of the bed, but he finds that your legs are intertwined with his, preventing him from moving.
He huffs, a lopsided smile on his lips. Hobie ghosts his thumb over your cheeks, the pattern from the knitted blanket leaves a mark on your skin. A sign that you've slept well, and in his arms no doubt. His forgotten comforter kicked to the foot of the bed.
He gets a whiff of your coconut shampoo, surely leaving its scent on his pillow.
He thinks about buying a proper toothbrush holder, so he could place his and yours together.
He really should invite you more.
Hobie's spidey senses wake him up from his daze– he clutches you closer to his body, carefully cradling your head. A wave from a moving boat rushes towards the houseboat, rocking it harshly. His busted alarm clock drops to the floor in a crash.
Hobie hisses as he sees you twitch. He curses whoever was in that boat.
"Ughh" you groan out, muffled against Hobie's chest. You grip his jumper tighter.
"Shit" his voice deeper than usual, you release his jumper and instead hug his torso. The waves get calmer, rocking you both softly.
"You alright?" He rubs your back just in case you feel sick.
You pop your head away from Hobie's chest, chin resting on his scratchy jumper, you tickle him a bit, but he won't tell you that of course. You open one eye to stare at him, yawning.
"Say that again?" You ask with a tilt of your head.
"Are you alright?" He hides his laugh by clearing his throat.
"Hmm" you grin "I like your morning voice"
He chuckles deeply, knowing what it does to you.
"Oh, you did that on purpose, you dork" you softly say.
"Yeah, bet it got you all hot and bothered for it too, huh" Hobie pokes your sides teasingly.
"Don't start" you swat away his hand, noticing his teasing mood this morning, you anticipate his tickling.
"You look pretty in the morning, you didn't wake up early and clean yourself up secretly, right?" He knows you didn't, sleep still sticking on your eyes, your hair looking disheveled.
"Nope, it's au naturel" you quip back. It earns a deep chuckle from Hobie.
He carefully rubs off the gunk from the corner of your eye, you sigh into his touch.
"You like my morning breath too?" He tries to blow air downwards but you're ready, you clasp your hand over his mouth, stopping his teasing.
You laugh victorious, that is until he licks your hand, recoiling your hand away, he laughs loudly.
"Hobie! That's it, I'm not making you breakfast"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop. For now" he grabs the back of your head pushing you back to his chest.
You move to the crooked of his neck instead, in case you're crushing him. You slyly wipe his drool from your hand on his jumper.
"I saw that" Hobie peeks downward.
"No, you didn't"
"This is vintage y'know"
"It's your own drool!" You laugh.
"Yeah! And you slobbered all over it while you used me as your personal pillow" he rubs the exposed skin on your waist, cupping the softness fondly.
"I don't slobber!" You grab his jaw downwards so you could look eye to eye.
"Tell that to my soaked jumper" he whispers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Your heart skips a beat.
Knowing what he's gonna do next, you cover his lips over your hand, "let me brush my teeth first"
You push away from Hobie, your torso barely off the bed, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down. You gasp out.
"Nope" in one swift movement Hobie cups your cheek guiding you towards his lips, your lips crash against each other, you cringe when your forehead hits his a bit too loudly. Insecurity fills you when you remember that you still have morning breath.
He doesn't care though, instead he pokes your sides, making you gasp parting your lips, making him kiss you deeper.
You pull away breathlessly when you hear a rumbling noise underneath you.
"Ah, fuck" Hobie facepalms in embarrassment.
Hobie's stomach grumbles again, mocking him.
You grab his hand, peeking in "aww, my poor baby is hungry" you mockingly coo. "I'll make you breakfast, sunny side up right?" You push off him, finally noticing you're on the wrong side of the bed.
"Yes, please, love" he exhales out the embarrassment.
"How'd I end up on this side?" You point out.
"Huh, I probably dragged you with me"
You imagine what it might've looked like, you fluster. Even asleep he wants you near, you look at him adoringly, swiping away the sheen on his lips before leaving a kiss for good measure.
You leave for the bathroom, he stares at the door you entered in, a lovestruck expression on his face. Once he knows you're decent, he flips away the covers, following towards the sound of the faucet squeak open.
Hobie knocks, you hum while brushing your teeth. He opens the door, then leans against it, his arms relaxed on his sides, his sweatpants hang low on his hips.
He admires you bathe in white fluorescent light, his shirt on your form hanging loose on you. You looked out of place but at the same time fitting right in his tiny bathroom.
He thought you looked like you came out of an oil painting.
"You need to use the bathroom?" You ask as you place your toothbrush down.
"You should leave it"
"Leave what?"
