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#Companions Care near me
nurseproservices · 5 months
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godblooded · 1 year
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i would die for lae’zel. that is all.
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Learn the difference between personal care and companion care
Choosing the right kind of home care service is important for loved ones as it helps them to live with dignity and independence. Learning the essential difference between personal care and companion care can help you choose the right care facility for your loved one in the long run. With personal care services, your loved one can get all the assistance with hygiene maintenance he or she requires at times. Companion care aims to reduce the risk of memory issues or dementia by helping them participate in various social programs. Read on to know more about the difference between personal care and companion care services.
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valsdelulucorner · 5 months
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Grim Head Cannons <3
This is strictly platonic because grim is, well he's a cat
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Grim loves to sit and lay across your shoulders and neck, weather he is just tired or just wants to hear better, he loves just resting on your shoulders. He can't hear the conversation properly? He's on your shoulders. He's tired and doesn't want to walk/float anymore? He's laying across your shoulders while he rests his face into the side of your neck. If you have long hair he'll use that to cover himself. If he gets threatened or annoyed by another student. He's standing on the back of your neck and leaning against the top of his head, hiding being you while he screeches things back. He gets scared? He's digging his claws into your shoulders while he hides behind you. Practically for anything, he would use it as a excuse to get on top of your shoulders.
After getting to know you more and spending basically all of his time with you, he starts to grow protective of his henchman. You are one of the first people to actually show him kindness and not call him names, the first person to actually hug him and care for him. He likes it, he doesn't want to loose something so precious to him. If he gets jealous when you talk to or hang out with the twst guys, he will just climb onto your shoulders and add himself into the conversation, acting like nothing is happening while he stares daggers into your companion. Your his henchmen, not theirs!
Ok hear me out, whenever Grims emotions get really strong, the fire in his ears start to grow and spread. Its difficult to actually get him to a point where his emotions get so out of control but when you do, keep a fire extinguisher or a fire blanket near by, though a fire blanket is preferred. Be careful when approaching before wrapping him in the blanket, just hold him in said blanket like a baby for a while before he calms down. He'll act like nothing happened but in reality, he's thankful to you, maybe a little annoyed at you if you use the fire extinguisher on him
He grooms you like a cat sometimes when your chilling with him, hear me out. If you guys are in bed ready for sleep or just laying with on a couch, he will start to lick and arrange your hair. If you have short hair, he will probably use his tounge because its easier for him. If you have long hair, he found out the hard way that grooming long hair is extremely difficult so he Justs uses his little paws instead. If you try and lick him back he will smack you with his paw before laying on you in the most annoying, inconvenient way
If you have a bag of marshmallows and a hungry grim, be prepared to make some home made roast marshmallows. I like the idea you introduce him to roasted marshmallows, he though marshmallows were mid but once you showed him the world of toasted marshmallows, he cant eat them without toasting them a little bit
If you come to twst as a chef or a Taylour, grim better be prepared to be either your little helper or your little test subject. If your a chef (and if Crowley actually gives you food for once) he will happily try and eat whatever you give him. I feel like he would love your food but like it abit on the burnt side, he eats rocks for heavens sake so i feel like he would like stuff more on the crunchy side. If your a clothing Taylour, he will begrudgingly agree to let you take measurements and use him to make little dresses, hats, ties, whatever you want. As long as you give him some tuna afterwards, he'll complain less
If you get gravely injured after a overblot or almost die during a fight, he would genuinely be so concerned and scared about loosing his henchman, you mean alot to him so seeing you bleeding and unconscious scares him. Once your allowed to go back to Ramshackle, he will honestly do his best to not cause trouble for you while you recover. If you have a broken arm, you are absolutely not allowed to hold anything around him, he will either carry them for you or make the first years carry your stuff instead. If you have a broken leg and need crutches, he will either sit on your shoulder and make sure no one gets close to you or he will walk along beside you and make sure you are not pushing yourself to far. He gets so protective of you while your recovering, he will make sure anyone that comes to help you keeps their distance, constant glares coming from him. He seems pissy but he is deathly afraid for you
Oh my lord, he will be absolutely heartbroken if you find a way back to your own world, your his best friend. If you manage to leave, I don't think he will be the same again. In a few years he will be alright but initially when you do leave, he is absolutely depressed. If he is willing to do absolutely anything to keep you here in twisted wonderland, he will break your mirror and blame it on one of the side characters, being there to comfort you while Crowley tries to find another way to send you home. Don't worry about why the mirrors are starting to break, grim is always there to comfort his Human
He likes to cuddle with you at night, he is basically a cat. He will either rest on your chest, will let you hold him in your arms while you lay in your side, rest underneath your armpit or curl up next to your neck. I love the head cannon that Grim is able to purr. When he is relaxed and cuddled up into your side, he will purr softly while he's dead asleep next to you. Dont mention this to him or he will try and stop it, he's a little embarrassed
he calls you "Human" "His Henchman"
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I love this little trouble maker, sorry if i did write him abit out of character.
Who should i do next?
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Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?
I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss
Gale
At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter
He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby
Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”
He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining
Shadowheart
As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure
shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings
Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off
Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again
Astarion
STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??
recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked
It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages
If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)
Wyll
He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to
when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered
He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns
Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)
Karlach
Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it
If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped
Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes
jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”
Lae’zel
She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything
But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised
Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.
Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.
Halsin
At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work
When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.
Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out
You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair
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lady-ashfade · 2 months
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Could I please have blueberry cookies with Jacaerys for hotd?
Made A Fool.
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´*: ・゚⋆˒ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader
Bakery Event - closed
╰・゚✧☽ summery: after the betrothal to the Prince Jacaerys, you thought it would be the happiest moments of your life given your years spent with him. Happiest is a sliver of what you feel, after he avoids your every move.
╰・゚✧☽ words: 2.2k
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: Luke never dies, rhaenryas miscarriage is mentioned, angst, jace being dick, jace accusing you because he’s jealous, betrothal, angst with a happy ending, readers family being near the Starks and long family friends, arguing.
⤻ I got carried away so this is longer then it should be.
˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚ 🍪 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚
During your young years at dragon stone, you found yourself becoming great companions with the princess’s sons. Rhaenyra took you into her home with open arms, she raised you like her own when your mother was a sea away. But her eldest son was easily the most precious thing you come to love, it started out when he gave you flowers— actually weeds— but pretty nonetheless and warmed your heart like dragon fire.
The both of you glued to each others side as the years went by, no one could deny the smiles and laughs you’d share like nothing else matter. Jace was a gentle man, held no grudge or power over you for being born a woman, even encouraged you to learn the sword with him. His blood was of the dragon so he had tendencies to be hot headed and rash when angered. All it took was the gentle touch of your fingertips on his cheeks to calm the dragon within him. Though, you two never knew of each others true feelings, he knew you cared very deeply for him.
“And what do you think of this?” Her grace looked softly at you, sitting down with a pained expression from the loss of the babe in her belly. The question of if you wanted the proposal to her eldest son, something your father wished for his loyalty to her claim. Throughout the years your father never mentioned that he even liked jace, in each letter sent he reminded you that your only duty was to the princess. So, you wonder is this had been his plan all along? A son for his daughter—Dragons for his grandchildren.
“Your grace, I ensure you that I did not come here for a marriage pa-” her smile and hushed laughter stopped you, and made your head tilt in confusion. Rhaenyra ran her hands along her lap, something was amusing to her and made embarrassment sit restless inside you. “I know, sweetgirl. There was never a doubt you were here for this, you care for my boys and me, that much is very clear.” her words made you relived. Her hands moved to the cushion beside her to signal you over. “Join me,”
You obeyed her wish and walked over nervously, the conversation to come was running in your mind of every way this could go. She didn’t see you fit for her son—not good enough. Or even worse, could call you greedy for being her only for her sons even it wasn’t the truth. Everything was spinning as you took your place next to her. “What I asked was if you wanted this marriage? I am forever grateful for you and your family and the support for the war to come, I will agree to the betrothal— but I believe you should have a say in this.”
