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#they talk about how the bath they share is so comfortable for two people and it's driving people up a wall
worstloki · 3 months
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love the idea of the Avengers adding new members but being stingy about rooms so the OG Avengers each get their own but Bucky and Loki are forced to share one under the guise of it being 'healthy interaction'
#Bucky and Loki being friends but in a weird way and now Thor is concerned like 'i don't recognise my brother anymore T-T'#and Steve is grimacing and sighing like 'my chemical romance isn't that bad Thor you just have to acquire the taste'#Bucky and Loki bunking in a room together and people just forgot to give them a second bed but it's ok because they both sleep on the floor#they wake each other up from nightmares and when it's done/conscious they look at each other in slight alarm and just give '👍❓❗' '👍👍❓'#aggressive thumbs up before returning to bed still communicating with thumbs up like 'all good??' 'all good??' 'all good!' 'go sleep?!?'#they both are convinced that oily hair is a way to keep it healthy and dandruff free and like they're not WRONG bc it works for them#but people also hate listening to them corroborate such experiences with each other#like you can't deny their hair is healthy and silky when they wash up and get dressed for something. BUT. STOP TALKING LIKE THAT.#they talk about how the bath they share is so comfortable for two people and it's driving people up a wall#Natasha opens the door and sees Bucky in the dark propped against a wall looking half dead with earphones in#(he is watching a nature documentary Loki recommended)#they bond over times they were being controlled and/or suicidal in Tony's lab and Tony who was working nods along absently long used to it#Tony: ah yeah I have PTSD but im managing it okay for now with meds#Bucky and Loki: *making faces* boo 👎
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gi4hao · 1 month
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☆ SEVENTEEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A BAD DAY (hip hop unit)
— pure fluff! (some mentions of food) — VOCAL UNIT VERSION HERE
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— SEUNGCHEOL
• he lets you cry and cry and cry in his arms until you physically cannot produce any more tears
• his hands are softly stroking your back as he lets you vent about your day
• “i’m so sorry you had to go through all that baby” he tells you when you’re done, placing a kiss on top of your head as he lets you cuddle as close to him as you need to
• definitely tells you to let him take care of you that evening, because he wants your day to end on a better note
• and he 100% means it: he pampers you like royalty, giving you his undivided attention and nothing less
• you feel like taking a bath? you’ll have one with scented bubbles and candles. you feel like going for a walk to clear your head? he’ll go with you and hold you close the whole time.
— MINGYU
• so so so supportive
• the moment you get back home, he’s already waiting for you with his arms wide open, ready for you to collapse against his chest
• definitely listens to you rant about the people that upset you that day, all while cooking a hearty meal for the two of you
• i think some of his bubbliness would definitely rub off on you, and he’s kind of counting on that to make you feel better
• because it’s hard to stay upset when your boyfriend keeps peppering kisses all over your face, all while looking at you with the kindest eyes on earth
• he just wants you to be surrounded by happy things overall. whether it’s by showing you a cute puppy he saw on tiktok or sharing the latest gossips he got from the members, he thinks it’s important to take your mind off of whatever’s weighing you down
• and when you thank him for always being your happy place, his heart does a little jump that fills him with nothing but pure love
— WONWOO
• he’s probably already comforting you over text during the day. he hopes his little messages to check up on you can bring you a bit of comfort (they do)
• he makes sure to get home a little earlier to do some chores so that you don’t have to stress about that as well
• and yes he’ll definitely let you cuddle for as long as you want if that’s what you need when you come home
• he’ll even let you play with his hair if it helps you relieve the tension (which also benefits him because he gets to admire you up close, something he loves to do)
• the next day, he leaves a post-it note on your bathroom mirror for you to read when you wake up
• it’s something along the lines of “had to leave early but don’t forget i love you + there’s an iced coffee in the fridge and a muffin on the table <3”
— VERNON
• an amazing listener, for sure. no matter what kind of emotion you’re feeling, he’ll patiently listen for as long as needed
• but he’ll speak up if you start to talk in a self-deprecating way, reminding you of how amazing you are and how proud of you he is
• “i’m not letting these thoughts take up too much space in your brain” he tells you, handing you yet another tissue to wipe your nose with. “which is why i think the smartest thing to do tonight would be to watch a really, really dumb movie. what do you think?”
• you gladly accept, of course. because nothing can comfort you the way vernon and a silly movie can
• and that night isn’t like your usual movie night, when the two of you are just lazily slumped on the couch with random snacks on the table
• this time, he goes all in: pop-corn, a nice blanket to keep you both warm, his comfiest hoodie (for you to wear of course), and most importantly: he lets you pick the movie!
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fleuraimer · 5 months
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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.
wc: 1.6k
cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.
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Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…
They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.
Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe a few things.
Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).
They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.
One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.
Two, he loved to take care of her.
So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.
It was fucking perfect.
One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.
Like now.
The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.
So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).
———
Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.
As if anyone else could do what he does for her.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.
Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.
She needed a good cry.
“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”
She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).
Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.
Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).
The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?
Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.
She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.
Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.
“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.
Oh? She wanted to order him around?
“Please.”
Oh. Guess not.
“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.
She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.
“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”
“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.
How precious.
“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”
She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.
“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”
Y/N does not need to be told twice.
One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.
They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.
He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.
And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.
“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.
He gives her one, anyway.
“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.
“Huh?”
“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”
Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.
“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.
It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.
…Oh well.
So be it.
“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.
“Daddy’ll make it take.”
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kakushino · 7 months
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Be my Owner
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Demon pet! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader
Demons mated for life, sharing lifespan with their mates.
Tags: mild allusions to depression (reader), demon pet AU (domesticated demons), in heat, smut, nipple play, mating, dom-leaning bottom reader (i think???) Word count: 7,4k
Masterlist | My Pet Demon collab
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You knew you were not well mentally; the deep hole, where your heart should be, made itself known a long time ago. What you didn’t understand was the reason you… required a pet. And it wasn’t even any pet - a dog would have sufficed, maybe - but your best friend gave you a fucking demon.
You didn’t know what you did to deserve your best friend but this was a bit… over the top. Especially now as you stared your new charge in the impossibly deep blue eyes. 
Giyuu was a serious-looking demon, long black hair a little tangled and dry, giving it a distinct spiky shape, cute dark blue horns poking out from his head. He also had dark eyebags, which was hardly surprising, given that he’d had to travel in the sun, which weakened demons a great amount. An overall gaunt appearance was what made your heart want to keep it - keep him.
Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers, though there was a movement about giving them rights by law. You supported that movement passively, but you would have to immerse yourself in it more, now that you owned a demon.
He’d been silent the entire time you and your best friend talked, not moving an inch, and he was still not saying anything when they left.
“So…” He perked up a little when you started to speak. “Uhm… When was the last time you ate?” 
Giyuu shifted on his feet, the first true response to anything that was said that day. His voice was a little raspy, though not overly deep, and it retained a soothing quality. “...three days ago.”
Your friend told you he needed to feed at least once a week, so to be safe, you had to get some meat for him. It would do you no good to starve him, what with his current appearance. “And what type of meat do you prefer?”
The question made him raise his eyebrows briefly, before they fell back into a neutral expression. It seemed not many people, if anyone at all, asked him that. “Salmon.”
You had some salmon filets in the freezer that you could let thaw in the sink for him. It was a curious choice, less… usual? You would think he’d go for more human-like meat, such as pork. Oh well, you would have to look up diet options for him. Your friend told you he was a mutt - a mixed type breed - so you would heed his preference to salmon as well.
You tried not to think how much you focused on feeding him right, when you yourself often skipped eating for days.
Your life with Giyuu settled into a new routine. 
You spread your couch for him for a few days until you could get him a true bed. He always seemed surprised by these little gestures of… human kindness you displayed for him.
The first night on the couch, he’d hardly moved from sleeping on his back; the second he was turned onto the side; by the time a week went by, he’d relaxed enough to snuggle close to the green and yellow bunny plushie you had given him.
You took to feeding him twice a week, which always made his eyebrows twitch before he dug in. Though you followed some advice you found on the demon diet, you tried to incorporate salmon as much as possible, so he could enjoy his favorite meat. You found out he was quite the messy eater, bringing a smile to your face whenever you had to gently wipe off the fish scales or other raw bits off of his cheeks.
Since his hair started to tame down a little from its tangled mess - though the baths he’d taken helped too - you thought the diet was a success.
You ordered some clothes for him. Most of them fit him, some were oversized, but all were made for comfort. Sweatpants, cotton shirts, one hoodie for when the weather became colder, some underwear and socks. You would take him shopping for a pair or two of shoes later, as he’d come bare-footed, as well as buying him more clothes that fit him properly - and also maybe jeans and a dress-shirt, for other occasions... What you received through mail would be enough for now.
The bed arrived. Your flat wasn’t that big, forcing you to put his bed in the living room corner instead of his own room. You tried to give him privacy, giving him several choices of different curtains and screens - of which he’d chosen a sliding-door type screen reminiscent of shoji doors.
Taking care of Giyuu gave you a strange satisfaction. Fulfilling his needs came to you like second nature, and you always pushed through your exhaustion to do things for him you would rarely do for yourself before he came into your life. 
You started to see merit in owning him when you actually went to take a shower after not showering for three days, thinking ‘I must be stinky to him’. You changed your sheets right after that and laid in your clean bed in a fresh set of clothes with your window open to let in the evening air. It was odd. You felt better somehow, despite the two basic actions taking up the rest of your energy.
Your eyes wandered to the door which led to the living room and wondered about Giyuu’s situation. At times it felt like the two of you were two sides of the same coin. Did either of you really have a purpose in life?
Did Giyuu truly deserve to have an owner like you - struggling with basic human needs?
Probably not.
But you were all he had.
With that depressing thought, you drifted off to sleep.
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Before you knew it, it was four months, nearly five, into your companionship arrangement. 
One thing you felt bad about was your hermit-type lifestyle. You worked from home as an editor, which was good for your mental health, and also for your new pet, as you were always home in case something happened. It had a bad side too though - like staying cooped up in the apartment forever. 
While you worked, you allowed Giyuu to stay in your room with you, setting up a small corner for him with a large beanbag, and a few books to read after you confirmed he was literate. At the moment, he was spread out over the chair on his back, reading through Game of Thrones for the nth time. He really seemed to like that book, perhaps you should get the next one in the series, though you never got to finish the first one, courtesy of your limited energy levels throughout the day.
Or perhaps - your thoughts flitted to the Demon Rights movement - you could see if there was a meet up somewhere nearby, so he could interact with other local demons. You remembered they sometimes did those…
You opened up your social media, the one you recently created solely to interact with the local DR group, and checked the upcoming events. It took a little bit of scrolling but you saw one that suited you. 
The Night Parade A.K.A. DR’s 13th Meet up!
It was in a park about 30 minutes away by foot, and the start was around an hour after sunset, which was perfect. The description encouraged people to bring their demon companions for much-needed socializing while the humans could see what others do to help their demons acclimate in homes and other living arrangements. 
The last sentence made your heart plummet down to your stomach.
A kindly reminder that demon companions are required to wear collars by law.
There was a link to their website which offered sustainable collars which didn’t hurt the demons while wearing it.
You saved your work and looked up more information about demon collars, immersing yourself in the vast world that was the Demon Rights site and other sources. Once you deemed yourself at least partially educated on the issue, you went back to the DR e-shop and scoured it for one you thought would be okay for your demon companion.
“Giyuu?” you glanced at him, the book he had been holding in his hand was bookmarked and closed, laying on the table you placed next to his beanbag. He’d been reading not a second ago, how was he so fast? At least he didn’t stand up as he had been prone to do the first month whenever you addressed him.
At times you wondered if he was mute, but then he surprised you by speaking with you in a low voice - which happened more often as he got comfortable. “Yes, owner?” 
“How do you feel about going outside?”
His eyebrows twitched, which you had come to interpret as excitement. You liked to think you were getting better at reading him. “Whatever you want to do, we will do, owner.”
You nodded. “Well… To go outside, you need to… wear a collar,” you said softly, looking at him and gauging his reaction. He gave away nothing. “And, well, I did my research and there were multiple options and I found one that might-” You beckoned him closer and he practically shot to your side, very nearly startling you. “Oh! Yes, do you think this one would be alright?” You scooted a little to the side with your chair, letting him lean in to see the screen. 
It was a relatively plain collar, with nichirin cord hidden in the fabric, and though the locking mechanism was very simple it abided by the law standards. There were no wisteria poison pouches nor electric shock add-ons as your ‘normal’ ‘pet shop’ might offer. The e-shop offered several color options as well.
You watched him as he read the specifications. Was it too much? Maybe you should get just a plain one for other ‘pets’ and try to disguise it as a proper collar. 
Still… it felt wrong to put a collar on Giyuu, as if he were an animal. The thought of degrading him like this made your stomach churn.
“Can I-?”
“Go ahead.”
He took the mouse and clicked on the wine red option. Giyuu stood up straight and looked at you blankly, waiting for you to understand what he meant.
Your eyes flitted between him and the screen, raising your eyebrow. “You want this one?” 
He nodded.
You supposed it was better than choosing a color for him. You quickly added it to the cart, along with a… leash. The whole situation made you feel icky.
Giyuu hovered over you for a moment longer, before you waved him off to his seat with a mutter of ‘thanks’ over your shoulder.
A deep sigh left you, and though you didn’t see, he picked up on it, observing you for a long moment.
At times he wondered if it was him who burdened you so. He knew however that the problem lay deeper inside of you than just a pet like him. He could smell it on you, the lack of certain hormones that fueled human happiness. 
And just as he could smell the lack of them, he could recognize when their levels spiked up - like when you watched him reading in his little corner, or when you saw him dozing in his bed, or enjoying his meat. He also registered that you liked to see him grooming himself, like brushing his hair (rather wrestling it into a manageable mane) and putting oils onto his horns.
His horns, and hair, had been dried out for a long while, the previous shelter not doing much to help out his problems. 
Thanks to your tender care and change of diet, he saw his water marks returning too. The one on his chest was the first to appear, the dark blue standing out against his skin. You had yet to notice.
That was the thing he prided himself in. He was not a mutt, as most people assumed. His coloring was a little unusual but he was of the Urokodaki line, Tomioka branch of Water demons. Giyuu was probably one of the last pure blood demons there were, making him stronger than others - if fed properly. And you did. You listened to him and fed him a fish-based diet for his needs.
