#Gift Ideas In A Long Distance Relationship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

highvern · 4 months

Text

Whatever You Like

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sex tape, oral sex, dacryphilia, spitting, anal play, facial, praise kink, manhandling, unprotected sex/creampie, dom/brat dynamics (sir kink), sex toys, double penetration, spanking/clit slapping, dad cheol

Length: ~ 6.1k

Note: any complaints can be directed to @bitchlessdino for thinking cheol would be the type to film an amateur sex tape. ceremonial mention of @gyuswhore for beta reading and encouraging this tom foolery. also @wooahaeproductions and @millennial-fangirl t agging @wonustars @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for more fun

summary: Your husband takes his birthday more seriously than anyone you know. When he's scheduled for a business trip across the country, forcing you two to celebrate apart for the first time in your entire relationship, you decide to get creative with his gifts this year. Can be read as a stand alone or a continuation of Freak Like Me!

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“I hate it,” your husband announces before collapsing on top of you.

Seungcheol is always pouting about something. He’s dramatic by nature, a classic whiner. He does it for attention. Your attention.

It is a business trip out of the country for two weeks. He hates it because his birthday is in the middle of it.

Since the dawn of your relationship, birthdays are spent naked in bed for hours followed by fancy dinners and gifts (despite your objection he’s all you need) and more domestic love making that left both of you sore for days.

This will be the first birthday in eight years you’ll spend apart. And with how serious Seungcheol takes his birthday, it’s more devastating than the six months you spent long distance after college.

“I know, baby,” you coo. “We can celebrate when you get home though. Go to that steakhouse downtown you like.”

“But I want to spend it with you. I always spend it with you.” He shivers as you rake a hand through his hair, nails scratching just right to make him weak.

“One birthday isn’t gonna kill you. Promise.”

“You don’t know that. People die of broken hearts all the time.”

“Oh my god,” you snort. “I’m not leaving you, you’re going away for two weeks. On a promotion trip you begged for.”

“What if I became a trophy husband?”

“You’re too bougie for that. We’d end up homeless.”

All of his complaints prove he’s unaware of your scheming. The second he shared the news, you set to work.

The guest list for a surprise barbecue two days before he flies out is confirmed; custom cufflinks he’d been planning to buy himself tucked away under extra sheets in the guest room; white lingerie that’ll remind him of your wedding night already in the mail, set to arrive while he’s gone to enjoy upon return.

But there’s one thing for him to take on his trip. A consolation prize for missing each other on one of the most important days of the year (tied with your birthday and just above your anniversary).

You’ve taken videos and pictures of yourself in varying states of ruin for Seungcheol’s enjoyment. He’s done the same. Flashes of his fist covered in cum in the dim light of his room back when you didn’t cohabitate. Videos of him jerking off, rambling about all the things he’d do to you.

He’s only ever admitted it once. A fantasy he keeps tucked away, bubbling just under the surface. It’d been almost two years ago when drunkenness threw inhibitions to the wind (along with the way his cock stretched your throat) that Seungcheol, without much thought to the matter, admitted how badly he wanted to film it. Film you, mouth full of him, cum spilling across your lips, eyes watering.

Neither of you mentioned it again afterwards but the idea stayed firmly planted in your subconscious.

And what better occasion to make your on screen debut than your husband’s birthday?

“I do have one idea…to make up for you being gone.” You say, smoothing down the back of his shirt. “For both of us, really.”

“And what is that Mrs. Choi?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” he huffs with amusement. “I can pencil that in.”

“I wasn’t done yet.” You force him off your chest into a cushion, taking over the prime real estate of his lap. “I want to make a sex tape.”

“What?”

“So you can watch it whenever you miss me during your trip.”

“Baby, you don’t have too—”

“I want to.” You nod. “Honestly more for me than you but I thought it’d be a nice birthday present.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm.”

“Shit, okay.” He takes a breath, calming down the need growing in his chest. “Tonight?”

“No, I’ve gotta get some stuff.” You kiss his neck just to tease him, chest to chest with a grind back into his crotch because he’s your husband and you can.

His chin tips back to give you space, fingers twitching at your waist thinking of all the possibilities. “What kind of stuff are we talking about?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”

“But it’s for my birthday,” he argues.

“Perfect time for surprises then, isn’t it?” You hop off him and beeline for the shower, his footsteps barely a second behind.

Based on aesthetics alone, you’d pass for one of those amatuer porn couples; you wrapped in Seungcheol’s favorite pair of panties sans bra, him half naked with sweatpants low on his waist. A lamp casts the room in a dull warm glow that you hope will soften the unforgiving quality of the camera.

Seungcheol is meticulous. If he had it his way then the professional grade camera he got for Christmas would be catching every minute detail but you draw the line at feeling too much like a porn star. Instead it's a cheap tripod you ordered online hastily and his phone.

Watching him focus so intently gets you hot; the flex of muscles from his fingers to the bare skin of his chest, hair falling in his face as he balances it on the chair dragged in from the dining room. Your pulse races while you model on the bed for him; testing every angle and position he directs you into with heat in your gaze.

“We really should have done this sooner. Holy shit,” he mumbles.

“Looks good?” you ask over your shoulder, ass high in the air with a painful arch.

He grabs one of your cheeks with force, fingers digging into the curve and spreading you bare. “You look amazing.”

“Stop, you'll make me blush.” Empty words because you bend up at the waist, chest on show for later viewing.

“My wife asked me to film a porno for my birthday. I’ll say whatever I want, thank you very much.” He palms whatever he can reach, tweaking your nipples until they ache into peaks.

“Speaking of,” you sigh. “There’s a few more surprises, birthday boy.’

“Really?”

Popping up, you plant a lazy kiss to his mouth, licking lewd intentions across his teeth. “In the top drawer of the dresser.”

Living alone means all the fun toys are kept in easy reach. The drawer is dedicated space for vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, paddles and whatever other random goodies collected over the years. So to have something not in your collection already makes him rush over to find out exactly what you’ve been so secretive about the past few days.

Seungcheol pulls out the silver bag, approaching the bed once again before separating the tissue paper to find what's inside.

“Are you serious?” he asks.

Leather handcuffs dangle from his hold. Red with silver hardware. The kind with clips so he can tie you up anyway he wants. And maybe later, anyway you want to tie him up too.

“I am,” you smile, kissing across his chest. “There’s more in there.”

He digs back in, easily finding the slip of red silk.

“Babe…” he breaths.

You kiss away his next words, soft and indulgent; a gross amount of tongue that comes with years of partnership. Both of you get lost in it, hands roaming, warming from the inside out. Seungcheol sucks on that spot below your jaw, a handful of ass threatening to distract you from the original purpose of tonight.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whisper pathetically only for him to hear, already forgetting the camera a few feet away.

Nostrils flaring, he watches as you mouth down his front. “You think I want to tie you up and blindfold you?” He’s cocky now; plain on his face how much the idea turns him on.

You slip to your knees on the floor, palm molded to his cock already plumping at the idea. “I think you wanna show me who is in charge.”

Seungcheol sizes up your offer. The way you look up at him with an innocent expression like you aren’t mouthing over the tented crotch of his pants. “Then take my cock out like a good girl.”

You force his sweats down with eager glee as Seungcheol starts recording above. You're in your element between his thighs, a place you excel with minimal direction. With the ideas you’ve planted in his head, you won’t have to do much to get him off.

Gentle kisses along his thighs make his stomach dip. “Can I use my mouth?”

“Not yet.” Seungcheol shakes. “You’ll taste it plenty later. Use your hand.”

You rub his cock with a spit slick grip, mouth watering for the familiar flavor of his spend promised later. The tip of his cock shines in the low light. It’s quiet except for the dirty wet squelch and his already labored breath. You could get off to this alone. A hand between your thighs as you jerk him to completion until he paints your chest white. You suck your lip between your teeth at the thought.

“Look here.” He’s holding his phone near his chin, recording the crazed gleam in your eye. The blindfold rests in his other hand, forcing it into your empty one. “Put it on.”

An easy command leaving you riddled with anticipation. Without vision, there's no telling what his next move is. Giving Seungcheol the power to do whatever he pleases. Every time you’ve given him power, he’s made it worth your while and then some. Now won’t be different. He cups your face, thumb spreading your lips until you suck with a moan. And as quick as it came, the heat is gone.

It’s replaced by the prod of his cock against your cheek. He slaps it against your chin, a hot wet trail against the seam of your lips you eagerly lick away once he moves again. His dick rubs across your face lazily, degrading and dirty. Just how you like it.

You kiss whatever comes in reach; the vein webbing the underside, the head, his balls. Anything he’ll give you, you’ll take.

“Open your mouth.” Seungcheol taps it against your chin once again. He doesn’t let you suck him in immediately, giving you an inch before moving away only to repeat the motion over again. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do without hesitation, messy already. He forces the tip into the flat of it. A flood of his taste serving as a precursor until he gives you more.

You like to show off under normal circumstances and with a camera in the mix, you’re edged to the side of debauchery. Seungcheol’s cock is heavy on your tongue; an easy slide to the back of your throat with little resistance. You stroke him into your mouth, tongue lashing against the slit in the head. His thighs tense under your nails with a good choke before you pull off.

“Looks good?” You ask, hand replacing your mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” Seungcheol guides you back down with a hand on the crown of your head. With new leverage comes more thrusts but you take each in stride. Precum mixes with spit, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and down your chin. “God, so good to my cock. Feel so good like this.”

You make it sloppy, throat tightening in a loud gag. He hisses your name when you manage to take another inch from his praise. His weight sinks into your throat; holding there until you grow dizzy from lack of air.

“Gonna cum,” he hisses. “Where do you want it?”

“On my face, come on my face.” You gasp for a quick breath before taking him again.

He’s close, bucking into your mouth with renewed vigor from something so dirty. “Want me to cover your pretty face in my cum?”

The vibrations of your moan make his hips kick again. You bottom out with a choke, wet eyes hidden beneath silk. Another swallow, more tongue against the slit until he gives a shaky jerk.

“F-fuck, okay.” Seungcheol pulls himself away, fisting his length. “Stick out your tongue again. Shit, shit.”

He goes for show rather than convenience, painting your chin and cheeks in messy streaks. At least your eyes are safe from any errant drips. You suck him back in, tongue collecting whatever stuck to the head.

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos, slapping his cock against your tongue with the last few drips.

Years together means Seungcheol knows your game. In the distraction of getting him off, you snuck a hand between your legs, rutting against it pathetically. He let you get away with it far too long not to notice and now you’ll pay the price.

He kicks your thighs apart, leaving you without a hint of relief. A rough grip at the back of your neck pulls you away without warning. “You touch yourself when I tell you to. Got that?”

Even with cum cooling on your skin, you still want more. “Sorry, sir.”

A harsh exhale is all the warning you get before you're pulled to your feet. It doesn’t last long. Bent over the mattress, you're prone to a swift slap against the back of your thigh. Predictable. You know exactly what that word does to him; how it drives him up the wall. The last time you called him ‘sir’ he made you come so many times you couldn’t walk the next day.

“You’re gonna be,” he threatens with another swat before wrestling your wrists together at the dip of your spine.

The cuffs link together easily. After testing their strength with a few gentle tugs, you’re left completely helpless to whatever your husband desires. Limp like a rag doll for his use. With the blindfold and the restraints, he’s got you at his mercy. It only drives you to act out more.

