#I get so fragile whenever I think about it too hard don’t touch me

[beenbaanbuun]

tits, ass or thighs w/ ateez

words - 🤠

genre - fluff/smut

warnings - groping (consensual), size kink (yunho), manhandling (yunho, kind of yeosang), kind of somnophilia in sans, mingi is always eating pussy in my fics…, spanking (mingi and wooyoung), i think that’s the major ones…

kim hongjoong - ass

so my theory is that hongjoong likes having you on his lap; more specifically, straddling his lap. whether that’s during sex, cuddling, or just to chat, he wants you sitting on his thighs, staring into his eyes. of course, half of it is about the intimacy of it all - face to face, eye to eye, all that good stuff - but he can’t deny that he really does love the way it gives him the perfect opportunity to grope your ass.

his arms are always wrapped around you to hold you close, and your ass is just the natural place his hands fall. you can’t expect him not to cop a feel when his hands are already there in prime position. besides, your ass is just too nice not to squeeze; it gives his hands something to do whilst you’re telling him about your day… and that’s not even mentioning the way it makes you squirm whenever he’s balls deep inside of you, using his grip on your ass to guide your pace as you ride him into oblivion.

park seonghwa - tits

seonghwa is a gentleman except when it comes to your tits. he is always just touching them, giving some sort of shitty excuse as to why he needs to. ‘oh, i slammed the breaks too hard and didn’t want the seatbelt to hurt you,’ he says as he slowly draws his hand away from where it was just sitting on your breast. ‘i meant to touch your shoulder but i missed,’ he smiles prettily as if that excuses the way he’s pawing at your tit. the way he sees it, he shouldn’t even need an excuse to feel you up at any given moment in time…

because you can’t really blame him for wanting to touch them constantly. he likes soft, cute things are your tits? well they just happen to be the softest, cutest things around! sue him if they’re like magnets for his hands! he can’t help the way they draw them in now can he?

jeong yunho - thighs

BIG HAND ON THIGH I REPEAT BIG HAND… ON THIGH!!!! like when he’s driving you places?!?!? or even when you’re just watching a movie together?!?!?!? UGH!!! it just makes you feel so small and protected and the thought of you being so small and fragile for him? that shit makes yunho weak at the knees. it’s even better when he gets to squeeze your thighs and feel your plush flesh under his fingertips. he likes the way it never fails to make you wriggle in your seat.

and i’m sorry but it all comes down to the fact that this man definitely has a size kink and whatever he can do to make himself feel like the big strong knight and you his tiny little damsel in distress, he will do it. unfortunately that means that he literally always has his hand on your thigh just to show you how big he is compared to you, and just how easy it would be to manhandle you into any position he wants…

kang yeosang - thighs

i think i’ve spoken about yeosang being a dom enough on this account, so i won’t go into any more details about that. all i will say is that he loves pinning you by your thighs. pretty boy is so strong and he just adores the way you helplessly squirm as he holds you to the bed by them. he will literally torture you for hours with his face between your legs, but you can’t even buck your hips with how tightly he’s holding onto your shaking thighs.

and don’t get me started on the bruises he leaves in his wake. he’s spend hours kissing and admiring the fingerprints left on your skin the day after, trailing over them with his fingers and his tongue until he has you squirming and begging for him to give you more. there’s rarely a day goes by where you don’t have tiny purple marks painted up and down your thighs…

choi san - tits

san likes to cuddle something when he sleeps, right? since sharing your bed, that something has become you. he likes his arms wrapped around your waist and his head pressed to your chest, your soft flesh acting as the fluffiest pillow in the world. it’s even better when you play with his hair, sending him into a sleepy daze in minutes.

and it’s not his fault when you wake up to him rutting against your thigh, face pressed between your tits as he incoherently mumbles about how gorgeous you are. actually, it’s yours for sleeping without a bra on. how is san supposed to not be horny when he wakes up every morning to your pretty nipples poking through his tshirt that he let you sleep in. it’s only right that you help him fix his problem, right? that you let him drool over your boobs as he dribbles cum onto your thighs?

song mingi - ass

with the amount i talk about mingi being a slut for eating pussy, i think we all saw this coming, right? like your ass is just the perfect place to hold onto while he tucks in to his favourite meal. he especially likes it when you’re sitting on his face and he can just grab it, using it as leverage to pin you to his face when you start to become oversensitive from his rough licks.

and don’t even get me started about how feral he gets when he eats your pussy from the back. literally eyes closed, moaning like a whore as he licks at you from behind. loves to just grope you while he eats you out, pinching and smacking it every few seconds because he adores the way it makes your pussy clench and squeeze out even more of your precious fluids. he’s literally a bitch in heat when it comes to eating pussy, you will never convince me otherwise

jung wooyoung - ass

he’s a smacker… that’s all i have to say. any time, anywhere, you always need to be on guard because you never know when wooyoung is going to come up behind you and just smack! he likes the way it makes you squeal and blush, thinking you look the most adorable when you’re pouting and scolding him for spanking your ass in the middle of a grocery store! most of the time he just gives you a cheeky smirk before promising - with his fingers crossed, of course - that he won’t do it again.

and he can’t lie, he likes the way it feels in his hand too. the way it jiggles from the impact hypnotises him, and it’s always a struggle for him to pull himself away and not do just one more. but it’s fine, because you never complain when he has you face down ass up in bed, hands raining down spank after spank on your pretty cheeks until they’re red from the impact.