You were the first owner who asked him about his opinion and cared about it. And that was one single fact which would make him loyal to death to you. He would gladly wear a collar with your name on it, outside and inside, with pride. 
Because he was yours, body and soul.
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You had nearly forgotten about the event until your calendar gave you a notification. The package from the e-shop had arrived only two days after you ordered it, and you had yet to open it, leaving it to collect dust. The uncomfortable feeling returned. You very much did not want to put a collar on Giyuu, it had to be humiliating - for him - and the last thing you wanted to do was make him out to be some sort of beast he certainly was not.
“Uhm, so,” you started nervously. “We are going out today…”
Giyuu was looking down at you head tilted slightly, as you stood by a small package on the counter. He remained silent.
“I’m really sorry but uhm, by law you need to have a collar… when we go out,” you reminded him gently, fumbling with the package. “I didn’t want to do it but I really need to. I’m so, so sorry. I hate to do this,” you took a deep breath to calm down as you finally took the collar out. 
It appeared high quality, the color matching the picture you remembered exactly. There was a complementary tag with Giyuu’s name and your phone number engraved on it; though very standard, it still made you upset. 
You fumbled with the lock mechanism to undo it so you could slip it on him. Giyuu kindly lifted his hair up when you reached around his neck to fasten it. You tightened the strap only slightly so it wouldn't chafe, checking with your fingers between the material and his cool skin if it was loose enough; it was. 
Electric shocks ran down his spine when you finally touched him - for the first time. You ran a little warmer than he did, and that pleasant contrast against him made the contact all the more enticing. He could not help but close his eyes, content. 
“I’m really sorry, once again,” you mumbled, turning back to the box to take out the matching leash you ordered along with it, tears of frustration filling your eyes.
Giyuu finally said, “I don’t mind.”
His words made you freeze.
“I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.” 
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The walk to the park was dark, obviously, but you somehow didn’t fear the night with Giyuu by your side… on a leash.
I can wear it at home too, if you’d like, owner.
Why did his words not bother him at all? You were upset with yourself; did you really create an image of being possessive of him? Did he think you kept him at home because you didn’t want him to run?
The questions and emotions that followed kept swirling in your brain, even as Giyuu nearly breathed down your neck with his closeness despite giving him as much lead as you could. 
The park was closer than you thought. You weren’t the first to arrive, thank god, and you took a moment to admire the decorations, before you turned to Giyuu.
His horns gleamed in the soft light of the fairy lights that were put up by the organizers. His skin seemed to have a warm glow to it for the first time. Looking at him now, you could tell he became much healthier in your care and that made your heart squeeze. 
How cruel must his previous owners have been to him to reduce him into the wraith he had been when he came to you?
You shook your head and untucked the leash from his collar. Once on the event grounds, you were free to let the demon companions roam and socialize, and you did want Giyuu to have friends outside of you - if you could call yourself his friend at all.
You were his owner after all.
His dark blue eyes observed you for a moment, as if asking for permission or guidance.
“Giyuu, I want you to have fun with other demons here,” you told him softly, a complex mix of emotions stirring up your belly.
Giyuu could pick up on each and decipher them easily though - you were anxious, sad, yet your ‘happiness’ levels weren’t that low… It was a strange smell on you, especially with how you encouraged him to go ‘have fun’. 
But in the end, he strived to make you happy. If you wanted him to talk to others, he would do so.
You watched him walk away towards a group of demons further into the park. You had to tear your eyes away from him, lest you keep staring at him all evening. 
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Though he recognized some of the demons in the gathering, one in particular nearly made him pull a face. 
Shinobu.
The butterfly demon was a menace.
And she made herself known the second she spotted him.
“Oh my, if it isn’t Giyuu. I didn’t know shelters allowed mutts to roam the streets.”
He pressed his lips together in a tight line. Shinobu wasn’t blind, she saw he had a collar, and she knew, of course she knew, that he belonged to a human now. Yet she still chose to taunt him with these untrue things.
“I’m not a mutt,” he focused on the other false information she sprouted. He knew he looked different, but he was of purer blood than her, which she had yet to sense. His face mark had still not appeared either.
She grinned, “Keep telling yourself that and you might actually believe it. Where is the poor human who’s stuck with you?”
He tensed. He was not going to share anything about you with Shinobu of all people. 
“I bet the shelter had to pay them to take you so you would stop stinking up the place.”
“That’s not true,” he told her quietly, unwilling to make a scene and ruin your evening. For you will surely come running if you found him arguing with another demon.
“Not that you were worth much in the first place. Probably had to sweeten the deal somehow…”
Only your opinion of him mattered to him. He didn’t care about Shinobu’s grandstanding… but should she take your name into her mouth, he would surely not hold himself back.
“What, did you spread your legs for your owner to take you?”
“That is a false assumption, Miss Demon, and I would kindly suggest you shut up about things you know nothing about.”
Giyuu turned slightly towards you, not letting Shinobu out of his sight in case she tried something. His heart beat fast.
“Ara ara~ did I hit a nerve? My apologies~” Shinobu’s smile was empty of any emotion, yet it was obvious she felt she was right with her assumption. She checked her wrist as if she had a watch there. “It seems the time I had for you ran out. See ya~”
Watching Shinobu retreat brought Giyuu no satisfaction even as he stepped closer to you. He was tense, and he could smell your anger wafting off of you as well. 
Had you really come to his defense? He would not have let her talk badly about you, of course, but your presence and words warmed his heart. His chest feeling tight as the strong drumming of his pulse beckoned him to start a dance with you - one he was not sure he could finish just yet. Even so, his teeth ached with need.
His dark blue eyes finally met yours, an unknown emotion swirling in his stomach as he breathed in your scent. You were slowly calming down, shoulders relaxing. Oh, he felt he could purr when he realized it was his proximity that made it so, his face gaining a pleased flush hidden by the darkness of the night.
Giyuu stepped closer to you again, nearly leaning into you in a daze.
"Are you okay?" Your worried voice snapped him out of his trance.
You had defended him and now you were worried? Fuck. He wanted to show you he could protect you too, that he could care for you too, that he could provide for you too… 
"I am. I apologize for ruining your evening, owner," he tried to infuse as much of his devotion as he could into his voice, though it was not enough. It would never be enough. His brain whirled with thoughts of how he could show you how he felt for you.
You rushed to reassure him otherwise, making one of the parts inside him preen. “You didn’t ruin anything, Giyuu… What that demon said was uncalled for. If I knew who her… owner was, I’d have a talk with them.”
The situation truly made you mad. Giyuu might not have been as aware of her accusation, but you’d looked up everything the Demon Rights movement protested and felt sick at what you found. 
Demon prostitution.
Forced, of course.
You were glad he had been in the bath at the time, because your reaction had been so visible and uncontrolled you had to walk outside for a minute to breathe. 
The thought of you forcing Giyuu into that kind of thing made you feel even sicker inside as you calmed down in the cool outside air.
Your demon pressed close to you so close you could feel his reassuring warmth, his torso nearly touching your arm. You breathed in his scent and blinked slowly, lulled by his presence. 
A black haired man caught your eye. No, not man, a demon - a demon with an electric collar, one you quickly scrolled past when you saw it in the e-shop. He seemed to be snarling at another demon, a very pale blonde one, before a human woman touched his arm, speaking to him with a smile. 
You recognized the woman from the DR group - she was one of the organizers, Mrs Kamado.
You observed the interaction between the black haired demon and the organizer, realizing that the electric collar was needed for him. He seemed to have selective hearing and it was obvious that she didn’t use it heavily at all, choosing to talk him down instead… which seemed to be working.
“His name is Muzan.” 
You turned to the young man standing next to you. He had a scar on his forehead, his eyes and hair a dark color with shades of red gleaming through when the light hit him just right. “Sorry?”
“The demon is Muzan, he’s an old coot and a bit of a brat but he isn’t that bad,” he explained with a smile. “Oh, sorry. I’m Kamado Tanjiro, my parents are the ones who organized this.”
“It’s nice to meet you. My name is [Name],” you introduced yourself, fully focusing on him.
A click coming from behind you made your head snap around. Giyuu was standing there, looking away from you, seemingly uninterested in what was happening in front of him. You frowned in confusion, turning back to Tanjiro.
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Even with the hiccup at the start, you counted tonight as success. After your brief introduction to Tanjiro, who you learned was an University student at the Ubuyashiki University, he showed you around, guiding you through meeting many owners and demon companions throughout the night. You didn’t meet with the female demon who bothered Giyuu again, thankfully.
You dropped your keys into a bowl by the door with a tired sigh. All the socializing drained you.
You dropped Giyuu’s leash to take off your cross-body bag before you turned to him to take off his collar. You frowned, noticing the gleam of the metal lock seemed a bit dull compared to before.
No matter, you took off the leash and reached for the mechanism.
It did not budge.
You tried again, getting the same result.
“This is strange… Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to sit on your couch so you could see the collar properly in the light of your living room. 
The metal was scratched - badly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Was there a physical fight between Giyuu and the female demon before you noticed them? How had it gotten so busted up? 
You tried to open it again and again, your attempts getting a little desperate as you tried to find a new angle.
Tears of frustration filled your eyes.
You never wanted to make Giyuu wear it. How were you going to take it off of him? It must be so insulting, being degraded into a pet. 
Fuck, you fucked up.
Pale warm hands covered yours, halting your efforts. Your eyes met his, the impossibly deep blue of Giyuu’s soul stared back at you. There was no fear, no judgment. He was looking at you kindly, as if it was not your fault, as if he wanted to reassure you. 
Your throat clogged up with emotion.
“I do not mind, owner,” he said lowly. “I don’t mind keeping it on at home.” 
You pressed your lips together in an unhappy line. “I’m sorry, Giyuu…”
His fingers grabbed your hands in a loose hold and he brought them up to his lips, nuzzling the knuckles gently with closed eyes. “Do not be, owner. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You had nothing to be sorry for, because he had been the one to destroy the mechanism. You would have never allowed him to wear the collar at home, even if he asked. He had realized that while you were putting the collar onto him, and that’s why he did it.
It worked.
He smiled when you turned away from him.
After a shower, Giyuu laid in his bed, staring at the bunny you had given him when he first came to you. The pattern had reminded him of his old friend a little, but the scent had been yours, all yours. 
It was clear to him the bunny plushie had belonged to you before you gave it to him, even if you washed it before he received it.
Now months later, your scent was gone.
But he could easily imagine it as he hugged the bunny close to his chest. He could imagine it was your body against his, warming him; your scent, the one he breathed in today, that enveloped him in comfort and… something else.
There was a strange feeling in his gut that he ignored for the moment.
Would you hug him, if he asked for it? Would you scent the bunny plushie, if he asked for it? Would you become his bunny, if he asked for it?
He quickly backpedaled. 
His bunny?
He… quite liked that. You could be his bunny, and he would be your protector, as it should be.
The feeling in his belly spread into his chest, making him feel hot in his pajamas. Giyuu was confused as to what it could be, pondering on the issue as he snuggled the bunny even closer, imagining it was you.
What had happened differently today?
You gave him the collar, you went to the park, you walked back, you tried taking off the collar…
You touched him.
His hips bucked, making his eyes snap open. He was… humping the bunny unconsciously, thinking of you. 
Though Giyuu realized it was strange to do so, he continued, fantasy overtaking his mind as he closed his eyes again. Your body, pliable and warm under him; your voice, the pretty moans it could produce; your cunt, sopping wet about to be filled with his cu-
Oh fuck.
Giyuu realized what was happening.
He’d entered his heat.
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The morning came too early. 
Your clock read 10:36 AM when you groaned, knowing you won’t be able to sleep anymore. The least you could do was get up and do your hygiene, even if you didn’t feel that hungry for breakfast.
You tiptoed into the bathroom, the sight in the mirror nearly sending you back to bed. You had dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks puffy from sleep, and your hair messy. Nevertheless, you ran your hands through your hair to make it half-presentable, and brushed your teeth, checking your notifications on your phone. There was a friendship request on your social media from Tanjiro, which made you smile and quickly accept. 
By the time you were done with your teeth, you had already started up a conversation with him as he talked about the bakery his family owned. You promised to visit him, and the bakery, when you had the time.
The living room was dark, as it had been since you’d gotten Giyuu. You walked closer to check on him, the bit of light from your open bedroom door enough to see him by. 
He was snuggled with the plushie you’d given him. The cute sight brought a smile to your face, and you went to cover him back up with his blanket, when you noticed something odd. 
Giyuu was sweaty, his pajama shirt damp and his hair sticking to his face as he panted softly, noises of discontent leaving him as his brows furrowed.
You quickly stepped closer to him, sliding the shoji-like curtain along smoothly. You reached out to touch his forehead, worried.
Just as you felt the heat of his skin, his hand grabbed your wrist tightly. “Don’t,” he rasped out, his eyes opening a sliver, feverishly bright.
You frowned, “But Giyuu, you’re burning u-”
“You can’t-” he gasped when you pushed past his weak resistance and touched his sweaty forehead. Again, he tried to fight your hand on him. “You can’t touch me.” 
“What? Why can’t I?” you pulled back slightly, trying to respect his boundaries but also worried out of your mind, leaning over to look him in the eyes.
He let out a strangled sound, nearly crawling back in the bed away from you. His face was flushed a deep red as you reached for him again. “I’m in heat.” He pushed his bunny plushie against you, but you only set it aside and grabbed his wrist. “S-stop touching me, I- I can’t-” 
I can’t hold myself back, is what he wanted to say. Giyuu had wanted to say a lot of things before touching you properly. He had wanted to court you, to give you proper courting gifts and attention, to show you he could be a good mate. This unplanned heat triggered by your touch last night was throwing a stick into his plans. 
He wanted you, he needed you.
You were oblivious to his thoughts, worried out of your mind. “But isn’t the heat painful? Why don’t you take off your shirt?” You didn’t press forward but still gave him no room to escape. “I want to help you, Giyuu.”
Did you even know what you were saying? What your words were doing to him? His face flushed an even deeper red.
You misinterpreted his blush for embarrassment and your thoughts raced in circles. How could you make him more comfortable?
“Why don’t I take off my shirt too? Look,” you quickly discarded the oversized shirt you slept in, leaving you in your panties as you knelt in front of him on his bed. “Now your turn.”
Giyuu was stupefied, and pliable, as you sat him up and took off his shirt as well, making you gasp. His chest was half-covered with demon markings of deep blue imitating water in the way they flowed and centered - it was like an artist splashed him with color and left it to dry. 
Your fingers reached out to trace one such mark going over his heart, making him shiver. You glanced up at his face to check if he was alright.