Gulping the spit in your mouth to cover the butterflies in your throat you stare for a second to get the right words in your head. Jacaerys was the love of your life for years, your own prince from the story books told to young girls. To imagine actually get to be betrothed to him was a dream come true but also a nightmare to convey out loud. “My queen, I will do my duty if you wish.” You picked at your nails while avoiding her gaze. The queen reached her hand to caress your cheek, while turning your head to face her. There was no greater feeling then her soften gaze, “Do you want this? You’re answer will never hurt me.” and you knew you couldn’t refuse the offer because it made your heart happy.
“Yes, Your Grace. I would be pleased to marry Jacaerys.”
The announcement pleased the court of men, knowing your family’s army wouldn’t bend the knee to aegon, even though jace smiled at you- he walked to the other side right after and began to ignore you. Of course, you put it off as his duties were more important and he meant no offense. As men pushed your house piece along the board, giving your impression of what your father wanted, jace kept his eyes off you as you spoke. And you knew he could feel your staring. Again, at dinner while you took your place beside him— his attention was anywhere but on you. This didn’t go unnoticed by only you, his brother Luke happened to think it strange. He was always all over you and now he can’t spare you one look?
Luke decided to save you from feeling lonely and embarrassed so he decided to turn on his charm, something you always thought was adorable about the boy. He would whisper some jokes only for your ears, and as your cheeks flushed red from the wine served he finally asked you to join him for a dance. Though the dinner was small, and in the middle of a war- it was still a celebration of alliance. Decided to dance with Luke, you had a fun time and forgot about jace for a while. This was supposed to be a good day, so you’ll have to push yourself. Luke was like a brother to you, so it was easy to be entertained by him.
The absence of jace brought you down, it’s been a few days since you two actually had a conversation, or he’d actually look at you without someone else expecting him to. Yes, you understand the war at hand, and how much needs to be done and you can’t have his attention all the time. But he made no efforts to speak with you, or acted like he used to—Acted like your future husband. That’s what sprouted anger within you, and you were annoyed and snapped easily.
“My men with have a easier time rallying in the north, my letters to Cregan-” the words cut from your mouth when jace interrupted. His jaw tighter and a harsh glare made it harder to not burst into a screaming match. He had been giving attitude to his mother with the same expression. He hadn’t looked at you in weeks and this is what he was doing?
“You sent letters to Cregan? Why? I visited him nearly days ago,” his voice raised and made everyone in the room look back and forth wonder if they should cut in. “He offered graybeards.”
You roll your eyes at him, “The Starks have been my friends with my family for years, I convinced him to lend a few, young men. No old bones, no offense my lords, but men with stranger arms.” The way he was looking at you, you’d been dead. Many years you saw him angry, annoyed and ready to fight anything that crosses him. Never did you think you’d be on the end of his temper.
“Tell me, how exactly you persuaded him?” everyone could tell he meant nothing well by his accusing statement. You huff and get ready to comment when Rhaenrya placed and hand on your shoulder while Luke got in Jaces vision of you. “And I thank you for that, any swords are welcome.” She rubbed your skin and moved her head towards the door, allowing you to leave as you were visibly upset. Excusing your leaving, Jace watched you leave and turned his whole body. He couldn’t shake the feel inside when the meeting continued and didn’t speak a word, his thoughts only on you.
Jace marched through the halls with haste to your chambers, he saw no reason to knock so the door opened with him already flaring his nostrils. The surprise of the door opening with forced and quickly made you jump from your table, the ink dropped onto your skin from the quill in your hand dropping as you stood up from the chair. “What’s the meaning of this? You can’t just-” Jace walks towards you, making you back up at his pace.
“Me? It’s I who should be asking same question, what in the seven hells was that? Back in the war room?” he yelled at you. You stood only a few steps away and could practically could feel heat from him caused by his seething anger.
“What, are you accusing me of starting it? I simply stated my opinion with my houses army. You couldn’t handle me disagreeing with you?” You head twists and turn with your words, and eyes look all over the room.
He groaned and his eyes darkened, he stood closer to yell in your face. “I have a problem with my betrothed making it known she sends letters to another man. You must want me to look a fool. Have you and him been sending letters for years?” your mouth drops in disbelief at his ignorance words, “He told me he only could give old men, but you somehow convinced him to give us more? Has he declared his love for you, do you swoon in the letters for him?”
“You idiot, you think you have the right to ask me- To think that of me?” You push his chest back away from you, then walk away with a annoyed laugh.
Standing with your hands arching your back on your hips, you look back at him, “It has been you who ignores me frequently, pasted nights without a word from you other then small formalities.” rubbing the skin on your forehead, you breath heavily. “All I have done is be there by your side, never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. I’d think you’d at least honor that, but somehow you hate the thought of marriage to me so much you pretend I cease to exist.” only now was he knocked off thoughts when your eyes became slightly glossy. Jace couldn’t tell if it was in sadness or anger, or both.
“So no, Your Grace. If you speculate I ever did anything to make Cregan think he’d fight for me, or give him the idea I wanted him. You’d be deadly wrong. Because I have spent years hoping, that one day, you’d care about me that same why I do for you.” turning around to hide the tears escaping, you grab the chair to calm yourself down. He deserved no tears from you or to see you broken, so you had to collect yourself before him.
Brown orbs stares at the back of your head, arms wanted to reach out and comfort you like he did before. Jace never meant to make you feel like this nor that he hates the idea of being with you, romantically. The one things he could never truly show was weakness and when he heard you’d be his, that’s all he felt. Knowing that his enemies would target you. That if you were in trouble you and hurt? It would be his fault.
“Seven hells,” he whispered and tugged at the skin own lips. “Forgive me, for being a jest. I never thought about how you would feel.” straightening yourself and whipped off the tears from your cheeks, you keep your eyes on the wall ahead with your back still turned.
“This betrothal…It brings me joy. From a little boy I have always thought you were a beauty, wanted to fight for your attention against my brother.” the memory of his youth made him smile, “I thought that if I distance myself from you— You’d be safer from the dangers from the greens. I would die if something happened to you just because I love you.”
Spinning around towards him, your brows frown, “You love me?” he nodded his head.
“I do. I have since our youth when you loved the flowers i brought you, even though you knew it was weeds, but you put them into your hair, and placed the prettiest behind my ear.” he admitted. The distant laughter filled both of your minds of that wonderful day, the same day you had also fallen for him.
“You have a strange way of showing it.” You mocked with a growing smile. Jace was hesitant to walk closer, he was unsure if you wanted him to after everything. Your eyes drew him close, and let him get so close that you placed your hand on his chest.
“I am at a threat with or without our marriage, let us face the dangers together. I don’t want either of us to be alone.” taking his heated cheek into your palm, you looked into his eye’s wishful for him never to pull away. The touch was simple, but it had him caving underneath you and wanted more. Licking his lips he stared at yours, hoping you would give him the consent to close the gap between the both of you. One small agreement of a nod he was pressing his lips against yours, his hands resting themselves onto your hips. First kisses are soft, gentle but he was passionate and a little edger to finally get his wish. His hold on you tightened protectively as if someone was threatening you in the moment.
Pulling away from the kiss, both your mouthes covered in wetness, and cheeks heated with hormones. “Are you sure cregan hasn’t declared anything for you? He’d be a fool if not-” you took his lips onto yours to shut him up and his playful jealousy.
A dragon protects what is theirs, and as his future queen consort, he was nothing if not overprotective over you.
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cursingtoji · 1 year
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11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK
One Bed + Hate Sex
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⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™
note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy
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“It's been a while” Satoru greets.
One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.
After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.
You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.
“Indeed.”
The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right? 
“How've you been?” he asks politely.
“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.
“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.
“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.
“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.
Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.
The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.
“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.
“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.
“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.
“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.
“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.
“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.
“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.
“We'll take it” he says.
“Wait, just one?” you intervene.
“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”
“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.
“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.
“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.
“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.
Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.
“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.
Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.
“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.
“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.
“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.
Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.
Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.
> did you arrive well? Xx
Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?
Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.
“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.
“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.
“Who’s he? Huh?”
“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.
“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.
“None, get off of me”.
“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.
“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.
“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.
“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.
Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.
Fuck, he missed you so much.
You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.
You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.
“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.
Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.
“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”
Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.
“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.
Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.
“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.
“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.
“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.
“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.
“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.
You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.
“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.