choi jongho - tits

i’m 90% certain that if you’re in a relationship with this man, your tits will become his new favourite thing. whether that’s to look at, to play with, to suck on, it doesn’t really matter. what does matter is they’re his and he will never leave them alone. like he always insists that you wear no bra at home so he can see your pretty nipples; even better if you’re wearing a thin white tshirt too so he can see the colour of them through the material.

the no bra thing also helps when he has his hand slung over your shoulder and he’s pawing at one of them like it’s a stress ball. he won’t even be paying attention to you, yet his hand will be rhythmically palming your tit, his finger flicking against the nipple every so often. and then after all that, when you inevitably ask him to deal with the mess he’s made between your thighs, he’ll have the audacity to act like it’s your fault that you’re horny! he’ll still fuck you though, and you’ll still end up with a nice selection of new purple hickeys across your chest…

[euphoricfilter]

domestic daydreams:

[cheese sandwiches at the park tomorrow]

pairing: influencer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || established relationship || non-idol au ||

summary: a window into the life of jeon jungkook

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: just lots and lots of fluff its sickening

notes: am slightly tempted to turn this into a mini series because there's so much to talk about...

where you can find all my other stuff!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

Jungkook thinks both you and himself had always been connected by the delicate knots of the red string of fate. Possibly a constrictor knot, because it only ever seemed to grow tighter with every moment you spent together, impossible to untie as your souls start to intertwine and lives mingle into one.

His ever-growing infatuation with you, evident to his online audience.

Because he had no issue showing you off, talking about you in videos and sharing you with the wider world. He thinks it must be a tingly sort of satisfaction he gets, knowing that no matter how many faceless people love you, he will forever love you more. No matter how many people compliment you with how pretty you are, comments flooded with praise for your mere existence, he will forever appreciate you the most. Your entire being a precious little thing that he has sewn into his fragile human heart, yours forever to keep.

He knows he’s able to touch you in ways no one else can. He knows he’s able to wake up to you each morning, press soft lips to soft skin, warm under calloused hands as eye lashes tickle tender skin as the sun leaks through the curtains. Each passing moment peacefully quiet until you murmur his name, fingers pressing into his skin as you pull him closer for a kiss.

He’d started posting online only months before meeting you, a little creative outlet to get rid of that itch of not taking media, but rather choosing game design. A subject he loved dearly, though desperate to visualise his life through moving image and all the cool things that come with that.

And during the months of you talking, his presence online slowly started to take off. What had once been only a creative outlet morphing into such a huge part of his life. Something he had wanted to keep from you for so long, a little whisper in his brain worried it would send you running. With some of the comments he received, dms from both men and women alike, he wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up to you.

And he knows in hindsight it was a silly little worry because you loved every part of him. Loved that he shared little parts of his life with so many people. Passions clipped into videos, well-loved equipment laying around his apartment, something so wholly Jungkook you found yourself beaming whenever he would get the tripod out to film himself cooking, or planning a design for an assignment, or just little clips of nature when the both of you go on walks.

Because what had once been a video diary for Jungkook had slowly become a video diary for you too, perfectly crafted memories that you find yourself watching when you’re alone. Always so hard to keep the smile off your face as you see how happy you are. Because that’s what Jungkook makes you; incredibly happy.

You watch as he tries to balance his phone against a bag of pasta neither of you had wanted to put away the night before, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you watch him struggle.

“Why don’t you get the tripod?” you murmur, catching his attention.

Jungkook turns to look at you, eyes a little wide, “Because I just want to film me making our lunch” he tells you.

“Besides—” he continues, “that would mean I have to go into the bedroom, and I don’t feel like being apart from you today” he says as he turns back to his phone, fiddling around with the settings a little so the light from the kitchen window wouldn’t look so harsh.

Your lips quirk up into a smile, toes curling into the floor.

“I would come with you” you sit up a little straighter, catching a glimpse of his face on the screen of his phone, “we could even hold hands too”

Jungkook pauses, hands pressing into the counter as he narrows his eyes at you over his shoulder, “Are you patronising me?”

Your nose scrunches up at that, “No” you start, “just so you know, I love holding your hand”

He hums, “Well then I guess you’re lucky… I like holding your hand too”

“Oh—” your eyes widen, “It’s gonna fall”

Jungkook winces when his phone tips forward, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he lifts it back up again.

You push the chair away from the table, slipping your own phone out of your pocket, laying it flat against the counter so his will stop slipping.

“Thank you, baby” he leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek, face only an inches away from yours when he decides it isn’t enough and presses a firm kiss to your lips too.

“Now,” he nods, “let’s make us lunch”

You push yourself to sit on the counter by his phone as he hits record, smiling up at you as he starts talking.

“Me and Y/n went shopping earlier and saw this new cheese I wanted to try, so I’m gonna make us sandwiches for lunch” he says, pulling the chopping board closer to himself as he pulls the drawer open to get a knife.

“Cucumber” he shows the camera, quick as he cuts it up, “and today we’re having tomatoes, but none for the pretty girl because she doesn’t like them” he explains, showing off the produce his dad had been growing in their garden, proud smile on his face as he hands you a slice of cucumber to eat while he finishes preparing lunch.

You slip off the counter when he calls you over, hesitant to step in frame and see yourself on camera. Jungkook steps a little closer to you, arms slipping out of frame to hold your hands as he looks down at you, so much adoration in his eyes.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes” he whispers, already knowing where your hesitation stems from, “always such a pretty little thing”

You glance over at the camera, video still recording, “Jungkook… your video” you murmur.