Giyuu seemed to be in a trance, staring at your exposed chest. The sight made you blush as you finally realized the situation you were in.
“Can I touch you?” he asked roughly, his voice raspy.
“I- okay…” you assented in confusion.
Once he’d gained permission he nearly attacked your chest with a hunger previously unknown to you. His hands cupped your breasts and his hot tongue laved at the skin, quickly getting to one of your nipples to circle the areola. His lips closed around it, sucking it harshly, making you cry out in pain. 
“Stop!”
As if burned, Giyuu pulled back, saliva connecting your nipple and his glistening lips, a teary eyed expression on his face.
The sight hurt your heart, and you sighed, giving up. “Just be gentle, okay?”
He nodded and licked your nipple much more gently, staring you in the eyes the whole time, gauging your face for any discomfort.
There was none, the texture of his tongue sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You breathed out shakily, closing your eyes as you arched your back slightly, offering him more, urging him to continue.
Giyuu hummed against your flesh, making you shiver, his thumb stroking the unattended nipple softly. Your breath hitched, and you gripped his pajama pants tightly, the slight shift of the fabric giving him enough stimulation to moan. It reminded you that there was something more stiff than your nipples.
Your hand trailed up, cupping his hardness. He bucked his hips, moaning into your chest as you started to pump his shaft through the pants, wetness gathering at the tip.
Giyuu cursed under his breath, switching to the other nipple to give them equal attention with his gentle sucking, whining when you squeezed the tip of his cock a little, his teeth grazing your breast.
You very nearly whimpered when he did that. In retaliation the hand stroking his cock grabbed the hem of his pants instead, your other hand reaching inside to stroke his length unobscured. 
Giyuu had to pull back from your breast lest he bite down as he groaned through his teeth, resting his forehead on your collarbone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin while his thumbs continued to play with your nipples. He could hardly resist leaning more into you, rising to his knees and burying his head in your neck, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing all over you as your head fell back, giving him more access. 
He laved at your skin, kissing it, sucking on it, creating deep hickeys as he pleased, the sensation drawing low whines and moans from your throat.
Then, he bit down on your pulse point gently.
Your hold on his cock tightened, the next stroke rougher than before.
“Don-Don’t! I’m about to-!” You quickly let go. He groaned loudly, as if in pain when your hand retreated from his pants. “Please, I need-!”
Your face felt hot, his desperate state made you so turned on you didn’t know what to do with yourself, except squeeze your thighs together. “What do you need, Giyuu?”
He felt as if he wanted, no, needed to eat you up, as if you were prey and him a predator - as it should have been before demons turned into glorified pets. 
But the feeling was too other to be just hunger; it was also thirst, for the sweet sounds you made when he marked you up, for an even sweeter sound you would make when he bit you and claimed you as his own.
“T-turn over, owner. I need you,” he told you breathlessly, his voice gaining a raspier quality as he pawed at your hips, claws retracted. You’d told him you would help him, didn’t you? Well, he was asking for that help now.
The panties you wore were soaked, and you knew what exactly he wanted you to do. You knelt in front of him and took the panties off, obeying his request and turning around to offer yourself to him on your hands and knees.
There was the sound of fabric being ripped apart before his hand grabbed your ass, thumb digging in as he pulled your flesh back just enough to expose your pussy. “I’m sorry, I just- I just need you.”
Giyuu slid the tip of his cock between your pussy lips, gathering your juices and spreading his precum all over, before he finally started to push in. He let out a shaky, drawn out moan. 
The stretch burned slightly, and you could do nothing but grip the sheets under your hands and push back against him, wanting more. 
“Sh-shit-” He bottomed out, his length pushing against something that made your arms give out and you fell forward, your forearms now supporting your weight.
“Can’t help myself-” he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, a whine leaving his throat at the feeling. His hands held your hips in a bruising grip. 
Then, he set a rough and fast pace. He fucked you like a beast unleashed, like you were his fucktoy, his thrusts uncoordinated and sloppy - disharmonic, desperate. 
You clenched your eyes shut as fireworks sparked behind your eyelids as the heat built up between the two of you. Giyuu was near-painfully thick and long. Even inexperienced, his dick hit all the right places, drawing breathy moans past your lips quietly. 
He himself became non-verbal, panting and keening lowly as he tried to chase his ecstasy. He leaned forward, his right arm supporting his weight just over your shoulder, left hand snaking around to stroke your puffy clit in tight circles, completely out of rhythm with his thrusts. His lips placed open mouthed kisses on your shoulders, nibbling on the flesh and sucking hickeys, staking his claim as the knot in your belly tightened.
Then, near the height of your pleasure, you felt a pinch at the junction of your shoulder and neck. 
As if triggered, your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, making you quiver in Giyuu's tight embrace, even as he still rocked his hips against yours in frantic tight circles, keening against the bite in your shoulder. Each thrust inside sent another wave of pleasure, until you did not know when one ended and another began. You could hardly form a thought, only sounds you vaguely recognized as yours left your throat.
Warmth spilled inside of you after an erratic series of rough thrusts, his arms hugging you tightly, putting his whole weight on you.
The slight pain in your shoulder faded as Giyuu pulled back to lick the bite gently. His half-lidded eyes stared as his saliva closed the punctures, slightly discolored flesh covering the mating bite mark.
Your eyes felt heavy and you were tired, but his cock was still hard even after finishing…
"Can- can I-?" 
You closed your eyes. "Mhm, if it'll make you feel better…"
His arms let up a little, laying his forehead between your shoulder blades. "You're tired…" 
There was no use denying it. "Yes. But, doesn't it hurt?" You rolled your hips experimentally; his hands gripped your body tighter as if to stop you.
"We can stay like this… I don't mind," he said, his cock twitching. Giyuu rolled you both onto your sides, staying inside. The movement made your inner muscles spasm and he bucked his hips. "Fuck… perhaps, only a little…" 
In contrast to his pace before, he rocked into you gently and slowly, letting you feel every inch without overwhelming you.
"This okay?" he asked in a strained voice. You only hummed in response, enjoying the intimacy.
Giyuu spilled his seed twice more into you as you half-dozed in his warm embrace, letting out a high pitched whine once in a while at the overstimulation, yet he could not stop - not until you were overfilled and it was seeping out around his dick.
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You must have drifted off at some point, the next thing you remembered was Giyuu kissing your shoulder gently, muttering, “Mhm, good morning… or evening.” 
You sighed out, relaxing in the warmth of his embrace. “How you feelin’?”
“Perfectly fine, or at least a little better,” he whispered, nuzzling into you.
You were sore, and the stickiness of dried sweat and cum on you started to bother you quickly. You wanted a shower. 
You tapped his arm with your finger and made to move away from him.
“No, no, don’t move yet,” his voice was strained as his cock twitched inside of you. “I won’t be able to control myself-”
You smiled tiredly and arched your back a bit, pushing your ass against him.
“Ye-es, fuck-” His hips rutted forward, muttering “Yes, yes, yes-” like a mantra, his arms tightening around you as he chased his pleasure inside of you yet again, his and your cum from before enough lubrication for what he did.
Your muscles were sore but you let him do as he pleased, his moans and heavy breathing making you feel hot all over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish but you didn’t mind, his noises bringing you a delight of its own.
Your hand came up to caress his arms gently as he fucked you, a whine leaving his throat at the tender touch, the next few thrusts sloppier and more forceful before he slammed as deep as he could with a shaky groan. Heat filled you again as he came.
You smiled widely as he panted, pulling out and making his seed spill over your thighs.
His hold became looser as he pressed soft kisses on your back and shoulders. “Sorry…”
You hummed, “There is no need to apologize. I could use a shower though, you coming with me?”
“Yes.” Giyuu opened his arms as you stood up. You were grateful your floors weren’t covered by a carpet, so any splatters his semen would make could be mopped up. 
After a long hot shower, where he made sure to knead your muscles and wash your back for you gently, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, your tummy rumbling with hunger.
Perhaps Giyuu needed some meat too? 
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It was nearly two months later when you could attend another DR meetup (15th, you missed one during that time due to a deadline you nearly forgot). You’d kept in contact with Tanjiro, quickly becoming close friends as he complained about managing Muzan and you about ‘adulting’. 
You didn’t reveal the fact that you started sleeping with Giyuu. After that first night, it seemed as if a dam had broken, and he became clingy and needy for you nearly every chance he got, going as far as distracting you during work with neck kisses and warming your pussy with his cock. 
It was not all about the sex either, he started going with you when you went out to shop for groceries, no matter the time of the day, keeping close to you like a dark protector and glaring at anyone who dared to look at you wrong.
You thought it was strange but let it be. He wasn’t harming anyone so it was probably fine.
“If it isn’t [Name]!” Tanjiro greeted you with a hug, earning him a low hiss from Giyuu. Tanjiro offered him a handshake, which Giyuu took, but you could see the amount of effort he had to spend to not crush Tanjiro’s hand, making you laugh a little. It was cute how protective he was of you.
Muzan was arguing with Douma, the pale blond demon from last time, a few steps away from the Kamado family, while Nezuko tried to drag him back to the organizers. Douma was smiling as his own owner - a ginger-haired woman - hugged him from behind to pull him away. 
You spent a small while talking to each of the Kamado siblings, asking about school and such, when Muzan joined your little group.
He took one look at you and scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe you mated with that loser.”
Everything stopped. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”
He rolled his gleaming red eyes in annoyance. “Are you stupid? Your loser of a demon, you mated with him.” Muzan shook his head and crossed his arms, staring at you down his nose.
You could only blink a few times, slowly turning to Giyuu.
“I- what?”
Giyuu had an innocently impassive look on his face, as if nothing was wrong. You could see, however, with your trained eye that there was a bright blush adorning his ears and a drop of sweat disappearing under his collar. He remained silent.
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AN: I want to credit the idea for Muzan as a bratty demon of the Kamado family to @sunandflame because she was the first one who came up with it, among other ideas we brainstormed while talking about this at first.
I'm a bitch so there will be part 2 in the far future when I get the horny for it.
dividers made by the amazing @/benkeibear (I love you, Rhy)
2K notes · View notes
itsvelyria · 4 months
Text
"non-sexual acts of intimacy with the f1 boys"
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Charles Leclerc
being there for each other. after a bad race, you'll be right there in the garage waiting with open arms or his phone will be lit up with a bunch of messages from you. a bad day at work? he's running a bath with your favourite sandalwood bath salts and your fluffiest towel is hanging on the heated rack. he is one constant presence you can always count on to be there, to smile at you and tell you it's going to get better, and vice versa.
Carlos Sainz
he finds comfort in physical contact, that means his hands are either on your lower back guiding you through crowds, or on your thigh during midnight cuddles on the couch, or simply just interlaced with yours. his family and friends are used to him drifting away from them, weaving through people to drape his arms over your shoulders from behind in greeting. he likes the reminder that you are right there with him, grounding him.
Danny Ricciardo
he loves your mornings together. being an f1 driver doesn't get him a lot of days at home so when he does, he enjoys waking to daylight slipping through the cracks of the curtains and slipping out of bed to make coffee for two. the aroma wakes you up and when you pad into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes, he thinks he might be the luckiest man in the world to be able to witness it. oftentimes you two sit there in silence, just relishing in each other's presence and sharing a quiet moment.
George Russell
its the little things he brings back from every trip or every outing, the excuse of "it reminded me of you" rolling off his tongue. the chrysanthemums outside the flower shop he passed by, the strange pink shell he saw at the beach. he shows them to you with such pride, the tiny burst of happiness in his chest when you laugh and admire the present, turning it over in your hands. every present he gifts another reiteration of your significance in his life and just how often he thinks of you throughout the day. what could be more of an indication of love than that?
Lando Norris
children at heart, you two love teasing each other — his messy curls that are sticking up in all directions when he wakes or the light foam moustache on your upper lip from the cappuccino you just drank. but you never take it too far and he finds it easy to just be himself around you, to be able to laugh everything off. its the intimate level of comfort and understanding that shines through all your playful banter and jokes that makes him never want to leave your side.
Lewis Hamilton
he really loves hearing you talk, it's like music to his ears whenever you're telling him about the bus you missed or raving over your new favourite song. the man hangs onto your every word, letting them sink in as he gazes at you with lovestruck eyes. and he's always there with the perfect response — how to deal with a difficult client at work or just filing your words away in his album of you in his brain.
Max Verstappen
remembering the littlest most insignificant things about you. he got you a first print copy of your favourite book after 3 months together and since then, he's surprised you every so often at just how much he knows you. sometimes orders for you at cafes and restaurants because he knows exactly how you pick items on the menu. you once told him about how you hate cracked phone screens so he has a bunch of them in his drawer and changes them for you. the sight of him squinting while trying to line up your phone screen makes your heart swell with adoration.
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Text
The Scare (Alternate Ending)
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, torture, descriptions of blood n torture, comfort, simon in ghost mode, idk what else
Summary: No summary ;) have fun
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Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 
But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 
You. 
Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 
But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?
***
Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”
Simon shivered. 
And then he realised. 
Graves was coming for you.
***
You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 
You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 
Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.
You check your phone. 
Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.
There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 
You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 
Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.
The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 
1 kick…
2 kicks…
3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 
“That her?” The first man asks. 
“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.
You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 
One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”
He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.
They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 
Help me…
The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 
You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”
He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. The front door comes into view. They have no care whatsoever, with you hitting your head on the wall. Black dots appear in your vision, slowly taking you out of consciousness. 
***
Simon stepped into the apartment the two of you shared, praying he wasn’t too late. 
The apartment was silent. 
The first bad sign.
He walks towards your bedroom, the door wide open. 
The second bad sign. 
The bed was empty, your candle was still lit, and your book was closed on your bed. 
With no bookmark. 
The third bad sign. 
He was too late. He knew he was too late.
***
2 weeks. 
16 days. 
16 nights you slept. 
24 hours you counted every day.
16 days you slept uneasy. 
Counting down the minutes until Simon would finally find you. 
At least, you hoped he would. 
The men brought you to what seemed like an old warehouse, locking you up in a dark grey rooms. 4 grey walls stared back at you. One little cot in the corner of the room, on the opposite wall, a door. A door you were dragged through every day to be taken to the room you were tortured in every day. They always asked the same questions. 
And they were all about Simon. 
You said nothing, of course. How could you betray him like that? He protects you, you protect him. 
Even if it meant the bruises on your arms would keep coming, the cuts on your back wouldn’t stop bleeding, the grumbling in your stomach wouldn’t stop getting louder, and the pain would just grow. 