“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.
“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.
“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.
“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.
You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.
“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.
“What was that?”
“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.
“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.
You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”
“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.
“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning while a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.
“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice.
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see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love
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teojira · 28 days
Text
[Click Click Boom] [Shadow x Reader short stories]
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Summary: You're set to be Shadow's companion to keep an eye on him and keep him in line, a courtesy from the goverment for him saving the world with Sonic and the others.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic! Shadow/reader romance is implied though! You're human in this, age is vague but you're meant to be in your 20s.
Disclaimer: Shadow is an adult, and as for the furry debate, he's literally an adult who can consent and is sentient, don't like? Don't read!
A/N: I've literally been obsessed with this fucker since I was a literal child and it's the first time I've written for him!! The trailer yas me going insane. This is written well before the movie has come out, literally all I got to work with is Shadow in the trailer and the bits and pieces of info I psychoanalized so I don't wanna hear shit about it not being accurate tbh, this is self indulgent!!
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Shadow isn't the worst task you've been assigned, you both are more akin to awkward roommates more than anything.
I'm talking randomly lingering in the corners of the room, his bright red eyes glowing and they always seemed to be locked right onto you.
You screamed the first dozen times, but now you just glare at the black hedgehog and spit out a "fuck you." and go about your business.
He'll never admit that it brings him infinite amusement, it's hard to tell, but the huff he lets out is evidence enough.
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Shadow will never admit he cares for you, he loses everyone he cares for, and humans don't live that long. It's terrifying to think about how much he's come to like you.
He's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is.
You're sitting down at the dinner table, typing away on your laptop, editing the mission report from the other day when Shadow makes his way towards you. Sending him a nod in his direction, you don't think of anything when he moves in close.
A huge slam takes you off guard though, jumping damn near out of your skin as you twist your head to look at him.
"What the fuck-"
"Take it."
It's one of Shadow's guns, his emblem being engraved along the stock.
"What? No, I have guns." You raise an eyebrow at the hog, his face is perfectly still, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to grab the heckler.
"Your guns are worthless, you need something better."
"Well excuse me, I so happen to like my guns." You try and joke back, but the offense is taken.
Shadow rolls his eyes so hard you're scared that he's gonna blind himself. Jutting his chin towards the table once more to get your focus back onto it.
"If you have one of mine, I know you're safe." He doesn't elaborate. Not that he needs to.
"...Thank you, Shad."
All you get is a grunt in response, and he's on his way back to his room.
Gingerly picking up the weapon, you take in how pristine it is, a thumb caressing your small initials that you missed on the other side of the stock.
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With Shadow saving the world, the reeking of havoc makes it to where he's limited to what he is allowed to do in the public eye.
Not that he listens, he isn't supposed to be out after curfew. But to be fair, it is extremely hard to keep a teleporting hedgehog confined to a meager two-story house.
You can hear him teleport above you, he's on the roofs of the nearby building, leering down at you.
It was a small errand you were on, simply stocking up on the essentials for the house.
Namely, snacks for Shadow, he doesn't ask for a lot other than coffee beans and Doritos.
You are choosing to ignore the fact that he eats the coffee beans straight up, the crunch echoes through your head and it sends a shudder down your spine.
He was adamant against you leaving the house this late, standing in front of the front door.
"No."
"Fuck you mean no?"
"I said no."
"....I don't listen to men."
And you weaved around him to leave the house, ignoring his shout of disapproval.
That leads you both to here now, you pretending you don't see him trailing you from the rooftops as you walk your way back home from the small shopping center.
You feign surprise when he opens the house door for you, begrudgingly sticking a hand out to help you with your bags.
"Oh! Thank you my knight in shining armor~"
"Shut it."
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He's never told you his birthday, which you can understand, living for 50 years and not having your family around must be hard. No matter how he may fake that it doesn't bother him.
That doesn't stop you, not in the slightest really. You damn near kick him out of the house for the day, shoving him over to Tom and Maddie's house so he can be with the others. Despite how much he protested.
"I don't want to go over there. Not with that blue fake."
"You don't really have a choice bub, I need you out of the house."
"I don't understand why I have to-"
"Keep arguing with me and I will make it a point to not buy you shit next grocery trip."
It's an empty threat, but he grunts nonetheless.
"...."
"That's what I thought."
When he finally gets home from his long and admittedly overstimulating day with the Wachowskis, he's ready to recharge in his room.
He teleports through the house door, sighing and rubbing at his temples as he moves to kick off his shoes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd chastise him for not doing so.
Something about tracking dirt and rocket fuel into the carpet.
Whatever.
After trying to massage his brain through his fur, he opens his eyes up to see a colorful banner strung across the mantle.
'Happy birthday!' It screams, in its disgustingly neon color palette.
Shadow wracks his brain for any information of it being your birthday, he knows for a fact it isn't today. A friend you're throwing a party for? Well, that makes no sense, he knows very well you don't have many friends, especially any that you'd invite your house up for.
You're antisocial to a fault, not that he has absolutely any room to talk.
He hears you before he sees you, turning the corner into the living room, carrying some balloons in your hands. A stupid little party hat on your head.
"Shadow! What are you doing back so early?"
Kicking off the last shoe, he stands at his full height, staring into your eyes with a shrug.
"I wasn't aware I had a time."
"....fair enough, anyways, fuck, goddamnit. Stay here. Okay?"
And you're off, running into the kitchen, his ears flick at the slamming of the fridge door, followed by the cabinets being no doubt, hip nudging it shut way too forcefully.
He's awkwardly standing there still until you yell for him to come in.
Shadow has half a mind to ignore you and go into his room, but curiosity kills the cat, so he takes in a deep breath and makes his way to you.
He finds you sitting at the little kitchenette, a nervous smile spread across your lips as you gesture to the plate in front of you.
The smell is apparent, it's a coffee cupcake.
The hedgehog feels his ears flick again, staring down at the desert, then trailing his eyes back to meet your own. Wordlessly asking you what was going on.
"You've never told me your birthday, but it's been a year since you've been here, with me. After the whole trying to destroy the world shit. So since you won't tell me, we can kinda treat this as it?" You keep rambling, eyes flitting around the room, very clearly nervous as to his reaction.
Shadow doesn't say anything, or move even. Just staring down at the cupcake.
It looks amateurish, the frosting is lopsided, and the toppings on it look messy. But you made it for him. You even added a big black "1" candle in the center.
He doesn't know what to say, he can feel heat rush through his body, rushing to his ears and his face, and his fur feels constricting.
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck.
You go to open your mouth again, no doubt to apologize, but he beats you to it.
Moving to scoop up the treat, he gently sniffs it before taking a cautionary bite.
A beat passes between the two of you.
"...it's good."
Shadow does his best to ignore the smile that blooms across your face, not wanting to remember just how pretty he finds you like this.
Disgusting.
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Shadow doesn't like touch, you know it, he knows it, and everyone knows it. He's threatened to break Sonic's wrist for even so much as patting the older hedgehog on the back. Baring his sharper fangs and hissing out to not touch him ever.
He avoids group hugs from Team Sonic, avoids Tom and Maddie like the plague, dodging every invitation to be a part of the family, it makes him sick to think about it.
With you, it's a little different.
You're not like them, you don't push him to change, you don't have a problem with how closed off he is, giving him space, never once pushing his very strict boundaries.
Something churns in his chest at the sound of you crying in your room, you probably think you're being incognito, holding a pillow to your face to drown out your sobs.
The internal debate is heavy, Shadow used to be able to comfort, to provide warmth, but he hasn't done so in years. Flashes of memories where he would comfort Maria on her bad health days, letting her run her fingers over his quills, to lend an ear to Gerald when he was frustrated about treatments not working.
It's not to say he is replacing you in their place, but it's scary. To open himself up like that again. He can feel his anxiety rising as he goes over the pros and cons of crossing this line. Eyes squeeze shut forcefully as he tells himself he doesn't care about you, that you're an adult, and you don't need to be babied.
His ears twitch when a pathetic little whimper drops from your lips, and his resolve cracks.
You don't look up when he makes his way in, too stuck in your bubble.