"Your toothbrush, for next time" Hobie crosses his arms, a sudden shyness floods him.
"Of course" you smile, already getting what he's trying to say, "I was already planning on leaving it" you come forward, leaving a minty kiss on his cheek. "Your turn stinky" you pat his bum with a smack.
Hobie hears your laughter echo around the houseboat.
-
After washing up, Hobie opens the bathroom door, the smell of eggs and his favourite tea covers his senses. He chuckles to himself.
He could get used to this.
Hobie enters his modest kitchen, you hum along to the music from the radio, the inside of his houseboat looks a bit different than before, there's more light shining inside, fresh air wafts through the open windows, it seems that there's more life in his home.
He moves towards you, hugging you from behind. You giggle at the contact. He looks over your shoulder, he watches as you expertly flip the pancake over.
"Hello to you too" you crane your neck to look at him "I opened the windows, it's too nice outside. Hope you don't mind"
"I don't mind, we need the fresh air" he snuggles deeper on the crook of your neck. "Where'd you get pancake mix? I know that I don't have any"
"Ah, I brought it with me" you side glance at him, gauging his reaction.
"So, you were planning on making breakfast for me, hmm?"
"I did bring it, but it doesn't mean I was planning on cooking it myself" you turn off the stove, he turns you around, crowding you in between him and the stove.
"So you're making me breakfast out of the goodness of heart then?" He holds onto your hips.
"Yes, you're making the next one by the way"
"You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" He leans towards you, his lips ghosting over yours, but before sealing the deal, he grabs his mug behind you. He sips from it loudly, making eye contact over the mug.
You roll your eyes, trying to hide your disappointment. "You're a menace" you give him a plate of eggs, sunny side up just like how he requested it. "Make yourself useful, and set the table"
Hobie sees his kitchen counter slash dining table, that's not gonna cut it out for you. He looks out of the window, the rare sun shining over the river, fluffy white clouds blanket the sky.
It's a beautiful morning, a shame to waste it.
He pushes the door open, leading to his 'porch'
"Where are you going?" You ask curiously.
"You'll see" Hobie peeks back inside, a smirk on his face.
You shake your head at his shenanigans, you wonder what he's planning.
The water looks calm, the cold morning air nips at his skin, his jumper barely protecting him from the cold. Hobie sees the metal table wet with morning dew, that won't do, so he grabs a nearby cloth to wipe it dry, he carefully puts down the plate of eggs and his tea, to wipe at the mismatched chairs.
Hobie wipes the wooden chair more thoroughly, since the metal one looks more worn down, he's concerned you might poke yourself on it.
He looks at his handiwork, there seems to be something missing, Hobie roams his eyes around the boat, his eyes stop at an empty beer bottle, he places it in the middle of the table acting as a centerpiece.
Then he perches himself near the edge of his boat to pick a single daisy from a neighbouring houseboat's flower pot; he's sure they wouldn't notice one missing. Hobie gingerly puts the small flower inside the bottle.
You open the door with your foot a little too loudly, you squint at the harsh sound. Hobie quickly moves to help you carry out the plates and mug.
"Thanks, Hobie," you grin, your smile gets wider when you see his little set up. The little daisy swaying in the air. "Oh, handsome" you gasp out.
You're finished, your eyes slightly glazing over.
Hobie chuckles at his new nickname, he moves the wooden chair for you to sit, hands on its back, like a gentleman.
" C'mon then, stop gawking, I'm starving" he stares at your dumbstruck face, the cold air leaving goosebumps on your arms.
You sit down, smiling, forgetting the cold air.
"Do you want me to grab a jacket?" He asks as he rubs your arms from behind.
You grab his wrist, you bracelet around it with your fingers, "no, stay, I'm okay" you sniff, revealing your lie.
"Nah, I'm not letting you freeze to death, let me grab it real quick, alright?" Hobie runs inside, eager to come back to you.
Oh, he's absolutely whipped for you, no doubt about it.
You revel in the sun shining on you, closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. Hobie sees you like this, his breath hitches in his throat. You must look heavenly, a slight breeze makes your eyelashes flutter. Opening your eyes, you notice eyes on you, you smile at him.
He's done for.
Waking up from his stupor, he wraps the dark hoodie on your head. A feeble attempt to hide the effect you have on him
"And here I thought you were being sweet on me" you tease him, knowing that he actually is soft for you.
"I've got a reputation, y'know" he sits down with a metal creak.
Hobie notices that you're sitting a little bit too far for his taste. "What are you doing there? C'mere" he grabs your chair, pulling it towards him, the wooden legs scraping against the metal of the boat.