“Doesn’t matter” he shakes his head, “you know you don’t have to be in it if you don’t want to” he tells you, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, yeah?”

“We could film something tomorrow” you say, “we should go to that park again, maybe have a picnic?”

His lips quirk up into a smile, “I’d like that” he nods, “And if this cheese is any good, we can make even better sandwiches”

“Good point” you nod, “I’ll have to take you up on that offer if you make a solid lunch today” you step away from him, eyeing the finished sandwich sat on the chopping board.

“I always make the best lunches” he tells you, reaching into a cupboard for two plates.

“Our favourite girl doesn’t want to be on camera today” Jungkook mumbles, mouth half full of food as he looks at himself before glancing at you on the opposite side of the table, “But what’s the verdict, baby?”

You chew, nodding as you give him a thumbs up, Jungkook returning the gesture as his eyes curl up into a smile.

“Love you” he swallows.

“Love you too” you pucker your lips, watching as he leans over the table to press a kiss to your lips.

[stars-and-inkpots]

A Distance I Can't Close (Yet) | Astarion x Reader

Astarion's thoughts get the better of him sometimes, and old habits die hard. But you know him too well, and you are both patient and incredibly stubborn.

Pairing: Astarion/reader

Tags: Astarion's Past Abuse, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, hurt/comfort, angst, angst with a happy ending, self-hatred, self-loathing, mentions of sex, mild suggestive content

Notes: I listened to A Pearl by Mitski for an hour and projected a lot and this was the result

Ao3 Link: A Distance I Can't Close (Yet)

You’re far too patient with him. Far too patient when he’s like this . In one of those moods where everything is wretched and awful. One of those moods where he is wretched and awful. He snaps at you, shies away from your touch even though he wants so desperately to move closer. What he wants and what he feels he should do makes this awful dissonance in his mind. You’re so gentle with him, and it makes him feel sick. 

Of course, whenever you try to ask him what’s wrong he brushes you off. Paints on his usual smile and says everythings fine. He can’t fool you anymore. He knows this. He feels guilty every time he answers, watching you frown and walk away again. 

But then there’s the fear that blossoms in his chest when you walk away. The fear that one day you’ll realise that he’s a lost cause. You’ll grow tired of waiting for him to talk. How can you love him if he gives you nothing to want? He needs you to want him. He needs you to love him. He pushes you away so much, and yet the thought of being alone again fills him with such an unbearable terror. And yet, there’s a part of Astarion that thinks you deserve better than him. You deserve to love someone who doesn’t recoil at every touch. You deserve someone who will believe you when you tell them you love them. He’s paranoid, he’s fragile, and he’s pathetic. 

“Astarion?” 

He hears your voice, but it sounds more distant than it is; like he’s only an observer in his own body. 

“Astarion, are you alright?” 

You don’t touch him. He’s more than aware of that. Your hand hovers uncertainly above his shoulder. Of course you don’t want to touch him. 

“Excellent as always, darling,” he answers, voice smooth and not his own. He can’t tell you the truth of how he feels, it would only make you more inclined to leave him. 

“Alright.” You sound resigned. 

Panic flares in him again. You are getting tired of him. 

He can fix this. 

He needs to fix this. 

“I’m sorry, love, I was just distracted. I assure you, I’m fine. Though, would you do me the honour of accompanying me in my tent later?” He forces himself to bring his hand to your face, fingers brushing along your jaw. He feels guilty for having to force himself to make such a gesture. He should want to touch you. He should want to be close to you.

You smile, seemingly believing him this time. 

“Of course. I’ll be there soon, I just have to speak with some of the others quickly.” 

You leave again, and he watches as you make your way over to Halsin. Jealousy gnaws at him for a moment, but he quickly pushes the feeling down again. 

Everything will be fine. 

He can fix this. 

--

When you finally arrive back at his tent, Astarion is already inside waiting for you. 

It’s cosy; the small lantern leaving the room pleasantly dim while shadows dance across the tent walls. Astarion is sitting on the mass of blankets and pillows he’s put together. He closes the book that you’re sure he wasn’t actually reading and sets it aside. He gestures for you to sit beside him, but there’s something about his smile that makes you uneasy for a reason you don’t yet understand. 

“Hello, lover,” Astarion says as you sit down. He leans closer to you, resting a hand on your knee. You smile, but it fades a little when you remember your earlier conversation with him. 

You know he doesn’t tell you everything. You don’t expect him to. Healing from everything that’s happened to him couldn’t be easy. You just hoped that he really understood when you said that you would always be there for him. You will stay by his side however he’ll have you; be it friend or lover. 

“Astarion, are you sure everythings okay?” You bring a hand up and tuck one of his curls back behind his ear. You don’t miss how Astarion tenses the second your fingers touch his skin. 

“Like I said earlier, darling, I am perfectly fine. I just missed you is all.” He moves to kiss you, and you let him. The kiss isn’t soft like you expect it to be. It’s rough, heady, and makes your face flush. Astarion’s hand on your knee moves slightly, massaging circles into your thigh. 

He sits in your lap, knees on either side of your hips, straddling you. When he kisses you again, it’s all tongue and teeth. Then he’s kissing along your jaw and down your throat, and you can’t help the near whimper it drags out of you. One of his hands finds the edge of your shirt. 

The realisation of what's happening hits you all at once. 

Despite the intimacy, Astarion is too rigid. His shoulders are still tense; all of his touches are too methodical and forced. 

You hold his face in your hands, pulling him away from your neck to look at him. He looks at you, but you know he’s not really here with you, his eyes distant. He’s doing this because he feels he has to, not because he wants to. 