Startling a little when two, much stronger and larger hands grab at your own, peeling them away from the pillow. Your puffy bloodshot eyes looking at the hedgehog in front of you, his face set as it usually is, stoic. But his eyes are different, and his body language is different, when has he ever looked at you so softly? It's jarring.
Oh, he's moving closer. Okay. Weird.
"Shadow? Uh, I'm ok-"
You try and lie, it's a pitiful attempt. Your voice is scratchy and the tear tracks down your cheeks aren't helping your plight.
"No, you're not."
He shuts you down immediately, hands sliding up your arms to drag you into him.
The instant your bodies touch, you feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again.
Shadow has you resting against him, your head resting on him as he wraps himself loosely in your arms, giving you the space to move away if you so choose.
It's the first time he's allowed you to hug him, the first time he's ever initiated contact with someone in years. A fact that you both are well aware of.
A sob works its way up your throat, immediately tightening your grip on the hedgehog, curling into him as you shake.
Shadow doesn't say anything, doesn't make fun of you as snot pours from your nose, doesn't point out that your mascara and eyeliner are getting everywhere, just sits there and lets you cling onto him like he's your only lifeline.
He thinks that this is okay, he's strong enough for you both, and you don't need to worry when he's here.
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driaswrld · 10 months
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🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT
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LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *
🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.
🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.
🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog
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CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *
L'INCOMPARABLE.
Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.
Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.
Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.
Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.
“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.
“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.
“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.
Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.
“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.
Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.
At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.
It was a disastrous first few encounters—
(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )
His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.
Not around you, at least.
“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.
That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.
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THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.
Dearest gentle reader,
As all royal scandals do,
It started with an invitation.
We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].
This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.
What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!
Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.
But I assure you,
When it comes to matters of the heart —
Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.
You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.
And yet.
“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.
Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince
Is not the strongest.
“Some nerve you have, boy.”
Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.
You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.
And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.
“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”
Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.
You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.
No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.
“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”
You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.
“She will never be Queen.”
It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.
It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.
“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”
“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”
“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”
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Three months, thirteen days.
Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.
Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.
Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.
Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.
Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.
“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”
The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.
Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.
You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.
why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me
“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”
The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.
That, and the prize.
The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.
Gentle reader,
The famed jewel for the taking
This summer, is none other than—
“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.
It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .
Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.
“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”
( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )
“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”
She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.
There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.
A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.
—The champion’s jewel,
A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.
The L’Incomparable.
“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.
Three months, thirteen days.
You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.
He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.
It’s eerily similar to your childhood.
“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.
L’Incomparable.
The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.
Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.
A gift he only got to place on her corpse.
Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.
And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.
“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.
“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”
L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.
It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.
A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.
And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.
“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.
“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”
( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )
He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.
“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.
And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.
“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”
He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.
He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.
This urge—
( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )
The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—
( it will pass. )
“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”
Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.
Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.
He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.
“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”
( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )
There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.
And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.
As if you had never been there.
The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.
L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.
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Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.
You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.
Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.
It made you giggle.
The palace corridors are bustling with life.
Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.
Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.
“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”
“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.
Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.
Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.
“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”
You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.
His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.
“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”
You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—
“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”
You choke. Audibly.
Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”
“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.
Oh, fair reader, it seems
Our dear protagonist has come upon
A treasure trove of memories.
“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”
Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.
“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”
“Oh, about Prince Geto!”
Dearest reader,
Suguru Geto enters.
A man of great mystique,
the northern Prince.
And striking opposite of
our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.
“Yes! About him—”
Suguru Geto.
In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.
Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.
“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”
( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )
“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?
The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.
“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.
Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.
But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.
And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.
( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )
Faithful reader,
she could not have been
more wrong.
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Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.
Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.
You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.
Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.
This time, you’re taken aback.
Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—
There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.
Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.
But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.
It's almost intimate.
When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.
You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.
( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )
˚ ༘ *
The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.
When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?
Wait, why do you even care?
You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.
Darling reader,
it was in fact,
not the tea.
Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.
Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.
One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.
And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!
Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?
( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )
Devoted reader,
our protagonist
is in denial.
“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.
( oh god, no. )
Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.
“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.
“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”
The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.
You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.
He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.
You don't doubt that.
“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”
“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.
You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.
( oh, the gloves ! )
“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.
Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.
The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.
( what a coincidence. )
˚ ༘ *
Time passes in waves.
People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.
‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’
‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’
‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’
‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’
“Bitter.”
Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.
Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.
The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.
“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”
You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.
( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )
“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”
When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”
He looks. . . disheveled.
Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—
And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .
( so that's what he was doing. )
“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.
The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?
“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.
“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”
If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.
“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.
“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.
Marriage.
Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”
Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.
“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”
When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.
“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.
Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.
“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.
Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.
But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.
My dearest reader,
brace yourself for the
next publication.
Your kind author
bids you farewell.
2K notes · View notes
madwomansapologist · 6 months
Note
Hi, are you still looking for Baldur's Gate 3 requests? Could you please write something about the main BG3 Companions (+ our boi Halsin) with a Tav/reader who's really short and adorable and just an absolute sweetheart but is horrifyingly powerful in their lore? Like NPCs who know about them back away in fear kinda thing. Maybe Tav can even transform into some sort of battle form where they're like 9 feet tall (as opposed to their usual height of like 4' 10") and can absolutely kick ass on the battlefield?
Thanks so much, I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care!
bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav
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Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3
synopsis: Who could imagine such a sweet thing as you had the reputation of a hero?
warnings: companions (lae'zel, shadowheart, astarion, gale dekarios, wyll ravengard, karlach, halsin, jaheira) x tav. fluff.
note: thank you for your request! oh gods how i missed writing headcanons. i hope you like this, have a wonderful day!
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Lae'zel
Lae'zel knew your shared condition had a cure, and was willing to put herself in danger by taking the entire party with her to the nearest crèche. That being said, how couldn't she judge you?
You were too easy on everyone. Making promises you clearly shouldn't, taking them seriously despite her best efforts to put some sense in your head. The party was supposed to only stop walking when surrounded by githyankis, but no burdened tiefling or hurt animal escaped your careful gaze.
That you knew how to fight surprised her, but to see fear and admiration in the eyes of civillians... that made Lae'zel pay more attention to you. You had a reputation. Not as a writer, bard or patron. You're know for striking down your enemies.
Fighting at the goblin's camp, there were so many oponents even Lae'zel didn't knew if it would be her last fight. You saw it too, so you made sure to use everything you had to win. Even if you would rather not turn into an eldritch creature.
She got enchanted by your battle form. Steel and iron where nothing against the pure strenght of your skin. Whatever crossed your path that day suffered at your hands.
That was the first time Lae'zel got happy for being wrong about someone.
"Perhaps I've judged you too hard. You are fierce, foracious, as sharp as my sword and as brave as a red dragon. Keep on surprising me and a istik you'll be no more."
Shadowheart
Shadowheart couldn't care less about the tieflings and their problems, but it was endearing to watch you wandering throught the Coast in an attempt to ensure their safety. It was a sight she couldn't expect to observe in this journey, not when considering the worm twitching behind her eye and the artifact messing with their dreams.
Still, you could shut down her biggest fears with ease. While she tried to remain quiet, you were full of kind words to share with whoever was near. You care for all beings, great and small, and Shadowheart can respect that. A person without a truth to follow is empty, but one with a mission turns into so much more than just a walking corpse.
She focused on protecting you during fights. Always giving you some sort of magic shield, casting sanctuary, begging you to drink potions and elixirs that would keep you safe.
Goblins attacked, and for a second everyone was too surprised to react properly. Except by you. You were quick to defend your party, to fight for them, and won a fight no one was preparad to.
Shadowheart decided not to underestimate you again. Kind words, gentle actions, caring gaze: she was so focused on her own view about you that forgot to pay attention to the way everyone else saw you.
You're powerful. The kinda of powerful that their party had to be grateful that you were fighting besides them.
When you revealed your beast form to her, Shadowheart already knew you were a sight to behold.
"You are full of surprises, aren't you? Good. I like how you keep me on my toes, love."
Astarion
In theory, he should've been delighted with your personality. You were the perfect prey. A leader so sweet, he could change your mind at his will and you wouldn't even noticed. Others respect you. Astarion would be safe and sound.
