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#and the lovely shiny hair of course too
seravphs · 11 months
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER
Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru
wc — 600
tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance 
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Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower. 
If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along. 
“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room. 
He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point. 
Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees. 
“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs. 
“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.” 
“I deserve it.” 
“Gojo.” 
You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much. 
He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course. 
He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve. 
He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time. 
“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“ 
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow. 
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down. 
“Go get the hairdryer.” 
Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it. 
“Are you still mad?” 
“Want to take a guess?” 
He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand. 
“I’ll never do it again, I swear.” 
“You swear?” You’re teasing. 
Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.” 
“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?” 
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. 
“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly. 
You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying. 
But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention. 
“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?” 
“And go through this again? You kidding?” 
You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away. 
“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.” 
He knows you too well for you to disagree. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 days
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drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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Simple Math / Part Ten
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 5.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Masturbation, dirty (self) talk, brief daddy kink. This fic contains mature themes. Domestic violence. Grooming. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Nurse!reader. Kissing. Lots of dialogue. Bun considers making a friend. Penny is cute. Flirting. Touching. Comfort. Bun refers to herself as "heavy". Simon is Simon. POV switch. Dinner date.
“I’m Philip.”
The handsome brunette smiles, grabbing onto your hand. You blink, trying to understand, trying to make it make sense, when he prompts you with a teasing grin. “This is the part where you tell me your name, sweet thing.” 
Oh. You stumble over it, tongue tied into a million knots, sweat from the Texas sun beating down your back, sweat slicking your shirt to your skin. 
He’s still holding your hand, and you’re standing there with wide, doe eyes, shell shocked. 
He’s… so handsome. And older. Older, and handsome. Polished type, with good teeth and good hair. He looks like he just stepped off the golf course. 
Why is he talking to you? 
He glances down at your drink. 
“You even old enough to be drinkin’ that?” 
“I-“ You’re terrible at lying, and like he can read it on your face, he chuckles. 
“You live around here?” 
“I go to Rice.” 
“A bit young for college, aren’t you?” 
“I just turned eighteen!” You’ve heard it a million times. You’re too young to understand something, or know something, or do something. You don’t get the way the world works yet. You’re not an adult. 
He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I bet you’re one of the really smart girls that make all us men look like Neanderthals.” Your face heats. 
“N-no. I just… I graduated early. I’m not a know it all.” You defend yourself, desperate to create distance from the usual stereotype, the way most people see you. The way boys see you. 
Too smart. Face buried in a book. Awkward and stiff. Uncool. 
He traces you from head to toe, appreciative gaze grazing over the swell of your hips, the generous curve of your ass. “I didn’t think you were. Too mature for that, I bet.” He croons, and your knees go weak. 
“Y-yeah. A lot of people say I’m really mature.” 
Two things compete for your attention when you open your eyes.
One: there is a soft, lovely song playing downstairs, something spring-like and sweet, vibrant without being too loud.
Two: the house smells like pancakes.
You check your phone, shocked to see you’ve slept for yet another 12 hours. There’s a text from Nia, and a text from your boss.
>You have a lot of time accrued. Take as much as you need. 
That settles that, you guess.
There are also text messages in the group chat, one from Simon, and one from Johnny, coming in only a few minutes ago.
Simon: >Penny gets pancakes on Saturday mornings. They’ll be plenty, come down and eat when you’re ready. 
Johnny: >I’m missing all the good stuff. 
You stretch, cautiously, wiggling fingers and toes, spreading your limbs as far as you can without pushing it too much. You’re sore, uncomfortably so, and still exhausted, but if you stay in bed any longer, you’ll rot.
In the kitchen, Simon holds Penny and a mixing bowl, alternating hands to get a whisk through the batter while humming to his daughter on her hip.
You stop dead in your tracks.
He’s… he’s not wearing the mask. 
You stare at his face, his whole, naked face for the first time, taking in the broad jaw, every shiny white scar, and his (twice, if you had to guess) healed broken nose. He’s handsome, differently from Johnny but no less striking, and you can’t look away, stunned by his raw, depthless and rugged beauty. Penny’s leg has kicked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his midsection, and the flash of skin there feels like a scandal, something you shouldn’t be seeing but cannot get enough of. He looks nothing like you expected and yet… everything you hoped for.
“Morning.” Pen tucks her face into his chest shyly, peeking out from the corner of her eye, curious and cute. “Can you say good morning to bunny?” He bounces her a little, and she giggles.
"Bunny." She says quietly, and Simon laughs.
“That’s right. Good job.” After a second of silence, you try to ask him about the missing mask, but the question gets confused on your tongue, and what comes out instead is clumsy and stunted.
“Your mask.” You cringe, immediately. It’s the first thing that slips loose, insensitive, and uncouth. “I uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… surprised?” you falter, and makes it worse. You think about trying to run back upstairs, hightailing it for the hills when he smiles, and points to the empty stool at the kitchen counter with a batter covered whisk.
“Sit.” There’s already a stack piled high, plain, and ones with big, juicy blueberries. Your favorite. 
“So, pancakes every Saturday?”
“Mhmm.” He settles Penny in her highchair to your left, and pulls an already cooled pancake from the stack, cutting it up into little, tiny pieces with a child’s knife and fork. “Pen and her Da,” he pads some butter across the top of his handiwork, grabbing her sippy cup and filling it with milk. “Have pancakes every Saturday when he’s home. It’s their favorite. Right?” He points at her, “your favorite?” and taps his middle finger to his chin, others outward, straight up. “Your favorite?” Signing?
“Are you teaching her sign?”
“Trying to. Pen’s birth mum is deaf. It’s important to us, that she’s able to connect with her when the time comes. Plus, my hearing is shot. So is Johnny’s. It’s a great way for her to communicate with us.” He strokes some fingers through her curls, and she doesn’t even look up, too busy shoveling as much pancake into her mouth as she can. You have a million questions now, curiosities bubbling to the surface, about Pen’s mum, about her life, about how she came to be their child. All too rude, and too invasive to ask. “Or, to use when she’s feeling sassy and can’t find the words. That happens, too.”
“She’s what…sixteen months?” You watch her intently, unable to not smile when she cheeses at her dad with a mouthful of food, even though your tender skin stings with the movement.
“Yeah. Top percentiles in a lot of things for her age. Said her first word before she was one.” He’s rich with pride, a deep well of love shining in his eyes, and you force your own down to the plate, stifling the ache bleeding from your heart.
“Of course she is.” Penny holds pieces of sticky, syrupy pancake with both hands, attacking them with vigor, smearing her cheeks purple with the squished blueberries.
You need to eat something, but your brain is buzzing, unnatural discomfort stretching long in the back of your mind.
What’re you doing? Sitting here eating pancakes like everything is normal? Like everything’s okay? 
Everything is not okay. 
You drift, back to your apartment, back the venom of Phillip, the hands around your neck, the twist of your shoulder, back slamming into the wall. You can still feel him, still hear him, these memories like all the others, your body beaten on the floor, mind nearly broken. Trying to shift away from the hot end of a cigarette, screaming for help, running through a-
A hand covers yours.
He coaxes the fork from your fingers, metal vibrating within flesh.
“I think… I think I should go back to bed.” You whisper.
“Are you tired?”
“No… yeah. I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to run away, you know.” He flips a pancake onto your plate from the stack. “Just because you were somewhere else for a little bit.” Your cheeks burn. “We’ve got a pretty nice couch in the living room though, if you want some time alone and don’t feel too keen on the stairs.” Saturday morning pancakes and curling up on the couch? It sounds so nice, so normal, and must show on your face, because he chuckles. “Help yourself. You might have to share the TV though, in a bit. We watch baby Einstein on Saturdays, and she’ll need some entertaining for a minute while I get ready.” Your lips twist, an entire hearth lighting up in the bottom of your heart.
“Alright.”
Baby Einstein is as enthralling as you thought it would be, though Penny disagrees. She stares at the screen, wide eyed, open mouthed, sippy cup long forgotten, and even Simon struggles to get her attention after returning from getting dressed.
You force your eyes away from the strain of his thighs in blue jeans.
“We’re goin’ down to the hospital.” He tells you, pulling her upward over the back of the couch and rubbing his nose through her curls. It’s still… weird, to see his whole face. To clearly watch his expressions, sublime bliss pushing his mouth upward whenever he looks at his daughter. “Want to come?”
“I can’t, not if I’m taking time off. It… looks bad to admin. I can probably go in at night but, during the day is just a recipe for disaster.”
“Of course.” He looks around, for what you don’t know, shoulders tensing, then relaxing. “Well, you’ve got the remote. And my number. Are you… going to be, okay? Alone?”
Say yes. 
You can’t. All you can do… is nod.
“Okay well if you’re not. Just call.” You nod again, getting to your feet. Once you’re standing, you’re out of place, flailing in their living room, about to be here alone, with your memories, your poisoned mind.
What’re you doing? You’ve ruined everything. Broken all your rules. 
“We can stay.” Simon steps close, hand grazing the middle of your back, and you shake your head.
“No, no- I… I’m sorry.”
“You don’t-“
“Yes, I do.” Your voice shakes, and you slam your eyes shut. You can’t do this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger, and I… I’m putting myself in danger and I’m being so- so stupid, Simon.” His gaze is heavy, serious, and he steps around you, sliding Penny into her bounce seat, turning it to face baby Einstein.
“Listen to me.”  As he returns, he reaches, carefully pulling you close, close enough you’re nearly in his chest, timing the rise and fall of his diaphragm. “We are safe, you are safe, sweetheart. ‘m not going to let anything happen to you, or Penny, or any of us. Alright?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Tell me.” You almost laugh, but something comes over you instead, something delirious and desperate. You lean into him, letting him hold you, hand smoothing over the back of your head. “You can tell me. You can trust us. We’ll take care of you.”
God, you want to. You want to so bad it aches, burns a ravenous fire in your heart. You want tell him, let them in. Tell them everything.
“Bun.” He murmurs, bringing you back, a finger under your chin.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… it’s too much.”
“It’s alright.” He soothes, but doesn’t pull away, and you’re drawn in like a magnet, rising to the balls of your feet, stuck in a trance, luring you closer.
He meets your halfway.
And then-
He’s kissing you, plush lips on yours, pancakes and fresh laundry and stained-glass windows of sanctuary on his tongue.
You’re standing in the sun, in the trance of another spell.
It’s a mouthful of butterscotch and maple. Sweet, delicious breakfast in bed, lazy Saturday mornings and whispered, tender words. It’s life unlike your own, a home, the promise of a love not fractioned, chipped away, or strangled… but multiplied, magnified. His touch is painfully gentle, slow and easy, encouraging you to follow his lead, carefully constructing a tiny universe to disappear to, where shadow cannot touch. A fantasy, cocoon of stars, ambrosial and sacrosanct, an escape from the hell nipping at your heels, the hell chasing you through your dreaming and waking hours. 