“Are you gonna spank me for being a bad girl, sir?” you goad, smile hidden in the sheets. A wiggle of your ass back into his hold to tease. You’re punished with another sting on the opposite thigh, then another and another. Each knots your stomach as you whine from the burn. The thought of the camera catching you, bent over, tied up, and covered in cum makes your insides warm with need. “That’s all you got?”

He answers with silence; a tense while he calculates. His hand squeezes across your heated skin, mindful of how much he gives you even when you challenge his authority like you weren’t asking for it.

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears. Cool air rushes against the seat of your ass. You brace for another slap, prepared for it on the round of your ass. But Seungcheol likes to keep you on your toes.

The impact stings your clit, thighs trembling because it hurts in the best way. His fingers stay flat to roughly work you into weak submission. You barely register the cold lube dripping between your cheeks to ease Seungcheol’s fingers easing at your entrance.

“That's all you got?” he mocks. “I swear one of these days I’m gonna fuck your throat until you can’t talk back.”

Your breath hitches at he fucks you open with two fingers, an embarrassingly easy stretch. “Could do it right now.”

“I’ve got other plans.” He rubs your insides raw, the sick squelch ringing in your ears. A calculating curl forces a twitch into your legs. All your weak spots are his playthings, until your nails bite into the meat of your palm from how well he works them.

“Like?” Your breath hitches with the next rush of his fingers. Even more when he spits on your hole and rubs the stiffness of his dick into the mess just to be nasty.

“No point of the blindfold if I tell you everything anyway.”

“Seungcheol.” You shudder as he wedges a third finger inside.

He’s on his knees, chest hot against the back of your thighs, peppering soft kisses across your ass like he’s apologizing for the brand of his hand you’ll certainly feel tomorrow. You reposition to take him; legs spread, thighs stained with arousal from anticipation. Palms push against your legs to stretch further and give the camera a good view.

The tear in your underwear gives him plenty of room to work with but he’s also a show off, putting all the muscles he’s worked so hard for to use by ripping the remaining lace clean off with rough enthusiasm. They fall slack around your knees.

“Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks spread around my fingers.”

“I will when I watch this while you're gone.”

“Gonna touch yourself to this? Seeing yourself get fucked?” His fingers hit that spot inside you. The one that punches air from your lungs and breaks you in half with limited coaxing.

“Yeah, might hu—shit—hump your pillow while I do it.”

Unlocking the cuffs, you sag in relief, straining muscles relaxing after being bound for so long. Seungcheol flips you on your back and locks them back in place over your stomach.

“Fuck yourself on my face then. Show me how much you want it and I’ll let you come.” He bites, tongue flattening in time with the return of his fingers. The camera must be somewhere else. Probably back on the chair at the side of the bed.

You do as he asks; feet planted on the bed as you curl into the pleasure, humping his face. A staccato lap of his tongue gets you started, wearing against the stiffness of your clit. You arch into it, unperturbed by the ache across your body. Seungcheol latches tight; sucking until your vision spots.

“Oh my god,” you hum; nerves fuzzy in your core from so much stimulation. He lets you grip a tight fist in his hair, keeping him still so you can ride his tongue.

“Come for me. All over my face like a good girl. That’s what you are right?” His fingers hit deeper. Gives you as much as you can possibly take. “My good girl?”

“I am, I–fuck, fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Your orgasm rushes like a tsunami. It drowns you into utter silence, choked and shaking. You might fizzle away into nothing from the inside out. Seungcheol shoves your legs open to work you through it, dragging out every last inch until you kick at his stomach for a break. “Oh my god.”

“Good?” He smirks, chuckling when you jump at a cruel lick at your clit.

“Asshole,” you knee him in the side without much bite, focusing on catching your breath.

He sucks a bruise into your thigh because he can, pulling away to admire his work before speaking again. “Done or do you wanna keep going?”

“Want you to fuck me,” you sigh. The emptiness consumes your brain, making you impatient for what happens next.

He licks his way up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth while the other grows sensitive between his fingers. “How?”

Drawn out from your previous orgasm, sink pliant into the cushion of the mattress. “However you want.”

“What if I wanna fuck you…right…here.” His thumb digs into your asshole, wet with spit and the obscene accumulation of your own arousal.

“Fuck, yes.” You nod pathetically. “Fuck my ass.”

The sick bastard laughs at your desperation like it's a cruel joke. “Not tonight. Maybe next time I’ll take a video of you taking my cock in your ass and one of your dildos in that tight little pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“You can fuck my pussy with both right now.”

“You’d want that?” His teeth bruise your nipple, hand dipping between your legs with no regard for your sensitivity. “God, you’re nasty.”

“It'd be so hot,” you mumble. The jitters in your muscles haven’t faded yet you're already hungry for more.

He leaves a kiss on your sternum before standing, footsteps padding against the floor towards the dresser. If he has any sense he’ll grab the one that perfectly resembles his cock. What once was a dirty gift exchange gag gift, now his favorite toy to watch you get off with.

“You sure?”

He’s sweet. But you don’t want him to be nice; you want him to dangle your pleasure in front of you and snatch it away when you get too close. “I’m pretty sure your phone is running out of space, so get to work big boy.”

When he comes back the blindfold is ripped away. Sweat beads on his forehead, hair wild, and skin pinked. Cock wet with a sticky mix of fluids, heavy against his thigh. He’s sexy like this. Based on how crazed he looks, you can only imagine yourself. And now you have it all caught on video.

“Hold this.” He shoves the phone into your grasp. “Film yourself getting fucked.”

The dildo is soaked in more lube; obscenely so. Enough to ruin the sheets and maybe the mattress but it looks good on the screen as he works it inside you until the base is flush with your pelvis. On the brink of breaking apart from just a clone of his dick, he fucks you nice and slow with it. A tedious grind into the heat of your core. Insides tightening but still missing something.

“What’s wrong baby?” he grins, fingers wedging inside around the edges. If you’re planning to take two cocks, he’ll make sure you’re prepped. “Tapping out on me already? Haven’t even put my cock in and you’re already whining.”

“Feels good.” You grit your teeth at his cockiness. This is for his birthday and if he wants you to be a pathetic mess for him, you indulge. “Fuck me harder with it.”

“Yeah? Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you with both. Stuffed until you can’t take it.”

“Kiss me,” you whine. You need something to distract from the visual of being split on two cocks before you explode.

He does just that. A confusing mix of tender want compared to the vigor between your legs. Your hips grind on their own accord, tingling from his fingers torturing your clit in time.

“I love you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Fuck yourself on it. Show me how good you take it, yeah?”

You rock your hips into it the best you can, fumbling to keep his mouth firm against your own. A lazy rut but he won’t complain after all you’ve given him already.

The phone ends up back on the chair for now. Seungcheol doesn’t bother making sure either of you are in frame, trusting that whatever is getting caught will be hot enough even if it's just the sounds of fried vocal cords and the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Mmm, give it to me. Let me feel your fat cock inside me.”

“You’re so needy.”

Your thighs begin to ache from being spread to accommodate him but it’s easily drowned out by the head of his cock breaching your entrance.

“Oh,” you gasp. It’s not something you’d ever be able to describe. A stretch bordering on pain but nothing more lube, Seungcheol’s patience, and some deep breathing can’t fix.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, just…really full. Wow.” You breathe, the pressure in your gut limiting everything to just this. It’s not an easy slide like the dildo, it’s more than you’ve ever felt. “Go slow, I can take it.”

He sinks deeper, another inch before stopping and pulling back out; restricted ruts making your teeth clench. You need a distraction. Something to keep your attention away from how uncomfortable it is. You want nothing more than to be stuffed as far as you can take it, but getting there might take a while.

And because your husband can always manage to read your mind, he flattens to your chest, mouth meeting your own in a dirty kiss that makes you blush more than the two cocks wedged inside you. “Feel good for you?”

“Tight.”

“I’m always tight,” you taunt.

“Tighter. Wet too, fuck,” he grunts. A kick of his hips you're woefully unprepared for knocks you out of orbit. “Look so pretty taking my cock like this. Stuffed so full. So fucking tight.”

A punch to the gut from how deep his voice sounds. Seungcheol is better at keeping up the facade of nonchalance than you but it’s betrayed in the detail: shaky hands, red ears, glazed eyes.

“God, you’re so big. Feel like you’re gonna tear me in half.”

“Really know how to treat a man, don’t you?” he laughs, pained. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Thinking about what you said earlier. Fucking my ass and my pussy at the same time.”

“You’d like that?” Seungcheol pants driving a little bit deeper.

“Yeah.” You melt in his hold. His cock in your ass is a special treat you like to indulge in whenever possible. “We can film that too.”

He fucks you with calculated grinds; slow until you beg him not to be. This is for you as much as it is for him and Seungcheol will only enjoy it if you are too, even if his cock is being squeezed to death.

“Is it in all the way?”

“Not even close, babe.” He coos, a sticky lube covered thumb brushing your cheek. “Relax.”

“Take two dicks inside you and see how well you relax.”

“I’m not the cock champ here, am I?”

“Just touch me. Please.” He skates that same hand between your legs, gentle circles on your nub while sinking deeper and deeper. Your stomach caves when he adds more pressure. “Fuck, right there.”

It’s the permission he needs to spread you prone, knees up to your chest to give you more. “Can you keep touching yourself for me? Play with that pretty little pussy for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You rub weak circles on your clit, range of motion limited from the handcuffs.

He abandons his grip on the silicon to twist your nipple. “Watch it.”

“Or what?”

“Say it again and I’ll make you ride this dildo while I fuck your mouth again.” He grunts, nudging your cervix to remind whose mercy you're under.

“But then you won’t get to see me take your hot load like a good girl.” You glow warmly with his choked expression.

“G-good—god—what kind of good girl talks about having her pussy filled?”

“The kind that wants you to spit in her mouth,” you beg.

“Then stick your tongue out.” He’s in a frenzy from how desperate you are. Thighs squeezing at the command, you do what he asks and are rewarded with the sick wet of his spit against the back of your throat.

You don’t get a chance to ask for another round. Seungcheol flips you on your front, face to face with the camera lens. Two of his fingers, the ones that taste like your cunt, hook into your mouth. Sucking them deep, you lap against them like their his cock; eager for the camera to catch the depraved need to be used that only he can inspire.

“Feels good?”

“So good,” you garble. “I love when you fuck me.”

“Yeah? Pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? All for me?” His voice jumps, cock twitching when you clench around him despite everything he’s giving you.

“All for you.”

“Gonna take my cum? Let me fill you up? That's what you want, don’t you? To be my pretty little cum dump?” He bites your ear lobe, fisting the hair at the crown of your head when you fall forward. “Look at the camera, baby.”

Wild jerks of his hips manage to force you to take him deeper, the head of his cock nestled further into your walls. All you can manage is a pathetic whine in answer to his questions. “Oh god, Seungcheol.”

He builds the pace, slow enough not to tear you in half but what he restrains in his rhythm he makes up for with harsh curls into the back of your throat. Each vein and ridge imprints into your core, more depravity.

You can feel it, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your skull; the ebb of another orgasm. Seungcheol sinks the full weight of his hips inside you, taking the chance to fuck you with the dildo instead.

The comforter greets your face, Seungcheol abandoning his grip on your hair to land another round of punishing swats on your ass. It takes everything in you to keep your head up, for you both to play back later and see how nasty you are for each other. You want your husband to know what you look like when he fucks you in half, how your eyes water and lip threatens to split under the clamp of your teeth.