But Astarion isn't capable of forgetting how easily you fought back when he tried to fool you. How he didn't even saw you moving, and was alone on the floor before he could understand what had hit him.
Instead of a person, you were a walking question mark. How can you be so sickenly adorable, and still so ready to strike down your enemies? Were did the sweet half of you finished and the other one started?
People know you. He saw respect in druid's eyes, fear when goblins heard your name. Halsin knew about you. And so did Minthara.
Few are able to live up to their reputation, but you're one of those. So strong, so brave, but your kindness wasn't ignored by him. It was as if in your head the whole world deserved your kindness, until it did no more. Only then you react.
Astarion don't know what to think about it.
When you attacked as a beast, tearing spiders apart as if they were a piece of meat in your plate, Astarion laughed until his belly ache.
How could be so right and so wrong about someone?
"Don't mind me, darling. I'm just rejoicing at the sight of your bloody hands. Come here. Let me taste your heroic mess."
Gale Dekarios
Gale learned two things about you when you pulled him out of stone: you were kind, and so damn strong.
You were adorable. A perfect equation between what people must do in order to survive and what they must do in order to live well. He can't see you not being surrounded by friends and admirers, all enchanted by your sweet words and rightful attacks.
He feared the party's reaction to the Orb, but a part of him knew you would let him stay. He never imagined you would give him magic artifacts without a second question, or that you would hug him after he told you his whole story.
You didn't let him go. Neither did Gale.
To say he was willing to agree with whatever you did was to say his heart beats. It was only natural. Maybe you both differ on the path you want to take, but the destination is usually the same.
When he saw you feral, body changing to give space to something else, Gale wondered if he was one of those enchanted people surrounding you. If he wasn't fighting for his life, Gale would gadly gaze upon you for the rest of the day.
"Disgusted? I was unable to look away from you! You are the one I love, no claws or tentacles will ever change that. Must I add, my love, your light remains strong in whatever form you decide to use."
Wyll Ravengard
To say the least, he's a fan. Oh, how lovely are the tales of your adventures through Faêrun. He remember arguing with bards about the accuracy of their versions and the reason behind their choice of words. You were what a hero must aim to.
How long were the nights he spend wandering after he was casted out of Baldur's Gate. Lonely nights, but never silent. Wyll's mind fought against itself. He lost everything to help and protect others. Sometimes he worried if he had lost himself too.
Your tales weren't his salvation. None of them shut down those voices that insisted on telling him about the mistakes he made, neither did them shut Mizora. But they inspired him. If you did all those things, remained human even as a beast, he could survive a talkative cambion. Wyll Ravengard can defeat her by staying loyal to himself.
Wyll didn't had to hear your name to know you were fighting next to him, defending the grove against goblins and worgs. He saw enough drawings of you to recognize you from miles afar. When you asked him to be a member of your party, Wyll felt as if a million fireworks exploded inside his chest at the same time.
He did felt anger and pain because of the tadpole, but never fear. Fighting beside you, Wyll knew he didn't had to fear for his future. And after seeing how willing you were to argue with multiple cambions, he started to have hope.
"I used to read about legends, myths of bravery and rightousness. Some see it as just tales for the naive. Thank you, my heart. For proving them wrong time after time."
Karlach
She's the only one with an excuse for not knowing who you are. When strangers call you by your entire name, when companions use your epithet: Karlach just never thought about it. She ignored it, paying no mind to others.
But Karlach did knew you were a absolute sweetheart. What you didn't had of height you compensate with a gigantic personality. For her, the way you behaved was simply alluring.
While many prefer to think the world is a bad place and no one living there can chose to be or do better, you are just another reason for her to know that it's bullshit. Because Karlach is good, despise it all. And Wyll. And you.
And Minsc!!!
You had a fire on you whenever you had to fight. She didn't need to know your story to see how great you can be. Some people just have that. She don't know if that fire is born or forged, but some people just have it.
To see you as a beast made her the most happy woman in Faêrun. She got speechless, all she could do was laugh and run around to have a better view of you ending the Steel Watch.
"You got 'em, soldier! Go on, bite his arm off! You see that monster over there? The one with glowing eyes. That's the love of my fucking life."
Halsin
He saw you before. Druids and harpist fought against sharrans, and you were one of the heroes who joined their cause. At that time Halsin didn't talked to you, but he knew you fought until the very end and stayed to help with the infirm.
When you rescued him, Halsin knew you remembered him too. There was some understanding between you both, a companionship that only those who foght together can share.
He knew you were a hero, one of those who fight wars that don't affect them because someone needs too, but your personality was a good surprise. Halsin haven't imagined you so easy going. Always offering smiles, light jokes, being clumsy without a care when danger was far away.
After the battle against sharrans, he thought those who refered to you as a monster were trying to make others understand how eficient you were. It surprised him to see they were just being honest.
Nothing would stop Halsin from turning into a bear and joining you.
"In this damned city, you are a beacon of hope. The Oak Father graced us with your light. From your fiece strikes to your honey soaked words... I am lucky to live at the same time as you, my love."
Jaheira
As a fellow adventurer, it surprised Jaheira that you weren't already tired. You both lived for so long, did so much, it would be only natural for you to give a pause on your endless smiles and envied patience. She was wrong, but that wasn't a bad thing.
Jaheira knew how this life can steal things from you. Peace feels like a threat, to stop make you feel like a prey, to laugh makes you wonder if it will be the last time. Is impossible to be a hero without losing. She's glad you didn't lose yourself in your path.
There was an unspoken pact between you both. The stories, the songs, the faux memories. So many think to know everything about you two. Sometimes Jaheira will read you a book you're in when she knows it's a shameless lie, and you sing her songs about adventures she did not lived.
Your laugh could make her feel younger. Alive. You both were so differents, but knew each other in a way few could.
Whenever you chose to strike as a monster, she would join you as a myrmidon and had her fun. You both deserve it.
"I did well not underestimating you, cub. It is impossible not to laugh at those who can't see how your bright smile hides sharp fangs. As pretty as a diamond, and as fierce too."
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if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies
@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.
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yandereunsolved · 2 months
Note
Bae you know how Seasmoke claimed Addam? How about an isekai reader getting claimed by The Cannibal?
Targaryans to Cannibal: I shall claim you as my dragon!
Cannibal: *spits out fire at their direction in anger*
Reader getting their ass isekai'd to a very dangerous world that had their paranoia spill the chart with a dragon, Cannibal, claiming them: BACK! BACK I SAY YOU BEAST! BACK! I DON'T TASTE GOOD!
Cannibal: *choices the weirdly dressed human that appeared out of nowhere as its companion* *growls*
Reader in panic: Don't growl at me you overgrown lizard! My sleep schedule is fucked and I can't even take care of myself! What makes you think I can-
Short human and temperamental dragon in a nutshell
Sweetheart, yes.
The targaryens are just incredibly confused that such a gigantic dragon is following around a person they have never seen. The poor thing. Reader can't even get away from The Cannibal.
They just nudge reader and huff angrily, burning anyone who gets near reader.
Reader is just like: "No! We do not kill villagers. Bad Cannibal. >:("
The Cannibal is like "okay momma/poppa. 🥺"
Reader is now going to have to deal with a yandere Team Black & Green.
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dollfacefantasy · 10 months
Text
Baby Bunny
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader
summary: leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, breeding kink, daddy kink
word count: 3.8k
a/n: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but let's go with it. again, thank you everyone for reblogging and commenting, it means the world to me <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld
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In his personal life, Leon never wanted to be depended on. That was his job. He didn’t want that stuff following him home. He didn’t want to be tied down, to be responsible for someone like that. People depended on him in Raccoon city and look how that turned out. Every mission he’s been on for the last few years, he’s responsible for someone. It’s exhausting.
But as he nears 30, he starts to look at it differently. An aching sense of isolation grows in his heart. He starts to think about what it would be like having someone, having a companion of some sort. Suddenly, he’s not looking at being relied on as a detriment. Being depended on means having someone to care for, someone to love. There would be someone at the end of long days and the starts of his currently lonesome nights.
That’s how he finds himself with you scampering around his house. The sweetest little thing he’d ever seen. Your long floppy ears, cute little cottontail, those big sweet eyes. From the moment he saw you, he was a sucker for all of it.