The anxious hum radiating through every cell in your body flatlines.
The girl in the mirror weeps.
Everything goes silent. Your breathing slows. Your hands fall to the side, listless and stunned.
Penny grunts. The moment shatters.
You can only stare with wide, terrified eyes.
“Johnny.” It’s the first word out of your mouth, the only thing you can conjure. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Johnny. Johnny’s not here. How can he kiss you when his partner isn’t here? His heart will be broken, you’re destroying their family, you’re-
“I kissed you, bunny. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Simon hums, still holding your face. “Johnny’s okay. He’ll be a bit jealous he didn’t get one too, but he won’t be upset.”
“How?” the question squeaks, and he takes your hand, tugging you towards the couch, settling you back into the cushions, easily guiding you with deft hands. He's so careful, so gentle, the touch of a man who raises a daughter, who loves his partner, adroit and nimble, anticipating movement before it happens. 
“After Penny goes down tonight, let’s have a drink. Or some late dinner. We can talk, and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can. How’s that sound?” He strokes a thumb across the apple of your cheek. Talking can’t hurt, can it?
“O-okay. Yeah.” You try to shrug, pain lancing through your shoulder, and you try to smother your wince. He frowns.
“I want you to get some rest today.” A small grin creeps across your face.
“You always tell people what to do?” He nods, solemn.
“It’s my job. Takin’ care of you lot is an added bonus.” He breezes by the grouping of you with his family, like it’s a normal thing, rubbing circles in your palm. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
“I can-“
“I’m here. Let me help.” You don’t say anything at first. Can’t say anything, can’t formulate a response that encompasses everything you’re thinking and feeling, stuck on the mile high wall that is your fear and denial, afraid to jump. Afraid to fall.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask you to respond, He just… settles you, cautiously arranging the pillows to support your injuries, lets you sit there atop the wall, staring down at the ground where they wait. Patiently. He rubs your back and your good shoulder until you’re drifting away in heady, hazy dream world, unable to stir when he slips free, tucking the blankets in around you, and pressing another long, lingering kiss to your brow.
You wake in a panic to the doorbell ringing. Your heart races, and you’re up off the couch, tucked around a corner of the hall, hiding, in a blink, even though your shoulder and neck scream at the sudden change of position.
Breathe. You’re losing it. Philip wouldn’t ring a doorbell. 
The door clicks open.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoes to where you’re still curled around the hallway, back pressed flat, eyes closed. “Hello? Anyone home?” Who is that? 
You peek, like a child. Peering around to see a familiar woman with grocery bags in her hands, depositing them on the kitchen counter.
She spots you immediately.
“Hi!” She’s grinning, pretty and bright, pulling a carton of milk from a brown paper bag and putting it in the fridge. “I’m Lou. Sorry, did I scare you? I tried to ‘announce’ myself.” She makes bunny ears with her fingers before and after the word announce, with half of an eye roll. “John’s always telling me I have to when I come over. Can’t be giving anyone surprises, and I knew you were here. Just wasn’t sure if you’d be up for visitors. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”
“No, I…” you trail off, readjusting, giving her your name. She nods and smiles again. “I remember you. In front of the elevator that day.”
“Yeah, that was me.” She’s earnest in her focus, beaming at you, almost like she’s excited.
“You look a little different out of your cute scrubs.” That gives you a small laugh, and you smile honestly at her, flattered.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”
“Oh no, you’re not. I was just… I’m fine.” She pulls a flat of eggs free and stacks them next to a colorful pile of produce.
“I do the store runs for Simon right now. It’s too much, with Johnny in hospital and taking care of Pen. We’ve been trying to lighten his load.” Guilt twists. And here you are, adding onto it. 
“That’s very nice of you.” She waves it off.
“They’ve kept my husband alive a million times over. It’s the least I can do.”
“Right… they… work together?”
“Simon is semi-retired but yeah. They’re in a global task force. It’s the four of them. Have you met Kyle yet?”
“Oh, yeah. At the hospital one day.”
“Best guy, really.” Her clothes swish, warm and sweet aura practically glowing.
“Yeah, he was really nice.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks you over.
“You okay?” This woman is direct. She's got a no nonsense approach, and through intense, there's true ardor in her, passion and care. 
“Yeah, I’m just… still recovering.” You don’t know what she knows, not sure what they’ve told her or John, so you’re not sure how much, or what even, to say.
“Simon told us, about you being mugged. I’m so sorry, it’s just awful.” She’s sincere in her sympathy, big brown eyes sad and considerate.
“It’s okay, thank you. I’m okay.”
“If you need anything, I’m always around. Or if you want to talk to another girl that isn’t a toddler.” It’s an olive branch of friendship, you realize, or the beginnings of, and you’re startled, considering it, wondering if it would be so bad… to have a friend.
“Thank you.” She gives you her number, and you tap it in, shooting her a text with your name.
“You should sit.”
“I can help with these.”
“No, no. No offense, but you look half asleep. I’ve got it.” You laugh even though it hurts, awkward half shrug with good shoulder, and agree.
“Yeah, I’m still recovering. It’s been slow.”
“I’m sure.” You sit at the counter, watching her organize the fridge with scary efficiency. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Just had to drop these off.”
“Oh, you’re fine.” It’s nice. You’re nice. She feels safe, the proximity to Simon and Johnny naturally leading you to feel comfortable, knowing she’s welcomed by them, she’s a part of their life. It makes you feel more at ease, and you try to convey it without getting tangled up in awkward words.
You don’t know how. Not really sure how to make genuine friends anymore, so you just sit there and watch, listening to her talk, enjoying how she rambles a little bit, laughing at herself.
When she says goodbye at the door, she promises to text you the next time she’s coming by, so you’re not surprised, and you linger there, watching her go, wondering if it’s real, surprisingly mourning the loss of companionship already.
“Johnny misses you.” The ice in Simon’s rocks glass clinks together as he sips his bourbon, corner of his mouth lifting in a partial smirk. “Not too fond of his new nurse, I’m afraid. Think he’s spoiled now.”
“How is he?” You’re on the edge of your seat for an update, but not wanting to pry too much. It’s a delicate line, one where you don’t know on which side to stand.
“Good. Wrist fracture is nearly healed, so he’ll be able to start on crutches soon. Once he does, he’ll be doing physical therapy for most of his day, and ready to come home. Should be soon.” He really smiles now, and you mirror it, unable to deny the infectious bloom of happiness spreading from him to you.
“And his liver?”
“No complications. Grafts for his burn are in great shape. Hip is the trickiest part.”
“Yeah, they take a lot longer to heal, but I’m sure he’ll do a great job of it, just like everything else.”
“Thanks to you.” You sip your wine, citrusy peach and passionfruit coating your tongue. It’s a nice bottle, and you were surprised when Simon brought it home, bag of takeaway in one arm, Penny in the other.
“No.”  Your cheeks heat. “I was just there. You guys did the hard work.”
“Wouldn’t have made it without you though. Think I would’ve lost it. Him too.”
“You would’ve been fine.” You brush it off, and he shakes his head.  
“You’re too modest.” He drains his pour, uncapping the bottle on the coffee table between you and refilling it halfway. Glass on glass chimes, and you sink deeper into the couch, relaxing, tucking your knees up until you’re half curled into a ball, wine glass cradled between your palms.
“So…”
“I told you; you can ask me whatever you like.” You knew this was the case, but hesitance is still brimming in your heart, uneasy feelings festering beneath your skin, burning question shoving to the surface.
“Did you tell Johnny we kissed?”
“I did.”
“Was he upset?”
“Only because he feels like he’s missing out. I told him we’d make it up to him.” Fire enflames your skin. We?
“And by we you mean… us. Together. Like… the three of us.”
“I do.” The girl in the mirror screams. She doesn’t understand, why you continue to act against her better judgement. Why you’re entertaining something so, so dangerous, something so stupid.
“Simon, I… I can’t.”
“You keep saying that but look where you are, bun.” He motions to the table, takeaway cartons scattered across the top, half empty bottle of wine, his bourbon, and a baby monitor. It looks like a nice night in, a simple, sweet life, not even close to being your own.
Still, the girl in mirror combats. Still.
“This isn’t… this isn’t a thing it’s just… we’re hanging out. I’m not going to be here forever, I’m looking for a place and I-“ His face changes, flicker of shadow fading across his brow before being chased away by the sunlight in his eyes. You thought he'd be easier to read, without the mask, imagined you'd be able to place his expressions but you're just as confused and lost as ever. 
“Slow down. There’s no need to look for a place to live.”
“W-what?” The wine has made you a little slow, a little sleepy, and you blink through the stupor.
“You’re still healing, sweetheart, and I know you're scared. I’ve known since the first day you stepped into Johnny’s room.”
“No.” You shake your head. Pain fizzles, numbed by alcohol, and your head swims.
“I know you weren’t mugged.” How? “I know you’re running from someone.” Oh god. The urge to get to your feet and bolt washes over you like a wave.
“I- I’m not.” The lie is bare-boned, pathetically unconvincing, and you know it. He knows it too; you can tell by the look on his face.
“You’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine. I’m patient. But you won’t be going anywhere if I don’t know you’re safe. And right now, to me, it doesn’t seem like you’re safe.” The pale yellow of your wine shines in the low lights of the living room, and you get lost in it, swirling around in his words, trying to put them together and pick them apart, desperate to understand what he means.
“Are you… are you saying you won’t let me leave?” You gulp. It’s a ridiculous conclusion, but the first one you jump to.
And in that, you know you’re giving too much away.
His face softens, and he reaches, pulling your free hand into his own, petting some sort of sequence into your skin. 
“Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never, ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do. But I do want you to stay, here with us. Where we can keep you safe, take care of you.”
“I don’t need-“
“I know you don’t. I know you take care of yourself just fine.” The indignant roar in the back of your mind settles. “But I’d love an opportunity to do it instead.”
“Simon…”
“Did you know the cells in our body hold onto trauma? They carry imprints of traumatic events. It can change your biology, the way you function.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s hard to realize… that it’s not normal, the way you might be, the way you think, or do things, when you’re carrying the physical memory of terrible things.” He’s not talking about you. There’s a fleeting flash of sadness in his eyes, ghosts circling the drain around his irises, and your heart aches. “We can help you. I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but I can guess what they’ve done- look at me.” You force your eyes back to him, and he cups your cheek. “You do not have to be afraid here. You are safe with me, with us. I know you don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you as many times you need, but it will never not be true. We can help you.”
“You don’t know… you don’t know what you’re saying.” Your denial is steadfast. They cannot possibly understand. 
A small seed of light blooms under darkness. It’s the sun, struggling to break free, trying to drag you into its warm, golden rays. It tugs and tugs, clawing towards you, illuminating the path forward.
The words come out before the girl in the mirror can stop them.
“You don’t know him. He’s sick and… powerful. He’s a monster but he’s smart, has connections, has ways of doing things that… I don’t even know. He’d kill you.” You clap your hand over your mouth in shock, surprised at yourself. It’s the most you’ve said about Philip in years.