“Gonna cum,” he groans. His chest seals against your back, pathetic ruts into your stinging ass. It barely lasts. A ploy to grab the camera again for a cumshot. You let your face drop into the mattress, arching for the best view he’ll ever get. “Gonna ruin this pussy.”

“Do it.”

He removes the dildo, focusing on how you still manage to cling to his cock after being full for so long. It frees his hand to curl under your hip and pinch your clit until you scream. “Want you to come again. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.”

There’s no slow build. A sprint to the finish at the hands of your lover, you twitch in his hold, mind vacant except for what he asks. Nothing but the need to come on his cock. The wet echo of skin slapping as he fucks you harder now without the threat of breaking you.

“I’m—close, fuck. Fuck!” You cry. Wetting his cock, you flail against the bed because Seungcheol is a cruel bastard that drags you so thin when you’re weak. A few more harsh drags on your clit, stomach sinking in half, and he’s letting you go. It’s weaker than the first but enough for Seungcheol to give in.

“Gonna cum for you,” he hisses, shivering. You milk him for all he’s worth. Taking the warm flood along your insides that keeps coming, each thrust gushing excess around the base of his cock.

He pulls out and you nearly sob. It’s a vulnerable feeling to be empty after taking a beating to your pussy, one Seungcheol doeesn’t let you marinate in because he’s still filming. And that means playing with the mess of your cunt while giving the camera a front row seat. A few thrust of the dildo coated in a sheen of your insides and cum has him cursing like nothing hotter has ever existed. You feel open and used, messy. “Push it out for me.”

Whatever trickles out, he fucks right back in. The aftershocks of your second orgasm numb it all. Like you're underwater and Seungcheol is at the surface. Muffled.

“Oh my God, that was so…Holy shit.” He stops the recording and tosses his phone away. “You’re incredible.”

“If you’re trying to sweet talk me into another round, you need to do better.”

“I can’t come again if I tried.”

“Ouch,” you wince. “Hurtful.”

“Drama queen,” he laughs. The kisses up your spine make up for the dig.

You hum into the ticklish sensation. “You love it.”

“Of course I do, that’s why I married you.”

“And here I thought it was for my incredible cooking.” You slouch into the pillows, body finally sputtering to a halt. “I feel gross.”

“Happens when you're covered in cum and take two cocks. Give me ten minutes and we’ll take a bath. The maintenance guy fixed the jets today.”

“Oh, baby.”

You and Seungcheol fall asleep five minutes later, your face in the pillows and Seungcheol’s lips at your shoulder.

“I’m under the big sign that says ‘Buses.’ Wait, I think I see you.” Seungcheol’s voice rings through the speaker as you scan the crowd

“Stick your hand up. Okay, now wave it in the air. No, bigger. Make a ‘Y’—”

“You’re so annoying,” he barks as he opens the passenger door.

You ease back into traffic, his hand clasped in yours over the center console. “I didn’t know having some harmless fun is a crime.”

“It is when I’m tired and I missed you.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo sarcastically. “I missed you too.”

The drive home is peaceful. Seungcheol kept you updated during his trip and vice versa. Even getting in the door of the house is done in lazy silence, your husband refusing to let you go more than a few feet away before drawing you back into his hold.

Tucked under the covers with your head on his chest, you crack; unable to keep his final birthday surprise a secret any longer.

“You know, I have one more gift for your birthday.”

“Baby, I love you but I can’t stay awake to fuck you. I promise I will in the morning.”

“Not that you perv. It's in the closet.”

“It can’t wait until morning?” he pleads, snuggling down to hide under your chin.

“Nope.”

He gets up with a dramatic pout, shuffling to the closet for a gift wrapped boxed you’ve had hidden since his birthday. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

He shreds through the paper, tossing aside the lid. Each second has you worrying your lip. It’s something you talked about extensively; in hypotheticals not realities. When you’d be ready. It’s why you bought this house, why Seungcheol’s car has a high safety rating. Something you’d both been clear about wanting since the very beginning.

There wasn’t an active effort but neither of you argued to use condoms again when your last pack of birth control ran out and the prescription went unfilled. You both carried on in silent agreement that whatever may happen will happen.

“Blueberries? You know we have a fridge to keep these in, right?”

“Fruit doesn’t belong in the fridge,” you shakily argue. “Now, read the note.”

“At seven weeks your baby is about the size of a blueberry. Baby Choi’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears are starting to look more—” he trails off, jaw slack. “Baby Choi?”

You burn under his gaze, shy like the first time he said I love you all those years ago. “Surprise?”

“Are you serious?”

He drops the fruit when you nod, no doubt spilling the fruit everywhere in his haste to kiss you. It’s hard with both you beaming, cheeks round and burning. Kisses to your cheeks and chin and lips and nose like he can’t believe it’s a real thing.

“I’m serious. Next week it’ll be the size of a grape and have fingers.” You pat your belly gently, his own hand caught under yours and snaking beneath your pajamas. “Weird to think about.”

“Oh my god.” He flushes. “How did you…?”

“Had a feeling while you were gone,” you admit. “On your birthday actually.”

“Really?” He’s staring at your stomach. You aren’t showing but since you’ve found out you can’t stop looking in the mirror for a change. That’s probably what he’s doing right now. Looking for those signs of proof that will start coming sooner than later.

“Yeah, I took like five tests in the grocery store bathroom to be sure.”

He doesn’t speak for a while, regarding you with silent awe. His cheek rests flat against your belly. There's a squeeze of your hand while his eyes sink shut to settle into the news. “We’re gonna be parents.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “My boobs are supposed to start getting bigger soon.”

“I thought something was different.”

“Probably the lack of sleep from your big ass baby.”

“Our big ass baby,” He corrects. “Is it too early to start decorating the spare room?”

“It literally doesn’t even have a face right now.”

Seungcheol kisses your navel, lips moving across the skin. “Your mommy is so mean to me. I think you’d be beautiful even if you don’t have a face.”

A week of knowledge, the initial anxiety you’d bottled up in effort to make sure he’s the first person you told (not including your gyno) starts to spill out. “We can do this, right? You’re ready?”

His head pops up, eyes softening as he meets yours. “There is no one in the world I’d rather do this with.”

“Me either.”

“Best birthday present ever.”

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sreepadamangaraj · 2 years

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youtube

If you're looking for some of the best long distance relationship gifts to surprise your partner with, then check out this list filled with the most unique and special gifts perfect for a long distance relationship!

#long distance relationship gift ideas #gifts for long distance relationship #long distance relationship gift ideas in 2022 #virtual gifts ideas for long distance relationship #new gifts in distance relationship #Youtube

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digitaleyezz · 2 years

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#Valentine's Day gifts #Valentine's Day gift ideas #romantic gifts #gifts for him #gifts for her #gifts for couples #gifts for long-distance relationships #personalized gifts #thoughtful gifts #unique gifts #Valentine's Day presents #Valentine's Day gift guide #Valentine's Day gift list #Valentine's Day gift inspiration #star wars

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xo100 · 11 days

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Unwrapped feelings - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: At their birthday celebration, you feel upset when none of the gifts are for you. Lando reassures her of his love, making her feel cherished despite the oversight.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1494

୨ৎ

Lando Norris was the sun in her life, a constant, warm presence that filled her days with joy. She loved him deeply, and after three years of dating, her heart still fluttered when he looked at her the way he did. They were each other's best friends, sharing everything from their quiet nights at home to the busy life he led as a Formula 1 driver. Lando loved her, too. There was no question about that. He made sure to remind her with every touch, every soft kiss, and every whispered word when they were alone. But no matter how much love existed between them, there was a silent, looming cloud that she tried so hard not to notice. His friends.

They never liked her, and she couldn’t quite understand why. She wasn’t arrogant or boastful. In fact, she was quite the opposite—introverted, sweet, and often quiet, especially around large groups. She wasn't overly outgoing or dramatic, and she certainly wasn’t trying to steal Lando away from his friends. But still, whenever they were together with his friends or the rest of the team, she could feel their subtle distance. The sideways glances when she spoke, the quick change of conversation when she joined a group—it all added up.

It wasn’t as though she had never tried to bridge the gap, either. Early in their relationship, she had gone out of her way to be friendly, to make conversation, and to show interest in their lives. But the more she tried, the more it felt like she was only getting further away from them. Over time, she stopped trying so hard, and she retreated back into the quiet comfort of just being by Lando’s side. After all, he was the one she loved. As long as they were okay, nothing else should matter, right?

But it did. Even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it hurt that the people closest to Lando—the ones he spent so much of his life with—didn’t seem to care for her. And that quiet hurt always seemed to linger at the back of her mind.

This weekend, however, was supposed to be special. A day for both of them, a moment to celebrate not only Lando’s birthday but hers as well. The idea to celebrate their birthdays together was something Lando had insisted on. They were only a few days apart, and since Lando had such a busy schedule, he suggested one big party where they could celebrate together. He even offered to host it at the McLaren Technology Centre, a place he called home and wanted to share with her.

“Everyone will be there,” he had said, his excitement bubbling over. “My friends, the team, some of the drivers. It'll be great!”

She had nodded with a smile, her heart hopeful that maybe this would be a chance to connect with everyone on a different level, in a more relaxed and festive atmosphere. Her own friends, though invited, couldn’t make the trip to England, and while she understood, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit lonely knowing she wouldn’t have her usual support system there. Still, this was about Lando too, and she wanted to focus on making sure he had the best time.

The night of the party had been a whirlwind. Lando was glowing, his energy infectious as he mingled with everyone, laughing and sharing stories. She stayed by his side for most of the night, smiling softly at his friends and the team members who came over to greet him, though she noticed the conversations were always directed toward him and never her. It stung, but she pushed the feelings aside. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

After hours of laughter, music, and food, the party wound down, and as the guests began to leave, Lando took her hand, guiding her toward a large table piled high with presents.

“Look at all this,” he grinned, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight. “I think we’re going to need all day tomorrow to open them.”

She chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. There were a lot of gifts, far more than she had expected. She didn’t think either of them would need much, but it was still heartwarming to see how much effort people had put into celebrating them.

Or so she thought.

The next day, after a lazy morning spent in bed, they finally sat down to open the gifts. Lando was practically buzzing with excitement, while she was content to sit beside him, happy to enjoy the moment with him.

The first few presents were exactly what she had expected—personalized items for Lando. Some McLaren-themed memorabilia, a few playful gag gifts from his friends, and even a sleek, custom helmet from one of the drivers. She watched with a soft smile as he unwrapped each one, his grin widening with every thoughtful present.

But as more and more gifts were opened, a realization slowly started to creep in. Every single present was for Lando.

She tried not to let it bother her at first. After all, Lando was the one who had more friends here, the one with the larger circle. It made sense that most of the gifts would be for him. But as the pile grew smaller and not a single gift was addressed to her, the hurt became harder to ignore.

There wasn’t a single present for her.

Not one.

By the time they reached the last box, she felt her heart sink. She had tried to stay positive, tried to convince herself that maybe someone had forgotten to label a gift, or maybe they’d gotten mixed up in the rush of the party. But no. Every gift had been intentionally for Lando, and her name hadn’t even been a second thought.

“Wow,” Lando breathed as he looked at the collection of gifts surrounding them. “That was… that was a lot.”