You were willing to take it all for him. He was worth it. 
You stare up at the grey ceiling above you, sighing as you lay on the cot, silently praying that wherever Simon is, he’s safe, he’s eaten, and he’s healthy. And he’s looking for you. 
You know he probably is. He loves you. He tells you all the time that you’re his whole world. 
But a part of you can’t help but think that he isn’t coming. You know it’s a lie, Simon would never leave you. Especially when you know he loves you. 
You silently pray. And pray. 
Until the grey fades away and the black of sleep takes over.
*** 
On the morning of the 17th day, you woke up to gunshots. You shivered. Gunshots always meant bad things. At least, that’s what Simon says. 
You stand on shaky legs before getting down, sitting with your knees to your chest. Footsteps make their way closer to your room. Your anxiety skyrockets. The door flies open. 
On instinct, you crawl backwards, in fear. A hand reaches out to you. 
“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry. 
“’s me, lovie! ’s me! ’s okay! You’re okay…’s jus’ me. ’s me, lovie…”
You know that voice. You know that accent. You know that way of not pronouncing ‘t’s. 
Simon. 
You peer your eyes open, to be met with a skull mask looking back at you. Acting on instinct, you throw your arms around him, letting out a loud sob of relief. His arms tighten, holding your body against him. He strokes your hair softly. 
“Prove it,” you whisper. 
“Prove what, lovie?” 
“Prove that you’re Simon…I can’t trust anyone right now…” you reply shakily. He nods, taking off his mask. “Si…” You shake your head. “Not enough…”
“You hate the smell of ketchup. You can’t stand vinegar in any of your food. You always light candles when you read. You forgive, but you never forget. You like chocolate and strawberry ice cream, but you can’t stand chocolate-covered strawberries. You love ‘The Rookie’, even though it’s inaccurate and it sucks. You need more?” he rambles. 
You giggle softly through the tears in your eyes, curling into him once more. 
“‘m here, ‘m here, I promise. ‘M not leavin’ you. Gonna take you home,” he smiles at you, still holding you against him. His eyes drift down to the bruises and the cuts and the dried blood on your arms. You notice his eyes, the soft glint in them gone, replaced by an angry look. He presses a finger into his ears. “Johnny, don’ spare any o’ them.”
You blink a few times to process his words but snuggle closer to him as he speaks to Johnny. He takes off his jacket, wrapping you in it. He holds you there for what seems like hours, though it’s merely 10 minutes. A sigh escapes his lips as he stands up, heading out of the room you’re both in. He keeps your head cradled against him, shielding you from the battle going on outside. 
He takes you onto a jet, a military one, you recognize. He sets you down on a seat, sitting next to you, holding onto you. “Simon…” his name escapes your lips as a whisper, your eyes starting to close again.
“Keep ‘em open, please. Lovie, I need t’ know you're still conscious. Please, keep ‘em open,” his free hand caresses your face. “Just a little longer, I promise.”
“Trying,” you respond. He smiles, continuing to play with my hair. “Hey Si?”
“Hmm?” He hums. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too, lovie.”
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milswrites · 2 months
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Hobbies Part 6.
~Azriel X Reader ~
Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?
Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Lil bit of fluff at the start and then nice and angsty
Y/N couldn’t sleep. She had tossed and turned for hours, trying to settle her swirling thoughts so she could rest but her attempt to sleep was fruitless. How could she sleep after having the most incredible night of her life? Azriel had blown away her expectations, doing more for her than anyone had ever done in her life. She didn’t even mind that he had rejected her invitation for him to come into her home. Azriel was a smart male, he most likely didn’t want to rush things and she most definitely did not want to scare him away.
But he had agreed to meeting again tomorrow and the thought of that alone was enough to flood her body with excitement. Hence her lack of ability to fall asleep. As she laid in her bed, she wondered if Azriel was in the same position as her. Wide awake in his bed reliving the perfect evening that the two had shared.
Ever since she had met Azriel it was obvious he was the most handsome male she had ever met. She never blamed him for his anger and pain that he took out on her, it was understandable after being dumped in an unfamiliar Court by those he called family.
Whilst she had no family of her own, having grown up an orphan in her Court, Y/N was sure she would react in the same way if she were in his shoes and so every time Azriel had snapped and shouted at her she reminded herself of this.
She wasn’t even meant to get as involved in this as she was. Yes Helion had asked her to keep an eye on him and make sure he was comfortable in the Court, but he hadn’t made her spend as much time with him as she ended up doing. No one could have predicted what had blossomed between the pair.
Deciding that she just wasn’t going to get any rest tonight, not with the memory of Azriel’s lips on hers still fresh in her mind, Y/N slipped from her bed and made her way to the room she had dedicated to sewing.
Sitting down with a contented sigh she held up the tunic she had been making for Azriel. A matching one to the cobalt blue dress she had made herself. She had begun making it after their talk while riding the horses, the blush at the thought of Azriel wearing something she had made stayed on her face the whole ride back to the city and refused to leave until she had arrived back at her home and decided to start working on something for him.
It wasn’t easy to produce, not with Y/N being unfamiliar with how to sew clothes for people with wings, but she had managed it (but not without many failed attempts). A few more hours tonight and it would be finished, leaving her able to present it to him tomorrow.
It took longer than expected, hands delicately sewing the silver thread into the intricate designs of the Illyrian tattoos she had spent hours studying the drawings of from books about Illyria in Helion’s library. The sun had long risen when Y/N finally finished the piece, a golden glow settled in the room, sparkling against the metallic sheen of the thread like stars twinkling in the night sky.
Now complete, Y/N lovingly wrapped the tunic in a black paper before securing the packing with a dark blue velvet bow, reminiscent of the Night Court colours Azriel always wore.
Not wanting to wait any longer before seeing the male, she bathed hurriedly and dressed once more in the now matching dress to the tunic she had made Azriel. Gathering the gift in one arm and the bag of painting supplies she had put together earlier for the days activity in the other hand.
~~~~~
Y/N rushed to Azriel’s flat, now very familiar with the route between their two residences having walked there plenty of times.
Once she reached the building he resides in, Y/N stopped outside for a moment to compose herself, butterflies dancing in her stomach. She allowed her uneven breathing from practically running here to return to normal, knowing Azriel would likely find away to tease her for her flustered state.
Once Y/N had waited long enough that she was sure there was no way Azriel could call her out on her desperation to see him, Y/N entered the building and made her way to his door, placing the bag of paints down and knocking to alert him of her presence.
Her attention goes to the crack at the bottom of the door where his mischievous shadows usually peak out in curiosity whenever she turns up here. There was no movement this time. However, it wasn’t uncommon for Azriel to take a while answering the door, Y/N could have sworn that one time she had knocked he had been out and crawled through his window upon his return before answering the door. Or at least that’s what she had inferred from the muffled bang that sounded from somewhere in the flat and the heavy panting he had been doing.
Y/N knocked once more in hope that he would hear it but there was no answer. Perhaps he had gone to the market. His cupboards were bare when she had been in the flat with him yesterday, having used some items for their baking. Deciding to wait for him to return Y/N sat down in the corridor, legs stretched out facing his door.
Unsure of how much time had passed since she sat on the ground, Y/N looked to find something to cure her growing boredom as she waited for the Illyrian to turn up and so she pulled out the paints and a canvas from her bag, electing to pass the time through painting until Azriel arrived.
It took a while for her to decide what to paint, having found she now had plenty of inspiration after the past few weeks she had spent with the shadow singer. Finally Y/N decided upon painting the view from the sky last night, a constant reminder of the promise made between the two of them. The promise to travel the world together.
Tongue between her teeth Y/N did her best to accurately represent what she saw last night. Her memory of the view slightly blurred as most of her focus had been on the male whose arms she had been wrapped in. The painting was a swirl of black and blue skies, spattered with glowing stars, the bottom depicting the illuminated city, Y/N trying her best to paint the intricate architecture of the day court buildings.
It wasn’t long before her painting was pretty much complete and yet there was still no sign of Azriel. Perhaps he was at the training ground? Packing up the paints, Y/N rested her artwork against his door to allow for it to dry before leaving the bag of supplies next to it, trusting that no one would take it.
Y/N grabbed the gift she had made from the floor and stood. She would surprise Azriel at the training ground. She would give him the gift there and chide him for being late and forgetting he had planned something with her.
Butterflies growing once more at the anticipation of seeing him, Y/N hurried to the grounds where she hoped Azriel would be. There was no frustration growing in Y/N at his absence from the flat, instead there was just the excitement of seeing him train. There’s something about seeing him in his element that she couldn’t help but be attracted to, and she would never pass on the opportunity to stare at his muscled figure as he worked. Especially not now she could appreciate it openly.
Arriving at the training grounds Y/N was disappointed by the fact that he wasn’t there. The only people training in the arena being some of Helion’s army that she vaguely recognised the faces of.
Disheartened Y/N turned to leave, wondering if she should check the gardens. It’s likely he could have gone there to clear up the mess of the picnic the two of them had forgotten to clear away last night, distracted by the intoxicating presence of each other.
As she began walking away from the grounds Y/N was stopped by the calling of her name. Hope growing in her chest she whipped around, eyes scanning for Azriel, only to be met with one of the soldiers, who had been training, jogging towards her. “Y/N right?” He asked as she attempted to put a smile on her face in greeting as she nodded at him, “Helion’s been looking for you! He wanted to meet.”
“Ah ok. Thank you!” She tried to sound appreciative but it came out more depressed than she had planned. Y/N supposed if she went and met with Helion then it may give Azriel time to return from wherever he was. Gift still in hand and now feeling exhaustion creep in from her lack of sleep and rushed trailing around, she made her way to the palace.
~~~~~
“Y/N you are looking as divine as always” Helion charmed as he kissed her hand upon entering his office. “Been doing some shopping?” He asked curiously, eyes locked on the gift being supported in her other arm.
“What? Oh yeah, just a bit of shopping because I haven’t been able to find Azriel today.” Y/N lied, not quite ready to share what was growing between her and Azriel with Helion yet. She was sure he’d be happy for her, having tried to set her up with numerous people over the years, yet Y/N was still anxious that whatever her and Azriel’s relationship was it didn’t fall under her workplace guidelines.
“And that’s exactly why you’re here!” Helion said as he took Y/N’s free hand and led her over to the sofa in his office where she placed the gift down next to her as she sat, confused as to why he would want to talk about Azriel with her. Maybe they hadn’t been as discrete as she thought.
“What about Azriel?” She asked as casually as she could, trying to hide her growing anxiety.
“Oh well he’s gone now so it’s time to reassign you. Get back to your other jobs now the time has freed up again, I thought you could start by going to the outer village and - …Y/N are you ok?” Helion trailed off noticing how her eyes had suddenly widened and her breath caught in her throat.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” She asked in disbelief, doing her best to dampen the betrayal she was feeling not wanting it to show on her face. She knew that one day he’d eventually have to return to the Night Court but she assumed he would have said goodbye. That they would have planned some form of communication between them and promised to visit each other.
“Rhysand sent a message this morning, said the shadow singer left last night…What’s wrong Y/N?” He tentatively asked, a comforting hand resting on her shoulder.
“I’m fine!” She said a little too quickly. Helion was her friend but the last thing she wanted was for him to be pressing her about this, especially when she felt as though she was about to burst into tears, “Just surprised he was gone that’s all…Now what was the job you needed doing?”
Helion didn’t buy it, Y/N could tell that much. She knew the man cared for her. He had always supported her and been a good friend whenever she needed someone, even helping her by giving her the job she has now. But if she had to look at his concerned face for another minute then she definitely would start sobbing. As if sensing this he continued with describing Y/N’s next task, every once in a while flicking his worried eyes to her watery ones.
Once this was done, Y/N was quick to jump onto her feet, grabbing the gift which now felt much heavier in her arms than it had when she walked into the room.
Helion took her in once more, eyes raking over her dress, realisation crossing his face before asking, “That’s a pretty dress Y/N, did you make that?”
It now hurt for her to even look at the item of clothing she wore, instead she let her eyes drift around the room, looking anywhere else than the clothing that reminded her painfully of the man who was now gone.
“Yes. Thought I’d pick up sewing again.” She replied bluntly, struggling to hold the tears at bay.
“It’s an unusual colour,” Helion pressed, “not like what you normally wear.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t suit me.” With that Y/N left his office finishing the conversation, afraid of what he was going to say next.
As she raced through the corridors, frantically searching for the nearest exit, Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that were now streaming down her face and fogging her vision. He was gone. Azriel had left without even saying goodbye.
He had returned to his home, the place he had so badly wanted to return to. Y/N couldn’t stop the horrible thoughts that flooded her brain and pierced her heart. Perhaps all she had ever been to Azriel was a distraction. Something to keep him busy until he could get back to his normal life. Maybe the kiss was born from his pity for the lonely Day Court girl who had forced her way into his life against his will.
She sobbed loudly, gripping the led-weight box in both her arms and drawing it tightly to her chest. Azriel was gone.
Part 7
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: A little bit from Y/N’s perspective to rip your hearts out :(
Taglist:
@minnieoo @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001 @amara-moonlight @aunicornmademedoit @spideytingley @iamjimintrash @one-big-fangirl @tsunami-of-tears
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calisources · 6 months
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ROYAL ROMANCE AND SPICE PART TWO. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance
this is part two. part one can be found here. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.
actions and scenarios. add +reverse for the opposite scenario.
(play pretend): our muses have to pretend to be married or betrothed to be allowed in the same room together.
(one bed): while on the run, our muses must share a bed.
(courtly love): one muse is a knight at the service of the other muse, and they have courtly love behavior.
(it can never be): one muse is married while the other is a knight not allowed to be married. Theirs is an impossible romance.
(coronation): receiver is crowned king/queen, sender is watching closely. 
(succession): the unlikely heir, receiver is crowned heir to the realm while sender, their fiance/lover watches.
(where our hands touch): our muses hands touch accidentally causing them to pause mid conversation.
(do not strike): sender is about to slap receiver for an offense but receiver catches sender’s hand, bringing them close.
(am i not enough): receiver finds out sender has a mistress/lover.
(i am not taken): sender questions receiver’s relationship with someone, receiver informs them said someone is their relative, to sender’s delight.
(yo-ho a pirate’s life): sender is a pirate and receiver finds themselves on their ship.
(bridal style): receiver is injured and so, sender picks them up to avoid further injury.