A while back he had briefly heard of human-animal hybrids, but he didn’t think much about it. It didn’t really apply to him. If anything, the idea weirded him out a bit.
That was until he started thinking more about his dilemma. It seemed like one of them might be a good solution. He talked to a few people and did some online research and decided to at least look into it. It couldn’t hurt to visit an adoption center right?
He visited the place and was still a little freaked by the whole concept. He walked through the rooms, watching different hybrids move about and mess around. The lady guiding him throughout asked him different questions, trying to decipher what type of hybrid would best fit his needs. But all of her questions were irrelevant as soon as he spotted you.
You were undoubtedly the one. His baby bunny. Not only did he not want any other hybrid, but he didn’t think he could physically leave that place without talking to you at the very least.
He walked over to you cautiously. You kept to yourself, and he could tell from your body language alone how timid you were. He spoke with the softest, most soothing tone he could manage, but you were still so shy.
You’d told him your name so quietly he could barely hear. He didn’t touch you at all, fearing you may cry at something that personal. But he kept talking to you because while others may have found it challenging, he could see you fitting right in with him.
You’d be dependent, sure, but clearly you wouldn’t be overly needy for affection. It would be a good way for him to transition from being alone into having someone.
He kept getting to know you and trying to get through some of your walls. He talked with you about all sorts of things and let you ask your own questions so you could get to know him. By the end of the day, you hesitantly allowed him to stroke your ears.
It was that exact day he told you that he was interested in you coming to live with him. You were still very reserved, but you seemed receptive. You did a little trial run over the course of a week, and just as Leon thought, you were a great fit.
You had grown more comfortable with him in the months since that week even though your core personality hadn’t changed. You were still generally quiet, never asking for much and being appreciative of whatever he gave you. You’d talk with him openly now, mostly responding to him rather than starting conversations but speaking nevertheless. You slept in your own room, but as soon as you woke up, you’d come find him to hang out. It was a nice balance with you.
But Leon still wanted a little more. He would never push it on you, knowing it would make you withdraw again, but he always cherished the moments of progress with you. You warmed up enough that you came around to enjoy cuddling. Leon couldn’t believe how soft he’d become when you curled up to his side and tucked yourself under his arm. The first time you fell asleep in his embrace, he loved it so much he felt chest pains. Once or twice, he’d gotten you to fully sit on his lap, and he couldn’t stop beaming.
He could give you little kisses on your face now, and you’d give him a sweet smile in return that he couldn’t get enough of. You’d never kissed him yourself, but you would nuzzle his cheek in return which was enough to make him happy.
You were just such a sweetheart, a perfect companion for him. You didn’t complain when he had to go to work, but it wasn’t like you didn’t miss him. He could see the way your ears would slump and your eyes would dim as he gathered his stuff and headed for the door. But you also got so happy when he came back. You tried to seem as subdued as possible, but the way you lit up again in his presence was obvious.
The only thing you were still completely closed off about was when you went into heat. Leon understood what it was, he had been nervous about it since bringing you home, but he had no clue about how you dealt with it at all. Every time it happened, you’d shut yourself up in your room for however many days it took, and then return to him as if nothing had happened.
For your sake, he played along. He got the sense it was a touchy subject after bringing up the possibility of getting you some more toys for it and having you immediately shut it down. Your voice had become higher pitched with defensiveness, and your eyes wouldn’t meet his for the next few hours.
He had only wanted to help, but he couldn’t tell you why. Couldn’t tell you that your desperate moans kept him up at night when they echoed down the hall. Those broken whimpers that made it sound like you were crying, so worked up and in need of release that it brought you to tears. 
He also couldn’t share how it made his cock rise to attention. How those pretty little noises had him fucking his fist, other palm covering his mouth to muffle his grunts, searching for relief of his own. His precious baby bunny didn’t need to know all of that.
Today had been a long day. He was tired after dealing with all the bullshit that came with his job. Although, unlike in months prior, he wasn’t all doom and gloom driving home. The thought of his sweet girl at home waiting for him by the door kept his spirits somewhat up as he made the commute back.
To his surprise, you weren’t in the living room like normal. He walked through the room cautiously, a little on edge from the disruption to his routine. He goes into the kitchen and still doesn’t find you. He starts to walk to the back of the home and that’s when he hears something. Those soft, needy sounds of pleasure.
His eyebrows raise, but he continues walking. As he gets closer, he realizes something that adds another level of shock to this situation. The noises were coming from his room.
At this point, he was more concerned than anything else. He makes his way down the hallway to his room and slowly opens the door, cracking it open to peek inside.
His eyes widen as he sees you on his bed. You’re kneeling, doubled over though so your face is in the blankets, his pillow between your legs, and your hips rocking back and forth violently. You’re nude from the waist down, only wearing a shirt of his. One of your fists is clutching the blankets while you keep your face shoved against them in a weak attempt to muffle those cute noises.
His jaw goes slack at the sight. He wills himself to remain calm and not succumb to some of his own primal urges. He carefully steps into the room, trying to be quiet even though he couldn’t see a way to not startle you with his presence.
“Baby…” he says, using the most gentle voice he could manage.
You shoot up in bed, now kneeling vertically. Your eyes are wide like you’ve had the fright of your life, your expression clearly horrified that he’d caught you like this. And even though he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice that despite your reaction, your hips don’t stop rutting against the pillow.
“Daddy!” you gasp.
That short circuits his brain. He pauses for a good five seconds to grapple with what you just said. You’d never called him that before. Not that he minded necessarily… but it still gave him whiplash.
His reaction seems to cause you to realize what you had just blurted out. In the blink of an eye, you go from visibly horrified to completely mortified. Your eyes fill with tears as you whimper out “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”
Oh god, and now you’re crying. Leon was still silent as he tried to keep his composure, force the heat building inside of him to cool off before he approached you. Looking at you though, that sweet face with tears leaking down those round cheeks… It made him want to bounce you on his lap till you were crying for a whole other reason.
“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he reassures you as he walks to the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on your face. “Is it… Are you in heat?”
“Yes,” you say, tone dripping with shame. You bite your lip and try to restrain any further whimpers. Your hips were slowing down but still moving. After a few moments though, another wave of choked cries erupt from your throat and more hot tears of humiliation slide down your skin. Your hands fly up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s ok,” he says softly. He cautiously takes your wrists and pulls them away from your face. He takes one of your hands in his, soothingly rubbing the back of your palm. You whimper at the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s ok, honey. I’m not mad. You can’t help it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”
You look into his eyes with your tearful gaze. Your breathing was a little ragged from crying, but it seemed like he was calming you down slowly. You nod with uncertainty, waiting for him to make the next move.
He was also unsure of what to do. This was so unlike you, he’d never seen you this emotional for one, but he’d also never expected to see you in this position. And the entire time your hips were still grinding on that pillow, back and forth like a pendulum.
“Is it more intense this time?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle to not upset you again.
“I guess,” you whimper, “I just… I wanted you.”
It pained him to see you so uncomfortable and stressed out. He wanted you to be able to come to him with these types of things, to trust him with yourself when you’re in your most vulnerable state. It was clear that you desired that too, to some degree. You were in his room, humping his pillow, wearing his shirt.
“Well… I’m right here, baby. I want to help if I can. If you want me to,” he says.
Your skepticism is written all over your face. But you needed this even if you were a little nervous. He pats his lap encouragingly, and that’s the final push you need to let go of the pillow and crawl into his lap.
“There’s my baby bunny. Sweet girl,” he says softly as he gets you situated. He peppers a few tender kisses on your head and strokes your back.
You had only been there for a few seconds, but your hips were already squirming.
“What do you need, baby? Just tell Daddy, and you can have it,” he whispers. The title rolls off his tongue as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It had caught him off guard when you said it, but after it rattled around in his head for a bit, it took root. Now, he just wanted to hear you say it again.
You whimper, looking at him through your lashes with those sweet eyes. At this point, you were all but riding his thigh. There’s a pause as you decide how to articulate your desire.
“I need… I need you,” you offer timidly.
“I know that, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “Try to be more specific for me. Daddy only wants to know so he can help you. Give you exactly what you need.”