She nodded quietly, trying to keep her smile in place. Her hands fiddled with the ribbon from one of the opened boxes, trying to distract herself from the growing ache in her chest.

“Hey,” Lando said softly, noticing her quietness. “You okay?”

She glanced up at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. She could see how much he cared, how much he genuinely wanted to make sure she was happy. It wasn’t his fault that his friends had overlooked her. It wasn’t his fault that she felt so out of place among them.

“Yeah,” she whispered, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just… happy for you. You got so many cool things.”

He frowned, clearly not convinced by her answer. “But you didn’t get anything.”

Her stomach twisted, and she hated that she was the one bringing down the mood. “It’s okay, Lando. Really. Today was for both of us, but I know how important you are to them. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, and he could tell. His brows furrowed as he scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, lifting her chin so she would look at him. “It’s not fine if you’re upset. You’re important too. To me.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn’t want to cry, not over something as silly as gifts. But the hurt wasn’t just about the presents. It was about everything—the way his friends never really accepted her, the way she always felt like an outsider in his world.

“I just…” She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I just feel like they don’t see me. Like I don’t belong here. I know I’m not outgoing or loud or… like them. But I try, and it never seems like it’s enough.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. But I promise, you do belong. You belong with me.”

His words were warm and comforting, but they didn’t erase the ache entirely. Still, being in his arms made her feel a little better. She rested her head against his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re the most important person to me,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “And if my friends can’t see how amazing you are, then that’s their loss. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for him. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even when the world around them felt like it was crumbling.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The gifts, the party, the friends—they all faded into the background as Lando held her close, reminding her that she was loved. And in that moment, that was enough.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it. If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

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zvouyage · 23 days

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i’m going crazy over the thought of you .ᐟ

pairing.ᐟ ; enhypen x gn!reader . . . fluff && established relationships . . . précis.ᐟ ; they finally get to meet you after being in a long distance relationship with them.

w.c.ᐟ ; 1072 ( 𝒷ack 𝓉o 𝒷log ? )

warnings.ᐟ ; lowercase intended , not proofread , lots of hugging . . . ☁️

heeseung

constantly texts and sends voice messages to his partner, making sure you feel his presence even from afar. when he finally sees you, he pulls you into the longest hug, whispering how much he wanted to see and kiss your face.

heeseung was usually composed, but the second he saw his partner in the crowd, all his cool demeanor melted away. he practically sprinted towards you, his heart racing in sync with his footsteps. when he finally reached you, he didn’t say a word—he just pulled you into a tight embrace, holding on like he never wanted to let go. his face pressed into your shoulder, and he let out a deep breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “god, you don’t how much i’ve waited..” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with all the emotion he’d been bottling up.

jay

buys gifts and small tokens from every place he visits, planning to give them to his partner whenever the both of you meet. when you finally see each other, he surprises you with a collection of little souvenirs, each with a story behind it.

jay was the type to plan everything down to the smallest detail. he had your and his reunion/meeting mapped out perfectly in his mind—what he would say, the way he’d greet them—but all of that flew out the window the moment he saw you. he dropped his carefully prepared speech and rushed forward, enveloping you in his arms. “it’s been too long..” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. later, when you were both alone, he pulled out a small box filled with little souvenirs he’d collected from his travels, each one with a story behind it. “i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” he said, handing them the box with a sheepish smile.

jake

video calls his partner every night before bed, always making sure you fall asleep while talking to him. when you both finally meet, he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire day.

jake had dreamed about this moment so many times that it almost felt surreal when it finally happened. he couldn’t stop smiling as he walked towards you, his heart pounding in his chest. as soon as you were close enough, he reached out, pulling you into a warm hug. he held on for a long time, swaying slightly as if to reassure himself that you were really there. “you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to do this.” he whispered, his voice full of warmth and love. for the rest of the day, he refused to let go of your hand, not wanting to waste a single moment apart.

sunghoon

struggles with the distance but hides it behind a cool demeanour. when you both meet, his reserved nature breaks, and he showers you with affection, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear into thin air so suddenly.

sunghoon had always been the reserved type, keeping his emotions close to his chest, but the distance had been harder on him than he’d ever let on. when he finally saw you, standing there waiting for him, all his walls came crumbling down. he walked over slowly at first, almost in disbelief, but once he reached you, he couldn’t hold back. he pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried in their hair as he let out a shaky breath. “i missed you so much..” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, holding you close like you were his lifeline, and you probably were.

sunoo

constantly sends cute, encouraging messages and photos of his day to make his partner smile. when you meet, he’s all smiles and excited energy, not letting you leave his side even for a second.

sunoo couldn’t contain his excitement. The moment he spotted his partner, his face lit up with the brightest smile. he practically bounced over to you, his energy contagious. when he reached you, he wrapped you in a tight hug, squeezing you with all the affection he’d been saving up. “i’ve been counting down the days until i could see you again!” he said, his voice full of joy. he didn’t let go for a long time, basking in the warmth of your presence. for the rest of the day, he stayed by your side, constantly reaching out to hold your hand or brush his fingers against yours, needing the constant reminder that you were finally together.

jungwon

keeps himself busy with work but always makes time for his partner, sending long, thoughtful texts whenever he has a break. when you finally see each other, he’s gentle and sweet, making sure the reunion is perfect.

jungwon had always been the dependable one, keeping things together even when it was hard, but the distance had weighed on him more than he’d shown. when he finally saw you waiting for him, his usually calm and collected demeanour cracked, replaced by a soft, relieved smile. he walked over to you, taking his time as if savouring the moment. when he finally reached you, he gently pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapped around you securely. “i’m so glad you’re here finally..” he whispered, his voice steady but full of emotion. for the rest of the day, he stayed close, his presence calm and reassuring, making sure you felt every bit of the love he had for you.

riki

tries to act nonchalant but secretly feels the distance the most. when he finally meets his partner, he can’t help but show his excitement, dragging you around to show you everything he’s been wanting to share.

riki had tried to play it cool, but as soon as he saw his partner, all his attempts at nonchalance disappeared. he grinned widely, his excitement barely contained as he practically ran over to you. without a second thought, he pulled you into a bear hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. “you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to see you, in person..” he said, his voice full of unfiltered joy. he didn’t care about the stares you both were getting; all that mattered was that you both were finally together. for the rest of the day, he was like an excited puppy, dragging you around to show them everything he’d been dying to share with you, his energy infectious.

@zvouyage. 24/plagiarism won't be tolerated on my page.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #heeseung imagines #jay imagines #jake imagines #sunghoon imagines #sunoo imagines #jungwon imagines #ni ki imagines #• zeynep’s delulu kingdom ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #• zeynep’s delulu kingdom’s menu ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #• zeynep’s delulu kingdom’s artworks ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #• enhypen ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི!

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seelestia · 4 months

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⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

#hsr x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #dr ratio x reader #hsr fluff #seelestial.inks #reveriesincups

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 8 months

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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Height Difference Headcanons

AKA What it's like to love a Short King

I was already inspired after my last headcanon post, and have some more fun little ideas for Lucifer X Reader, namely in regards to our dear Fallen Angel being the short one in the relationship. Got a bit sillier and spicier with this one, and I hope you're all ready for some very spicy ones in the near future!

- He's accustomed to being shorter than most, and while he's not one to accept mockery of any kind, he's more than comfortable enough with himself to accept nicknames and loving platitudes about his height from a romantic partner. Hearing you sweetly refer to him as a "Short King" will always get him smirking, and an affectionate "Little Lucy" makes him melt every time. Cooing over how cute he is is also sure to put him in a happy, purring mood, to the point he'll end up laying his head on your lap if you'll let him. Hearing about how darling you find him whilst having your fingers run through his hair might just be his favorite pastime.

- Between the wings and his angelic powers, he doesn't actually struggle to reach anything high up, but he will still appreciate it if you preemptively grab the item in question. That's not to say he won't ask, but he'll always make a point to be as silly about it as possible when he does. Requesting a lift is his preferred way of doing so, and he'll take his sweet time lounging in your arms after grabbing what he needs, even stretching out bridal style for a bit of carrying. Angelic magic can make him light as a feather for extra long bouts of carrying if you're willing to indulge him.

- He'll be the first to tell you all about the advantages of his stature, and at the top of his list is how often he finds himself at bust height, which is quite the gift for a breast man like himself. Yours are the only ones he's interested in, obviously, but he loves how easy it is for him to come in for a hug and tuck his head in between. You'll find him doing this wether he's had a great day or a terrible one, with the former being to celebrate and the latter being to get some much needed comfort somewhere warm and soft. He can't help it if your boobs are just the perfect place to put his face.

- He's going to borrow your hoodies. Granted, "borrow" is an interesting term for something you'll never get back, but he always ensures you're compensated in some way or another. No top of yours that fits him is safe, and the looser it fits over his smaller frame, the better. These oversized clothes are never worn outside the privacy of his quarters, and he wears them most frequently when circumstances keep the two of you apart, particularly at night. Having something of yours all around him is like having your embrace from a distance, and he can't help being sentimental enough to find comfort in that, even after so many eons.

- He's small, but you'll never forget that he's an absolute powerhouse, if only because it's beyond obvious when you're in his presence. Angelic power practically hums through the air if you listen closely, and that's just what you can sense at a distance. Things are even more intense when you come into contact with his lean physical form. For all of his grace and agility, he doesn't lack for physical strength in the slightest, and you learn that the first time you feel him support your body with his. He'll never once give even a hint of effort, let alone struggle, no matter how considerably you tower over him. Carrying you bridal style takes no more effort than one would to lift a couple of grapes. As such, he'll happily take you into his arms or lap, and showing off his unfathomable strength in romantic gestures always gets him puffing his chest with pride.

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packsvlog · 1 month

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ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᝰ PINKISH TIP, GIRLY POP⸻ chp8

ᡴꪫ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a nasty breakup from a long distance relationship, your needs for hookup starts to bundle up more and more, until it’s all you can think about. tired of your unusual and annoying self, your friends decide to have a little fun and stop this nonsense. it’s just a bet, you don’t even have to do it, actually, they just want you to calm down a bit. although you, a quite normal yet weird girl, never backs down from a dare, so you fully believe you can win this one — to hookup with the most amount of guys from your college’s top fraternity. all you need is booze, a party with neon lights and someone saying “doubt it”. as a future journalist, you see it as a top notch article to write.

ᡴꪫ cw: SMUT \\ protected \\ reader and gojo just…idk, they’re having a lot of fun \\ oral (fem!receiving) \\ for jokes reason, reader straightened her hair for the party \\ gojo likes cockwarming \\ they get cock-pussy!drunk \\ crack!chapter as well, reader is daydreaming and funny \\ english is not my native language \\ gojo calls her “baby”

You have no idea what does Gojo’s room look like, even if you had been inside of it for a couple minutes now. You can say with certain that his door is white, and cold. After all, you have been pressed against it, right away. Gojo managed to push you inside and dived for a kiss, as if claiming his prize. He had been searching and waiting for you all night.

He is ── breathtaking.

Gojo is a starved man. His kisses are messy and wet, but nonetheless, they make you close your fists on his shirt and pull him impossibly closer. You want so much more, and he will give all to you. You can’t help but moan when his lips connects into your neck. He sucks it, scrapping his teeth, trying hard to get more and more reactions out of you. And, of course, you comply. You moan more, sighing, pulling his hair.