(your coat is warmer): sender is cold or underdressed and receiver places their coat on their shoulders.
(sworn enemies as lovers): despite being sworn enemies, our muses pretend to be lovers/or marry to join forces against a bigger enemy.
(the faints): sender faints/trips and receiver is there to catch them.
(in the rain): our muses are caught in the midst of rain and seek refuge while it passes. They are alone.
(bath): receiver is taking a bath and the sender appears in the room, taking in the suggestive view.
(masquerade): at a ball, people are encouraged to dance. Sender and receiver do not know one another and dance under the guise of strangers.
(masquerade for us): sender and receiver know each other and play pretend during the night with their masks on.
(like a shoe): sender helps the receiver with their shoes, their hand lingers on the receiver's ankle.
(through the mirror): sender asks receive to help them out of their dress, receiver takes their time with each lace.
(how it begins): our muses are encouraged to talk alone, hoping to find common ground for a marriage.
(bedding): sender and receiver were wed and now it’s their wedding night.
(the gods are our witness): receiver and sender fooling around, the desire grows with each day.
(their knight): receiver is a knight/prince who gives their cloak to a lady/princess to help her cover herself.
(victory tastes good): reunited, our muses have their first kiss after a war/battle.
(learn from me): sender is teaching receiver how to use a weapon and stands too close.
(marriage of inconvenience): sender and receiver are forced into a marriage that neither likes. Despite this, a spark is lit.
(in love and war): our muses are enemies, somehow, through forced proximity, they find comfort in each other.
(a kiss like medicine): sender is grieving and receiver is comforting them, in the midst of it all, sender kisses receiver.
(shut me up): during an argument, the sender forcefully kisses the receiver to shut them up.
(in your arms): continuation of the one bed trope, our muses wake up in the same bed, having drifted close and cuddle.
(it’s fate): sender and receiver are fated to be together and they meet, they can feel it in their souls.
(what is honor in the hands of love): despite not being wed, our muses sleep together in a night of thirst and love.
(mutual pining): sender and receiver are in love, tension keeps on growing but both are afraid of ruining what they already have.
(defend): sender hits someone to defend receiver’s honor.
(runaway wedding): our muses marry in secret.
Sentences and quotes. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.
What I want... the only thing I want has always been you.
She looks weak and delicate but you don't know how brave she is. She's the bravest woman in all the three realms. 
After I met you, my life has purpose. I don't know what my life would be like without you.
I can deal with him trampling me underneath his feet .. but I can't bare to see him hurt you even a little bit.
You don't need scores of suitors. You need only one... if he's the right one. 
Which is why we're too young to realize certain things are impossible.
The very essence of romance is uncertainty. 
But she doesn't like him. I thought she didn't like him.
. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear.”I know the truth now. You've figured out I'm falling in love with you and you're trying to make me stop by hurting me this way. Well it won't work.
You’re far too prickly tempered to be a mistress. You’re far better suited as a wife.
I want to fill every part of you, breathe the air from your lungs and leave my handprints on your soul.
When my mother-in-law visits, the mice throw themselves at the cat, begging to be eaten.
Every word you have ever uttered, is engraved upon my heart.”
. . . if you can't see the good man he is, you need to unscrew them eyeballs of yours and try on a different pair.
The man irritated her just like a rash.
I’ve no memory of how it feels to be devoid of the craving. But you must know what you do. 
If I choose to make a darling of you, there is nothing you can do about it.
"She was going away, but I detained her.
if i loved you any less i might be able to talk about it more
I'm asking you to tell Lady Cassandra about my good qualities as well as the bad ones.
Don’t mistake softness for weakness. Only a strong man can be soft with a woman.
I will make her mine.
It simply isn’t a woman’s nature to be silent for prolonged periods of time.
I was never infamous. In fact, I'm fairly standard as far as rakes go.
What do ladies wear beneath their riding trousers?
Count this as a mere taste, sweetheart, of all the pleasure I can give you. 
Shall we duel with our lips?
Are you saying that I normally look as if I'm tending sheep? With straw in my hair? As if I might yodel?
Your Grace, Are you trying to get me into your bed?
You don't have to kiss a lot of frogs to recognize a prince when you find one.
Thought you didn't like red hair.
The gown makes my mouth water, love.
Husband-hunting. Always a rousing sport. I suppose you go there dressed to kill.
It's just that I don't think friends tie friends to the bedpost.
I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me.
We are here to discuss your foolhardy behavior.
Masquerades are frivolous, scandalous—
Tonight, with these masks, ladies are allowed the freedom men have without during the entire year.
My body craves your touch. Every time I look at those lips, I want to kiss you senseless.
You’ve driven me to the brink of madness without laying a finger on me.
The young Miss Stratton was a taste of heaven, there was no doubt… and he was going to savor every mouthful.
You claim I have your heart. And what if you have mine?
Courtly love is a dangerous game, and those who play for lust rather than love are often richly rewarded in scorn.
He won my hand from my father and my heart.
Some gentlemen are not afraid of an assertive lady.
I seem to remember you calling me a bastard for watching you bathe.
It's nearly winter, and the nights are long, mo duinne.
I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and I shall know that I've served ye well.
Don’t be afraid. There’s the two of us now.
You are the pineapple of Great Britain.
I like my pleasure guaranteed.
I was warned against the thrall of a maiden’s magic.
I cannot concentrate with you hovering, breathing, and telling me to concentrate.
You should not be here in my chambers. . .
It is you I cannot sacrifice. I burn… for you.
To Meet A Beautiful Woman Is One Thing, But To Meet Your Best Friend In The Most Beautiful Of Women Is Something Entirely Apart.
Yes, I Know. You Are Not The Marrying Type. Yet Have You Considered You Are Not The Type Women Wish To Marry?
I have been longing to do it again.
I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help a lady in distress?
I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so she does not have to marry me.
You have half a husband, Charlotte. Half a life. I cannot give you the future you deserve. Not a full me.
If what we have is half, then we shall make it the very best half. I love you. It is enough.
The next time we meet, it will be in our wedding day.
Marrying for love is like adding extra to your meal.
I do not want you to be married. I would grow to hate your wife.
Mark my words, Lila. You'll be mine in all ways you can imagine.
Would you cast aside your marriage for me? I would offer you the one thing marriage has never given you; pleasure.
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holysainz · 9 months
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hidden truths - mick schumacher
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pairing: mick schumacher x messi!reader
warnings: none
summary: you use summer vacation as an escape from the weight of your last name … mick happens to have the same idea
You meet him on the shores of Ibiza. He’s just another sun-soaked stranger as far as you’re concerned. With golden hair tousled by the ocean wind and eyes reflecting the azure blue of the sea, he is magnetic. But you’re just two beach-goers, simply Mick and Y/N, each escaping the intensity of your own lives for a slice of paradise.
You’re both incognito, tucked away behind faux names and tinted aviator sunglasses, your public identities folded away and locked away in your suitcases. He’s Mick, a charismatic car mechanic, and you’re Y/N, a football coach from Rosario. Nearly truth, except for the bits you both conveniently leave out.
Mick’s charm is undeniable. It’s clear that he’s comfortable around people … around you. It’s the easy jokes he cracks about the Spanish heat and the impromptu sandcastle-building competition he starts under the heat of the midday sun that endear him to you. There’s a spark, a connection. But just as a sun sets on Ibiza, the end of summer break looms in the horizon.
You decide to see it through, to ride this wave until the end.
One afternoon, as the sun dips low in the sky and bathes the beach in shades of gold, you’re locked in a lively debate about football. Your knowledge, the passion, it’s all too familiar.
“I swear, Y/N, you talk like you’ve been on the field with Messi himself,” he laughs, sipping on his sangria.
There’s a pause, a flicker in your eyes, as you reply. “Well, you talk about cars like you were born in one.”
You share a knowing look. The masks are cracking but not quite broken. Not yet. There’s fun to be had and more summer to enjoy.
The last week of your vacations approaches. A parting is imminent but Mick presents an offer, “I’m … going to a race next week. Formula 1, in Zandvoort. As a mechanic, of course,” he adds with a wink. “Would you like to come along?”
Your heart jumps. Attending a Grand Prix? The thought is electric. “I’d love to,” you say, despite the beating in your chest.
So you’re whisked off to the Netherlands, to the world of racing and roaring engines. In the paddock, Mick introduces you as a friend. There’s an energy here, a tangible excitement. It mirrors what you felt watching your father in Camp Nou and Parc des Princes and now DRV PNK stadium. It’s intoxicating. You understand why Mick loves it.
And then it happens.
“Lewis,” he greets a man passing by with a quick nod and beaming smile. You recognize him, even though your previous encounters were during award show red carpets and VIP parties you could barely remember the next morning. Lewis stops dead in his tracks as he spots you. “Y/N?” he questions, reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? I would’ve gotten you a pass if I knew you wanted to come.”
Your eyes widen as Mick watches the exchange. “You know each other” he asks, the words thick with confusion.
Lewis laughs, “Of course, she’s Leo’s daughter.”
The shock in Mick’s eyes doesn’t fade away.
“You know … Leo Messi,” Lewis is quick to clarify.
The silence hangs heavy. Mick looks at you, betrayal written across his face but there’s understanding too. “And you’re Mick Schumacher, Michael’s son. God, I feel so stupid,” the realization dawns.
For a moment, nothing. Then, Mick smiles. “Guess we’re pretty bad at keeping secrets, huh?”
“Or pretty good,” you retort. “Depending on how you look at it.”
You both laugh, the sound echoing through the Mercedes garage. When you're together, you’re not Mick Schumacher and Y/N Messi but just Mick and Y/N again. You’re more than the gargantuan shadows of your last names.
The end of summer isn’t a goodbye, it’s a beginning. The beginning of something new, something real. Even under the intense scrutiny of the world, you hold onto each other, two hearts beating as one.
And that, in the end, is the true victory.
taglist: @musingsbyshreya
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lazyneonrabbitt · 4 months
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Domesticated
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Daryl Dixon x reader
Request. Cuddling in bed, like mundane little moments in their relationship
🏠 🌳 🐺
You laid in bed, cuddling your big, fluffy beast of a man. Propped up on your elbows that rested on his chest so you could press sweet kisses to his snout while the rough pads of his paws ran over the soft fat of your thighs and butt. You had just gotten out of the shower while Daryl had offered to warm the bed for when you got back.
Even with the winter being as cold as it was, you were,you were perfectly comfortable being in the nude underneath only the large deer pelt Daryl had gifted you as his courting gift that you had ever so excitingly accepted when the days started getting shorter, and with accepting the pelt you also accepted his offer of marriage.
Which was something you hadn't entirely realised as it happened.
You had been invited to come over for dinner and you had stayed with him in his basement room overnight and only kisses and cuddles were shared after he gave you the pelt.
When you came back upstairs the next morning Carol had embraced and congratulated you, asking if the newlyweds would like some breakfast.
Your little sign of shock had Daryl almost regret not being more forward about it until Carol enthousiastically spoke up about it and Daryl only sensed happiness and love coming from you.
"So, the pelt is like my wedding ring?" You three shared breakfast and talked. Carol snooped about your first night together and got disappointingly boring answers, and Daryl explained how werewolf relationships worked and tried to adapt them to you being a human together.
So here you sat at your back porch. A large sheet covering the white painted floofing as you held the squirel carcass with your bare hands and cut away at the skin with a grimace on your face.
Next to you your loving husband laid on the floor, rolled over on his back and laughing.
Well, as far as laughing went in his shifted form.
The first time he had you do this was a nightmare.
Daryl came home with a couple of hunted squirels, throwing them at you and letting you know he caught dinner and you were preparing it.
Sitting on the porch you watched in horror as Daryl showed you how to skin the little creature and prepare it for cooking.
When he handed you one you took it reluctantly, being way out of your comfort zone while Daryl laughed.
"Yer the one who mentioned havin' kids. I'm the one teachin' ya how to be a good werewolf momma before I even think of puttin' a pup in ya."
You complained all the way through the job, and Daryl helped you a lot those first few times.
Now as you were at the squirel business again he had shifted so he couldn't help you. Not physically but also not even verbally as he couldn't talk. You almost didn't want to feed him the squirel after you finished it.
Not that you'd need to take it apart for him, he'd swallow it whole.
"It's for the babies." You kept telling yourself as you almost cried when you stuffed your hands into its chest cavity to pull the innards out. "Gods, I can't believe you shove your entire head between a deer's ribs to eat. So gross.."
While it wasn't technically a complaint, Daryl still decided to fake offense and dramatically turn away from you, plopping down with his tail almost in your squirrel and loudly grumbling like you hurt his feelings.
"Just know that if you ever feed them whole squirels you're the one bathing them." You swat his tail away from the dead animal and slump back as you continue to reluctantly carve it up.
At least you had dinner prep almost done now.
Together with the potatoes coming in from Hilltop and the locally grown greens you managed to put together a decent meal for the two of you.
Like you agreed on you ate dinner together at the table, even if you had been spending all day at home. Dinner was one constant at home to both be normal people for a moment.
As you ate you felt eyes on you, knowing full well what that look was but you ignored it to the best of your ability and continues to eat.
Untill Daryl decided ro mumble a question with his mouth full. One you didn't quite make out and had you look up.
Right into his big, sad puppy eyes that looked down at the meat on your plate and back at you, pleading to trade.
There was a lot people didn't know about Daryl. One of those being his hidden talent for giving puppydog eyes that rivaled even little Jude and RJ's.
One quick glance was all it took for you to give in and trade some of his potatoes for your portion of meat.
A sigh leaves your smiling lips as he happily chows down on his dinner.
After Daryl washed the dishes that you dried and put away after, you decided to go for a shower.
He loved it when you washed his hair, scratching the collected dirt off his scalp and massaging fhe soap through his hair. If you didn't need to preserve water he could stay in there like this with you for the whole night.
When you were done he'd always return fhe favor. Washing your hair with the same care as you did for him.
One thing you did without fail was make sure to be out of the shower before Daryl had the water shut off.
As you stood on the ratty old bathmat you watched Daryl's figure as he shook the water off him like a wet dog, his long hair slinging waterdrops everywhere.
Your little after shower ritual was nowhere near as thorough as it was in the old world, but whemever Daryl brought back sealed bottles of lotion you'd make sure to treat your skin nicely while your hair sat wrapped in a towel and Daryl watched you while he air-dried on the edge of the tub.
You loved to watch him through the mirror, staring lovingly at your butt while you lathered yourself in lotion, and caked moisturizer on your face. After massaging it all in you went to towel dry your hair as you let the rest of you continue to air-dry.