You expect pushback. Expect Simon to flinch, or cower, or have good sense… a rational reaction to being told someone might try to hurt him.
He smiles instead, settling back on his side of the couch.
“I’d just have to get to him first, then.” Is he… is he? Simon watches you, reaches into your brains to peer inside, rooting around in your head. The way he looks at you, like he knows everything you’re feeling, can see what you're thinking, makes you shiver, makes you feel like you’re a tiny mouse in the shadow of a mountain. He sighs. “Give us a chance.”
“A chance?”
“A chance, to know you. Let us in, let us try. Stay here, with us, spend time with me and Johnny and Pen. No strings attached. If you decide it’s not for you… we’ll understand.”  
No strings attached. 
You could pick up and leave if you wanted. If you had to. 
What’re you doing? 
“How does it work? Would we all…” you trail off, confused.
“Date?” Simon finishes gently. “Yes.”
“So, you guys are… bi?” He chuckles.
“Yes, sweetheart. We’re bi.”
“Is this… a thing? Something you guys do?”
“We’ve never taken another partner before, no.” Your eyes widen. “You’re our first.” You don’t know why, but knowing is exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. You’re their first. 
He’s talking about it like it’s already happened. 
Fatigue settles in around you, thick fog of it draping over your shoulders and clouding your head.
“I… I don’t know.” You stifle a yawn. “I need to think.” He abandons his perch for one next to you, pulling your wine glass free and setting it on the table.
“Tired?” His fingers sweep over your cheek, skin warming under his touch.
“Mhmm.” You mumble, sleepily. Your head is very heavy, suddenly, hard to hold up.
“Alright.” He stands, bending to slide an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back in one fluid movement.
“What are you doing?” You squeak, grabbing onto him as he rises, lifting you into his chest at full height. Panic floods your nervous system, fevered tone pitching into a plea. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. Please, I’m too heavy, you can’t-“
“I’ve lifted a car off a teammate before.” He tells you, the thick of his body beneath your ear vibrating. “And I’ve dug Johnny out of a collapsed concrete wall. I’m made to pick things up, bunny. Heavy or not.” He holds you right there, all the way up the stairs, down the hall to the guest room, before settling you back on your feet, big hands around your waist for balance. Your back is to his chest now, and his nose drifts across the top of your head, slow path of his fingers stroking down your hip. “Alright?” He asks, and you nod, throat too dry to speak.
He squeezes. You stifle a gasp, resist the urge to press your thighs together.
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, since anyone has handled you with reverence, with affection. You almost don’t recognize it.
His hand drifts, slipping between your thigh and cheek. “This okay?” He murmurs, and you manage a rough yes, word sticky and thick in your throat. Yes. Yes, don’t stop. A fingertip strokes along the crease there, back and forth, before trailing upward. He takes as much of your flesh in his palm as he can, squeezing again, caressing, mouth skimming along your neck.  
“Oh.” you breathe. The room is warm, barely lit by the bedside lamp, and you burn in the dark, sensations sparking alive that have long laid dormant.
The girl in the mirror curses you.
“Need help getting to bed?”
“N-no.” Yes! “I’m… fine.” His lips touch your cheek, then your ear, breath blowing over you, firm, solid warm mass at your back exhaling shakily.
“Get some sleep.” He steps away, but not before he swings, slowly, softly, into the pillow plush of your ass. It’s a gentle tap, but the fire between your legs roars. “Goodnight, bun.”
“G-goodnight.”
Simon's got his sweatpants and boxers off before he's even fully in the bathroom, running right into the shower, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as the water flicks on. It's not hot enough, but he doesn't even notice, cock heavy in his grip, tip already smeared wet with pre-come. 
"Fuck, bunny." He grits, trying to stay quiet but unable to hold his tongue.
He's awful, for this. Awful for doing this after you've had such an emotional night. Awful for touching you when you're still healing, awful for grabbing a handful of your ass and imagining sliding his dick through the space between those cheeks. He can't stop, strokes himself long, squeezing the base and pulling up and back as he imagines you on all fours, perfect globe perked up in the air for him, his cock sinking into your soaking wet pussy as you moan. He knows you would make the prettiest sounds for them, sweet gasps and cries, bouncing on Johnny's cock in his lap. 
"Hop like a bunny." He'd coo, and you'd whine, riding Johnny as Simon coached you until you were so close, almost there on the edge. "Show daddy how bad you want to come, little bunny." 
He jerks himself harder, eyes closed, imagining the ripple of your flesh, the way you'd bounce so perfectly, how Johnny would be gripping your hips with his head tipped back, throat exposed for Simon to nip and suck a mark into.
His bunny. His boy. 
His toes curl. Water streams down his back, slicking his skin, forearm burning with each stroke, imagination running wild as he gets closer and closer, thinking about you and Johnny and him together, finally, your legs spread wide in front of their faces, perfect pussy on display. He can almost hear the way you'd whisper their names, and it blinds him, fills his head with white light. He knows you're beautiful when you come, as beautiful as you are when you let your guard down and give him a real smile, as beautiful as you are everyday, so pretty and perfect, kind, even as a ghost. He imagines it, pictures it, the sight of his and Johnny's come leaking out of your hole, fingers shoving it back inside, marking you as theirs. 
He comes with your name on his lips, a strangled whisper, painting the tile with himself. 
He falls asleep with a new addition in their bed, on top of Johny's t shirt and the baby monitor... there's now a long sleeved tee, plucked from your dirty laundry this morning as he was getting ready to leave. It smells like you, something he wishes he could bottle, and he holds it close, tied in tandem with Johnny's, curled in his arms on top of the pillow. 
1K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 3 months
Note
Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).
heart to heart.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.
oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3
songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco
warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader
1.4k words
you’ve been friends for years.
sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.
you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.
“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.
“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.
“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.
“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.
you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.
pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.
“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.
“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.
time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.
“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.
“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.
“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”
and he does.
you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.
“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.
two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.
lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.
“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.
you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.
“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”
“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.
“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.
“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.
“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.
“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.
“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.
“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.
finally.
“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.
“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.
shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.
you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.
“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.
“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.
“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.
the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.
but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.
“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.
he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.
when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.
you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.
“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”
“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.
“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.
-
i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops
-
taglist
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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
2K notes · View notes
baldval · 2 months
Text
VALENTINE'S DAY W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡
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characters: vox, charlie, valentino, lucifer, adam, lute, alastor
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive content if you're reading adam.
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VOX:
𖹭 the place is absolutely decorated when you get up in the morning.
𖹭 i'm talking heart balloons, flowers, and rose petals all across the floor.
𖹭 when you come into the living room, he's still in his jammies and sitting on the couch.
𖹭 you loved when he looked like that, so carefree, a contrast from his usual self.
𖹭 "Vox, what's all this?" you ask smiling
𖹭 "it's all for you, obviously."
𖹭 he stands up and walks towards you, he lifts you up and spins you around.
𖹭 you place your hands on his chest as he gently lowers you back to the floor.
𖹭 "you deserve the entire world," he whispers.
𖹭 he plants a kiss on your lips and you instantly blush.
𖹭 with a foolish smile, he wishes you a happy Valentine's Day.
𖹭 you give him lots of kisses, leaving marks all across the screen.
𖹭 you say, "I have something for you."
𖹭 "you do?"
𖹭 "duh" you chuckle
𖹭 you were aware that Vox had his eye on this watch.
𖹭 it had this gorgeous crimsom strap that matched his tie. 𖹭 when he notices it, all he does is look at you. 𖹭 love obscuring his vision 𖹭 he's amazed that you're his. 𖹭 and he feels quite fortunate. 𖹭 he carefully places the watch on the counter. 𖹭 then gives you a kiss so intense you almost feel like you're actually in heaven.
CHARLIE:
𖹭 when you walk in to your room, there are roses on your desk.
𖹭 with an enormous chocolate box of course
𖹭 and a, quite long, love letter
𖹭 the fact that she can't wait to just see you and be able to actually hold you
𖹭 you're grinning broadly to yourself.
𖹭 and you joyfully shove chocolate after chocolate into your lips.
𖹭 she doesn't meet you in the lobby, like you thought she would.
𖹭 she appears at your room.
𖹭 "hi, babe," she exclaims, excited.
𖹭 she approaches and greets you with a kiss.
𖹭 "thank you so much for everything. you say to her, "I have something for you too, you know."
𖹭 she is unable to remove her lips from yours.
𖹭 you take something out of a desk drawer as you pull her into your lap. 𖹭 you pry it open, and she lets out a half-gasp.
𖹭 you were able to get her a unique, gorgeous necklace. 𖹭 at the center is a quite shiny heart. 𖹭 you help her put it on, and the chain fits neatly around her clavicle. 𖹭 she has what is probably the biggest smile you've ever seen. 𖹭 from now on you notice, she never, ever removes the necklace.
VALENTINO:
𖹭 extravagant king.
𖹭 his name is literally Valentine so of course he'll take the day off for you.
𖹭 you and him are hand in hand on a pier.
𖹭 he's obviously wearing his best clothes, and of course you are too.
𖹭 before you know it, it's just the two of you on a small yacht.
𖹭 and the necessary employees, but they're not the main focus.
𖹭 he lavishes you with presents
𖹭 chocolate, that perfect piece of jewelry, and a tiny plush animal that he says reminded you of him
𖹭 you share a meal on the balcony while chatting and having fun.
𖹭 all while playing footsie beneath the table.
𖹭 he seems to be focusing solely on you when you talk to him.
𖹭 because he really is, staring at you with adoration.
𖹭 with your backs against each other, you sit in the living room.
𖹭 your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers comb through your hair
𖹭 he breathes steadily and deeply.
𖹭 "i wouldn't really mind if this was all we did for the rest of our lives," he says
𖹭 you plant a kiss on his shoulder while gazing out to sea.
𖹭 "that wouldn't bother me either,"
𖹭 in some way, he draws you even nearer to him.
𖹭 he kisses your face all over
𖹭 "well that's great. since you're everything to me."
LUCIFER:
𖹭 truly a hopeless romantic
𖹭 his pissing in his underwear while waiting for you.
𖹭 you open the door and say hello to him.
𖹭 the ceiling and walls are illuminated by candlelight, creating a dim atmosphere.
𖹭 there are rose petals all over the path that leads to the living room.
𖹭 you walk slowly towards him.
𖹭 he's kinda just standing there.
𖹭 and it's pretty obvious he's nervous.
𖹭 he grabs hold of your hands and draws you in.
𖹭 "hey," he says, his voice cracking right away.
𖹭 "i missed you," you say
𖹭 he murmurs back, "yeah, I missed you too, so much."
𖹭 for a small instant, he remains silent.
𖹭 but he goes on after that.
"i love you so much, and i know we've talked about how we both want to get married. and, i'll be honest, i can't imagine my life without you, and i'm just so... so in love with you, and I'm sorry, I'm rambling, it's just-" he stops suddenly, taking a deep breath.