Gojo halts.

Fuck sake, if he says he is a virgin, you will stop this bet right fucking now!

“Did you fuck someone?” He asks, hot breath against your skin. “You, uh, have a hickey. I didn’t give you.”

“What?” Your mind is screaming at you, get a grip, it says. “Of course you gave me, Gojo, you were feasting on my neck not even a minute ago.” He stares into your eyes, sharp glancing, trying to catch a lie. Slowly, he nods his head and go back to his previous action.

That was too fucking close, and gaslighting serves a good purpose, sometimes. You understand your ex a bit now.

You, thankfully, stop thinking about him, when Satoru ── who you recently discovered his name ── grips your thighs and hoist you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your hands guide his face back to your lips. He is more than pleased to kiss you back, having had his fun with bruising more and more of your neck, subconsciously marking over Ino’s own hickeys.

“You have condoms, right?” You whine against his lips. knowing for a fact that you will cry if he denies. Gojo smirks, pulling you from the door and walking to lay you on the bed. His weight on top of you is easily accepted.

“Yeah, baby, don’t worry about it.” He mumbles an answer, his kisses going back down, this time to your cleavage. “This is a hickey I didn’t made.” You stare down at the small purple imperfect circle on your titties ─ Takuma’s gift.

“Curling iron.” You moan, desperate.

He takes the answer with a shrug, despite your hair being clearly pin straight, thanks to Kirara earlier. You want to laugh at his stupidity, but Gojo, much like you, is fucking out of his mind. You can bet that the only thing he is thinking is the desire to get inside you, right now.

His largue hands cup your breast when his mouth move away, they squish for a bit before he begins to remove your corset. Gojo’s eyes are settled on your naked upper body the moment it is presented to him, as if staring at anything else might be a sin.

“Gojo…please.” You pleaded, calling for his gaze to yours and he cooed at you.

“You poor baby, just wait.” And, seeing no other option, wait is what you do.

Satoru leaves you for a minute to grab something on his drawer, which you smartly assume to be the condom. When he turned back, he was grinning at you, looking like the happiest person in the world.

The thing about wanting sex so much, and not having it, is that the moment you are face to face with the opportunity, you feel virgin all over again. It’s weird, isn’t it? The drop of your guts, the instant fill of butterflies on you ribcage, trying to fly all the way up to your throat. Exhilarating, scandalous.

With Ino, it was just a kiss before it turned into the sex talk, and right away he told you there were no condoms. You didn’t had the time to sprout those cold sighs on your lungs, but now you do.

Something in your face gave away your nervousness, and Satoru once more stop his advances. He looks at you, before settling down on the bed, both arms resting against your body.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t wanna.” He whispers.

“I do,” You cradle his face and he leans into it. “I’m just nervous. It’s been a while.” Your burned cheeks bring light to his eyes, and he press pecks to your lips as if, minutes ago, he wasn’t nearly ripping it off with his sharp teeth.

“It’s okay. I’ll take your nerves away, can I?” At your nod, Satoru, once more, moves down.

This time, he doesn’t stop too long on your boobs, instead he keeps going and going, leaving kisses and marks, until he is faced with your skirt. He eyes you, asking for permission, and when you mumble a desperate yes, he removes your mini skirt in a slow peace.

The fucker is teasing you. In case you haven’t noticed already by his annoying pleased face, having all the fun in the world, even when you yank his hair back.

“Ow! I ── I quite like that, actually.” You giggle and his face lights up again. He thinks you’re adorable.

When your dripping intimacy is facing him, Gojo groans out his own pleasure, just by sight he can get off. One of his fingers, cold, touch your cunt, separating the folds and smearing itself into your release of earlier ── Gojo, though, doesn’t need to know that. For all purposes, you simple are drenched from his kisses alone. Which is not a full lie, at all.

He is entranced by you. One finger turns into two, then three, then a fourth one finds your bundle of nerves right away. You gasp, and moan, and gasp again. As if following his circulatory movements.

“Got you there, baby.” That’s the last thing he says before taking the lead, and drowning himself in your pussy. Removing most fingers, except his overworking thumb.

Gojo’s kisses are of a starving man, as said. His eating is even more. He is desperate, and yet not messy. Of course, the slurping sound, and your wetness is being parade all over the room and your thigh and his face, but it’s all good. Too good, so fucking good.

Your legs close around his head, instinctively, and he moans while nodding. The fuck.

Your ex, ── who you so much wished was not plaguing your mind at this exact moment ── was not against giving head. Is just that, unlike you, he didn’t cared about knowing what to do exactly. The man thought that all was needed was tongue movements and fingering, and you might have felt pleasure, but never came to it. And many others haven’t as well, the male population was lacking in the head department.

Gojo Satoru had absolutely no part in this, whatsoever. He knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. You had no expectations, and he still managed to make you see starts. Unhinged breathing mixed with extraordinary moans, and so many swearing. You were a mess, his mess, to be more precise.

One of Satoru’s hands is holding your thigh, against the side of his face. He even raises you a bit, to have more space to devour. He mumbles against your core, inserts his tongue, he never stop his finger movement on your clit. Gojo is making you crazy! He is, as well.

You whimper under him, arching your back, grabbing his hair with so much strength, and he keeps his movements constant and encouraging you. You bet you could remove his scalp and he wouldn’t move an inch.

You’re coming. Wait ── what? That early? Not possible.

Buckle the fuck up, Gojo Satoru is a master of tongue.

He didn’t even fingered you.

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Coming back from your high and confused thoughts, with his head still implanted on your cunt was a beautiful reception. You started to wonder if it would be needed a surgical removal of him from you, when he groaned and raised his upper body. The vision of his handsome face, drenched in your release, had you nearly going off again. And again, and maybe one more for good measure.

He smiles devilish, as if he can read your most impure thoughts. And you smile back, because in all honestly, if he knows he will comply.

Gojo raises from the bed, and removes his jeans. He stares at you as he comes for the condom laying on the bed, but your eyes are entranced by his cock.

Kinji once told you that the name Mu Iota Beta was a hidden message created as a joke by Gojo ── Mommy mIlkers Bitch, because he believed most members had largue pecks (titties). As someone who had been blessed by two cocks of the members, and accidentally seeing a nude on Kirara’s phone, your first thought was definitely that MIB most likely had large everything.

Please, you begged the universe, all big for me.

Pinkish tip, girly pop! Perfectly curved, you could call yourself a mathematician, at this point. That thing was created for you, you knew that. Gojo knew that. He put the condom on himself, but all he could focus on was you. Beautiful, mesmerized, mouth gap, legs open, fingering yourself.

You didn’t even noticed when you started, but stoped right away, growing shy. You really are a slut, and you love it. But you are a timid slut.

“No, no, keep doing that ── just, fuck, just a bit more.” He whimpers, moving closer, hard cock on his hands and he moves up and down slowly. So you follow his lead and goes back to inserting your finger in yourself. With press on nails is hard, but Satoru don’t care about your speed, he just likes the view. “I’m going to fuck you so good.”

“Please, now.”

“So demanding.” He mocks you.

Gojo is pretty fast, for a boy this tall. One moment he was standing apart from you, and now, he is on top of you, again. Holding both of your hands up, with only of of his, while the other goes down to his length. He stares at you, asking for confirmation, and at you “Yes”, he fix himself to slowly get inside you.

Your moans and groans are mixed and drowned by the sound of the party.

“You’re, fuck baby, you’re wrapping me so good.” He praises fall on your deaf ears.

It’s been really fucking long since the last time you got fucked. The memory of the feeling never really goes away, but it’s a whole different aspect to be back to it. Gojo is thick, and long, and he keeps going deeper and deeper, more than you’ve ever had before.

Today is a lucky day for you!

When he stops moving, you frown and groan. Your hips instinctively move, but Gojo let go of your hands to hold it down. He, you think, is a fucking asshole. Satoru is back at sucking your neck, and his own hips are moving very, very fucking slowly. You hate him, and he knows, because he laughs against your skin, after one more of your whining.

“Sorry, baby, but you feel so good like this.”

“You can be stuck inside of me all you want, after you fuck me.”

“Is that a promise?”

You try to answer, but the words filled with sassiness and many swearing get stuck in your throat. In their place comes more moans, the desperate kind that even a hand on your mouth couldn’t muffle it. Gojo picked up his pace, he is giving you exactly what you were begging. That doesn’t mean you are relieved, you are, in fact, going mental.

Your thoughts are spiraling into this new sensation. Getting fucked this deep and this fast is not what you were used to, but you are not complaining, and never will, if this is what’s waiting for you with the others.

Your nails press against Satoru’s back, and his little gasp for air only fuels you to scratch a bit more and more. He, knowing he lost his composure, decides to strike again. Your boobs, bouncing due to his movements, receive extra attention from his salivating mouth.

Gojo and you are fighting for the control of the other. Using the tricks on your (naked) sleeves, playing dirty. It doesn’t matter, because the sensation only keeps growing, to a point where none of this is more important than the other’s body.

You wrap your legs on his waist, and Satoru gets even deeper. He raises himself, grabbing the metal headboard, and using it for his advantage. He is crazy. Mad man, mad thrusts, he is drowning himself in the feeling only your gummy warm walls can provide to his sensitive cock. He feels dizzy, and so do you. But he keeps going, trying to reach the nirvana of those feelings.

“Fuck, fuck ── good, feel so fu-fucking good.” You keep chanting, one hand against your mouth while the other press against his chest. They really are big.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, please, please.”

“What do you want, baby?” Gojo comes back to hold your hips.

You don’t know what you are begging for, and he knows that as well. But is so comically pleasing to have someone getting dumb on your cock, stuffed until you see the budge on their tummy. Eyes rolling back and mouth agape. He knows you are too far gone in the feeling he provides, yet here you stand, begging for more. And who the fuck is Gojo Satoru, if not the man to provide all your demands? You want ── need, more? Have it.

You don’t recall how it happened, because the moment it even began, you saw black points in your eyesight. When your breathing returned to its normality, and your vision cleared, you had one leg on top of Satoru’s shoulders.

And he was, as always, dutifully following his quick pace. Two outcomes could be the end of this new position, either fainting or coming. You wanted to cry, and your body did reacted to this.

“Y’trying to milk me?” Possibly, yes. “Wrapping around me, like that, yeah, just like fucking that.”

Honestly, you barely payed attention to what he was saying. Your focus was on your nerves, how it seemed all of it was being personally affected by Gojo’s aching cock, how your hands were gripping the sheets, and your heart felt like it was burning.

“Argh, I’m ── cum,” You managed to let it slip through your moaned hiccups, and Gojo closed his eyes in concentration.

He pushes your one leg resting on him down, just a bit closer to your chest, and at that you cry out of pleasure. You’re coming on his cock not even a second later, and Gojo just keep moving, thrusting, as if he won’t ever stop. You don’t want him to stop, in fact, you could end this bet and be stuck with him inside of you forever.

Unfortunately, you walls are so tight around him, that you sense his twitching. Gojo gasps and tries to not fail on top of you, when he releases your leg and rests his head on your chest. He keeps coming and coming, until he stops and Satoru is still inside of you.

“Aren’t you going to move?” You wonder, with your shaking fingers caressing his head. Gojo sighs at the feeling, and signs no with his head.

“You said I could be inside you.” Yes, you did.

Gojo reposition both of you, so he is laying down and you on top of him. You both moan at the friction, but he stay still. Having your head resting on his chest, and catching his breathing back. In silence.