Once you had your hair dried and brushed you moved over to brush Daryl's as well. Carefully plucking at the tangles and being relieved when you didn't find any knots you couldn't save and had to cut out.
Living alone in the house was a blessing, being able to walk around the upper floor in nothing but a towel without having to worry anyone would see you as Daryl snatched the towel off you to hang over the edge of the tub before joining you in bed.
It might have been early, but as long as he got to cuddle you he'd be in bed any hour of the day.
~~☆☆☆~~
A/N: So much fluffy goodness! Do you enjoy the fluff? Or would you enjoy more smut?
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yyawnjun · 7 months
Note
Hello, I was wondering if I could make a request for jeonghannie 😢😢, how would he react to seeing you breastfeed your baby in front of him?
95'S LINE SVT AS DADS
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dad!jeonghan, dad!joshua, dad!s.coups x reader
a.n: hihi, this was so cute,, thank you for requesting!!
I thought about adding something and making Jeonghan(+ the 95's line) as a dad, hope that's okay and I hope you will like it !!
hcs ; + short scenario ; separated ; fluff ; 1.9k wc. ; BLUSHING OVER ALL OF THEM
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JEONGHAN [정한]
Imagine him with a daughter. the devil duo. A duo that everyone fears because of the pranks they play every day. So, good luck dealing with the female copy of Jeonghan… He would be adorable though; he would do anything to make his daughter happy and would also tend to spoil her to see her smile…he would let her find her hobbies and then become her biggest support!! He throws a tantrum when your daughter wants to stay with you. he might even pout and huff as he tries to get your attention, but you would keep to annoy him - and even if he does not admit it he loves it. In fact, he would love most of all when your daughter is with you. the two people who make him happy most in the world sleeping peacefully in your bed; he would lie down with you to soon fall asleep happily, safe in the knowledge that when he wakes up you would be the first thing he sees.
Starting from the beginning, when you have just become parents. And you are sharing the first experiences, such as the first diaper change, the first doctor's visit, the first clothes and toys purchased, and the first time he saw you breastfeeding your daughter.
Even the most ordinary and natural action you did for your child made him shy as if it reminded him of his love for you.
But not just any love, but the kind of teenage love that brought you together while you were still in high school. That sincere and pure love that marks a newly-arrived feeling, that love that makes your heart beat wildly for something as simple as a gaze or a hand brush.
Looking away, wandering eyes, hand still on the doorknob, body between the doorway and the room, blushing face, unclear and vague speech, a smirk of hidden happiness – these are his reactions to seeing you breastfeed your daughter for the first time.
That would be the first time he understood that your relationship had reached new depths and that something more than ever had been established from your wonderful marriage.
And that for the rest of your lives, you will not only have each other to keep you company, but you will also have your daughter to whom you can pour out all your love.
After you teased a bit but mostly comforted him--there was no need to be nervous after everything that had happened between you--he entered the room and sat down next to you. He didn't want to say anything because he was terrified of interrupting what was happening in front of your eyes. He'd wait for the baby to go to sleep before assisting you with anything you wanted to do. A warm bath? He would make it. Sleep? He would sleep with you. Should I eat something? He has already entered the kitchen.
I don't know how many more times you will have the chance to see Jeonghan so openly available, wanting nothing in return?
Although, in reality, every move he made was an attempt to express his deepest gratitude to you and to truly remind you how much he cares about you.
S.COUPS [ 에스쿱스]
DAD OF TWINS. I won't take no for an answer. I imagine twins, a boy and a girl, whom he would love with all his heart. He would go to both of their games and matches. He would be that father cheering up 24/7 his kid. S.coups plans family outings, finds delicious recipes, and loves playing 24/7 with his children. He would continuously smile when he was with them, and he would do everything he could to spend as much time as possible with his family. And I think he is the type that even when he is not with his children, ALWAYS talks about them. As if they were awards or cats, he would show everyone their pictures. + He would have a picture of you holding the twins as his phone background. He would become a chef, always thinking about what to cook he might buy for his children.
+ I believe he is the type of person who would want them to match their outfit…and with him too. He would love to tell them stories, especially creating new ones, either to put them to sleep or to entertain them on the walks. They'd be so unique and entertaining that they'd catch your attention and you'd start listening to them as well.
Imagine your family on one of the summer weekends. The kids are six years old, and you're going for a short hike on a mountain. You're holding hands while he's backpacking your sleeping son and, with his other hand, holding his daughter's hand. He'd have a 32-toothed smile on his face and a proud look on his face as he narrated another of his stories. As fate would have it, the story had ended by the time you arrived in the designated meadow, and the children had gone asleep as well. You lay down on a huge sheet that has been spread out. S.coups brought out the sack lunch you had brought, and you and he proceeded to eat as the twins slept peacefully.
You are lying down addled with your head on his legs, remembering about days spent together, as he gently brushes your hair. You two begin talking about how you dreamt about those experiences as teenagers and how wonderful it was that it all came true in the end. Your quiet conversation awakened the two kids who were hungry and eager to eat the delicious lunch you had prepared.
Your lunch was over in a burst of laughter and more stories, and your children instantly went around the large field to play. Before you could move, you noticed S.coups getting up and following them.
It was just you and your family in that idyllic place, and everything in that moment only brought joy to your heart. Running in the meadows, bouncing in the grass, gasping breaths, loud laughing, sunshine lighting up faces and legs that wouldn't stop moving - everything in that moment only brought joy to your heart.
Taking a picture or a video would never be enough to capture that moment, so you closed your eyes for a second to imprint that memory as deeply as possible in your mind.
As if your eyes were a camera, and you heard your husband's voice shouting as they closed--as if before a shot.
"THE FIRST ONE WHO REACHES MOM WIN," and the most gorgeous vision was before you as soon as you opened your eyes again.
The three people you cared about the most in the world, with whom you were able to share every aspect of yourself and who you could always rely on, were running toward you. Arms outstretched, enormous smiles, quick running, and upbeat attitudes: that was an incredible summer day.
JOSHUA [조슈아]
The beautiful dad that everyone admires. He is kind, loving, intelligent, handsome, helpful, funny… And of course, he only has eyes for you and your children. I imagine a family with three or four children of different ages. He would like to have large families and be surrounded by people he cares about. I believe he would remember every detail about all of his children, no matter how small. Let's be honest: he loves taking care of his children(MALEWIFE VIBES.) He would love to go to the grocery and bring home a few extra surprises for the kids. + He is the type of parent who would come back with pounds of something you said you liked months ago. He would also take you on trips when the children are old enough. And he makes every effort to include y'all in his business trips. As much as he doesn't always show it, I believe he misses you continuously while you're not with him. HE WOULD SING FOR YOUR CHILDREN. Those wonderful lullabies that would sound heavenly and perfect to lull them to sleep through his voice.
It's late at night, and your town is being battered by a violent thunderstorm. Sleep is restless and light due to the roaring rain, lightning, thunder, and noisily moving leaves.
Some people are not influenced by the weather outside; on the contrary, they are lulled by it, but others, such as your children, are frightened by it. It was soft weeping, not outside noises, that woke you up.
Your 5-year-old kid approached your bed with tears in his eyes, wanting to go with you and your husband to your bed.
It didn't take long for the child to snuggle between you and Joshua after waking you up, falling asleep peacefully after a few minutes.
After the initial worry, the image of your lover and son sleeping close together was projected in front of your eyes, and you quickly fell back into Morpheus' embrace.
It wasn't more than five minutes later that you heard your 6-year-old middle daughter moving the sheets on your bed. She, too, had been woken up by the thunderstorm and was unable to sleep due to her fear of the noises that had grown louder in the meantime.
You invited her to sleep in your bed without thinking about it.
The bed was suddenly filled with warmth and breaths that had slept together that night. Even with the arrival of your daughter, Joshua had not awoken.
But it was when he heard the word "dad" that he sat up in bed and opened his eyes wide.
He saw his seven-year-old son by his bed and, shifting his sight to the bed, he noticed the rest of his family sound asleep. He couldn't explain what had happened, but it felt like a warm squeeze to his heart, which was full of love.
He smiled and turned to face his kid, asking what he was doing there.
"The storm woke me up, and in the room, I no longer saw my brothers," he murmured, alluding to the two who were now peacefully sleeping next to you.
Thunder interrupted the silence before your husband could say anything. Your son approached his father as he shook himself awake.
That thunder had woken you all up, and the younger brother's sudden crying had woken his sister up as well.
You sat up in your chair and looked at the time; it was 4:54 a.m. As you held the children in your arms, their cries appeared to grow louder, and your soft words sought to drown out their sorrow.
Any noise was broken by a more musical sound.
To put his children to sleep, Joshua began humming their favorite song. His voice was still slightly raspy from just waking up, but it just added to his allure.
And you were not the only one who thought so.
The children, enchanted, began to be calmed to sleep by that melody.
Joshua had gotten up to make a place for the older brother, who had also lying out in bed.
You hinted about getting up and leaving so your husband could stay in bed. But, with a simple smile and a wave of his hand, he assured you that you could stay and that he would sleep on the couch next to the bed for the rest of the night.
His hair was messy, his voice was harsh but clear, and his eyes were half-closed. In your opinion, Joshua had never looked more beautiful.
And everyone in that house had gone asleep thanks to his voice; minds wandered through dreams, and his image imprinted in your mind followed you to the dream realm as well.
Thank you for reading!! comments, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. I hope y'all will like it <3
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justporo · 7 months
Text
Scenes from a bathtub
A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 1
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Author's Note: Here we are, I'm so excited to share the first chapter for this story. The part in which Tav and Astarion start getting ready, enjoying a nice soak in the tub - and some other stuff. Let me know what you think!
Song: Royals - Lorde
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: Some light smut at the very end of the chapter
CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER
~~~
A few weeks had passed. The night of the ball had finally arrived.
Astarion had actually been excited ever since the invitation had been delivered. He really seemed eager to make it a night to remember for the both of you: so you had actually spent some more evenings waltzing around your space (also trying other dances) and Astarion had very cryptically promised you he’d take care of ‘wardrobe and grooming’. You dearly hoped he’d remember his promise about corsets and wouldn’t turn you into someone you wouldn’t recognise if you passed by a mirror.
It was still hours from then until the event started but Astarion had insisted on starting to get ready. You had looked at the clock and back to the vampire and back at the clock. Had it been only you, you’d probably only have run a bath half an hour before, then quickly dressed and done some basic makeup before arriving a little late. But as you told Astarion that he’d cocked an eyebrow and looked you up and down in such a judgmental way you’d first felt like a young girl getting scolded. And when he hadn’t stopped you’d gotten pissed at his pretentious behaviour. “My sweet sweet love, if you can’t even stand passive-aggressive stares for more than a few moments it’s going to be a very short evening. These people live off judging others and elevating their pitiful selves over you. And the trick is to just always be twice the bastard they are.” “Great, sounds like such a fun evening, Astarion.”
You had crossed your arms over your chest and had felt anxiety creeping up inside you. Already you had worried that you’d be awfully out of place at this event. But Astarion had grabbed your hands that you had firmly tugged away under your arms and placed them on your cheeks, covering yours with his own long fingers. “Don’t worry, my love, you’re fortunate enough to have a master of the art at your side to show you how it’s done”, he had said with a big smirk and given you a quick kiss. “And if that still doesn’t help just step on someone’s skirts or elbow them so they splash their drinks on somebody around and watch the chaos unfold. You wouldn’t believe how quickly these elitist people get physical if they feel their ‘honour’” – he dramatically air-quoted and rolled his eyes – “is at stake”, he had continued with an even bigger almost feral smirk when he’d noticed you were still tense. This – a good old brawl? You had seen and partaken in a fair share of those in your time as a Baldur’s Gate lowlife. You slowly had grinned back at your soulmate then: “No promises, I won’t do that anyway if these rich fuckers annoy me too much.” Astarion had thrown his head back and laughed: “Oh my lovely little anarchist.”
So now you were sitting in your big tub that was lowered in the stone floor of your bathroom.
The two of you loved spending almost whole nights just enjoying the warmth and comfort of a hot bath – talking, drinking wine, taking in the scents of exotic oils Astarion picked up from specialty stores, caressing and massaging each other; often times resulting in more passionate actions. This time the vampire had brought some ‘special’ stuff to really doll yourselves up for this big ball.
Currently, Astarion was sitting in between your legs, leaning back against your naked chest while you washed and detangled his curls and just enjoyed your care while breathing softly. Before, he had put some mud all over his face he claimed would “make his complexion glow even more”. The stuff indeed smelled nicely as it drifted into your nose while you massaged Astarion’s scalp carefully, but he still looked kind of ridiculous. Also you weren’t entirely convinced that this was how it worked for vampires.
Seldomly was the pale elf this relaxed. And this fact alone filled your heart with joy. You let your fingers move through his hair and softly massaged his neck and his ears as well which resulted in a soft, relaxed moan from him from time to time.
Astarion’s chest lifted in a particular deep breath, causing droplets of bathwater to run down his toned chest and the light from the candles you’d lit all over the room danced over his smooth skin. He really almost caused you to forget to breathe sometimes just by existing.
“This is heaven, my love. If this is what the afterlife is like I’ll happily perish right on the spot”, he sighed and let out a long breath. You smiled happily and really buried your fingertips in his curls once more causing the vampire to groan in pleasure and making his head loll from side to side.
With his eyes still closed he reached one arm slowly behind himself – obviously with the intention to reach your face. “Only thing missing now is a kiss from you, my sweet honey pie.”
“Sweet honey pie? What’s gotten into you?”
“Hmhm, can you blame me? Your fingers caressed me into oblivion, cherry muffin.” You scrunched up your nose and pinched the back of his neck. It seemed you really had worked common sense out of the man; he was talking mad.
“You know the implication it makes when you call me food related pet names, don’t you?”, you asked him, leaning close to one of his pointy ears. “Oh, very much so, even though I must inform you, that you taste neither off honey pie nor cherry muffins.”
Astarion started to stretch while speaking, tensing his muscles, reaching his arms even beyond you and yawning. The comparison to a cat was more than imminent. On their way back his hands found your head and stroked your hair despite the awkward angle.
“Aha, so what do I taste like to you, hm? Indulge me”, you requested and wrapped your arms around Astarion’s chest as he sidled up against you again. Your hands rested on each other on his stomach now, you leaned your chin on his shoulder. His arms were still stretched around his back to let his fingers wander through your hair.