𖹭 as he drops to one knee, his hands follow your hips and sides. 𖹭 he takes out a tiny velvet box from inside his coat. 𖹭 you have mentioned getting married before. 𖹭 and you are well aware that he is pretty much your soulmate. 𖹭 and it's Valentine's Day, so of course, he's popping the question. 𖹭 and you naturally answer: "yes". 𖹭 he stands up rapidly, your lips colliding with his. 𖹭 he tightens his grasp around the small of your back. 𖹭 he will always hold onto you.
ADAM:
𖹭 the sun began to set on valentine's day.
𖹭 adam, as charming as they come, is dressed to impress.
𖹭 he strutted alongside you as you walked towards a bench.
𖹭 the bench had this incredible view of the sea.
𖹭 adam sat down right beside you, your thighs touching.
𖹭 the times where adam was in silence were not many, yet always impactful.
𖹭 you stared at the sun as he stared at you.
𖹭 his eyes were fixated on your face, analysing your features.
𖹭 "why are you looking at me like that?" you're blushing.
𖹭 "i got something for you." he avoids your gaze now.
𖹭 clearly, adam is not used to vulnerability.
𖹭 and there was something about him being with you that just made him feel seen.
𖹭 he takes out a small box.
𖹭 "it's nothing really" he says as you open it.
𖹭 inside there's a mixtape.
𖹭 you read the names of the songs, not recognising any.
𖹭 "are these yours?" he nods.
𖹭 "the last one is named after you, actually"
𖹭 you look at him, eyes wide open, surprised at his gesture.
𖹭 with a sly smile and a playful roll of your eyes, you leaned in to steal a kiss, your heart fluttering with excitement.
𖹭 "who knew the first guy to ever exist would be such a romantic?" you teased, unable to hide the fondness in your voice.
𖹭 "you should play the mixtape as we fuc-"
𖹭 "of course you had to ruin it" you chuckle as he smirks.
𖹭 he wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lay your head on his chest.
LUTE:
𖹭 she gives you several quick kisses to wake you up.
𖹭 "hey, sleepyhead. i need you up.
𖹭 you blink away the sleepiness, as she continues to plant lips on your cheeks and jaw.
𖹭 "come on, babe, we have a reservation," she whines.
𖹭 "a reservation, huh?"
𖹭 "yes, please get up right now."
𖹭 she puts on a sharp dress shirt and matching dress pants.
𖹭 she gives you a bouquet of your favorite flower as you meet her at the door.
𖹭 she takes one of the flowers, clips it, and tucks it behind your ear.
𖹭 you then walk to a close cafe, arm in arm.
𖹭 it isn't really that fancy but it is beautiful.
𖹭 the place is filled with tulips and it smells like what you figured spring would smell like.
𖹭 in a quiet space, a table is already prepared for the two of you.
𖹭 you two laugh while eating breakfast.
𖹭 you two could chat for hours on end and never get bored.
ALASTOR:
𖹭 he's just getting started with all of this relationship stuff.
𖹭 he had no one to share valentine's with before to this year.
𖹭 thus, he is anxious and perplexed.
𖹭 but of course he will do everything in his power to hide it, keeping his smile to appear calm.
𖹭 after work, he brings a bouquet home with him.
𖹭 they are your favourite colour and flower.
𖹭 because of course he knows every single thing that you love.
𖹭 and he brings cake instead of chocolate.
𖹭 "aw, Alastor." you blush
𖹭 "well, i didn't find any chocolate boxes shaped like hearts, but i did find a cake shaped like a heart."
𖹭 you chuckle
𖹭 but it doesn't truly bother you
𖹭 quietly, he says, "i made sure to get your favorite flavor, and i swear there's no human parts in this"
𖹭 "it may not be much, but it is what I could find,"
𖹭 you interrupted him with a kiss.
𖹭 "Alastor" you say his name and his eyes flutter.
𖹭 "i don't think you could ever guess how happy you make me"
𖹭 he feels like his heart is trying to burst out of his chest. 𖹭 he draws you into a close embrace. 𖹭 you spend the evening eating cake and snuggling on the couch.
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kombuuuu · 11 months
Note
hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?
For the Soul (and the Heart)
Miles!42 x Fem!Reader
“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”
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AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE
Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection
please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!
The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.
Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.
Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.
Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.
Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”
There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.
The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.
The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.
The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.
“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.
“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”
You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”
Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”
You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.
“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”
She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”
“Thank you.”
She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.
“Thank you, again.”
“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.
“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”
"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."
Miles glanced up in confusion.
“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”
“Why me?”
“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”
“She’s pretty, and around your age.”
“Ma, porfavor.”
“Ma, please.”
“Go.”
“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.
You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.
There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.
The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.
People feared him, the violence he brought with him.
You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?
If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?
The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.
“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”
“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”
“Sí mamá, ya sé.”
“Yeah mama, I know.”
The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.
The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.
“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”
“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.
“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.
“I’m Miles, by the way.”
“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”
His lips upturned again at the compliment.
You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.
“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”
You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”
He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.
Like claws.
Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.
Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.
The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.
And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.
Miles was about the same, probably worse.
You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.
So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.
“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.
You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.
Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.
You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.
“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”
He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.
“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”
Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.
You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.
“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.
His voice had gone deeper, smoother.
“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.
He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.
The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.
“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.
“Of course, Mami.”
“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”
You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.
“Mm, it is.”
“And you’re here.”
He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.
He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.
“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”
“You too, Miles.”
“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.
“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”
He hummed.
“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”
It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.
Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.
How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.
Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.
Every little thing.
He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.
He knew you felt the same.
Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.
And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.
He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.
You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.
Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.
Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.
It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:
Can you come over later?
He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.
And you did, swiftly replying;
okayyyy !!
I’ll pick you up at 7.
six…?
7, [Name].
>:(
Don’t be childish.
i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:
You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.
Your phone pinged again.
See you at six.
You smiled.
You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.
He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.
“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”
“Don’t apologise, Miles.”
You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.
“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”
You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.
You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.
You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“You good, Chiquita?”
“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”
“Mmhm.”
You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.
“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.”
He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.
“Maybe ask politely.”
You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.
“Miles.”
“[Name].”
“Oh my god.”
“It’s just a ‘please’.”
“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”
“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.
You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.
You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.
He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.
Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.
“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”
“Mm, thought you’d like it.”
“I do, so much.”
You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.
The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.
“My dad.”
Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.
“I’m sorry.”
“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”
He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.
Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.
He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.
There was no escaping his death.
So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.
He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.
“Come sit, vida mía.”
You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.
A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.
There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.
You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.
“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.
“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”
You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.
“Wh—.”
It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.
“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”
“It would.”
He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”
“Mm, we could—,”
He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.
“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”
“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.
“I’ve wanted that for a while.”
“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”
He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.”
You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.
“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”
“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”
“Uhuh.”
“Miles!”
“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”
“Oh my goodness!”
And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.
Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.
But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.
It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.
YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️
thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife
(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)
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6K notes · View notes
the-record · 3 months
Text
☀️ i see the light ☀️
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summary: ellie is just trying to hide from the guards when she stumbles apon a tower and a girl with really long hair.
pairing: flynn ryder!ellie williams x rapunzel!reader
warnings: non me things
a/n: i want to thank the oh so lovely @meowmeowtimw for sending me their gorgeous art, and also everyone who anticipated this fic. thank you so much for the love. also, first time doing a taglist, but let me know if you’d like to be added!
this is going to be done in parts bc my tumblr glitches and i dont want to lose any writing and delay this anymore! i have changed it up a bit from the movie to attempt to fit ellie as a character and not feel like im writing out the script but all the iconic moments will be included
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you’re not quite sure how she ended up here. knocked out and stuffed in your wardrobe.
earlier, it had just been you and pascal. your mother out fetching ingredients for dinner, your birthday dinner.
she’d shut down your hopes and dreams of seeing the lights you saw every year for your birthday. she called them stars, made you feel fragile and weak. left with a half hearted goodbye.
thats when the girl showed up.
short auburn hair, climbing the tower with arrows. before you knew it, she was passed out on the floor, a frying pan in your hands.
in her bag though, that was the interesting piece. something gold and shiny, crystals decorating the circle. too big to be a bracelet, too beautiful to be a magnifying glass.
you and pascal jumped as your mother called up the tower, a surprise apparently. when you tried bringing up the lights once more, she’d simply laughed, brushing it off. you tried again, but gave up when she yelled, asking for paints.
she left, leaving you alone again. until you weren’t.
a girl, in your window.
now in your chair, tied up with pascal on her shoulder. he licked her ear, once, twice, three times before she jolted awake with a yell.
“what the hell?”
you took a deep breath, still hiding in a shadow.
“struggling… struggling is pointless.”
she looked around, taking in what was holding her down. was it, hair?
“i know why you’re here, and im not afraid of you.” slowly, you stepped into her view. “who are you, and how did you find me?”
“am i wrapped in hair?” the girl gawked at you, struggling under the wraps. “who am i? who are you? this is insane. this is kidnapping, just so you know.”
your face dropped. “you broke in first.”
“and you knocked me out and tied me up! with hair! who even has this much hair?” she groaned as she struggled.
“so you dont know who i am?” you whispered as you stepped closer.
she looked at you incredulously, “are you joking? of course not. can you let me out now?” you nodded as you stopped in front of her.
only now did you really notice her. short auburn hair, tied up at the back. green eyes that matched yours. freckles lining her nose and cheeks. lips slightly cracked and parted.
“ill let you out, if you promise me one thing.” she rolled her eyes but nodded. “every year, on my birthday, there are these lights. my mother told me they were stars, but ive tracked the stars for years.” you turned away and pulled back the curtain to your most recent painting. “they’re floating lights, and you are going to take me to them.” she hesitated but you quickly jumped in. “and if you don’t, say goodbye to your satchel.”
she sighed and relaxed into the chair. “alright, fine.” she smiled as your eyes lit up and you ran to her. “ill take you. but, we’re going my way.” you nodded excitedly as you untangled her from your hair. “and, im ellie by the way.”
“rapunzel.”
she shook out her limbs before standing. “rapunzel? pretty.”
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“so you’ve really never been outside the tower before?”
ellie walked slightly ahead with her hands in her pockets, a small smile on her face. she said she knew a place to stop on your way to the kingdom.
you nodded as you took in everything. “she said it was too dangerous for me out here. that id get eaten alive.”
ellie frowned a bit as you spoke. you were definitely a bit ditzy, but smart. you weren’t naive but you noticed the good in everything you’d seen.
“so,” you pulled up beside ellie, nearly bumping her. “how did you find me?”
“i didn’t actually intend to.” she said, looking at you. “i was running, from… some very bad people, and i stumbled apon a pass in the woods. totally by accident. and when i went through it, there it was. the tower.” she watched as you nodded. “i figured id just, go up. i wasnt really thinking someone might be there.”