You laugh, despite the harsh sound coming from the scraping.
"There, much better?" He leans on the arms of his chair.
You nod, a permanent smile on your face "much better" you kiss his cheek, your cold lips a contrast to his warm skin, it melts into his skin, etching in like a tattoo.
You intertwine your arm around his, speaking softly, as to not disturb your little peaceful bubble around the both of you, " y'know I thought you would be grumpier in the morning"
"Why's that?" He leans closer.
"I don't know, you seem like the type" you whisper against his lips, "you're a night owl, so I thought you would hate waking up this early"
"Only if I don't sleep well" heat rises in your cheeks at his implication, "Lucky for me I've got my very own koala latching on to me last night"
You raise your eyebrow "Really a koala, that's the best you can do, Hobart?"
"You always resort to calling me by my government name whenever you're flustered, koala works, lovey" he cups your jaw, his thumb brushes past your lips. You close your eyes, leaning in.
Before your lips could meet, you hear a gurgling sound.
You pull away, laughing loudly. Hobie lets out a small goddamnit.
"We should eat, before your stomach starts eating you from the inside" you say in between laughs.
"Yeah, yeah" he grumpily grabs his spoon.
You hide your smile behind your mug.
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A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it, as always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️
*image above is from pinterest*
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hischierswhore · 9 months
Text
clingy
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pairing: Lando Norris x gf!Reader
tw: none
a/n: me? writing fluff for once? well it's semi fluff. kinda like a comfort fic?? maybe? i don't really know tbh
You and Lando enjoyed hanging out with friends. Whether it was his friends or yours, you both had a great time regardless. There were also times when you would hang out with your friends alone and he would hang out with his friends alone, which of course you had no problem with. You’ve been together for 8 months now, so you had plenty of security in your relationship.
Lando currently had a few of the other drivers over at his house. All the drivers were on holiday so you were able to spend some time with Lando before he had to go back to his hectic race schedule. Unbeknownst to everyone except your boyfriend, you were upstairs watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” on your TV.
Midway through the first two episodes, you got hungry so you went downstairs to get a snack. Just as you approached the bottom, you heard someone mention your name.
 “Is anyone elses girlfriend super clingy?” Charles asked
“Kika and I just spend a lot of time together” Pierre added
“Y/n is sometimes clingy. It can be a bit overwhelming at times” Lando answered. You heard your name and frowned as you took in his words. You were overwhelmingly clingy? You barely ever saw him.
Hearing that, you turned around and made your way back up the stairs, your appetite suddenly gone as you rushed to pack your bag and leave.
“Oh shut up, mate. Y/n is not clingy from what I’ve seen. Usually it’s you jumping on her for comfort, not the other way around. You’re absolutely whipped” George threw a bouncy ball at Lando’s head.
“Yeah I know, I’m only joking. She’s just so perfect. I love her” Lando blushed as he grabbed the bouncy ball and threw it back at George.
Just then you quietly made your way down the stairs and brushed past the group of guys without a single word as you crossed through the living room to get to the front door.
“Where are you going, love?” Lando stood up from his seat and walked towards you, grabbing your wrist to halt your movements. You turned around to face him.
“I uhm- forgot I have to go walk my sister’s turtle. Bye” You said the first lie you could come up with as you pulled your wrist out of his hold and turned around. You opened the front door and shut it behind you, praying that Lando wouldn’t follow.
Lando turned around and went back to his spot on the couch.
“Is that a thing people do here? Walking turtles?” Pierre asked, confusion written all over his face as he looked around the group for an answer.
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Ever since that night, you hadn’t been over to Lando’s house. He would call and text you to make plans, but you would come up with excuses to not be able to go. You didn’t want to seem any clingier than you supposedly were, according to Lando’s words.
After nearly a week of avoiding Lando, he’d had enough of it. You were in the process of making yourself some pancakes when your doorbell rang. You turned the stove off as your grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, since you were lounging around in a sports bra and shorts. You couldn’t see anything through the little peep hole so you opened the door, shocked to see Lando standing there with flowers in hand.
The smile that was once on Lando’s face turned into a frown when he saw the blanket wrapped around your body.
“Oh baby, are you feeling ill?” He was genuinely concerned. He thought you had the blanket around you because you were sick, and you still weren’t fully up to seeing him, so you joined in on his misconception.
“Yeah, I’ve got a massive cold. I don’t want to get you sick too” You made your voice sound as scratchy as possible before pretending to cough.