“Astarion, talk to me.” 

Your voice pulls him back to the present for a moment, and you watch as the careful facade crumbles, if only for a second. It’s replaced quickly with fear. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, seemingly confused. “Have I done something wrong? What changed?” He sounds hurt, almost panicked. 

“It’s okay, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you’re quick to reassure him. “Do you really want to do this? You know I never expect anything from you, right? I came here content with the idea of just spending time with you, I never expect anything more. I love you, Astarion. You don’t have to do anything to ‘earn’ that love. You have it. You will always have it so long as you want it.” 

Your words finally get through to him, and he finally breaks. Still holding his face in your hands, you watch as the tears begin to fall. You shift slightly, letting go of his face to hug him while he cries into your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out between sobs. “I’m sorry.” 

You hold him tightly, fingers brushing through his hair while you whisper reassurances. 

It takes some time, but eventually he stops, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to continue crying or because he’s truly finished. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again. 

“You don’t need to apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” You kiss the top of his head. “You should never feel like you owe me anything. Healing takes time.” 

“You deserve better than me.” 

“Enough of that,” your voice is gentle and soothing. “There is no one else I want to spend my time with. I could live hundreds of times over and I would still choose you. Everytime. You mean so much to me, Astarion. You cannot change my mind; we both know how stubborn I am.” 

Despite it all, you feel him smile against you, albeit slightly. 

The two of you sit in silence, still holding each other. Eventually, you move the two of you so you can lie down, but you keep holding him and he very clearly has no intention of letting go either. 

“You don’t have to deal with it alone,” you whisper quietly after a while. “I mean it, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, be it reassurance or space, just tell me.” 

Astarion finally looks up at you, and you wipe the remaining tears on his face away with your thumb. He holds your hand on his cheek, keeping it there for a moment. 

“Thank you.” He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself. Instead, he kisses you. It’s different from your earlier kiss; this one is patient and careful. This kiss holds no attempt at seduction, no expectations of something more. When you part, you press one more kiss to his forehead before he tucks his head back under your chin. 

Astarion can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, grounding him. 

How you still love him is a mystery to him; a gift he does not believe he deserves yet, even though you are so adamant that he does. He will try though. He will try for you. Healing will take time, as you said, but knowing you will be there with him regardless makes it a little easier. 

[aemondsvisenya]

Okay I NEED more girl-dad!Aemond - headcanons or a full on oneshot, I don’t mind, I just need more of it

YESSSS, girl dad Aemond is THE BEST

I absolutely WILL write one shots/fics about it, I’m just super busy right now and headcanon posts usually help me figure out how/what to write anyway, hope that’s okay!

I also included a reader who is AFAB/pregnant because I wanted to touch on some pregnancy headcanons, but I’ve tried to avoid reader pronouns, hope that’s okay!

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

💚 Aemond Targaryen as a girl dad - Headcanons 💚

This man lives for his daughters, quite literally LIVES for them

When you’re pregnant for the first time, Aemond is so ridiculously happy, he truly doesn’t think he can get any happier.

He’s admittedly somewhat anxious because he wants to be a good father, and he’s a little worried that his child will fear him because of his eye and scar, or even that he’ll be a terrible parent like his own father, but you set him straight and tell him that your child will adore him as much as you do.

He will be nothing like his own father, he vows - he will never make his child feel unwanted or unloved, like they aren’t good enough

The whole pregnancy he’s so attentive to you and your needs, talking to your growing belly in High Valyrian and stroking it softly; he’s in awe when he feels the baby kick against his hand, eye wide and an involuntary smile curling his mouth

He picks out the egg for her cradle himself, spending hours looking at all the eggs before choosing a sapphire one that you think matches the one in his eye. He makes sure it is incubated and ready for the arrival of his child, determined that they will have a dragon and not suffer like he did when he was young

When the baby is born, he insists on being at your side so that you’re not alone; it disgruntles the maester but he’s firm that he wants to be there the moment the child enters the world, he wants to be there for their first breaths. He also wants to make sure you’re not alone, he knows all too well that childbirth is a risk and he can’t bear the thought of you being alone for something that might potentially endanger your life

It all goes well, thank the gods, and as the maester lays the baby in your arms, he says to your husband, “congratulations, my Prince; you have a healthy daughter” - Aemond thinks he’s about to weep as he looks down at his daughter, falling in love with her immediately because she’s so perfect, she looks every inch a true Targaryen with her pale hair, and she has inherited his eyes. He vows he will always protect her, will always make her smile, will be the best father he can be to her - and you know he means it.

She is named Visenya to honour his dragon’s first rider, a true Targaryen warrior and queen

Aemond does everything with his little Visenya; it’s common to find him reading with her tucked in the crook of his arm when she’s a baby or on his lap as she grows into a toddler, smiling fondly as she babbles away to him. He insists on being in the nursery with her whenever he can, much to the surprise of the ladies who are charged with looking after her, and he can never part from her for long

He introduces her to Vhagar a few weeks after her birth - you’re extremely nervous, it must be said; you trust your husband, you have no doubts he knows what he’s doing, but Vhagar is so gargantuan that it’s hard not to worry a little about your baby. But Vhagar is remarkably calm as Aemond shows her his daughter and says she is called Visenya, and when he decides to take his daughter on her first dragon flight, Vhagar glides slowly and rather gently for someone of her size, like she knows to be careful of the fragile baby her rider has strapped to his chest