Well, except that your thoughts are loud and clear. It’s starting, you think, you’re about to have a fucking great year. With emphasis on fucking.

ᡴꪫ an: well, hello. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to writing smut, but sure as hell, it’s a fucking fun ride! gojo is here, he is not a virgin, and he has condoms, reader keeps winning. so, quick analysis, reader is always talking about her ex, boring, isn’t it? no, wrong answer, we need to understand who this fucker is, what he did, might do, oh, i don’t know. he will be more explained, as the series go on. hihi. honorable mentions to: reader calculating the angle of satoru’s dick, she saying she burned herself with a curling iron, despite her hair being straight for the party, ino’s hickeys, kinji’s nudes, her ex’s small dick, gojo is a king in pussy eating, but you guys haven’t seen nothing. PLS, if you guys have any theories of who is next, who is her ex, anything, comment or send an ask, i love to talk about this series.

🏷️ 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @ducky1232 @mfcherry @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @makeshiftproject @poopooindamouf @ventila98 @faithums @lvingd3adg0rl @starrnai @r0ckst4rjk @lunavelha @catobsessedlady @luvvmae @sjndvi @punkhazardlaw @lemonnotade @luvmeadow @tired-jaz @csxmxx @serenadesvt @ukiyoeangel @satoryaa @madiexuberant

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ghouldump · 2 months

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hiii, i just wanted to say i LOVE your iwtv fic, the characterization is just perfect *🤌*

If your requests are open I would like to request a loustat x fem!reader + claudia

reader is a vampire slightly older vampire than louis, turned in the 1860s by a 700 year old vampire, she was his first and only fledgling, they did not know eachother before he turned her (his wasing bleeding to death after being robbed in an alley), they had a close friendly/platonic relationship like siblings, and she met loustat in 1925, and joined their relationship, she like the odd one out as she's the calm/sensible one and a mediator between them. She acts like Claudia's fun aunt.

Sorry if it's long 😅, the rest is totally up you, just something where they get jealous/possessive over her please!!

Forever Young | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ you meet someone who reminds you of your maker, and naturally gravitate to them, but your family isn’t as welcoming to the idea of the man.

it’s definitely not too long, it’s perfect, i love it 🩷

“Aleron, brother, please, open this door,” you beat on the door, no matter how much force you put in your hands, the door wouldn’t budge.

You could see the sun rising, from under the door, his painful screams, following. The blood poured from your eyes, as you pleaded with him. You could still save him, you could nurse him back to life.

Finally, you could open the door, crying out as the sun graced your face. As you began to burn, you noticed the pile of ashes. You were too late, he was gone. Grabbing his coat, you backed into the house, shutting the door, before dropping to your knees, weeping loudly.

“Aleron-

“Y/n, are you alright?” your eyes opened, staring into Claudia’s worried eyes. Sitting up, the familiar faces surrounded your coffin, Louis wiped your face with a soft handkerchief.

“It was only a dream,” you smiled at them.

“Are you sure, you had us worried,” Claudia said, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m fine, really, we should get dressed,” you told her, watching as she nodded, getting up, and going to her room.

Lestat hadn't said a word, watching you, trying to see what it was that you weren't sharing. Turning to face him, you shook your head, climbing out of the coffin.

“I’m okay”

“What was your dream?” he asked you.

“It was a silly-

“That left you crying,” he said, sternly.

“Don't push her to tell you”

“It's okay, Louis, I know he just wants to help,” you smiled.

“If I have another, you'll be the first one to know, come on, get dressed,” you reassured him.

“Do we all have to go?” Claudia whined as you all got into the car.

“It will only be for a little while,” Louis said, as Lestat started to drive.

Louis couldn't seem to fully let go of his family, randomly showing up with gifts. They already had their assumptions about him, yet he wouldn't stop trying. Lestat found it pointless, but you understood that he loved them still. Even when they blamed him for the passing of his brother, he still loved them all greatly.

“You can sit in the car with me if you want,” you told her, smiling as she nodded in agreement.

While Lestat tried to be cordial with the family, you never made an effort. They'd stare at you, as you sat in the car, but you never looked their way. Yes, you thought Louis’ love for them was admirable, it didn't change what they thought of you all. They found your relationship weird and concerning, they questioned why none of you were ever seen during the day if you were seeing both Lestat and Louis. Their questioning was nevertheless exacerbating, so you kept a distance from them.

Your mind began to drift off, thinking back to your dream, to him. Aleron, your maker, your teacher, your companion, your brother, your father, your friend. It had been nearly 40 years since his departure, and yet when you thought of him, the wounds felt fresh.

He was your everything, the reason you were the way you were today. He exuded remarkable beauty, turned at only 14 years of age, by a follower of Akasha. With the queen of vampires' blood running through his veins, he quickly discovered the power and strength he possessed, compared to others. For centuries, he lived, killing hundreds upon hundreds of humans in his lifetime, and then he met you.

He had been hunting, when he came across the men, who, after robbing you, conceived the plan, their minds filled with corruption, sought to kill you as well. Taking turns they beat you, before stabbing you, taking all of your possessions, and that was very few things.

He could see into your thoughts, an orphan, who had recently come of age, trying to make it in a world that wasn't built for women to strive without the help of a man. You were alone, like him, and having compassion, he killed them, brutally for your name's sake. Turning you in that very dark alley.

Taking you in, he taught you companionship, the history of vampires, and advice on how to live, after being on earth for over 700 years. He loved you and you loved him, and there wasn't a love as strong, that either of you had ever witnessed.

Then it happened, somewhere within his teachings he regained his humanity. He didn't want to kill anymore, didn't want to be a child of the night, to be trapped in this forever youthful body. And so, 30 years into your life of vampirism, he used his power to keep the doors shut. He longed to die, accepting his fate while he stepped into the sun, becoming nothing more than dust.

“We’ll be right back,” Louis said, as the car stopped.

“Ok,” you nodded.

After over three lonely decades of wandering, your heart ached at the thought of Aleron’s centuries on earth. He was but a child, when he was turned, making it impossible to build any nonplatonic relationships. Perhaps that is what made you love Claudia, Lestat, and Louis so much. In a way, you could see fragments of you and your maker in them.

“Why do you think Daddy Lou keeps coming here, even though he’s not welcome”

“Because they were once his family, it's hard to just stop loving someone who was once important to you, but it looks like they are coming back,” you pointed, seeing Louis and Lestat walking out of the house, visibly aggravated.

“You and that white devil stay away from this house,” his sister’s husband yelled.

“I own this house,” Louis reminded him. As they approached the car, he looked back at them once more.

“And he ain't white, he's French,” he corrected them.

Looking over at Claudia, you both covered your mouths, holding back the laughter.

“It's alright, they can't say you didn't try to be there for them,” you told him, leaning up, kissing his cheek.

Sighing, he nodded in agreement, before he and Lestat began to talk about business ventures. You were relieved when the car finally parked, stretching, you smiled, seeing Claudia clap in excitement. She enjoyed hunting, surprisingly with Lestat, he wasn't as restrictive as Louis.

“We’ll meet back here, in twenty minutes?” Lestat announced, everyone nodded, before going their separate ways.

You didn't have much of an appetite tonight, after your dream. How real it felt, how vivid the memory was, it ruined any hunger that could've been there. Walking down the French Quarter, you stopped seeing the large nutria rat. You hadn't been introduced to drinking from rodents, until Louis and Lestat. No, it wasn't nearly as good as a person, but it managed to get the job done.

Quickly killing and draining the rat, you wiped your mouth, as you tossed it into the garbage. Walking along the sidewalk, you looked at the different stores, a few new ones, some closing down, others busy as always. As you passed by a shop, your eyes widened, before you backed up to stare at the cashier.

You couldn't believe your eyes, going into the fragrance store, he spoke, before looking at you. It couldn't be him, but here he was, looking the very same, only older.

“Welcome to Aromaessence, let me know if you need any…thing,” he paused a little, as he stared at you. Nodding, you walked around the store, looking around, picking up random sprays, occasionally glancing at him.

Grabbing a floral bottle, you walked to the counter, slowly sitting it in front of him.

“Is that all for you, Miss?” he asked.

“Yes,” you smiled, softly.

“Ah, Lavender, this one smells so good,” he said, you could feel your eyes tingling.

“What are you doing?” you asked, watching Aleron pick the flowers from his neighbor's garden. She would lose her mind if she caught you both here, but he couldn't help himself.

“Getting some lavender, put some in your bathwater, or just rub it on your skin, it smells wonderful,” he beamed, while you quietly laughed.

“It does,” you agreed, your eyes traveling to his name tag. Aaron.

“Are you the new shop owner? I haven’t seen the other man in a while,” you asked.

“No, it's my cousin's store, his wife just had their first child and he asked me to come down and help out a bit, I'm from Chicago,” he explained.

“Well that was very kind of you,” you told him.

“Uh, 30 cents is the total,” he said, chewing his bottom lip.

Handing him the coins, your eyes widened as his fingers brushed against your hand, as he accepted the money. You felt a spark.

“Would you like this in a bag, miss?”

“Yes please,” you nodded, watching as he placed it into a small bag for you.

Walking behind you, you noticed as he closed both of the windows.

“Closing?” you asked him.

“Ah, yes ma'am, you were the last customer of the night,” he nodded.

“I see, well, goodnight,” you told him, turning to leave.

“Wait, I-um, have we met before? You look so familiar,” he said.

“I don't think so, goodnight Aaron,” you said.

“May I have your name?”

“Y/n”

“Goodnight, Y/n, I hope to see you again,” he told you, before shutting the door.

You couldn't contain the smile on your lips, as you walked away. However, your eyebrows quickly furrowed, seeing the troubled expressions on Lestat and Louis’ face.

“What's wrong-

“You know the boy at the fragrance store?” Louis started.

“And what could he have possibly said for you to keep smiling and laughing, I'm sure he wasn't that funny,” Lestat said with an attitude.

“You were gone for more than twenty minutes, so we went to look for you,” Claudia told you. You couldn't believe they were acting jealous, riding in silence until he parked in front of the house.

“I don't know him, I was only being nice, he's practically a tourist,” you finally spoke up.

“Seemed like you thought he was cute,” Louis said.

“He is cute, like when you look at kittens and puppies, you wouldn't get jealous if I was giving my attention to an animal,” you told them.

“Actually-

“I’m yours and yours and yours, I don't have any room in my heart for any others,” you said, pulling Claudia into a hug, swirling her around, before placing her on the ground.

As she ran into the house, Louis and Lestat still stood outside, both of them pouted like a wounded animal.

“I just bought some perfume, no need to be jealous,” you spoke to Louis, as you pecked his lips.

“Either of you,” you said, as Lestat circled you, before accepting your kiss.

“You two have to try to keep quiet tonight,” you moaned, as Louis kissed along your neck.

“No promises, ma chérie,” Lestat groaned. Holding each of their hands, pulling into the house.

“Claudia, where’s Y/n,” Louis asked, as he came down the stairs.

“No idea, she left a note,” she said, pointing at the small note on the counter.

“I'll be back before sunrise, love you - Y/n”

“And she expects us to believe nothing happened,” Lestat said, as he came down the stairs.

“Why would she lie about that?”

“I can feel when I am being lied to, she's keeping something to herself,” Lestat said, as he went to sit on the sofa.