He reaches up and cradles the back of your head, bringing you in to rest it on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around you and rubs your back. He holds  you as close as he can to give you that physical reassurance he knew you longed for in your condition.
You still hesitate, obviously working up your will to explicitly state your cravings.
“I want Daddy inside, wanna be bred,” you whimper, turning your face against his shoulder to hide your eyes. Your whole head felt hot with the weight of what you said. It was almost dizzying, but he swoops in with his cooing voice and gentle praises to keep you together.
“Poor baby,” he croons, “I don’t know how you handled this alone for so long, honey. That’s so unfair to you, all these big feelings you had to work through by yourself. So frustrating.”
You knew he was being excessively caring now, but you had no complaints. The loving cadence of his voice made your mind melt. All you could do is whimper and nod against his shoulder.
“You could’ve come to Daddy anytime you wanted. I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny, especially not about this,” he says, kissing your head and giving your ears a few loving strokes.
“I know. I’m sorry,” you say.
“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. I’m here now. We’re gonna fix it. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he says.
He shifts you around a little so he can slide his pants down and free his hard cock. Your curious eyes dart back to his face after a quick look at the flushed tip and the veins spanning the shaft.
“You ready?” he asks softly.
“Mhm, need it,” you whimper in return, helping him get your hips into position.
He lowers you on to his cock. Both of you let out hushed noises of pleasure as the sensation strikes pleasure within you. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips as he slides further into you. Your arms tighten around him and your eyes already start to flutter at the snug fit.
You whine and babble out some nonsense when you’re finally flush against him. His cock twitches inside of you.
“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. You could hear the tension in his own voice from exerting so much restraint. “You feeling any better?”
“Little bit, need more Daddy,” you mewl.
“Just give yourself a second to adjust, angel,” he grunts. You were pulsing around him, making it harder for him to not let go. 
But it seems you’re feeling the same way. You shake your head in response to his words and start haphazardly squirming around, trying to move up and down while still in his hold.
“Need it Daddy,” you whine, “Can’t wait. Pretty please.”
Like he’d said, he couldn’t say no.
“If you’re sure, honey,” he says and loosens his grip, “Be a good bunny and bounce for Daddy.”
That’s all you need to hear before you’re bouncing up and down. Wet noises fill the room as your slick pussy takes him in and out. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the embarrassment fade and just feeling the pleasure running through you.
Leon focuses on helping you keep your balance as you ride him. His own belly was twisting with ecstasy as your heat engulfs him over and over.
“That’s it, good baby,” he grunts, “Keep going, honey. Get it all out.”
You whine and continue on, up and down, up and down. More cute noises spill from your mouth as the head of his cock nudges all the right places. You ramble on, mumbling things like “love my daddy” over and over.
“Daddy loves you too, sweet girl,” he says softly.
He notices you starting to cling and whimper more. You were still riding, but your rhythm was becoming more awkward. You seemed more desperate even though you literally had him as close and as deep as physically possible.
He tries to help and do more of the work. He pulls you in close again and holds you against his body. Your face is pressed to his neck while he rubs the back of your head. His hips start to do the majority of the thrusting, bucking up into you fervently.
More incoherent strings of words escape you as you melt into his chest. You press a few sloppy kisses to the base of his neck. Despite him taking over, you were still being whiny and squirmy. He knew you were in discomfort, but it should be getting better, right?
“What is it, babydoll? What else do you need?” he coos.
Your head falls back and a sound of general pent up frustration escapes you. Your hips roll into his thrusts in large, needy movements.
“It’s not enough,” you cry, almost near tears from the ache between your thighs, “Need you more. Closer. Need it.”
You tug at his arms trying to get him to wrap them tighter. There wasn’t much Leon could do though. You were already as close as possible, any closer and you wouldn’t be able to move, which he was sure wouldn’t go over well with you. He felt so bad for you though. His sweet baby bunny suffering like this.
He watches you, your weak attempts at getting yourself off by rising and falling on his lap. He can’t take watching you struggle like this. Doing the only thing that could think of, he boosts you up and quickly flips you over.
You’re now pinned beneath him. His toned body is all over yours, heated skin pressed to you in every way. He spreads your arms out and holds your wrists down. His hips are against yours. He’s just grinding into you now, not even pulling out with his thrusts. He was as deep as possible. If this wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what else to do.
“How’s that, pretty girl? Is that how my baby bunny wants it? Wants Daddy nice and deep, ready to spill his cum and breed her cute pussy,” he breathes.
You nod eagerly, eyes rolling back at the relief you felt. This is what you needed. Feeling his weight on top of you, unable to move anywhere else.
“Mhm, this is what you need, sweet baby. You’re gonna take every last drop. Gonna keep it all in to make sure it takes too. If any leaks out, that just means I’ll have to fuck it back in. We’ll just have to go as many times as we need to,” he groans.
“Yes Daddy. Wanna take it all. Gonna be full of your cum for days,” you whimper.
“Yeah you will be. I think that’s what I’ll do from now on. Whenever my baby bunny goes into heat, I’ll have to stay home, make sure to keep you in bed, keep you plugged up full of Daddy at all times. That pretty little head won’t have to think about anything but being bred,” he says.
You just nod again, unable to get proper words out at the minute.
“I feel you squeezing, sweetheart. You getting ready to cum for Daddy?” he coos and reaches up to stroke your ears. He hikes your thighs up more, giving him a deeper angle to drive into you with. You gasp from the change, and your noises get higher as he rams in as much as he can without it being painful.
“Daddy!” you cry out. It’s all you can say. You had more, but it could only come out in the form of that one word right now. He’s all that was on your mind. Daddy daddy daddy.
“Yes, baby. Yes. Daddy’s here. Gonna fill you full of cum and then love on you for the rest of the night,” he purrs, “My baby was so brave, dealing with this all by yourself. But doesn’t it feel so much better when Daddy takes care of you?”
“Mhm, mhm,” you agree quickly.
Your hips start bucking while your body spasms. Leon knew this was it.
“Good girl, baby. Cum whenever you want. Let it feel good baby, get perfect and tight,” he says.
You do just that. You let the release wash over you. You shudder and dig your fingers into his muscles as the feelings bubble over.
“My perfect little bunny,” he praises softly while watching you let go.
It’s not much longer until his cock his pulsing violently within you. He thrusts as hard and as deep as possible before letting out a loud groan and burying his face in your neck.
“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” he mumbles.
He spills it all inside you, hips twitching and arms locking around you. In the end, you’re both panting. He pulls back a little to kiss your forehead again. He looks down into your eyes.
“How’re you feeling now, sweet girl?” he asks softly.
“Better for now,” you answer. Your head starts to clear and return to its normal state.
He nods and kisses your head again. He rolls over onto his back, scooping you up against his chest while staying inside you. He rubs your back gently.
“You did so good, baby,” he whispers, “Now you see you don’t have to do that alone. You can trust me, sweetheart. I only want to help you. Keep you happy.”
You nod and look up at him lovingly.
“If this is what you need, this is what you need. We can get through it together,” he says softly.
“Together,” you agree softly and scoot up slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.
He smiles big and holds you closer somehow. He leans in for another kiss and another. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.
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5 Crucial Questions to Ask When Hiring a Companion Caregiver
Companion care services help older individuals to live with dignity and independence in the golden period. However, choosing the right companion caregiver is essential to reduce the risk of memory issues like dementia or Alzheimer's disease. Start by asking the five essential questions before choosing a companion caregiver for your loved ones. Read on to know what these five questions are and how these questions help you in determining the right kind of caregiver for companion care.
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moonselune · 3 months
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Hey so I saw your ask with female companions and inexperienced tav and could you make one with male companions + Rolan and Raphael? I love your writing!
OOoooOOo yes yes and thank you so much nonnie!!!
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Gale:
In the candlelit corner of Gale’s tent, the areanwas imbued with an aura of warmth and intimacy. The flickering flames cast gentle shadows on the canvas, creating a serene ambiance that seemed almost magical. You stood near the edge of the bedroll, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your tunic, your heart pounding in your chest.
Gale noticed your apprehension immediately. His eyes, warm and understanding, met yours as he approached, closing the distance between you. He reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch comforting and reassuring.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm. “I understand how you feel.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your self-consciousness pressing down on you. “It’s just… your ex was a literal goddess,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “How can I possibly compare to her?”