It’s obvious that your daughter LOVES Aemond just as much as he loves her

Visenya is a total daddy’s girl, she has him wrapped tightly around her little finger and she knows it: he will do anything she asks, whether it’s read a book or give her a hug or even take her dragon riding. She is so spoilt, his little princess

A couple of years after Visenya, you deliver another child - another daughter. You’re slightly worried that Aemond will be disappointed, that he wants a son, and you know that people will whisper; but the second he lays eyes on his second baby girl, he’s absolutely smitten. He loves her so much, just as much as her sister, and suggests that she be named Daenys after Daenys the Dreamer

A third daughter follows, this one named Naerys, then another who is called Jaenara, and then finally comes little Saera… and he’s so overjoyed with each of their births, so happy with all of them, far happier than he’s ever been in his entire life

People do in fact whisper - they say you have not done your duty, you have not given the Prince a son, that there must be something wrong with you and that it’s the gods’ way of cursing the marriage. At first you pay no mind to it, but eventually it becomes too much and you tearfully apologise to your husband for it

Aemond has never been so appalled in his life - he’s furious at everyone who has said such things, extremely furious, but he’s also perplexed because how could anyone think he doesn’t love all of his girls? How could he not love them, all five of them? And how could he be disappointed in you when you have delivered five healthy babes? The gods have blessed the two of you indeed, with five incredible girls and you surviving all of their births.

Anyone who dares mention “trying for a son next time” in front of Aemond ends up with his sword against their throat, his single eye cold as he calmly demands they apologise

Visenya is Aemond’s double; she grows tall and lithe like him, her eyes exactly like his one, and her face is almost the mirror of him with high cheekbones and sharply defined features. Her blue egg hatches into a sapphire coloured dragon that she names Starswift. Her father is so proud when she becomes one of the youngest dragon riders in living memory, and he even trains with her in the yard when she asks him to teach her: he tells everyone around him how excellent his Visenya is, what a fierce warrior she is. He is quite literally the proudest father in all of Westeros

Daenys is a lot like her aunt Helaena, which means Aemond adores her like he adores his older sister. She’s somewhat shyer than Visenya, and she’s very studious - just like her father. She has a big imagination, and Aemond always listens to her when she describes a dream or thought she’s had, no matter how small or silly it may seem to others - he never makes her feel like she’s being ridiculous. Her first egg didn’t hatch, but before she could even get upset about it, Aemond was already whisking her off to pick out a new one that did eventually hatch - a little dark purple one that she calls Nymrax.

Your middle daughter Naerys is very much a princess; she loves dresses and dolls and prides herself on being beautiful. You can count on Aemond buying her whatever fancy toy she wants, letting her have any dress made that she desires, because he can’t say no to his daughters. Being super feminine doesn’t change the fact that she is a Targaryen, however, and she is every bit a dragon rider like her family before her; her egg was a pale pink one and it hatched into a pink male dragon she named Moonfyre - a clever and sly little thing who hates everyone but his rider. He will literally snap and blow smoke at anyone who comes near unless Naerys is there, he is literally like a little kitten with her and she treats him like a spoilt house cat, cooing at him and rubbing his scales.

Jaenara is quite literally the total opposite of her older sister; she’s very much a tomboy and likes to play rough. Aemond chuckles when she, aged three and a half, follows him to the training yard and rather cutely demands that he teach her how to spar. “Like Senya,” She says firmly, picking up a stick; her oldest sister is her idol, but not as much as their father is. She’s not particularly loud or aggressive, but she’s curious and adventurous, she works hard, which are all traits Aemond admires about her. She bonds with a dark green hatchling from the Dragonmont when she’s young, and she calls him Shadowspine, and as soon as he’s large enough to ride that’s it - she disappears for afternoons on end, exploding the world around her, though her favourite places are the ones that have forests and nature.

Finally, there’s Saera - she is quite literally the baby, and she knows it. She knows she’s cute and adorable, and she’ll go up to Aemond when he’s reading or doing something, and just pout until he chuckles and lifts her onto his lap. She even does it at some banquets and feasts that she’s allowed to be at (only for an hour, and she’s escorted by a nursemaid), going up to her father with her big eyes and pulling at his sleeve. Most men would be annoyed at their children bothering them - never Aemond though. He always smiles softly and gives all of his attention to her, all of his daughters. Her pale hair is an absolute mess of curls and tangles, which Aemond fondly brushes for her every morning - he’s gentle, careful not to tug too hard with the brush. Her hatchling is black, much to everyone’s surprise, and she names it Midnight.

It’s not just for his youngest daughter: Aemond does ALL of their hair, braiding it into whatever hairstyles they want, helping them brush it, his fingers deftly weaving and moving through the pale hair they all inherited from him.

Aemond knows what it’s like to be treated differently, the second son, and he’s determined none of his kids feel like that, especially his younger ones. He tries to spend an equal amount of time with each of them, to be certain not to favour one over the other, and to make sure they all grow up knowing they’re loved and protected. Even when they’ve misbehaved and need a stern talking to, he is sure to keep calm and never say something that could make them feel unloved, he never has an unkind word for his girls ever

He’s the kind of father who takes his daughters’ education VERY seriously and will oversee every aspect of it himself if he has to.