“Maybe she knows him, but didn't want to say anything,” Louis said.

“She said she doesn't know him, and he wasn't a vampire, I would've known”

“He probably doesn't know that she's a vampire, he could be a distant relative or an old friend-

“Or an old boyfriend, she said he was cute,” Claudia laughed but quickly stopped when the two stared at her with glances of horror.

“I’m going find her,” Lestat stood up.

“I was only messing around-

“You do realize this affects you too, your aunt, mommy, sister Y/n, riding off into the sun with some mortal, or how about this, she turns him, he becomes her companion, and we wake to all of her belongings gone, so tell me, does any of this seem like a laughing matter?” he asked her, clarity washed over her face as she shook her head, realizing how serious the situation actually was.

Standing outside of the shop, you nervously played with your fingers. Unsure what you were even doing, or why you were doing this. He wasn't Aleron, yet he looked like him, could it be reincarnation, perhaps Aaron happened to be a part of the same bloodline somehow. You didn't know, but being around him, seeing him, in your heart you felt like he was still alive.

“Miss Y/n, did you want to buy another perfume, I could open back up?” Aaron said, as he stepped outside.

“Oh no, I'm sorry, I was passing by and I changed my mind,” you said.

“Then perhaps, you'd like to go for a drive? I can't seem to get you out of my head, we could chat a bit, and become familiar with each other,” he offered, hesitantly.

“Sure,” you agreed, following him to his car, getting in as he opened the door for you. Controlling his mind, with the spell gift, you sat quietly, while he spoke, during the ride, driving to the outskirts of Chalmette.

“Y/n, where are you?” you could hear Claudia, but didn't say anything.

“You need to come home, or at least tell us where you're at,” Louis followed.

“If you're with him, I'll tear off his fucking he-

You blocked them out completely, even in his thoughts, Lestat managed to scream. They wouldn't understand, they had their maker, and Lestat seemed fine without Magnus. You never talked about Aleron, not sure where to even start, without a proper goodbye, part of you was left uncertain about so many things.

As he parked amid trees and darkness, you pulled the locket from your pocket.

“Sorry, I figured we could use some privacy,” he said, leaning towards you when you pushed his face.

“I don't want to kiss you, Aaron, I have something for you,” you laughed.

“I-oh my god, this is so embarrassing”

“Don't go yet, we don't know what they're doing, and we don't want to lose her trust,” Louis said, trying to be rational, despite struggling. It was usually you, who was being rational, the mediator, giving them the benefit of the doubt, and he was trying to do the same for you.

“Trust went out of the window when she got into the car with another man,” Lestat was seething, his eyes already red. He was sure that he would be in tears in a few minutes.

“Maybe she's feeding on him,” Claudia said hopeful, a worried expression on her face. Lestat’s words left her sad and anxious. You were a part of the family, a part of all of their lives individually, she wasn't sure how things would be if you decided to leave.

“I hope so”

“Does this look familiar to you?” you asked, holding up the locket.

“I don't know, I feel like I've seen it somewhere,” he furrowed his eyebrows. As he looked into your eyes, you began to glamour him.

“It's yours, you dropped it, but you promised you would pass it down to any future children you had,” you said, handing it over to him.

“I did?”

“Yes, try not to lose it,” you told him.

“I will, thank you for returning it,” he smiled.

“It was my pleasure,” you said, reaching to touch his face, a bloody tear slipping from your eye.

“I wish you didn't leave me, I was so lonely,” you cried, as you held his face, keeping eye contact.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you,” he spoke.

“It’s okay, you have to go, after closing the shop, you went to get some food, and now you're going home, you didn't talk to or see anyone”

“I didn't talk to anyone”

“And tell your cousin you can't stay anymore you had to get back to Chicago”

“You're right,” he nodded.

“I love you”

“I love you, Y/n,” he repeated.

Moving in an instant, he snapped out of the hypothesis, furrowing his eyebrows, as he looked around the car. Shoving the locket into his pocket, he started the car and drove off. High in the sky, you looked down at him, the tears pouring down, a smile on your face.

Flying towards the city, you shook your head, lowering to the ground, stopping in front of the car.

“Y/n,” Claudia gasped, getting out of the car, wrapping her arms around you.

“Why did you all follow me?” you questioned, surprised to see they were so close.

“Why did you lie to us? You said you didn't know him, he wasn't this, he wasn't that, he's like a puppy, we don't have to worry,” Lestat began to swear up a storm in French. Smashing your lips into his, you grinned at him.

“You're too cute when you're jealous, I told you, I only have room for three vamps in my life, and I don't intend to make room for more”

“You had us worried, we tried contacting you-” you interrupted Louis kissing his lips.

“I could hear you, trying to be reasonable, I'm so proud of you,” you told him.

“So what was it? Why did you bring him out here, just to not kill him?” Claudia asked.

“He looks like my maker, we were companions, he was a brother, and when he died, I felt lost. I know it seems dumb, but I glamoured him, so I could say a proper goodbye, I didn't mean to make you all worry and be jealous,” you said, kicking the dirt.

“That's all? how could I stay mad at that?” Louis asked, picking you up, and spinning you around. As he placed you down, Lestat slowly approached, pulling you closer.

“No more secrets,” he said, you could see past his calm demeanor, how stressed he was at the idea of you leaving.

“No more secrets,” you nodded, before grabbing Claudia’s hand, and climbing into the backseat.

During the drive back, you looked up at the sky, as Claudia’s lustrous nails lightly dragged against your hand.

“Why are you giving this to me,” you asked, as Aleron stood behind you, placing the necklace on your neck.

“This was a family heirloom, my father gave it to me, to pass down our bloodline, you are the closest thing I have to a child,” he explained.

“But aren't heirlooms passed down, once the person dies”

“One day, I will die,” he told you, but you shook your head.

“Stop talking like that, you said you have to want to die for you to be able to, do you want to die?” you asked him, worried.

“No, my child, but if I did, you could find love, a companion, or even a coven”

“But then who would be there, with you”

“I've been alone a long time, Y/n, I think I could manage,” he laughed.

“As long as you're alive, I won't leave your side,” you smiled.

“Sounds like I am holding you back”

“I didn't say that”

“If I did, maybe I'd be reincarnated-

“Do you really believe in that, or have you been reading a lot lately”

“A little bit of both, could you imagine that I came back, and we met again”

“I guess it sounds cool in theory, but I wouldn't know how to feel if I saw you all old and wrinkled,” you laughed.

“Then I'll make sure every time we meet I am still young, maybe older than this body, but forever young, in your eyes,” he said.

“You wouldn't want to be a vampire again?”

“I don't think so, eternal life but no family, no children, no physical aging, no sun. When I was a child, I'd play in the sun for hours,” he thought back fondly.

“You have me, I am your family,” you told him.

“That, you are, and I am grateful to say that in my final moments, I have been loved, and I will always find my way back to you, my precious fledgling, until we meet again,” he said, his hand brushing against your cheek before he stood up.

“What?” you frowned, standing up.

“Sit, you must prepare for rest,” he commanded, using his powers to make you sit down.

You tried fighting, tried standing, but couldn't move, only able to watch him walk towards the door. Blood was already trickling down your face, realizing his plan. It wasn't until he was outside, that you were able to stand, rushing to the door, that wouldn't open.

"Aleron, brother, please, open this door," you beat on the door, no matter how much force you put in your hands, the door wouldn't budge.

Finally, you could open the door, crying out as the sun graced your face. As you began to burn, you noticed the pile of ashes. You were too late, he was gone.

Grabbing his coat, you backed into the house, shutting the door, before dropping to your knees, weeping loudly.

"Aleron, oh god,” you screamed, clutching the coat.

Driving past a small gas station, you could Aaron, leaning against his car, as the worker pumped the gas.

“Goodbye, Aleron,” you spoke to his mind, smiling as he looked around, his hand going to the locket that he had put around his neck already.

“Until we meet again, my beloved, maker”

“So I know we're all made up, but could you three wait until I'm out hunting for the makeup sex, I don't think I can take another night of Uncle Les being all loud and whatnot,” Claudia said, making you and Louis both laugh, while Lestat groaned loudly at her already back getting on his nerves.

Maybe he was right, losing him, who, at the time was your everything, made a way for you to have what he never got to experience, your own little family.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac x reader #louis x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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azullumi · 4 months

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"it's you hiding in limelight" ; aventurine

requested by anon — “can you do or already done pre-relationship aventurine headcanons? like what is he like before and how he warms up” premise — it takes a lot for him to trust someone. it’s a gentle and steady process; the fire burns slowly between you and him, and despite the uncertainty whether the flame is going to burn out or consume him in the end, he lets the warmth seep through the cracks of his soul. content tags and warnings — pairing: gender-neutral reader w/ aventurine | pre-relationship, fluff, a little word vomit, not proofread | wc: 0.7k ; headcanons

note from me — i was so conflicted while writing this,, and it doesn't help that i'm trying to figure out if my cat is pregnant or just fat...

It’s not easy to make AVENTURINE warm up.

He doesn’t trust anyone easily, seeing relationships as superficial, as something that is simply a give-and-take thing, a bet, a deal. He has quite a one-way view on relationships, only seeing it as something that would be beneficial to him—it’s not like he knows how to maintain such relationships either. He thinks that showering them with gifts, no matter how expensive, would make them stay, a key to securing loyalty and affection.

So when he finds himself slowly being drawn to you, being at ease whenever you’re around, as he initiates small talks and silly bets, he wouldn’t know how to break it down from there. You’re just so warm and easy to talk to, it’s comforting (like a gentle breeze). He simply keeps everyone at arm’s length, maintaining a careful distance, and yet, like a living paradox, he can feel intimately close at times to you—it’s his subtle flirting, consistent compliments, and often lingering touches.

He is hesitant in all of his bones, hard to grasp, complex and distant, but if you reach even for a little, he’ll let you hold him in your hands. He’s confusing; the thread of his words and actions are intertwined with each other but you can never find the meaning of it. It’s a heavy needlepoint of embroidery that can never be finished, a small part missing from the piece and you could never figure out what it is that you’re lacking. It’s not easy to tell if he sees you only as a friend or something more than that.

You need to be patient and persistent with him, understanding that he himself struggles with the idea of vulnerability; he fears that opening up to pain and disappointment, leaving him on his own in the end. However, over time, he eventually lowers his guard and allows himself to trust you, finding solace in your presence. When the two of you first met, his shoulders were always tense and he kept his emotions guarded behind a mask, but now, he lets go of what he carries even if it’s just for a bit, as long as it’s you he is with.

You can feel the distance closing in, the fine-drawn line of vulnerability and wariness seaming into one. You can almost touch the vanishing point between you and him, intertwining with each other, and you don’t fail to recognize the subtle shift in his actions, in his gestures, in everything about him and all that you knew.

It may be a small and mundane thing but his tendency to shower his “friends” with expensive gifts and asking to choose among which one that they would like—albeit he also does to you on some occasions—all contrasts with the simplicity of the tokens he gives you. He reserves a different kind of gesture for you, one that is laced with thoughtfulness and sincerity rather than the utter value of the gift itself.

Probably brought a bracelet one time and told you of it, but didn’t mention that it has a pair, a matching one, which he bought for himself (and never wore). He has it hidden in his drawers, amidst his precious items, only to take out from time to time to stare at it. It’s a secret he’ll forever take to his grave.