“I don’t care if I get sick. Let me take care of you” He said as he pushed himself into your flat. He grabbed one of your arms and dragged you to the couch, where he grabbed both of your shoulders and pushed you into a sitting position. He ran across your flat to your bathroom to get the thermometer so he could check your temperature. You knew you’d be screwed if he actually checked.
He came back moments later, the little green thermometer in hand as he took the clear cover off.
“So uhm… I don’t exactly know how to work this” Lando held the tool in his hand, trying to figure out how to use it.
“No worries. I’m just not feeling great” You fake coughed again. Lando placed the thermometer on the coffee table in front of the couch and placed his hand on your forehead. All you could think was ‘shit’.
“You feel normal. What’s going on, love?” He asked as he slowly sat down next to you.
“What do you mean?” Your voice was back to normal, yet it was quieter than it usually was.
 “You’re being all distant and shutting me out. We haven’t seen each other much. I just…did I do something?” He asked, the hurt in his voice evident as he spoke.
“I’m giving you a break” You answered and he just stared at you.
“Wh—what? A break?” He asked.
 “ Yeah, a break. I heard what you and the other drivers were saying the other night, Lando. I didn’t-” you took a moment to breathe.
 “I didn’t know that I was somehow clingy and that it bothered you” Your voice cracked as a tear streamed down your face.
He wrapped you in his arms and held you as you cried into his shirt.
“Oh my god. Let me explain everything, okay love?” He said as he slowly let go of you.
 “I did say that but what you probably didn’t hear is that I said it was a joke. You wanna know what I told them?” He said and you nodded your head.
 “I told them that I love you and that you’re perfect, because I truly do love you. You’re my girl forever. And if anyone’s clingy in this relationship, it’s quite obvious that it’s me” He joked, hoping to get a smile out of you. You laughed at his words, which resulted in a smile erupting on both your face and his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before engulfing you in a hug.
“I love you. I can’t stand seeing you so upset like this. Plus the house was so lonely without you. Let’s go home?” He asked.
Home.
You always thought home was a physical place, a location. It turns out you’d found you home eight months ago.
“Home is wherever you are” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder.
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BONUS
“By the way, you’ve made Pierre question whether or not walking a turtle is a real thing”
“If Pierre was confused, I know for a fact that Charles was just as confused. Plus I’ve seen people do it on TikTok, so I guess it’s a real thing”
“I also feel like they would be the type of people to actually walk around Monaco with a turtle on a leash”
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side note: rip to the pancake Y/n was making before Lando showed up
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taglist
@firehazardxx @judesgfirl @celestialams @xjval @chelseagirl98
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Roommate!Simon comes down with a cold. It’s nothing serious, in fact he’s had worse wounds in the battlefield and yet he feels absolutely like shit.
When Simon is sick, he’s deathly quiet. The most you’ll get from him is a grunt or maybe a few words here and there but he just wants to miserably lay in bed and sleep the sickness away.
He’s passed out when you enter his room, snoring pretty bad since he’s congestion and most of his clothes are tossed on the floor due to his fever.
You feel bad for waking him up, but he hasn’t eaten anything today or drank any water, so you’re worried.
“Simon.” You very gently shake him awake but he doesn’t stir. “Love.”
Usually he would’ve jumped awake but instead he blinked his eyes open and took a moment for the confusion to wear off before he looked at you with a grunt.
“How about you lay down on the couch for a little bit so you can get fresh air?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I can clean your sheets.”
“You don’t have to.” His voice is scratchy and stuffy, but you’re not at all bothered by his stubbornness.
“But I want to take care of you.”
You’re not sure if it’s because he’s too sick to fight back or if it’s because he likes the idea of being taken care of, but you somehow manage to get him out of bed.
You help him the couch where you’ve set up a spot for him to lay and wrapped him up in blankets when he starts to shiver.
“I’ll be back with some tea and medicine.” You promise and he just nods, his dark eyes never leaving you.
Before long the sheets are in the wash and he’s got medicine in his system, but he’s still staring in daze especially as you sit next to him. His hair is a tangled mess but it’s endearing especially as you run your hand through his locks and he leans into your touch.
“I’ll get you sick.” He warns but you just press a kiss to his temple.
“I think I’ll be okay.” You give him a smile and he sighs heavily. “Now get some rest, I’ll wake you up in a few so you can eat something.”
He groans as you gently push him down on the couch but you go to leave he grabs your hand and runs his fingers across your knuckles.
“Thank you.” His voice is soft and he stares at you as if you’ve hung the stars.
“Get some rest.” You placed another kiss on his forehead and he gives you a small smile before his eyes flutter shut.
“I’m a lucky bloke.”
"Sleep."
"Fine."
a/n: a little cute something i wrote when i was sick lol
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