They have only the very best tutors and maesters teach them, of course, but Aemond insists on teaching the girls High Valyrian himself. From the time they’re babies, he talks to them in the language of his ancestors - their ancestors. To add, if are to be dragon riders, they must know the language to communicate with their dragons as well as each other

And then there’s his eye… you know that before your first daughter was even born, he was worried that any children he had would be horrified and disgusted by the sight of his missing eye, even when you insisted it wasn’t true at all

Visenya sees his eye by accident when she’s four and sitting on his knee as she pretends to brush his hair with her hand; her fingers accidentally pull at the strap until it comes loose - and then her eyes widen, aghast. You can see Aemond’s eye also widen - in fear, fear that his daughter will look at him and see a monster instead of a loving father. “Oh, kepa, your eye!” She looks worried for him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” And to his shock, she hugs him and buries her face into his shoulder

None of those girls think he’s a monster or hideous or even remotely scary, of course; they all find out as they get older that the patch is covering his missing eye, they learn why the scar is so big and why sometimes he’s in pain, and they do everything they can for him when the pain flares up. Visenya will send one of her sisters to find you, another to fetch a maester, and then she and the remaining two will stay with Aemond and try to distract him, comfort him even. He appreciates it more than even he can put into words - the girls may all be very different from one another, but they are the same in that they are good people at heart because of how they’ve been raised

It warms his heart far too much when Jaenara announces at breakfast one day that she wants an eyepatch like her Kepa and all of the girls then decide they’re going to have eyepatches too. They all just really want to be like their brave amazing father who loves them 🥺

All in all, Aemond is truly the best dad in Westeros to his daughters, he would burn cities to protect them from harm, would murder anyone who dare hurts them in any shape or form, would conquer the world if they asked

{my ko-fi}

[kurishiri]

12 . . . main story

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: mentions of mental breakdowns, neglect, grooming (?), non-consensual touching, attempted child sexual assault, murder, suicide.

Alfons: To be clear, I don’t mind if you want to run away now? I imagine this is rather hard on your fragile, glass-like heart?

Kate: ...Not at all.

(I haven’t yet heard, what I want to know.)

I shook my head firmly and looked determinedly at Alfons.

His smile widened.

Alfons: ——Well then, I will continue.

A: After Elbie’s mother had took her own life, it was a maid who had discovered the body after entering the room.

A: And his father had cried his heart out.

A: Anyhow, the one who had driven his beloved wife to take her own life, was none other than his birth son…

A: …or at least, he thought he was his real son, when in reality he was born from a man who violated his beloved.

A: It must have been an unimaginable crucible of anguish for them.

—— Elbert’s POV ——

Maid: Kyaaa!! Someone… Anyone, come here! My Lady has, she has…!!!

The maid’s shouts could be heard from Mother’s room.

The memories of what had happened that day still remained extremely vague, even in my dreams.

What I could clearly remember, though, was the sight of my father, who was normally gentle and kind, now in a haggard, worn out state.

That, and how he, too, grew to look at me with the same look of fear and hatred that Mother had.

After that, the portrait of Mother that he had loved so much, was painted over in black.

Just by being by his side, Father would break down crying where he was.

And, as if he had gone mad, he would shake his head and shout.

Hugh: AAAH!!

Elbert: Father! Father, are you alri—

Hugh: Stay, stay away from me…!!

H: Please, don’t come close to me… whenever you’re by my side, I feel like I’ll go crazy!!

Father’s eyes were frightened, as if he were looking at a monster.

Whenever I was at his side nearly every day, he would let out screams that surprised the entire manor, to the point his throat became worn out.

—— Kate’s POV ——

Alfons: Eventually, Elbie said—

A: That could have happened because of his ability to ‘make one relive their saddest memory.’

A: Over, and over again, he might have been showing his father the image of his mother’s corpse. 

A: And it was only after joining Crown and learning of his ability that he realized this, much, much later.

(He means that, without knowing his own ability, Lord Elbert stepped on his father’s shadow, forcing him to relive that memory…?)

It was not unreasonable. But…

(When I think about how much Lord Elbert’s heart must have hurt after learning the truth much later,)

a sadness inside was stuck up in my throat, with no way to let it out.

Alfons: Elbie came to naturally stay out of his father’s sight completely.

A: While he had the heart of a child, it was to protect his father. If he didn’t get close to him, then perhaps his father wouldn’t be sad…

A: It seemed that the ‘comfort’ from the butlers and maids started around then. 

Kate: …

My heart beat with a bad feeling.

I could hear my blood pumping through my veins, and that overlapped with Alfons’ voice.

Alfons: Perhaps, at first their intentions were wholeheartedly good…

A: They eventually ended up gathering around his bedside, surrounding Elbie’s lonely, sleeping figure.

A: ‘You must be so sad, and so lonely. But I will save you,’ they said.

A: With gentle smiles on their faces, almost as if they were singing a lullaby—

—— Elbert’s POV ——

On nights when the wind would hit the window in an uncanny way, and on quiet nights when the moon was pretty,

every night, the shadows of several adults would become longer.

Elbert: Stop it… please, I don’t like this… don’t touch me…

Jeffrey: We love you so much, anyone would want to touch you. And because they want to love you, they embrace you.

Jeffrey, while murmuring of ‘love,’ stood behind the adults who were touching my body and stared at me the entire time.

Jeffrey: Your parents were unable to love you, and so we will love you in their stead.

Elbert: …Love…?

Jeffrey: Just how much does your sad and sorrowful, yet beautiful appearance… stir up the hearts of everyone in the manor?

J: You are sorrowful, beautiful… and pitiable, Lord Elbert.

(This… is love?)

I felt uncomfortable, and I grew more fearful.

But, it was true that Jeffrey, and the people who were touching me, didn’t stare at me like Mother had with caterpillars.