Your constant reassurance, gentleness, and kindness breaks down his defenses, the mask crumbling into unrecognizable pieces. He didn’t think he would trust someone this much, nor would he ever harbor such soft feelings—velveted affections, sweet sounds of laughter, benign words that buries itself in his chest, finding solitude in one another’s presence, basking in the warmth of it all.

Oh, to have someone see him beyond the walls he built, it scares him in some way—when you have forever listened to the chorus of condemns orchestrated by your mind, you’ll only think that you’re unlovable to anyone, that’s how it was for him, and yet to you, it comes easy as if he’s simply tangled threads that only needs to be unraveled carefully and gently. He didn’t know nor did he ever think that you'd see stars on his scars when he laid himself bare for you to see the marks that dusted his skin.

Aventurine feels like he could drown in the feeling. It’s a gentle tide that crawls to the shore and drags him along with the warm currents (the smell of blood is replaced with the taste of salt on his lips); a tender fire that burns slowly, and despite the uncertainty whether the flame is going to burn out or consume him, he’ll let the light in.

GRAH DRUM ROLLS PLEASE IM ANNOUNCING THE PRESENCE OF THE OUTSTANDING AND AMAZING FELI @dr-felitas (sometimes i type in your old user and wonder why it's not popping out and then i just go oh!) anyways, this is for you my fellow dry-talker npc,, i honestly find it cute that we're starting to adopt each other's mannerisms or texting language or pattern cause like i only started saying "right!?" (when i agree on something) because of you (back then i only say real or just nothing at all :D) and i think i began to use some of your vocabulary 😭. and somehow my ability to understand and read through typos are getting better all thanks to you 🔥🔥🔥 the world will end first before you even get to spell that word properly jkjk i love you with all of your typos, incoherent words, stupid autocorrect mwamwamwa (i say as if im im not the same) !! anyways you are a light in my life and you're one of the reasons why i still continue to pick up the pen and write !! you've been of great help and inspiration in my writings <33 without you, i probably wouldn't be able to get through the hell hole of last month, thank you. ily lots mwaa !!

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months

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Holding On To You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite not being too keen on PDA, Daryl craved comfort too. He got that comfort by holding your hand in his. It wasn't always that simple, though. He had to work his way up to being comfortable with that. Luckily, you were a patient person.

Or, three different scenarios in where the archer shows progress in his comfort with you.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre-prison (on the road); pre-Alexandria; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, migraines, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: @louifaith, the muse you are, feeding our Daryl obsessed minds with your beautifully crafted scenarios. I wasn't feeling well today (a migraine and I was pretty dizzy) and didn't get much writing done, but this idea deserved to be written. There's a bit of Eugene slander in this but it's because I don't really like S5 Eugene. He's way better in the other seasons imo. Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The cruelty of life seemed endless. With the stability and safety of the farm being something of the past, having to scavenge for scraps and having to move from house to house every few days, and with the impending arrival of Lori's little baby, everyone's spirits were diminished. Everyone longed for the comfort the farm brought for those few weeks you had all been looking for Sophia, everyone wanted a decent meal to satiate their hunger and although Lori's unborn baby was a reminder that innocence still existed, it was also a cruel reminder that you all needed to find someplace to plant some roots, and fast—especially if you didn't want to attract the dead with the baby's loud crying.

You sighed softly as you quietly followed behind Daryl, yours and his boots making clear tracks in the deep snow. The archer, as observant as ever, noticed your shift in mood and turned his head, eyeing you carefully.

“Ya alrigh'?” he questioned, turning his attention back to the tracks in front of him. Your relationship was pretty new, only having been "officially" together since the two of you had shared a kiss back after the fall of the farm.

You nodded, although he couldn't see you. “I'm fine.”

Daryl hummed, unconvinced. “Yer not fine. I know ya better than tha'.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile, walking a little faster to walk next to him. Daryl slowed his pace slightly to allow you to walk next to him at a steady pace, eyeing you as you adjusted your compound bow over your shoulder—a gift he had gotten you when you had mentioned wanting to learn how to hunt.

“I'm fine, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all,” you replied reassuringly, walking almost shoulder to shoulder with your partner.

Daryl shot you a worried look, fully prepared to head back. “If yer tired, we can go back. This trail ain't leadin' us anywhere, anyway.”

“I don't mean tired in the literal sense,” you corrected. “I'm just tired of all this moving around. Not knowing what our next meals going to be, if we even eat at all, not knowing when our current camp's going to be overrun with walkers, not knowing when Lori's baby's going to be here... It's mentally exhausting. We all need a break.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We could do with a couple' of days where we ain't gotta worry.”

Before you could respond, there was a snap of a twig ahead of the two of you. Instinctively, you and Daryl raised your respective weapons in the direction of the noise, expecting to find a walker staggering towards you. However, instead of coming face to face with danger, you saw a small deer walking over to something in the distance.

Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming to take the shot. However, your hand on his arm halted his intentions. He shot you a questioning look, but you only hushed him and beckoned for him to follow you. The two of you slowly crept closer, the scene before you becoming clearer. The small deer made its way to what was presumably its mother, nuzzling against her legs.

You smiled softly at the sight. Despite the fall of the world, beauty still remained. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was thinking the exact same thing at that moment, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was gazing at you, taking in your radiant smile, the sparkle in your eyes, just everything about you. You truly were beautiful to the archer.

Hesitantly, Daryl brushed his hand against yours. Your smile widened but you made no move to grab his hand, not wanting to scare him off. You moved at his pace, and whether he held your hand at that moment was his decision.

In the end, the only thing he did was link his pinky with yours, and it was a perfect moment for you. In your mind, that was really good progress for a man who wasn't familiar with giving or receiving comfort. You'd wait as long as you needed to for Daryl to be comfortable around you. You'd never push him, never.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The road seemed endless. You listened to the incessant yapping from one of your newest companions in your group of ragtag survivors, Eugene Porter, and had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Despite the euphoria and relief that came with reuniting with your group and having new members that could help you all, you were tired. Not just physically, but mentally, too. It was so much worse this time around than when you were initially on the road two years back. You were sporting a bruised cheek with deep cuts and scrapes littering the rest of your body, and you had a raging migraine.

And Eugene's droning wasn't helping matters at all.

As if sensing your deteriorating resolve at not biting the poor man's head of, Rick finally called for a break. “We rest here for now. We'll get moving again in an hour. Everything you want to do, do it now. Once we move again, we're not stopping until nightfall.”

Everyone soon dispersed, some heading to a nearby creek to refill the water supply, some starting a small fire to heat up some food and some even laying down on the hard ground to get some much needed sleep. You walked over to a tree and slid down against it, resting your head on your knees, willing the migraine away.

You soon heard a rustling next to you, before feeling a body sitting down next to you. You didn't even have to look up to know it was Daryl—the archer's presence was something you had grown used to and you could identify him anywhere.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, loosely hugging his knees. “Ya alrigh'?”

You hummed, lifting your head to look at him. “I'm fine,” you replied. “I just have a migraine.”

Daryl nodded, his face showing sympathy for you. “M'sorry we dun' have anythin' fer yer migraine. I know how bad they can get.”

You smiled and shook your head, placing your hand on the ground beside you, right between you and Daryl. “It's okay. It'll go away eventually. It's not that bad, as long as Eugene's quiet.”

Daryl chuckled, eyeing the aforementioned man who was sitting near the campfire. “Yeah, he's quite annoying, ain't he?”

“No, he's alright. He just needs to learn to be quiet from time to time.”

Daryl hummed and quieted down, simply basking in the early afternoon heat under the shade of the tree while the two of you observed the survivors going about their chores. However, Rick soon called for everyone to regroup, and you and Daryl got up to follow behind him.

You and Daryl walked at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy, and some semblance of relief from Eugene's rambling as he was at the front with Abraham and Rosita. Slowly and hesitantly, Daryl moved closer to you and brushed his hand against yours, before slowly interlacing his fingers through yours.

You smiled up at him, and he returned the smile with a small one of his own. It may not have been the first time that you've held hands with the archer, but it was the first time that you've done so with people around. Although Daryl slightly manoeuvred the two of you in a way that your locked hands wouldn't draw attention if people weren't directly looking at you, it was still a big deal for you. He was starting to show you off publicly. Although people back at the prison knew you as "the hunter's girl" because of an incident where a guy flirted with you and Daryl put him in his place, PDA wasn't something they ever saw from the man. He preferred to keep that part of your lives private—so this simple gesture was a big deal.

You squeezed his hand, a gesture you and Daryl had come up with to quietly tell the other "I love you". Daryl smiled softly and squeezed your hand back.

You truly loved this man, and he had shown countless times that he loved you, too.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You guys should come over again. This was nice,” Eric told you with a smile, him and Aaron walking out onto the porch with you and Daryl.

You smiled at him and nodded. “We will, especially if you're going to be serving that spaghetti you made again. It was delicious. Seriously, thank you. It's the best meal we've had in a while.”

“No thanks necessary,” Aaron replied, waving you off. “It was our pleasure.”

Daryl nodded, moving to shake Aaron's extended hand. “Thanks. This was a hell of a lot better than tha' party at Deanna's woulda been.”

Aaron nodded and withdrew his hand again, allowing Eric to take his place before moving over to give you a hug. You returned it before giving Eric a hug too, and then pulled back.

“We should get going. Once again, thanks for tonight.”

“Once again, it's our pleasure,” Eric laughed. “Goodnight, guys. We'll see you around.”

“Goodnight,” you greeted them.

“Nigh',” Daryl responded, turning to you and subconsciously extending his hand to you.

You smiled at him but didn't say anything, not wanting him to change his mind about it. You slipped your hand into his and walked with him down the porch steps and into the relatively quiet streets of Alexandria, music from Deanna's party playing very faintly in the background.

You and Daryl didn't instantly go home. You simply walked through the streets, familiarising yourselves with the community. Daryl never let go of your hand; he had even brought your hand up to his lips once to kiss your knuckles, and your heart swelled with love for the man.

The two of you had run into a couple of the people in the community who were returning to their homes after the party, and you had suspected that Daryl would pull his hand from yours, but he never did. His grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly during your interactions with those people, seeking your comfort around people he didn't know. It made you feel special, important. It made you happy to know that the man you met back at the quarry trusted you enough to bring him comfort.

Later that night, when the two of you returned to the empty house and retreated into the sanctuary of your shared basement, snuggled up together under the covers was when you finally addressed what he had done. Daryl was laying with his head on your chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes and figures onto your hand.

“You held my hand today,” you told him, softly threading your fingers through his freshly washed, brown locks, the shower having been courtesy of your skillful convincing.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed absentmindedly, nuzzling his face deeper into your chest.

“In front of people,” you said, eyeing his reaction carefully.

Daryl simply glanced up at you, his face not revealing anything. “Ya want me to stop doin' tha'?”

You shook your head. “No, I like it. It's just a little out of the ordinary for you, and it took me by surprise.”

Daryl was quiet for a few moments. “I always wanna hold yer hand when we're walkin' together. I jus' never had the courage to. Dun' want people to overreact when they see it. But, I dunno... I love ya and I'll be damned if I dun' hold my girl's hand 'cause of wha' people think.”

You giggled and kissed the top of Daryl's head. “So I can expect an increase in handholding?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I love you, Dar.”

Daryl placed a kiss to your chest, before laying his head back down. “Love ya more, sunshine.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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