“obviously.” you teased.
she rolled her eyes, “alright whatever. i just needed somewhere to wait everyone out. and then you came out of nowhere and tried to maim me.”
you gasped, hitting her arm as she laughed. “i thought you were gonna hurt me! what was i supposed to do?”
“okay, fair enough.” you walked in silence for awhile, side by side, hands grazing.
ellie couldn’t help but feel a pull to you. you were kind, and funny. she hadn’t known you very long, but she knew she wanted to know more. and she couldn’t deny your beauty.
she was knocked out of her thoughts as you pointed to a sign in the distance.
snuggly duckling.
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taglist: @urcherrr @onlinelesbo @diddiqueen @pedropascalsbbg @dinaismyfavmilf @madislayyy @ellieswilliamsgf @williamellieslilho @iove-bbb @swxxtbnny
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fluffylino · 4 months
Text
hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)
-contains mature themes
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your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.
ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.
he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.
quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.
right next to your standing figure.
you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.
he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.
two days ago. the both of you had an argument.
it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.
of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.
you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.
it read :
"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.
- :] "
he seemed to take it seriously.
in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.
of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.
but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.
washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.
almost like a attention deprived puppy.
today though was different.
you looking forward to his next attempt.
the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.
except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.
you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.
he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.
his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-
was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?
you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.
you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.
making you want to pounce on him.
shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.
you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.
was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.
the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.
you wanted to take him right there and then.
in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.
and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.
Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.
like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.
"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.
"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.
"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.
"m'sorry"
you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.
god, he was so cute.
.
.
"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.
"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.
the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.
lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.
his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.
"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.
"y-yes...always at your service"
you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.
"anything for you m-master"
"anything? careful what you wish for baby"
"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"
.
..
.
i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?
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ywuji · 1 month
Note
Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol
ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)
perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)
n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...
i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.
it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)
it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 
he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.
maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.
but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.
nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.
and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.
you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.
honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(
no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.
“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.
when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.
he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.
when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.
a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?
at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.
he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”
in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.
he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.
he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.
he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.
he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.
he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.
he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.
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rae-writes · 1 year
Text
An Angel...
om demons x reader (+Simeon, Solomon)
wc : 1.k
warnings : simping bois, humor, some sprinkled suggestive comments
synopsis : a deviltok trend has the boys on their knees for you (though that’s nothing new)
a/n : this audio scratches an itch in my brain and I needed to do something with it
angel ver. 
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<Asmodeus> GUYS!!!  YOU HAVE TO WATCH THIS!!!! NOW!!!!! LIKE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
[attachment sent]
Casually clicking on the video file, his interest peaked immediately when he saw you. Clad in your RAD uniform, you were positioned in frame a couple steps back. 
“Who are you?” 
He watched you slowly stalk forward with a smile on your face; it was both reassuring and off putting. Only someone like him would be able to notice. 
“An angel…”
You held out your hand towards the camera gently, as if beckoning someone closer. 
“What’s your name?”
The transition was fast— smooth. In an instant, your hand came up and grabbed the phone, like you were choking someone, causing the frame to shake. 
“Satan.”
Once the shaking transition stopped, with your hand still in its previous position, his mouth dropped. You had completely transformed yourself into what he assumed is your version of their demon form. 
Realistic black sheep horns protruded from your head, curling backwards around your ear and ending at your middle jaw. There were light purple extensions added here and there, blending with your hair perfectly. Your free hand had come up to splay over your malicious grin- showing off the fangs you’d added and the sharpness of your new nails. The outfit you wore was revealing- black with shiny accents and shiner jewelry - easily showing the intricate marks you’d drawn over the exposed skin. 
[8 people saved a video attachment] 
Lucifer
His stupidly handsome face forms the most obnoxious smug smirk imaginable 
Don’t get me wrong, he was absolutely flustered. On the inside. 
On the outside though, he radiated pride and smugness 
Like ‘yeah. That’s my Mc. mine. Eat it.’ 
Not that he would ever speak those words. Totally not
Was he also slightly bugged that Asmo seemed to be the only one who had access to this video? Sure. 
Was he gonna make sure his brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos deleted this from everything they owned? Of course. 
But first, he’s gotta get you to dress up like that for him in person 
Mammon
Mans was astonished. Eyebrows had shot through the heavens, mouth was dropped down to sea floor level, cheeks were a blazing inferno— he was in awe 
First thought : ‘HELL YEAH, MC, YA LOOK HOT!’ 
Second thought : ‘WAIT HOLD UP, THE OTHERS ARE SEEIN THIS TOO-‘ 
Really though, Mammon is just so in awe at how gorgeous you looked 
especially in that gold he knows he bought you
Immediately takes a screenshot of you in that getup and makes it his home screen wallpaper
Then he texts you, begging demanding you dress up like that again because he wants to make videos with you in his demon form too!
I mean, if he doesn’t get to have his hands all over you and his mouth on you like that, how will anyone get the message you’re only for him?
Levi
Someone call the equivalent of 911 for the Devildom, Levi might just be coding 
Actually- don’t even worry about it, he’s just a big puddle on the floor! No worries! 
He. Is. FLUSTERED! Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it really- 
Levi can't breathe, can’t talk, can’t even wave his hands around frantically to express his lost words
Irl version of a windows restart. 
But as soon as he does reboot, he’s doing his best impression of Oprah into his pillow with how high pitched he’s screaming 
Would love to take a picture with you in that outfit while he’s in his demon form or have you sit on him 
He’ll send you a bunch of emojis in show of his approval but his normal skin tone still isn’t visible under the blush for hours
Satan
Smug as fuck about the audio itself. Definitely silently bragging
Aside from that, Satan is absolutely willing to kneel for you in that outfit 
He’s studied with you on seductive speechcraft but this? He was not ready
Has to take a minute to get his bearings together and to wipe that blush off his face
Satan’s actually pretty speechless for a good 30 minutes 
Not that he’d let you know. He will, however, be telling you how fucking good you looked
Wants to ask if you’ll walk around town with him in his demon form too so everyone can see 
Power couple ™— Take that Lucifer 
Asmo
Azzy is on his knees in an instant- pliant and ready for you to fucking step all over him 
The moment he saw the video he was liking, favoriting, commenting, saving, sharing- everything 
He’d suggested something similar for you to do in the past but you just. 
You went light years beyond what he was expecting the outcome to be and he is here for it 
#1 supporter and immediately is coming up with different- sexier -outfits for you to wear
Will ask, beg if he has to, if you’d come have a photo shoot with him (surprisingly he mainly wants to take photos of just you) 
Admitting to anyone who listens that your beauty is absolutely on par with his 
On his way to your room right this instant- but only after he shares the video with the others 
Beel
Choked. 
You’d think he hadn’t ate in years with how much he was drooling but no
He was just looking at you in that outfit. Which he thought was amazing. 
You are easily the most delicious thing he’s ever laid eyes on (“Gorgeous too…”) and he can’t wait to tell you to your face 
Wonders if you’d have a tail or wings if you really did have a demon form 
Wants to ask Diavolo if there’s magic to make you a real, temporary demon form to find out
Please come to one of his Fangol games dressed like that. He’d promise to win for the rest of the season- and succeed
Overall flustered with his cute blush present, but unlike Satan or Levi, he doesn’t mind showing you 
Belphie
Two words : “holy. fuck.” or alternatively : “fuck. me.”
He is sprinting- yes, sprinting- throughout the fucking house and barreling straight through your door
On his knees faster than Asmo was and is ready at light speed to crawl at your feet and wrap his arms around your leg 
All of his usual curt expressions are thrown out the window without a care in the world
No pure thoughts behind those doe eyes. Not a single one. 
Convinces you to let him take a picture from underneath you while you’re choking him to put as his lock screen because he needed it
Will not be letting you go for the next 24 hours or longer
Fakes innocence like a pro when the others accuse him of hogging you to himself (“they are mine” he snips, even though you have the metaphorical leash right now)
Barbatos 
Mmmmmm, the silent simping is strong in this one
He was simultaneously so fucking ready and so very much not ready for that
Does not know what to do with himself for the next 2-7 business days
Had to put down shit he was cleaning multiple times before he broke something (because you actually broke him)
Straight up doesn’t even ask to show up in your room this time, he just does and immediately beelines to shove his face into your neck 
No, his ears are not red. I believe you might be color blind Mc…
Won’t outright admit how badly you affected him- he just lets out a small ‘you look lovely’ like yeah, Barb? Just lovely? 
Please wear this to the next formal event you attend to watch him lose his cool for split second intervals all night
Diavolo 
If he didn’t have millennia of training on composure, he’d been screaming as loud as Levi 
Instead he settles for slamming his hand on his desk like that meme Asmo showed him 
Concerning his butler a bit, but Diavolo is a proud simp- he ADMITS it
Please come sit on him. Let HIM sit on YOU, for all he cares
You look so good?? What the fuck?? Marry him?? (<<exact texts he sends you)
Tries to find ways to give you a real demon form before getting scolded
Volunteers whole heartedly to let Asmo take pictures of both of you while you’re dressed like that
Ring, ring, Lucifer, he’s coming over ASAP, don’t be alarmed when he shows up at the door
Bonus : 
Solomon
Fuck this man is so down bad for you
I mean, he knew that before but this is just something else, Mc, what have you done to him? 
Knows you’re still human but god does he crave having your pact mark seared into his body (it’s a guilty pleasure of his)
Maybe you’ll just create one and tattoo it on anyway
No second thoughts, teleports to your room immediately to yank you into a kiss
Door is locked- Solomon refuses to let the brothers snatch you away from him rn
Please get on top of him and show him how real your fake fangs and nails feel
Will actually beg without a fight
Simeon
Thinks he should not find this as attractive as he does but the heat flooding through his body disagrees
Gets so hot and flustered, it would be concerning if he wasn’t an actual angel 
Drinks a whole ass cup of water in less than 2 seconds 
Personification of ‘hold my mf halo’ as he makes his way to your place once he calms down a bit
Yes, he’ll take pictures with you with his wings on display and yes, he may or may not be into this (and if you start a little roleplay with him? He’s ascending.)
Don’t tease and make fun of him, he can’t help it! He’s not trying to blush- though he isn’t trying to hide it either
Lies through his teeth without hesitation when he gets questioned about the faint lines on his shoulders 
Heaven’s filthiest angel, on brand
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spdrwdw · 3 months
Note
Could you possibly do a dbf (dads best friend) miguel.? nsfw Ty!😋
Ps. I love your stories
While I am okay with doing age gaps, both parties must be of legal age. I hope headcanons are okay! I had too many ideas and couldn’t narrow it down lol
♡DBF!Miguel Headcanons♡
Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, age gap, smut, nsfw
A/N: If any other writers out there are interested in using any of my headcanons for a fic, please let me know! I wouldn’t mind as long as you credit me. I would turn this to a fic myself, but I already got my hands full with other wips. ❤️
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DBF!Miguel who you met for the first time at your dad's country club. You couldn't help but to steal glances over his way, and unbeknownst to you, he was doing the same.