(Maybe, I’m the strange one, for not feeling happy about this?)

I didn’t know. But, I had a feeling that I must not go against them.

As the days passed by, the places they touched me changed.

I felt sick, as if I was going to vomit. And the next thing I knew, I started to feel fearful, unpleasant, and paralyzed.

It was probably that I was dirty, because I was someone born from a sin.

But even so, they said that I was beautiful. I was beautiful, and so they loved me.

(If I become more beautiful, then maybe Father will smile again.)

(He might forgive Mother, and… he might forgive me.)

(——I might be able to stay by his side, without making him sad.)

—— Kate’s POV ——

The moon was overshadowed, and within the darkness that resembled an abyss of despair, Alfons narrowed his eyes, as if yearning for something or someone.

Alfons: The final incident happened with a certain doctor.

A: That doctor would do regular examinations on Elbie’s father, after his mother’s death.

A: One day, while doing an examination on Elbie, the doctor invited him to this study,

A: and attempted the same thing that his mother had gone through, to him.

Kate: …

(That’s too cruel…)

At that time, as if being possessed, Lord Elbert’s fingertips were trembling with small and repeated movements.

Alfons: Sadly, beauty brings out the most nauseating desires.

A: I’ll spare you the details on why I was there.

A: But, I did meet him here, right after he had stabbed the doctor with a pair of scissors.

A: What do you suppose he said to me then?

Kate: ...What...?

Alfons: While covered in blood,

——’Am I beautiful now?’ he asked.

Kate: A-and how did you answer?

Alfons: I answered with the words he wanted to hear. As for what that entails... I will leave that up to your imagination.

Alfons’ complexion didn’t change as he shrugged his shoulders.

Alfons: Elbie ran to his father’s room, still covered in blood.

A: It was several minutes after that when, in front of Elbie’s eyes, his father held up a gun... and pointed it to his own head.

Kate: !? But why...

Alfons: Who knows... that is beyond what I know.

A: In the end, though, his perception of beauty had not saved anyone... is what I do know.

A: Well, how was it? This is his ‘sin.’

The curtain lowered on the story so quickly, I looked at Alfons in astonishment.

Kate: I, don’t know...

Alfons: Oh? I’m not sure I can provide a thoughtful explanation... but what is it?

At Alfons’ words, the emotions I kept bottled up were pushed out like a surging wave.

Kate: What... what is Lord Elbert’s sin?

K: Are you telling me his sin was somewhere in that!?

I raised my voice without thinking, and I heard a light laugh in response.

Alfons: The fact that he wasn’t born ‘beautiful.’

Kate: ...?

Alfons: That is what stole his parents’ love from him, and destroyed his happiness...

A: ...and made them sad to the point they wished for death.

Kate: But that... that isn’t Lord Elbert’s sin...!!

Alfons: The objective truth and the subjective one differ from time to time.

A: At present, Elbie is repeating his meaningless atonement.

A: The more happiness he feels, the more he acts on guilt, and he continues to collect beautiful things for those who have already passed.

Kate: —!

Why Lord Elbert so drawn to beautiful things.

And why Lord Elbert didn’t show any interest toward any of the things he collects.

And why he protected me from seeing something scary the night we met.

At that moment, the reason that had seemed obvious but I was unable to grasp connected with a single line.

(That’s too much...)

—— Flashback ——

Elbert: It’s okay if you don’t see it.

E: ...Because, sad memories can easily kill you.

—— End flashback ——

—— Flashback ——

K: Can I ask why, didn’t you resist?

Elbert: ......I’m used to it. And...

E: With that distance, one careless move and... I would have stepped into their shadows.

E: I don’t want to do that to them.

—— End flashback ——

Lord Elbert hated making others sad.

(That’s because his parents’ sadness had cut their lives short...)

(And he was scared that other people like myself would end up knowing that sadness.)

That is surely the kindness Lord Elbert possesses, without a doubt. And...

...as if to prove that his past was haunting him even now, it messed with his heart.

Kate: Why... doesn’t anyone protect him?

K: It’s not just his appearance... Lord Elbert’s heart is also beautiful, and he is a kind person.

Alfons: That’s because Elbie keeps those who try to protect him at a distance.

A: He doesn’t wish to be protected. To him, he feels he should accept the suffering as punishment.

Kate: What about you, though? Aren’t you by his side...

Alfons: And the reason why is because I don’t try to save him, nor do I try to judge him.

A: To him, I am simply a convenient existence.

A: And it’s the same for me. When I’m with him, it’s convenient for me as well. Even if he is slightly troublesome with his habit of collecting and self-harm.

His words were so logical, it was almost revolting, and they seemed to chase me down.

(But, I can’t get mad at Alfons. Doing so won’t change anything...)

Even as I tried to calm myself, though, my head was still wild, showing no signs of calming.

Alfons: It is as you say — Elbie is ‘kind.’

A: After all, the act of ‘having you’ will give him the most pain and suffering, I reckon.

A: ...It is as he wishes, yes?

(If I become Lord Elbert’s...)

Instead of getting the pain and suffering that he so wishes for, what will he end up losing?

Alfons: This is why I said not to dig too deep... you really are foolish, aren’t you.

A: If you really don’t want to hurt Elbie, as you say, the best way to do that is to make him forget his obsession with you.

A: If you need assistance with putting distance between you two, I can help with that.

After listening to Alfons’ story, I felt even more strongly that there was no way I could put distance between him and me.

(Because... I...)

I couldn’t help but feel that he was too kind — and I found that hopelessly endearing.