“Well, when I first compared it to a good wine that was a very accurate description. But now, with some more, shall I say, expertise in your bouquet, I’d describe it like this: sometimes it’s like a wonderful red wine, full-bodied but with soft floral notes. But sometimes it’s more like delicious fruit covered in dark chocolate. It just… varies slightly: depending on what you eat, how you’ve been feeling, what time of month it is…” The last part surprised you: “You can taste… my cycle?” “Oh, not only that, but I can also smell it as well – I mean besides the obvious. You’d be surprised at what I can find out about you from taking a single nose full of your exquisite scent alone, my love.” You felt dumbfounded, he’d never mentioned that before. And you also didn’t need to see the smirk when he said that to know that it was there.
“Like?”, you simply asked, a bit embarrassed but also very much intrigued about this particular skill of his. Astarion didn’t like talking about the specifics of his condition very much so whenever he opened up about it you grasped the opportunity to learn more about it and him.
“Oh, for example, I can definitely always tell when you want me. And, if I dare say so, the intensity and frequency surprised even me, my wicked little siren”, Astarion explained, his tone deep and full of seduction. Your cheeks were burning, your whole neck and face actually. You softly slid down Astarion’s back and into the bathwater, desperately hoping for a sudden hole at the bottom of the tub that would hopefully swallow you whole.
The vampire had to grip the rim of the tub and straighten himself when you slithered down into the depths of the bathwater. You heard him laugh: “I can also most certainly tell whenever you get one of those full body blushes, my sweet.” He slowly moved to turn around to you, while you had sunk into the water, only your eyes and the top of your head still showing above the water level. Bubbles rose up while the last of your air left your nose and you looked at the vampire in embarrassment who simply looked back at you with a smile – face still covered in mud and only his red eyes contrasting with it; what a ridiculous scene.
Astarion softly grabbed you by the shoulders to prevent you from your attempt to drown yourself. You could see his signature smirk on his face. “Now, now, no need to feel ashamed, my lecherous little nymph. I couldn’t blame you, could I?” His grin split his face and his teeth glinted at you – most prominently his fangs. “Also, I can assure you that the feeling is very much mutual, beautiful. Now give me a kiss!”, he demanded while he had dragged you up from the water successfully.
With his hands still on your shoulders he pulled you towards him, lips already pursed in expectation.
“Not while you have dirt on your face”, you replied in disgust and placed your flat hand against his face to hold him off.
“It’s not dirt!”, Astarion exclaimed, voice rising in annoyance and grabbed your hand from his face. You still looked at him in disgust. “Ugh, fine!” He rolled his eyes and splashed water on his face and rubbed himself clean with his hands.
“Better?”, he asked after a few moments, tone still a bit annoyed. “No wait, there’s still a little bit”, you said and leaned close to him as if wanting to clean a speckle off his perfect face, brows furrowed in concentration. But with a lightning quick move you pinched his nose, making him growl back at you. He grabbed you by the shoulders once more and pulled you close until you were nose to nose while he stared angrily at you. “No poking the vampire!”, he said sombrely. “Or I’ll eat you!”
You giggled and closed the last bit of space to finally kiss him. And that seemed to calm down the beast. Letting go of your shoulders, one of his hands wandered to the front of your neck, softly resting on your collarbone. The other cupped your cheek while his tongue entered your mouth – tasting you, tangling with yours, exploring. Then he broke the kiss, leaving you to gasp, and trailing little pecks from the corner of your mouth over your cheek up to your ear.
You softly arched yourself to him, offering up your neck. “If you want to find out if today’s more of a wine or chocolate day.” The vampire laughed. Promise rang in it. “Deeply appreciated, my sweet, but maybe later. Can’t have you running around tonight with two fresh puncture wounds on your neck, can we?”, he whispered and let his lips wander lightly over your quickening pulse. His hand on your neck applying just the tiniest bit of pressure on your throat.
You could only gulp. “Also, I fear that if I would get lost in your neck now, we are never making it to this event”, Astarion added while lifting his face from your neck. Ah yes, you’d almost forgotten.
The pale elf smirked again at you: “And we still have some work to do on you, my sweet.” “Excuse you?” Whatever had heated your blood was immediately gone – this prick.
“You heard me, now turn around and let me take care of you in return, my love”, he insisted. You sighed and complied because you knew there was no point in denying him. And also, you wouldn’t say no to getting pampered by your vampire.
You let yourself be seated in the same position Astarion had been in at first: between his legs, your back to his chest. He put some of the goo on your face despite your protest (“It’s only going to bring out your beauty some more, my love.” “This face is as good as it gets as is, Astarion, no need to try.” “Hush and shut your nasty mouth or I can’t promise to keep the dirt out of it!”). Then he softly scrubbed you all clean and massaged your whole body, pouring some heavenly smelling oils in his hands from time to time.
The night before he had gone out to run some errands – and returned with bags and bags of stuff. It had been clothes and apparently lots of toiletry. One of the things had been large and very heavy. But about that and some other stuff he’d brought he had wiggled his finger at you to not take a peek.
Everything for your bath time he had neatly lined up next to the tub. You barely had a clue what all the small jars, flasks and crucibles were for but if it made him happy to indulge in it you were the last person to stop him from it.
Then he’d carefully run the bath you were now sitting in. And you couldn’t complain: the bath water smelled heavenly of lavender and cedar. Whatever he was massaging you with smelled of oranges and other delicious fruits and he himself deliciously of bergamot.
You sighed deeply and were aware that you must’ve been the perfect mirror image of what Astarion had looked like some minutes ago.
“Enjoying yourself, my love?”, Astarion asked gently while his hands worked your neck. You only hummed in response. “We should do this more often, darling. You’re allowed to indulge in luxury sometimes, you know?”, he said softly while starting to work on your hair.
“Speaking of – mind telling me how much exactly everything was you brought home yesterday?”, you asked while letting your head fall back into his touch, eyes closed. “Yes, I do mind. Part of indulgence is not looking at the price tag, my sweet”, Astarion scolded you sweetly. “And you deserve to take better care of yourself”, he continued while trying to get out a serious knot from your braids.
You felt your body tense a little and sighed: “You know I’m not good with either of those things, Astarion.” “I know”, he replied simply and shortly lifted one of your hands out of the water to press a kiss to it. “That’s why I’m going to teach you. I’ll have you be a high-maintenance lady ready to splurge at every opportunity in no time, dearest.” You laughed and readjusted your sitting position to lean back against the elf’s chest more. “I don’t think that would be a good look on me.” Astarion sighed dramatically: “Oh well, a shame. I guess I’m going to have to fill this role then.” You softly chuckled at that and thought to yourself that he was already well en route for that.
“I guess I could take up some of your suggestions though – I’m tired of feeling like a gutter rat standing next to you in all your luscious, white-curly glory.” Astarion snickered: “I’ll have you remember you chose the description ‘gutter rat’ for yourself. Also, I think you’re the most beautiful creature the Gods have ever created but to each their own I guess.” You blushed again and sank down a little further between his legs while he grabbed another one of the flasks.
Sometimes he just made you so casually swoon you couldn’t believe it – and never did you know how to reply to his genuine and sweet flattery.
“So, lesson one: you have really beautiful hair, my love, and I know you love your braids, but it all turns into a tangled mess easily. But fortunately,” – he poured something from the flask onto your prepared and detangled hair; it smelled deliciously flowery – “some clever soul came up with conditioner. You use it after you’ve washed your hair. Use only a little and work it into your hair like this.” He worked the thick liquid specifically into the lengths of your hair, combing through them with his fingers and then softly scrunching the strands in his hands. “Then you let it sit a little and only then rinse it out. It helps with tangles and also will make your hair deliciously soft.” Astarion basically purred the last words. Oh, good thing to know this was something he delighted in.
He did as he had instructed you while you patiently sat there and let him work his magic. Afterwards he proceeded to comb your hair through.
You both sat in silence. You enjoyed being taken care of and thought of the evening to come. You couldn’t help but feel some anxiety again creep into you at the thought of having to deal with the society of the Upper City. You’d probably take a good old-fashioned tavern brawl or a heist every day over having to make small talk with people who’d probably also choose the description “gutter rat” for you.
“Now”, Astarion said after a while “for tonight’s event I would like to propose to you to put your hair in some waves. Nothing major, just pinning them, letting them dry and then putting some strands up later.”
You were still way inside your head to fully understand what he was getting up: “Oh uhm, go ahead. Just don’t make me look like a coiffed poodle please.” Astarion scoffed at that and started to pin your hair up carefully.
“What’s troubling you, my love?”, he asked casually because of course he had noticed how you were absent-minded and your body had tensed. By what he had earlier revealed he’d probably smelled it too.
For a second you wondered if you ever could hide something from this man. But then again – why would you have to?
You sighed deeply while you grabbed your one hand with the other and started to press your thumb into the palm of the other – a nervous habit. “I guess, I’m still a bit scared of how the evening will play out”, you confessed and let your head fall down. Astarion wasn’t having it: “Ah ah, my sweet, head up or I can’t work. But also, head up because you don’t need to be worried. If push comes to shove, we can always leave.” You sighed again and relaxed a little. You shortly lifted your hand to grab one of his to squeeze it in thanks.
“Aren’t you scared at all? I mean, like of meeting someone… from before… or from before before?”, you asked silently and looked down at your hands still kneading each other in the water.
The vampire didn’t respond immediately. “You don’t have to answer-“, you started but then Astarion replied. “Not really. Cazador sometimes had us spawn ‘entertain’ his guests during his events but seeing as he either altered their memory or killed them off in the end… No one will recognise me albeit I may know some of the attending guests”, he explained pretty matter-of-fact while his hands kept working on putting up strand for strand of your hair.
Another silence followed.
“As from before that…” Astarion’s words trailed off. You grabbed his hand once more and almost already wanted to say again that he didn’t have to tell you but you kind of felt he wanted to let it out. “I haven’t seen or heard a shred from anyone I knew or was related to since I’ve been turned. Never. And my surname is pretty common among elves – there probably are at least five other Lord Ancuníns running about the city. I guess we might meet our lovely elder neighbour and that’s about it.”
His hands had stopped their task. Your hand was still grabbing one of his and you squeezed it again to try and provide some comfort. “I’m sorry, Astarion”, you whispered quietly and leaned your head back. It connected with his forehead as he leaned forward a little.
“Don’t be”, he whispered back while his fingers started to move again. “You’re my family now”, he said and at that your heart swelled with warmth and love.
“I love you, Astarion.” “Love you too, my little gutter rat.”
You tried to splash him with water.
How could he go from genuine, sincere and melancholy to unbelievable bastard in point two seconds. He was a handful at the best of times.
The vampire just laughed at your petty attempt of getting back at him. Shortly after he proclaimed being done with his work.
“There you go, now wash off your face, my dear”, he instructed. You did as told, then turned around to him: “Are we done now? I feel like I might’ve already grown some fins!”
Astarion smirked at you. “Oh no, there’s one more thing we need to take care of, my sweet”, he said slowly and threw you a glance that immediately made your blood boil. “And what might that be?”, you asked, already barely trusting your mouth to form words with the way he kept staring at you with his crimson gaze.
“Well, I can’t let you go to this event all tense and anxious, can I?”, he asked and moved closer to you, his gaze almost predatory. You gulped and moved back until your back hit the rim of the tub and there was no more space to escape from the prowling vampire. You felt heat form inside of you.
He moved in even closer, putting his arms around you as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.
“Luckily, I know just the right treatment for this kind of ailment”, he whispered and let his lips wander to your neck where your pulse had started hammering. He grabbed you then and lifted you up, so you sat on the floor just in front of the tub that was lowered into the ground. “That’s lesson two my love: always grasp onto the pleasures life offers you”, he whispered sinfully as he moved your legs, so your thighs were placed on his shoulders. You were already shuddering in expectation. You let one of your hands enter his soft curls as he made you lean back.
Astarion lowered his mouth to the space between your legs, letting his devilish silver tongue work its magic and devoured you as if you were a feast and he a starved man.
When lightning had struck the first time with your back arched impossibly at the way he had made you feel and your hand buried in his curls, he rose out of the tub. You watched him as trails of water ran down his perfect body, already yearning for more. To feel him, to love him.
You looked at him expectantly, seeing the love and the desire you felt mirrored in his ruby eyes. He lowered himself onto you on the edge of the tub, moving you back a little and made sure the second lightning struck both of you.
Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque
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soaln · 2 months
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‼️⁉️🙏🏽 Gotta be the first to request you know what I'm saying
Can you make a poly relationship between the male reader (preferably FTM but whatever works), Sanji and Zoro!
It can be any scenario because I can't think (don't be angst, not trying to cry my eyes out.)
- Mr. Off
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╰┈➤ ZORO & SANJI
🎀 ;; fluff,male reader (ftm),poly <3,fem dni,bad grammar,idk if it’s angst(im sorry 😭if it is),lazy at the end,ooc(like always)
🌸 ;; got not idea for an one shot
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HEADCANONS,,
• The thought of dating both Zoro and Sanji was something that you didn’t expect. You never thought that’ll happen.
• when you first interact with Zoro and Sanji it wasn’t like love at first sight you were quite distant. They didn’t mind of course.
• you started to get along with Sanji,because of your cooking skills how bad/good you were at it. Then with Zoro it’s mostly because of some missions/adventure forced both of you to socialize a bit to not be awkward.
• As the months passed, you began to develop some feelings for these two people. At first you didn’t thought much of it but when you started to realize this love who was more than that of a love of friendship,you panicked.
• Sanji was huge womanizer and Zoro,well you didn’t know much. You began to deny those feelings.
• after finding out this feeling,talking to them wasn’t like before it wasn’t smooth and sweet it was hesitant.
• Sanji was the first to notice your change of attitude. He always observed you whether from far or near [kinda creepy].
• when you came in the crew he didn’t thought much of you,women was his top priorities.When you mentioned your cooking skills he wanted to see how ‘good you were.
• that’s what made you guys closer than b4. The cook started to caught some feelings for you,he didn’t want to believe it,him falling for a man ? And it took time for him to realize his feelings[you’re totally his bi awakening w Zoro🔥]
• Finally,Zoro,he realized your change of attitude when he was talking and he just turned his head around for few seconds you already disappeared.
• he didn’t know what to say he was just irritated. It also took a while for Zoro to start having feelings for you.
• You guys got closer because of a random situation you guys got yourselves into. He first impression on you was that you’re gonna be as annoying as Sanji [judging by your looks] he thought wrong.