DBF! Miguel who went to your house one day to hang out with your dad, they were going to watch a game on tv. While your dad was outside firing the grill, Miguel couldn't help but stare at you as you lounged around by the pool in your swimsuit, soaking up some sun. You could see him staring at you through your sunglasses, a slight smirk lifting your lips. DBF! Miguel who came over to your house one day while your parents were away to fix something for your dad. You were upstairs in your room studying for your college exams when he passed by, seeing you in nothing but a tank-top and panties as you laid sprawled out on the bed. You turned around and noticed him just staring at your by the doorway before he quickly left. This made you want to make him notice you more. So, you started wearing the most revealing pieces of clothing you had.
DBF! Miguel who came over again for another game night with your dad. You did your hair and makeup and wore the most revealing dress you had, making your way downstairs over to the kitchen. You swayed your ass as you walked, making you he would notice you, and he did. That was the first time he had made his way into your room. DBF! Miguel who would come over more often while your parents weren't home, and not because he was going to fix something. At first it was a little awkward between the two of you when you were along with him, but, he was always gentle with you. It was rather sweet. However, as your private encounters occurred more frequently, you wanted him to not be as gentle with you.
DBF! Miguel who would by laying on your bed, his large frame taking over the majority of the bed, his legs dangling over the edge because of how big he was. He would help you with any homework that you may have, even help you study for tests. After you were done, he'd eat your pussy out as a reward. His tongue practically swallowed your folds, he usually didn't even need to use his fingers to get you undone, but when he did, your body would be quivering and flailing as you begged him for release, which he always gladly awarded you. DBF! Miguel who's cock was just so big that the first time you had intercourse, you honestly thought he was going to break you. But, he didn't. He filled you up rather nicely and after that, you had gotten addicted to him stretching you and pounding into you, filling you with his cum. Of course, he'd ask if you were on any form of birth control first. DBF! Miguel who will shoot you a pointed look whenever you tease him from under the table. You'll be sitting across from him and slip off your shoe, reaching over and rub his crotch with your foot. He would have to bite his lip from letting out a groan, and you could feel his cock growing hard underneath his pants.
DBF! Miguel who would give you a lift to and from your University, sporting his shiny sports car. The some car in which he would fuck you senseless in while parked in some secluded area. The windows would be tinted so no one could see what was going on inside. DBF! Miguel who'd call you a 'good girl' whenever you take his cock into your mouth and suck him off. He loved it when he came in your mouth and would see streams of his cum drooling from the corners of your mouth because it was just too much for you to swallow it all.
DBF! Miguel who secretly loves it when you call him ‘daddy’ while he rails you. It puts him on edge and he knows it won’t be long until he is spilling himself inside you. DBF! Miguel would you let you ride him on your bed. He's be surrounded by your plushies, which was actually pretty humorous to you. Here was a big man getting fucked by you while surrounded by all of your cutesy plushies.
DBF! Miguel who would low-key be your sugar-daddy because he would always be buying you things, no matter how expensive it was. He would take you on his yacht and fuck you either in the cabin or out on the deck.
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jilixthinker · 2 months
Text
SKZ AS SUBS - MAKNAE LINE 🥀
as the self-proclaimed sub!skz ambassador, i felt the need to share my version to the internet just because this was boiling inside of my brain for too long, so... i am sorry ♡
content warning: sub!skz, dom!fem reader, unprotected sex, mention of subspace, dacryphilia, perv tendencies, overstimulation, light BDSM, boob sucking, mommy kink, noona kink, anal play (m receiving), cross dressing, feet play, lactation kink, food play, dumbification, pet play, choking, breeding kink, cum play, virgin, reversed corruption kink, sex toys, masturbation, oral sex (both receiving)
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HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE
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➛ Han
- whiny™️. the word whiny was created for hannie himself. he becomes a sobbing mess after just one second of you touching him, even if it's not sexual;
- dacryphilia will soon become one of your biggest kinks, even if you didn't explore it before meeting him. he cries, pants, sobs and hiccups at every slight friction and will plead to not to stop, ever;
- tears are not the only thing making your boy messy. because he also drools. a lot. he does it when he is on top of you, face hidden in the crook of your neck, and when it's you topping him, cheek pressed into the soaked pillow under his head;
- with hannie you are gonna have multiple rounds almost everytime. he doesn't last too much, poor angel, because he is always overwhelmed with how warm and tight and wet you feel and he just cannot hold himself. he recovers very fast though, and he will happily suck you into his mouth in those few minutes of waiting;
- be prepared, because he is horny 24/7, and gets pussydrunk very quickly. he is up to anything you can give him? handjob before going to work? quickie in the restroom? filthy audios to keep him satiated? he wants it all;
- he has slight perv tendencies. it's consensual of course, and you told him multiple times that you are perfectly fine with everything he does, but he likes to pretend you don't know. the rush of adrenaline he gets by stealing your panties to bring them to work and taking dirty photos of you when you are not looking makes him feel dirty, and he likes it;
- since he cums really quickly and he is very horny all the times, i can see him being into overstimulation. he will beg you to keep circling the palm of your hand on his cockhead until he almost squirms away, and then he will cum for a second time in a few seconds;
- he has a filthy mouth, and he won't shut up under any circumstance. your neighbors probably hate you;
- he likes to be as submissive and yours as possible. he loves being your little toy to play with, and he will often ask you to finger his mouth as if it was his pussy, and to tie him so he cannot move to much and be completely under your control;
- he prefers when you ride him. he loves seeing you ravishing him and milk him dry, but especially because he just can't get enough of your boobs. when you stay on top he can bury his face on them and suckle at your nipples until your chest is all covered in drool;
- kind of obvious but he has a mommy kink/noona kink, and calling you that while you are fucking him makes his brain feel floaty and fuzzed. "Please noona, oh f-fuck, please - ah nnghh - p-please mama, mommy, let me cum, mama - uhh".
- he is into anal play, but for him. hannie will ask you to finger him, fuck him with your strap, rim him and put a plug in his cute wiggly butt at least once a week. he feels like your princess like that, he cannot help it.
➛ Felix
- here we have him, angel boy lixie. the softest, the sweetest, the embodiment of love. just a look at him and you would give him the entire universe;
- just as binnie, i think that also felix would be into cross dressing. he buys all the pink lacey underwear that he can find on the internet, and he pairs them with pleated skirts and high stokings;
- he will also add a few cute ribbons on his hair, and maybe a little bit of make up too. a rosey eyeshadow, shiny highlighter and glossy lipstick, better if sticky. he will let you fuck him without taking anything off, just pull the panties apart and slide his puffy cockhead on your folds until he cums prettily all over himself;
- he loves you so much he almost worships you. whenerver he is intimate with you, you will always find him looking at you fondly, tears almost prickling his eyes. he cannot help it, he just feels so much when you are together that he cannot believe how lucky he is;
- lixie has particular kinks, but he loves every single inch of you, and he will make sure to let you know. i have the feeling he would love feet stuff a little bit more than he wants to admit. especially when you are chilling on the sofa together, and your sole presses too close to his groin. he always feels a little aroused and filthy for the fact he enjoys this kind of stimulation;
- another mommy kink enthusiast here. he loves being cuddled and pampered by you. the nickname falls naturally out of his lips whenever you give him pleasure, and he sounds so innocent while doing it that it becomes an habit also out of the bedroom;
- lixie loves your breasts. he massage them to fall asleep and he suck on them as a comfort whenever he feels a little bit overwhelmed or fuzzy into his headspace. he like to be babied like that, to be lulled in your arms while he suckles softly on your nipples with pouted lips;
- and this led to his lactation kink. he is not ashamed of asking you to pretend to brestfeed him whenever he is stressed out. "b-baby please, gimme your milk, it was an awful day, p-please";
- he will need a lot of physical touch, such as holding hands, hugging and kissing. He loves every position in which he can be as close to you as he can;
- he wants and gives baby talk all the time. every cute nickname is okay for him, but his favorite are love, angel, sweetheart and sugar;
- definively into food play. he will take every chance to play with you while cooking and baking, sweet hiccups while you twirl your tongue on the head of his honey-dripping cock and lap at his sweet balls underneath;
- talks in 3rd person while in subspace. "uh- mommy, a-angel.. lix -uggghn- l-lixie is cumming, oh god, lixie is c-cumming".
➛ Seungmin
- i am a strong believer that seungmin is the hardest sub of all the boys. whenever he is in the bedroom his personality will shift drastically until he becomes a brainless needy thing;
- minnie is always so stoic and composed in real life that he just needs to let go. sex for him is the only way he can empty his head and give you the absolute control of his body;
- that's why he immediately falls into his subspace as soon as you get intimate with each other. he cannot conceive any other way of loving you than to give you complete power over him;
- i can see him being into light humiliation and dumbification. minnie needs to be useful for you and he will do anything to fulfill your desires. he gets off on the feeling of being your toy and your sexual object, and the embarassment he feels whenever you call him your dumb thing makes his head spin;
- for this exact reason, he is into pet play as well. he loves to be reduced as a silly puppy who needs to earn his treats. whenever you make him kneel in front of you to take food directly from your hands, his cock is always red and leaky against his lap. you often let him hump your calf and stop him just before he cums just to see him crying and pleading for you;
- after a few months, he will probably ask you to explore choking on him. you establish a few rules and safe words before you try that, and the way he just mewls while you lightly restrain his breath will convince you to do it more often;
- minnie needs to be owned. he will ask you to give him a tiny collar with your name on it, and he will wear it everywhere, even at work, hidden under his clothes;
- he always follows your orders diligently, but he enjoys his punishments a little bit too much as well. he pretends not to, because he wants to be your good pup, but he cannot hide the way his wet cock almost drools with precum every time your hand slap the soft fat of his butt, or the back of his balls;
- being so utterly in love with you, he will quickly develop a breeding kink. he cannot hold himself whenever he hears your voice tempting him, and he will cum the hardest if you combine it with a little degradation. "is my little pup ready to breed? mmh... i'm not sure. dumb pup is so weak to fill me up with his cum, isn't he? but you can try, puppy, you can try stuffing me full of your babies."