Gale’s expression softened even further, a tender smile spreading across his lips. He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You are worth a thousand goddesses more,” he assured you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Mystra was a chapter in my past, but you… you are my present and my future.”
His words brought a rush of warmth to your cheeks, but the nervousness still lingered. Gale seemed to sense this and took a step closer, his body radiating calm and confidence.
“We’ll take it slow,” he promised, his voice gentle and patient “There’s no rush, no need to hurry. Take as longs you need and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender, reassuring kiss. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. Gale’s kiss was soft, patient, a promise of the tenderness and care he would show you that night. As he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered, his breath mingling with yours. “And remember, this is about us, about our love. Nothing else matters.”
His hands moved to your shoulders, gently guiding you towards the bedroll. Every touch, every kiss was filled with love and reverence, as if he was worshipping you with his actions. Gale’s patience and understanding made your nerves slowly dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of trust and intimacy.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
You stood near the bed of the inn room you had rented for the night, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, your heart beating wildly in your chest. Astarion, ever the charming and confident one, was watching you with an amused yet tender expression.
“You’re nervous,” he observed, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. “I must admit, I didn’t expect that.”
You glanced away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I… I’m just inexperienced,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “I thought… I thought you’d assume I was more experienced, considering…”
Astarion’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. “Considering how beautiful you are?” he finished for you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. When you shook your head, held a laugh of disbelief leaving your lips. Astarion stepped closer, his demeanor softening. "Or how cocky you act?"
You tried to pull away, embarrassed, but Astarion held you firmly, his grip gentle but unyielding. “Don’t shy away from me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a soothing whisper. “I didn’t expect this, but it makes me feel… honored, in a way.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. “Honored?”
He nodded, his expression serious yet tender. “This is my first time being with someone I truly love,” he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of vulnerability. “All my previous encounters… they were never about love. But with you, it’s different.”
Astarion’s confession took you by surprise, the raw honesty in his voice breaking down the last of your defenses. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.
“We’ll take this at your pace,” he promised, his breath warm against your ear. “I want you to feel comfortable, to feel cherished.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. A gentle exploration that made your heart flutter. Astarion’s touch was both confident and careful, his hands caressing your back in soothing strokes.
As he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. “Just trust me,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “We’ll make this special, together.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
Wyll stepped towards you, his eyes warm and understanding as he took in your worried form.
"Hey," he said softly, reaching out to take your trembling hands in his. "You don't need to be nervous."
You looked down, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "It's just… this is my first time," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't want to disappoint you."
Wyll's eyes widened in surprise, and then a soft smile spread across his lips. "Your first time?" he repeated, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and reverence. "Well, that makes this moment even more special."
His reaction caught you off guard, and you found yourself relaxing a little. "Really?"
"Absolutely," Wyll assured you, his cheeks turning a bit pink as he spoke. "I’m honored that you’d share this with me. Truly. And, um… I have to admit, I’m a bit flustered myself."
His honesty and the adorable way he fumbled with his words made you smile. The tension in your shoulders began to melt away as you realized that Wyll was just as nervous and excited as you were. He guided you gently to the bed, his movements careful and considerate.
"We’ll take this slow," he promised, his voice soft and reassuring. "I want you to feel comfortable above all else."
Wyll's touch was light and tender as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was sweet and gentle, filled with affection and care. He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes to make sure you were okay before continuing.
His hands moved to your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he kissed you again, this time with a bit more confidence. You found yourself responding, the nervousness giving way to a growing sense of trust and intimacy.
As the night progressed, Wyll's sweet words and gentle touches made you feel adored. He was attentive to your every need, his actions guided by a genuine desire to make this experience as special and loving as possible. Lying together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that Wyll was the perfect balm for your nervous heart. And in that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
The gentle glow of the firelight filled Halsin's quarters, casting a warm and inviting light over the room. You stood at the edge of the bed, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.
Sensing your nervousness, he approached slowly, his presence calming and reassuring, and if you weren't panicking you would poke fun at him for treating you like a spooked horse.
"You seem tense," he observed, his voice soft and soothing. "What's on your mind, my love?"
You bit your lip, feeling a wave of self-doubt wash over you. "It's just… you've had many lovers," you confessed, your voice trembling. "I don't know if I can compare to, well, any of them."
Halsin’s expression softened and he chuckled, reaching out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and tender. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Just being with you is more than enough," he continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone. I am more than happy to go slow, to make this moment special for both of us."
His words brought a sense of calm over you, easing the tension that was wrought in your body.
"Really?" you asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
"Really," Halsin assured you, his smile warm and genuine. "We will take this at your pace, with no rush. I want you this to good for you, wondrous even. Everyone deserves to feel the ecstasy that nature provides us.."
His hands moved with gentle care, exploring your body with a reverence that made you feel truly valued. He took his time, ensuring that you felt comfortable every step of the way. He had to confess, he was so used to sex being rather full on, that taking it slow was refreshing. The intimacy you shared warmed him in a way he hadn't felt before and by the time morning came, he could only wish he could just do it all again.
(You two did)
(Numerous times)
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Rolan:
The soft glow of candlelight filled Rolan’s chambers in Ramazith's tower, casting dancing shadows across the walls. You stood at the edge of the bed, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. Rolan, usually confident and self-assured, looked uncharacteristically awkward as he watched you, his eyes filled with affection.
He stepped closer, his usual bravado replaced by a tender nervousness. "So, um… you really haven’t done this before?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Yeah, it’s my first time," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just… I don’t want to mess it up."
Rolan let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Well, that makes two of us," he said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I mean, not that it’s my first time, but… you’re just… you’re gorgeous, and I don’t want to mess this up either."
His awkward honesty made you smile, and you felt some of your nerves start to ease. "You think I’m gorgeous?" you asked, feeling a bit more confident.
Rolan’s eyes widened, and he nodded fervently. "Of course! You’re amazing," he said earnestly. "I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you that for ages."
You stepped closer to him, feeling a sense of warmth spread through your chest. "I think you’re amazing too, Rolan," you said softly, reaching out to take his hand.
He looked down at your joined hands, his expression softening. "We can take this slow," he said, his voice gentle. "We don’t have to rush anything. I just want to be with you."
You nodded, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you. "I’d like that," you replied, your voice steady.
Rolan guided you to the bed, his movements careful and considerate. As you lay down together, he continued to speak softly, his words filled with affection and nervous excitement. His touch was gentle, his kisses sweet and sincere.
As the night progressed, Rolan’s nervousness seemed to melt away, replaced by a genuine desire to make this moment special for both of you. His awkwardness turned into endearing attentiveness, and you found yourself feeling more and more at ease.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Raphael:
The luxurious boudoir was dimly lit, a warm glow emanating from the ornate chandelier above. Raphael, ever the charismatic and smooth-talking devil, watched you with an intensity that made your heart race. Raphael stepped closer, his eyes filled with a smoldering affection.
"You’re nervous," he observed, his voice a soft purr. "Don’t be. You are a vision, and I’m honored to be your first."
You bit your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. "It’s just… this is all so new to me," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.
Raphael’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek. "You have nothing to fear, my love," he said soothingly. "I will take care of you. Tonight is about you, about us."
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You are worth more than all the treasures in the Nine Hells," he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. "I will go slow, cherish every moment with you."
His words brought a sense of calm over you, easing the tension in your body. "Really?" you asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
"Really," Raphael assured you, his smile warm and genuine. "I want to make this special for you. Every touch, every kiss, will be filled with my love for you."
He guided you gently to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. As you lay down together, he continued to shower you with words of affection and praise. His touch was light and tender, his kisses soft and lingering.
Raphael’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he spoke, "I intend to savor this, every moment. Corrupting such an innocent soul is a delight beyond measure."
You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful whack on the arm. "Raphael!" you scolded, unable to hide your smile.
"I jest, my love," He chuckled, a rich, warm sound that filled the room. Though you only half believed him. He was true to his word, however, and regardless of what Haarlep had told you he was a very generous lover.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
This was so so so so sweet to write I hope y'all enjoy it ! - Seluney xox
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