• Zoro isn’t best with emotion and everybody know it. When he find out his crush for you well he asked Robin some help she was kind of surprised ‘cause Zoro seems like a person who wouldn’t fall in love with someone but she didn’t judge and said ‘you should confess first,[Name] isn’t the type to confess first.’
• When Sanji found out about Zoro’s crush he wasn’t happy about [ofc he wouldn’t 😒] but he decided to not fight about it.
• He chooses to share you,Zoro was surprised by that but he didn’t mind it the rivalry between them was still there.
• They both asked you out,you felt your face turning warm and you mumble your words well you accept both of them.
• The first time getting together was quite awkward none of you really dated someone.(maybe sanji)
• but you guys started to get comfortable after few months. Sanji and Zoro started to fight over you,of who could make you feel better.
• at first it was a little annoying but you get used to it.
• When you guys go on dates it’s really funny [for you specially] seeing them fight makes you laugh for some reason.
• baths. Baths with each other,well Sanji and Zoro are both male assigned At birth,you were ashamed of your chest scars and genital pars and so uncomfortable.
• They didn’t want to force you,so they waited until you were comfortable.
•but you finally decided to fight it and tell them that you’re a trans guy,well they aren’t the first person you told about your transition [it was chopper] and you knew they will not care about it and support you.
• It was in the kitchen,Sanji on Zoro were both here. "I’m trans." You blurted. Zoro was the one who was the most confused in the kitchen,but he didn’t cared about it so much he supported you and told you that a man shouldn’t be ashamed of his scars.
• Sanji was supporting you,and will be helping you the most in your dysphoric day calling some randoms manly petnames to comfort you.(he’s such a bbg <3)
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creedslove · 5 months
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Oh, Mari, help! I need a living heater in the form of Joel. It's been damn cold in my country, it's 11 degrees (it was 27 a week ago). And my furnace broke down (so my radiators are cold) and the repair guy won't come until Saturday 😭
Also, this song gave me "Heartless" vibes today: Stephen Sanchez - Until I Found You
Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
A/N: aww baby, I know this ask is a few months old now but I hope things are alright for you! We are also dealing with drastic temperature change, I mean a week ago it was more than 30° but today the max temperature is like 17° so I could definitely use Joel to keep me warm too 😭🫦
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• Winters during the outbreak are possibly one of the worst and most depressing things mankind had ever faced, lacking sources of heat, electricity and basic things such as warm clothes, decent blankets and hot water, surviving that weather became one of the many other things someone would need to survive in that world
• no matter if you lived in a QZ, or if you were on the run over the long abandoned roads, winter was hard and that was the time people usually drank the most in order to keep themselves warm and numb to how bad things were
• and even if everything was terrible, you were still so lucky you had Joel, because that man would do anything he could in order to protect you from any danger and of course, from the cold weather as well
• if we are talking about the time you live in the QZ, he would use his smuggling skills in order to offer you the best he can find: jackets, coats, sweaters, blankets, booze, anything really
• and of course you will both snuggle so close in bed, it's funny how Joel is the little spoon even if he's bigger, but he can switch positions whenever you need his body sheltering you
• fucking to keep warm is also a possibility you both really enjoy
• when you guys escape the QZ, he knows nights out in the open are also cold, even if it isn't the winter, and you can't take space in your backpack to carry big, thick blankets, so you will both have to handle sleeping bags
• Joel would always make sure to find shelter and start a fire, so you can spend some time as warm and cozy as possible and of course you would both cuddle so you wouldn't lose heat
• when you get to Jackson, you can barely believe there is such a place, where you can actually have lights on, warm baths and decent, comfortable beds
• while you are both in awe, after eating a proper meal for the first time in months, you decide to share a hot shower together; you could've done it separately, but you are doing it together, because you want to have feeling of running your hands through Joel's skin, the warm water pouring over the two of you, as you both soap and shampoo each other
• then, after changing into new, clean and warm clothes, you go to bed; now there's a heating system in the house that actually works, you won't have to feel that excruciating, painful cold wind that seems to reach your bones, but you will still both hold each other at night, as if your lives depended on it, because deep inside, you know it's not just to keep warm you slept like that
• Joel buries his face into the crook of your neck and pulls you closer, his hand holding your hips and stroking your skin up and down, he's able to sleep peacefully, knowing he can finally offer you the protection you need and that you'll be safe in his arms
____
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yae-energy · 9 months
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thank you to my mann
synopsis: what it’s like coming home to your boyfriend nanami
cast: bf! nanami x black fem reader
cw: light cursing, fluff fluff fluff galore | wc: 507. 2,634 char.
a/n: thank you to my pookie bear quincy for suggesting this !!
boyfriend! nanami. . . who nearly runs to greet you at the door and take your coat, glad you both decided to ignore the fact he nearly tripped over his own feet in an attempt to get to you. the best part of his day was seeing you return to your shared home safe and sound, ready to fall into his arms.
boyfriend! nanami. . . who gently massages your shoulders, kissing your cheeks softly as he allows you to ramble on about the stress inducing events that occurred throughout your work shift. all the coworkers that irritated you to the core, the managers that didn’t know how to do their damn job, and the ridiculous workload. nanami knew of it all, and he was there to help you relax and take the pain away.
boyfriend! nanami. . . who prepares a bubble bath with epsom salt for you to soak in. he knows you must be sore from sitting at a desk all day in the most uncomfortable position imaginable; head craning down at a computer screen that was probably damaging your eyesight by the millisecond. he hated the thought of your body deteriorating from the inhumanity of your job, only to receive a below-mediocre salary in return. you were a person and deserved to be treated as such.
boyfriend! nanami. . . who prepares your favorite meal while you soaked in the tub. readying a bottle of his best wine for you to enjoy when you decided to come out and eat your dinner. he never, ever, rushed you to finish. you’ve had people treating you badly all day and he’d rather chop his foot off than make you feel like that at your place of comfort.
boyfriend! nanami. . . who smiles from ear to ear when you emerge from the bedroom all cozied up in your rob and slippers. he takes a moment to appreciate how lucky he was to have you, before escorting you to the dinner table where you both eat together and chat more about your respective days. if you happened to be in a worse mood when you came home he kept the talk about himself to a minimum and fully focused on you and how you were feeling. you were his top priority in that instance and he wanted you to feel as such.
boyfriend! nanami. . . who puts on some soothing music and offers to dance with you. it was your favorite part of the night regardless of how you felt when you came home, swaying with him to the sounds of romantic jazz made your heart swoon and it was like only the two of you existed in the world. cliche? very, but you didn’t care, you loved him dearly.
boyfriend! nanami. . . who kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do so and you quickly reciprocate. it was his way of saying all he needed to, that he loved you just as much as you loved him — if not, more.
production credits: thank you @haksluvr for the idea and thank you to @4kh for beta reading !
taglist: @morosis-haze @jogeto @mypimpademia @miirene @planetlunaa @chocolateochaco @milesmolasses | tag form
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alwaysonthemend · 10 months
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seeing people in the comments on this post being mean about jake's spelling mistakes makes me so fucking mad. so i wrote a ficlet about it. it's just sad fluff with jake being the sweetest human on the planet and needing a little comfort. also i used actual comments from the post in this fic because they made me so angry. i literally wrote this in one sitting so sorry for the inevitable typos.
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You unlocked your front door, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You’d gone out to dinner with a few of your friends, which had quickly turned into a night at the bar (as it often did with this particular group). You’d had fun, but now you were simply exhausted and ready to be in bed. You tiptoed through the house – silent as possible in case Jake was already asleep. You entered your shared bedroom to find him sitting up against the headboard, his phone in his hand and his soft hair up in a loose bun. One lamp was still on, bathing him in a warm, yellow light. 
“Hey, baby.” He gave you a soft smile and you couldn’t help but smile in return. “How were your friends?” 
“Oh they were great.” You said, peeling your shirt and pants off and tossing them into the hamper. “We had fun. But I missed you.” 
Jake smiled wider, but you couldn’t help but notice that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Maybe he’d missed you more than you thought he would. It was a Saturday night, and the two of you usually spent Saturday nights together when he was in town. 
“I missed you too, y/n.” 
You threw on some comfy sweatpants and an old band t of Jake’s before climbing into bed. You settled in close to him and he immediately placed his phone on the bed next to him and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.  He sighed into your skin and closed his eyes. That was sign number two that something was off with him.
“Did you do anything fun while I was gone?” You asked him, extracting the hair tie from his hair so you could run your fingers through his soft locks. 
“No.” His voice sounded muffled from where he had his face pressed against your skin, but you could still hear the flatness of it. He sounded sad. 
“Hey.” You said, pulling yourself from him and forcing him to look up at you. Now that you could see him up close, his eyes were red rimmed – like he’d been crying. The sight made your heart ache. “Jakey, what’s wrong?” 
He just shook his head and looked away. He seemed embarrassed too. 
“Jake, what’s wrong baby.” You caught his chin with your finger and gently turned his head to face you again. “Talk to me.” 
“It’s stupid.” He said, lips pouting out while his brown eyes pooled with sadness and hurt. 
“Clearly not if it’s upsetting you so much.” 
He sat up suddenly, grabbing his phone off the bed from where he’d placed it a moment before and unlocked it. He handed it to you and you looked to see a new Instagram post of his pulled up. It was a picture of him in one of his robes and it looked like he was skipping rocks. The caption simply read “Holding up the falling skies.” 
You furrowed your brows in confusion and looked at him. He wasn’t looking at you – instead staring intently at the bedspread like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 
“I don’t get it.” You said, trying to hand the phone back to him. “It’s a cute post. What’s the matter?”
He sighed, pushing the phone back to you. 
“I fucking misspelled “skies” earlier.” His voice was so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him. “I didn’t realize until right before you walked in.” 
You giggled lightly, amused by his dramatics. 
“So? It’s just a stupid Instagram caption. Who cares if you had a typo?”
He just sighed deeply again and shook his head. 
“Read the comments.” 
You clicked on the comment section and began scrolling through. The first few were harmless: just people wishing that they were there with Jake, one person telling him to go to bed (that one made you laugh), and a few comments about his robe looking piratey. 
You kept scrolling, momentarily confused before you began to see comments that were far less kind. Waiting for him to edit the caption, must have been drunk when he typed this, jaket doesn’t know how to spell ‘skies,’ pookie needs to just go to bed, this does not grammatically make sense, lol. You sighed as you read them, suddenly beginning to understand why he was so upset. 
You know he’s always struggled with his ADHD and his dyslexia – and you know for certain that he’s always been embarrassed about it too. He feels like he’s stupid for making simple spelling or grammar mistakes, and he’s always so nervous about posting. Not too long before tonight he’d texted you with a caption, followed by “does this grammatically make sense? Lol.” You’d told him it was fine and then he’d accidentally copy and pasted the whole message into his caption. He’d been so upset and you’d spent hours trying to make him feel better. And now a bunch of his so-called “fans” were making fun of him for having a simple spelling mistake. It made your blood boil. 
“Jake,” you looked over to see his bottom lip wobbling – fighting to hold back the tears that wanted to fall. “Oh baby.” You said sadly, clicking his phone off and placing it on your nightstand. 
You opened your arms and he all but collapsed against you, wrapping his own arms around your waist tightly. You felt wetness leaking onto your shirt where he was finally letting his tears fall. 
“Jakey, it’s okay.” You soothed, burying your hands in his hair again in an attempt to soothe him. 
“They think I’m fucking stupid.” He admitted. His voice sounded so defeated. 
“Who cares what they think, Jake? We all make mistakes like that. Who cares if they think you’re stupid for one silly mistake? That’s on them for thinking that, not on you.” 
He mumbled something in response but you didn’t quite catch it. 
“What?” 
He shook his head against your stomach, seemingly unwilling to voice what he had just said any louder. 
“Jake,” you admonished, scratching across his scalp softly. “What did you say?”
“I said that I am fucking stupid.” 
Your hands stilled in his hair, frozen at his words. 
“Jake, look at me. Look at me right fucking now.” 
He rose silently, though his eyes were looking anywhere but your face. You reached up, placing your palms on both of his cheeks, forcing him to meet your gaze. 
“You listen to me, Jacob Thomas Kiszka: you are not stupid.” You brushed a few stray tears from beneath his eyes with your thumbs. “Do you hear me? You. Are. Not. Stupid. Don’t you ever say that about yourself again.” 
He stared at you, brown eyes glassy. His beautiful lips were parted, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the sadness off his face. 
“Jake, you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. You’re fucking brilliant;. You read more than I ever had in my entire life, you quote philosophers at me, you remember thousands upon thousands of songs and artists that my brain can barely keep up with, you write incredible song lyrics.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away again. “You can play a song you’ve only heard once, and you’re an incredible artist – even though you don’t think you are.”
His cheeks were flaming, shyness overtaking his sadness after your words. No matter what, Jake is never good at accepting compliments. 
“I’m sorry.” He finally whispers. 
“Sorry for what?” 
“For being a crybaby.”
“Jakey,” you sighed, sliding your hands down to squeeze his shoulders. “You’re allowed to be upset – especially when your own fans are being so shitty. But you are not allowed to call yourself stupid. Because you’re not.” 
“Okay.” He says, but you’re not letting him get off that easy. 
“Say it.” 
It’s his turn to look at you in confusion. 
“Say what?” 
“Say ‘I’m not stupid.’” 
“Y/n…” 
“Nope. You’ve gotta say it. I wanna hear it from your own mouth.” 
“I’m not stupid.” He says quietly, lips quirking up in a smile despite himself. 
“Perfect.” 
You pressed your lips to his again, this time deeper than the one before. He parted his lips, allowing you to take control of the kiss. You poured as much love as you possibly could into it – trying to tell him without words how much you love him. You finally pull away, leaving him to look at you dazed. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too, Jakey. Now let’s go to bed.”
He nods and you reach up to the nightstand and turn the lamp off, plunging the two of you into darkness. 
“Y/n?” Jake asks, his voice quiet and a little unsure, but still loud enough for you to hear him. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I be the little spoon tonight?” 
Your heart melts at his question and you smile, even though he can’t really see it in the dark. 
“Of course. “
Jake lies down, turning his back to you and pressing himself up close to your chest. You wrap your arm around his waist and throw one leg over him and pull him close to you, effectively caging him in against you. You bury your face in his hair and he lets out a contented little sigh. 
“I love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Jake. So much. More than you’ll ever know.” 
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taglist:
@ignite-my-fire
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