- and, of course, he is the weakest for cum play. especially if you let him lap his own release out of your folds after he emptied his load inside of you;
- another non verbal baby. as soon as you start pleasuring him, he will not be able to form a single sentence anymore. just sighs, sobs, soft moans and mewls;
➛ I.N
- here we go, another sub enthusiast here!! sweet, lovely innie is so happy of being with you that just cannot wait to try everything that he can;
- i can see him being a virgin before meeting you. not because he didn't have the opportunity of experiencing sex with anyone, but because he wanted to wait for his true love and be as confortable as possible;
- that's why he quickly develops a reversed corruption kink. innie wants - no, he needs - you to ruin him for good. he wants to feel little and inexperienced under your gaze. he wants to know that you are there for him, to teach him and guide him until he knows how to pleasure and be pleasured;
- after the first stages, he becomes unsatiable. he will ask for you to fuck him multiple times a day. poor baby will make up for all the time he lost!;
- he wants to try as many sex toys as he can. he will probably buy a bunch randomly without even know how to use them, and then place them neatly on your bed while waiting for you to show him the way they work;
- he gets pussydrunk pretty fast. he loves eating you out and fingering you the most. as soon as he is confident enough, he will ask you to sit on his face and ride his tongue until you cum on him;
- the prettiest soft grunts while you ride him or you manhandle him, "uh, nnnngh, ff-fuck, ahhh, oh g-god";
- thigh guy for sure. he goes crazy every time he sees you in a short skirt or in a tight pair of jeans. he will look at your legs so much he will almost go crossed-eye and will mentally pray for you to suffocate him with them as soon as you come back home;
- he loves to watch you masturbating. he will sit obediently at the foot of your bed, enraptured by the schlick sound of your fingers pushing in and out of your wet pussy, baby boy almost salivating at the sight;
- call him a simple guy, but he cums the hardest with sloppy blowjobs. he knows he has to stay still, but he usually cannot handle it till you give him permission and will end up thrusting in your mouth just a couple of times before you smack his ass and bring him back to his place;
- another noona lover here. he just loves the feeling of your experienced hands guiding him into pure bliss and to be called your pretty little boy;
- "noona, what was that? oh-ohhh g-god that feels amazing, p-please do it again."
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taglist: @jisunglyricist @hannahhhhs-things @hyuniehwa @changisworld @hyunjinhoexxx @yoobears @rockstrhanji @yongboks-stuff @taliavaleska @hw4-l1z @4-chan-inpadella @k-cock @biglipsfattits @vanillacupcakefrosting @simpity-wimpity
if you see your name in bold, it means that I couldn't tag you!
©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
Text
Double Podium Baby!
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Lando and Oscar get a double podium -their girlfriend has to celebrate
Lando x reader x Oscar
"Oh my god, Osc! That was incredible!" Cried Y/N as she went to greet one of her boyfriends after the Qatar grand prix. "You're incredible!" She shouted, pulling him into her arms.
Oscar kissed her slow before showing off his trophy. "You've got to be the greatest rookie ever," Y/N said softly as she kissed him again.
And then she turned around, going to find her other boyfriend. She congratulated Max on his title as she went to find Lando.
Lando, of course, was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't celebrating as he usually did, by kissing Y/N and holding Oscar close (which took some time to happen, the three weren't too sure on telling the world about them before).
Y/N travelled through the McLaren garage, heading towards her boyfriends drivers room. "Lando," she called softly as she knocked. "Baby, are you in there?"
When there was no answer, she pushed her way in.
There Lando sat, his third place trophy in his hand. He looked at Y/N as she entered but quickly returned his gaze to his trophy. "Lando, baby, honey, what's the matter?" She asked, crouching down beside him, one hand on his knee.
There was a moment of silence between them, but Y/N kept staring up at him, concern written on her face.
"I should have done better," he confessed. "I should have come second, or even first." Lando put the trophy down on the sofa next to him, but there was a part of him that wanted to throw it across the room.
Pushing her way between his legs, Y/N grabbed her face and kissed him. Trying to snap him out of this moment of stupidity. But, when she pulled away, Lando still looked like a kicked puppy. "You drove so well out there, Lan. I'm so proud of you. Oscar is, too! You were overtaking like a champion. A future world champion," she said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair.
Lando wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up and into his chest. "It was a really tough race," he said through a sob. "How is Oscar doing?" Lando asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
"Come and find out," Y/N said and pulled him to his feet.
Landos legs were shaking as he and Y/N walked to find Oscar. After Max's podcast, Lando had completely disappeared. He had walked away before Oscar could get a word with him.
Oscar, who was now waiting outside of the McLaren garage. Oscar, who's face was red and face was shiny with sweat. Oscar, who launched himself at Lando the moment he saw him.
Y/N stood back as they hugged. Her boys. They were her boys. Lando ran his hands through Oscars hair, knocking the hat from his head. "Well done, Osc," he whispered and kissed the top of his head. "That was such a rough race."
"I know, Lan. But you drove so well. I love being on the podium with you."
"I love seeing the both of you up there," said Y/N as she walked towards them and pushed her way between them. Oscar and Lando kissed the top of her head and walked away with her tucked in the middle of them. They walked out of the paddock and into the car, making their way back to the hotel room.
Y/N did a lot of talking with Lando when they got back to the hotel room. While Oscar showered and got ready for bed, Y/N had a chat with Lando. She reminded him of where he was now compared to the year before, how many podiums he had stepped on compared to the year before.
She reminded him that, in the last year he'd gone from the mid field to being a real competitor in the sport, that he'd met the loves of his life and he was getting to compete alongside them. She reminded Lando of a lot of things before he finally got onto his social media to post something.
It was a sweet picture, he, Oscar and Max together before he had run off. Lando posted it with a short and sweet celebratory caption. "There you go, Lan," whispered Y/N as she pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Once Oscar was done in the shower, it was his turn. Lando took his sweet time in the shower, washing away the sweat and worries of the day. As he showered, Oscar and Y/N cuddled. Even in the heat they held each other closer, unable to stay away from each other.
"You're amazing, you know that?" She whispered to him as she laid against his chest. "I'm obsessed with you, Osc." Y/N kissed his jaw and shut her eyes as she leaned against him.
Oscar kissed the top of her head. This was one of his favourite positions to be in, with his girl snuggled against him. The only thing that would have made it better would be if Lando was on the other side of her, his chest pressed against her back, his arm around her middle.
When Lando emerged from the shower, he had just his towel wrapped around his waist. Y/N let out a whistle when she saw him, pulling her lip between her teeth. "I can't believe we get you," she said and pulled him closer, letting the towel dropped to the floor.
That was how the three of them spent the night, cuddled up to one another, wrapped around each other, bodies entwined.
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seeingivy · 11 months
Text
birthmark 
satoru gojo x f!reader 
satoru’s suddenly more appreciative of scars 
content warning: MANGA SPOILERS, canon divergence bc im not gege and they all deserve to be happy, reader described as pregnant, giving birth/c-section, hospitals, pain (kinda), big brother megumi + tsumiki, lil corny family, 
an: happy fathers day to our fav dad :DDD reader is described as having dark hair in comparison to satoru but tbh every hair color is dark compared to white unless you have white hair them im sorry
“Hi baby.” 
“What do you want, Satoru?” 
“I wasn’t talking to you.” 
You take your eyes off from the screen to find Satoru lying across the couch, his head very close to your stomach. His blindfold is hanging around his neck, his shiny, blue eyes staring right at the bump. 
“He doesn’t have ears yet.” 
“You don’t know that. We have father-daughter telepathy. She can hear me.” 
“If anyone was going to have telepathy with him, because he is most definitely a boy, it’s going to be me.” 
He rolls his eyes, lying his head against your stomach as he continues staring down - his eyes focused. You reach down, pressing your hand in his hair as you start carding through his white locks. 
“What were you like as a baby, Toru?” 
“Horrible. Came out super late, cried all the time, total sweet tooth.” 
“I asked about you as a baby. Not now.” 
He rolls his eyes, sitting up to ruffle your hair. You shrug him off before leaning your head against his shoulder, his hand placed directly on your stomach, which he does almost every time he’s near you. You can hear his stupid voice in your head. She has to know I’m here too, not just you mama. 
“Shut up. Stop bad mouthing me in front of our child. That’s not a healthy parenting model.” 
“You screamed my head off for throwing out your precious kikufuku in front of Megumi last week. Healthy parenting model, my ass.” 
“Well some things are just unforgivable, sweetheart. And he’s a big boy now.” 
He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head, before pressing his cheek against your hair. “What was my baby like as a baby?” 
“I came out super early. I think they had to stay in the hospital for a few days because I was too weak. But after that, I think it was okay.” 
He leans over, pressing himself harder into your frame as he squeezes. You place your hands in his hair again, running through as you wait for him to talk. He’s thinking - too hard. 
You understood that a baby, a real one - not grown up and super self sufficient like Tsumiki and Megumi were - was anxiety inducing. But ever since you had told him, Satoru was stressed out, more than usual. Shoulders always tensed up, freaking out over painting the room or assembling a crib, or picking a godfather. 
“Love?” 
“Yes, Satoru?” 
“Do you think…the baby will be scared of me?” 
“Because you’re the strongest? Of course, not. Megumi and Tsumiki always thought it was so cool when they were little, smacking their tiny little hands against it while laughing.” 
“No, no. Not because of that.” 
You push your palms against his cheeks, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck. He looks into your eyes, the look shy. His eyes waver down to his arms, littered in scars, before looking back up. And now you get it. He’s talking about his scars. 
They’ve faded over the years, from back when Megumi was still possessed by Sukuna. You remember when they were angry, red and fresh, when he came home, and nearly made your heart drop out of your chest. 
And when it was well and over, you had kissed them hundreds and hundreds of times over until Satoru knew, with full confidence, that you love him. And Megumi had apologized, millions of times before he understood that none of it was his fault. You love Satoru. Scars and all. And you love Megumi. Possession and all. 
“Satoru. You know that we all-” 
He shrugs you off, the look exasperated. 
“I know you guys love me. But I’m talking about the baby. There’s just so many of them and they’ve faded a good amount but-” 
You lean over and press your lips to his, kissing him softly before you let go. You can feel him deflate at the sensation, giving you the smallest of smiles when you pull apart. 
“You guys have father-daughter telepathy. She could never be scared of you.” 
You see the smile spread across his face as he rolls his eyes at you, shaking you at the shoulders. 
“So you agree? She’s a girl.” 
“No. He is most definitely a boy. But I’ll let you have it for tonight.” 
“You’re so generous.” 
“I know Satoru, it’s one of the best things about me.” 
You feel him cup his hands around your face as he presses a light kiss to your nose. 
“Yes. It is.” 
“I was being sarcastic.” 
“I know that, love. But I wasn’t.” 
Unlike Satoru and much more like you, your baby is born early. What you thought was a routine ultrasound turned into an emergency c-section and your little baby coming a little earlier than you had planned. 
That was hours ago. Satoru has been watching you, your chest heaving up and down as you sleep, since they moved to this room. Your daughter, because Satoru was right, was down the hall in the NICU, in a tiny little plastic incubator. With Megumi and Tsumiki. 
This day had already been too hard for Satoru. And it wasn’t even over yet. Watching you get pushed onto a table, your baby coming out and not crying, finding out it was a girl but you weren’t even conscious enough for him to stick it to you, having to pick who to spend his time with. 
He picked you. Because Megumi promised that he’d watch her there, make sure she wasn’t alone. He knows how much it meant to the two of you to get to meet her together so he’ll wait. I mean, that is his little sister and all, he doesn’t mind watching her. After Satoru agreed, he couldn’t help but smile at Megumi, literally sprinting down the hall to meet her where Tsumiki was waiting. 
He watches you shuffle in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open. He nearly knocks the table as he stands up, placing his hands on your arms as you wake up. 
“Satoru.”
“Love, oh my god, I was waiting for you. To wake up, I mean. Are-are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do you want me to get anything?” 
He watches your eyes pinch shut as you raise your hand, clamping it right across his mouth. Your little raspy voice breaks out and he can feel the tears streaming down his eyes at the sound of it. 
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” 
He can’t help but laugh, the tears still streaming down. God, he loves you. Bedridden and still giving him fucking attitude. You’re okay and sassing him around and he loves you. 
He watches the smile spread across your face as you keep your hand there, now wiping his tears off. You look around the room, the crib still neatly made. 
“Wait, where’s-” 
“Down the hall. Megumi’s there with her.” 
“Her? It’s a girl?” 
You can feel the pride bustling in your chest, the tears now filling in your eyes. She’s a girl. Your tiny little baby that you were carrying for the past months was a girl. You can buy her little dresses and teach Satoru how to braid her hair and-
“Told you so.” 
“Shut the fuck up. I know you’re not sticking it to me while I’m literally in a hospital bed. Need I remind you, that you did this to me.” 
“How did I do this to you?” 
“You knocked me up!” 
You both laugh as Satoru helps you up into the wheelchair, pushing you both down the hallway to where she was. 
“You see her yet? Is she cute?”
“No, it’s only been a few hours. I wanted to see her together.” 
He swings the door open, pushing you to the front into the room. You can see Megumi seated right next to the little box, his hand inside with Tsumiki watching from the other side, her eyes focused on the crib. 
But you don’t take notice of your baby first. What you notice first is the shirts Megumi and Tsumiki are wearing, matching pink that say “big brother” and “big sister.” 
“Satoru. Don’t tell me you guilt tripped them into wearing the shirts.” 
They both run over at the sound of your voice, pressing you into a hug. You reach forward, resting both of your hands in their hair as they help you up, holding you steady in the air and running their eyes over you to make sure you’re okay. 
Satoru had bought the five of you matching shirts to wear when the baby was going to be discharged. And they were corny as fuck. With dad, mom, big sister, big brother, and baby written on them. Megumi said he was going to burn his in a fire. You and Tsumiki hid yours somewhere in the basement, pretending you lost them. Satoru found them in five minutes. But here they are, wearing them. 
“You don’t have to wear those. I’m sure he pulled the whole, my wife is dying, my baby is sick but-” 
“I didn’t ask them to wear those. At least not today.” 
You look over to find Satoru smirking, worst than he ever as before, at Megumi especially, as he starts ruffling his hair, cooing over how cute he was. 
“Just, shut up about it. I thought it would make your depressed ass laugh.” 
“Toru, quit bugging him.” 
You press a kiss to Megumi’s cheek before Satoru crushes him in a hug. He’s always been your sweet boy. 
You and Satoru slowly shuffle over to the little box, sticking your hands in to hold hers. Her eyes are pinched shut, a tuft of dark hair at the top of her head. You can feel the tears rising in your eyes, quickly glancing over to see Satoru crying too. Megumi and Tsumiki are on the other side, directly across, sweet smiles pressed on their faces.   
“Dark hair, Toru.” 
“Just like her mom.” 
You both can’t help but stare at her, rustling around in the little crib. But what catches your eye is the dark patch of red on her left eye, instinctively reaching over to touch it. 
“Megumi. What happened?” 
“We think it might be a scar or something. The doctors said she’s okay though, it doesn’t hurt her or anything.” 
You immediately crane her head over to Satoru, whose switched spots with you and is now softly pressing his fingers over the skin. You lean over, whispering in his ear as you both watch her. 
“Think she looks scary with her scar, Satoru?” 
“What the hell are you talking about? She’s perfect.” 
“You guys match. A scar for her and a scar for you.” 
He looks over and you watch the realization spread across his face as he understands what you’re getting at. He gives you a sweet look before pressing one the softest kisses to the top of your hair. He’s crying even harder now, his entire frame shaking. Fucking sap. 
She curls her hands into Satoru’s, squeezing his pinkie finger. 
“What the hell, Toru? She didn’t do that for me.” 
“It’s father-daughter telepathy, love. You wouldn’t get it.” 
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thisismeracing · 1 month
Text
More than friends | LH44
―Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader ―Warnings: curse words, mentions of food, and typos; ―Summary: You're friends with Lewis, but fans don't buy the "just friends" discourse - for them, you and Lewis make the most powerful couple, even if you're not famous. And maybe they're right, maybe you're supposed to be more than friends. (based on this request).
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▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
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yourusername
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liked by yourbestie, lewishamilton, and others
yourusername went for coffee/reading with the bestie, but of course, we ended up yapping about everything and only reading two sentences 😁
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angryschumacher they just like me and my bestie except they’re more cute and would make a great couple 👀
grandpierre can you imagine being bestie with lewis freaking hamilton?! 😭
leclerccrown what are you reading, yn?
⤷ yourusername crooked plows by itamar vieira junior! :)
yourbestie can I borrow those shoes for a date this weekend?? 🙏
lewishamilton worst matcha I’ve ever had 🤢
⤷ yourusername youre just not used to the flavors! It was deliciou
⤷ lewishamilton it probably was, but right before you added tons of sugar and what else 🥴
⤷ yourusername shut up 😡
⤷ lewishamilton I just don’t need extra sugar when you’re around, sweetie
⤷ tifosikimi am I sensing some flirting? 👁️🫦👁️
⤷ tiredtyres tifosikimi I don’t think so, me and my bestie banter like this but we consider each other siblings
harrietdirection her hair is so shiny, her skin is so glowy, she’s so humble and simple and sweet and pretty can lewis share her with the fandom pls
lewishamilton
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liked by georgerussell63, dualipa, and others
lewishamilton recharging for next weekend 💛
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likedbypierregasly this looks like such a romantic dump, the kind of dump one would post with…I dunno…their girlfriend 👀
biebertsunoda I wanna be her so bad
yourusername 💛
⤷ keepingupwf1 yeah bestie Im at a loss of words too
mickschumacher Angie is questioning me about play dates with roscoe!!
⤷ roscoelovescoco 😍 Is miss Angies too
⤷ yourusername how about tomorrow before media duty??
⤷ mickschumacher sounds great! 🤝
⤷ zhoulovers she’s roscoe’s mom, change my mind
elitebarzal oh to spend a weekend recharging beside lewis and roscoe 😭
zendaya 😍😍😍
yourusername
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liked by lilymhe, lewisfan, and others
yourusername productive Friday at work 🤓
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redsainz who choose these boots? I bet it was lewis
oconnected they're so powerful together, you can see bits and bits of the other in them 🩷
mickschumacher glad you enjoyed the haribo! 😌
⤷ yourusername my new fav candy!!! 😌
lewishamilton nice fit 😏
⤷ yourusername you like it? a friend set it up for me 😎
⤷ redsainz told you guys he was to one to piece it together!!!!
bonosmicrophone its the way mick, lily, alex, george, and so on constantly interact with her 🥹🥹
dollarsainz lewishamilton can I date her?
⤷ lewishamilton nah, she’s already taken
⤷ leclerccar WHAT?,mKVNWNCJSJJCJSD
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lewishamilton & yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others
lewishamilton guess we were always meant to be more ❤️
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yourusername fitting together like the perfect pair of legos 💘 you're forever my best friend, I love you
⤷ lewishamilton I love you forever
⤷ schumickey 😭forever😭my😭best😭friend😭
rizzhou most powerful paddock couple!
yukiyukiyuki everything about these pics gives wholesome heartdly in love vibe 🥹
charles_leclerc finally, guys!!!!! ❤️
georgerussell63 it was about time!
alex_albon lily is asking for another double date (please Yn don’t steal my girl 😭)
⤷ lilymhe too late, babes 😁
mercedesamgf1 😍😍 we’be been rooting for this since the beginning!
⤷ formulainchident even admin!!!!
scuderiaferrari Yn, we already have your special headphones and shirt ready! 🫵❤️
norrisrizz I want what they have, I wanna be her, I wanna be him, I wanna be their dog, I-
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────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! :D as usual, reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated. don't forget to let me know your thoughts!
If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘
▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.
taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids @khaylin27 @bernelflo @fakehappy27
©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.
― Reminder: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
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britishneonjello · 6 months
Text
Crowley had not looked Aziraphale in the eye since they had sat down. The world is doomed again, and the burning moment of the last time they spoke still lingers on both their lips. Neither of them speak.
Finally, Crowley, both defeated once again by the gravity of his heart and angry at his angel, runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
"1941," he hisses. Aziraphale's insides crumple like paper at the sound of his voice. Crowley continues.
"God, I love him," he quotes. Aziraphale shatters.
The angel jumps up from his seat as if he were on fire (he is). He's sweating and shaking suddenly, throat closing but not quickly enough.
"You read my diary?" Aziraphale feels the ground tilt and the Earth fall off its axis. That wasn't a part of the Plan. Crowley's profile was unreadable.
The demon stands slowly. His limbs drip towards the stilted ground and he breathes. He can't stop himself.
"I lo–" Crowley starts again. He is cut off.
"I–!"
He looks at him. Now it is Aziraphale who won't meet his gaze. It is taking quite literally everything to keep Crowley planted where he is. The sight of Aziraphale's tears always destroys him completely.
As always, the angel wrings his hands. His face is red, his rosy cheeks shiny. Crowley only catches glimpses of the galaxies in his eyes as he looks this way and that.
The angel steels himself. And then that's it. He almost chuckles at the timing of it, but he's so, so...relieved. Exhilarated. Happy.
"I love him, most ineffably," Aziraphale recites. They lock eyes.
Time wraps around itself. It's wimey like that. And suddenly Crowley is back in Eden, surrounded by peace and perfection and life. And for the first time in the history of the world, the Sun rises. And Crowley looks East.
Of course, atop the Wall, a figure. Slowly awash with molten gold from a star–his stars, his star–the figure stands nervous but sure, calm but curious, beautiful and divine. Aziraphale turns away from the horizon towards the garden. And Crowley falls.
He falls into Aziraphale's arms only to squeeze and pull and lift the angel as close as divinely possible. The warmth and strength of the soft arms that desperately grip him back seep into his bones.
Aziraphale presses his face hard into Crowley's neck, daring anyone at all to separate them ever again. He's sobbing audibly now, as Crowley continues his whispers of, "I love you, I love you, I love you," right into his ear. Aziraphale decides two arms are not enough, so he pulls his wings out of space and wraps them around their shoulders, too. He feels rather than sees inky black wings shelter around their waists.
"Please, do it again," the angel pulls back just enough to look his demon in the eye once more. Oh, Someone, they're both a mess. "Kiss me, again. Please, Crowley. My love. How I love you, so."
Crowley does.
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