Kate: Even if I distance myself from him because I don’t want to hurt him...

K: Lord Elbert will simply repeat what he’s been doing, and continuing hurting himself, right?

K: I... don’t want him to hurt himself further.

K: I will stay with him, by his side.

K: And... I will think about a way so that Lord Elbert doesn’t have to hurt himself.

Alfons: When you came to find me, I did have an inkling... so it’s like this.

Alfons said in a small voice.

I could hear a faint sadness in his tone,

but when he raised his head, his usual shady smile played on his lips.

Alfons: ...Well, do as you wish. However...

A: Do not take his obsession toward things he ‘wants’ lightly — let me just leave it at that.

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[formalpeacaps]

2/18/24 Recap

Youuuu guyyyys!!! What a response to my last recap, I was blown away. You’re all so very very lovely, every single one of you, and I missed you all very very much.

Unfortunately while I would LOVE for this to devolve into a sleepover where we all braid each other’s hair and play MASH and pretend we know how to do palmistry, we have an actual job here, which is recapping a Connecticut vlog. I was considering recapping the Dallas vlog, but all you need to know about that is that Paige goes to Dallas, decides she has nothing to wear, goes shopping at Urban Outfitters, and Tommy wins the tournament. It’s nine minutes of pure nothing, while this is a whole 23 minutes of more fonts than substance. Shall we get into it?

I don’t know if it was me or actual copyright threats from YouTube (guessing it was YouTube tbh), but I always make sure to be even-handed and note when Paige does good things, so genuinely glad she learned to use copyright-free music! Yay, learning! She’s still terrible at mindfully pairing music and scene to create an actual vibe, but at least she’s doing that legally. Attagirl! We love character growth!

She immediately follows that up with a title card for “A Cozy Winter Home Vlog by Paige” that’s FOUR, count them FOUR different fonts. They’re different fonts, different weights, different colors, some are italic and some are bold and she’s testing me. I can FEEL her daring me to screencap this so I will get this sub banned, but I won’t fall for it.

Also in the spirit of being nice to Paige, I love the color of dusty sage in her intro Paige is wearing. Both in general and on her. Piling on the nice things because I don’t think I’ll have anything nice to say for the next 20-odd minutes.

It feels important to be making compliment sandwiches right around now because boy can you tell Paige is fragile. She yammers for a bit about how she hasn’t been “home’ and how she “loves” the Florida home (uh huh) but how it’s not the same as Connecticut and how lonely the house feels without Olivia. Miss Girl has gone and flown too close to the sun, and I’m going to just hope that for her sake, the worst outcome of her hubris is that she randomly comes home for a month and makes like four extremely boring vlogs in a row about the importance of mental health and how important it is to take breaks when you’re as hard working as she is and Nance sort of haunts the background, cleaning up Paige’s mess. 

We can tell this is incoming because Paige’s friend from the barn who is vaguely normal looking and normal-shaped is around this ENTIRE VLOG. Like I’m not going to note she’s here because I don’t remember her name and she adds nothing, but Paige is of course never ever alone.

Is my eye twitching when Paige goes on about how she wouldn’t want to have to choose between her work and “all of these things that make me so happy?” Am I holding back a rant about how her idea of work-life balance and her ability to do claim buying fancy cheese and touching fabric samples is hard work is thanks entirely to her very privileged background? Yes. But whenever I do that Paige inevitably in the next few weeks will hollowly say something about how she’s sooooooo aware of her privilege and then have some sort of discussion on how she’s such a role model in spite of it because of her mindful work ethic or whatever and not because of her privilege, since she clearly doesn’t understand what privilege is, she’s just aware it’s a thing she has to verbally note in order to not be completely booed and pelted with tomatoes. I just don’t have the patience to sit through that and break down how contradictory that is. Not again.

“I feel like a lot of young people, working people, wouldn’t necessarily prioritize living in the suburbs” OH NO, nope, never mind, I was just holding my fire. Ma’am. MA’AM. It’s not about PRIORITIZING, it’s that the suburbs are VERY EXPENSIVE. A “cozy house” is PROHIBITIVELY EXPENSIVE. 

“I get it, sometimes it’s a lot easier to live in a high rise” I’m going to scream. I. She really thinks it’s about ease. She really just…… has no clue. She has literally never talked to a normal person or had empathy in her entire life. I’m just gonna take a screaming break. Please hold.

Paige goes to the barn and loves on Navy, then sighs over Louie having Laminitis. I’m not a horse girl so this required some extensive googling, but considering how all her animals seem to get terrible diseases no one could see coming but also everyone could see coming, I have my suspicions.

Paige shows us how organized her closet of sweatshirts is and she literally owns more sweatshirts than I own articles of clothing total.

Oh boy our favorite, PR unboxing ie: undisclosed ads that Paige isn’t grateful for and “donates” (claims she donates everything to a women’s shelter and/or local church, but hasn’t she been caught selling stuff on depop?). The cynic in me bets this is a double dip charity tax write off - she gets the stuff for free and uses it to try and secure brand deals, and then makes money by claiming it as a charitable donation.

Paige also claims the reason shce’s not going to Acapulco out of the goodness of her heart because there was a really bad hurricane and they’re still recovering, but then she drops that she actually has a photoshoot (hah hah oops if only she had people she paid to manage her calendar!). Though in fairness to Paige, when I googled Acapulco to make sure I was spelling it correctly, they did say they were recovering faster than expected and had rebuilt more hotel rooms than they were on target for, but that was before yesterday, when after Paige filmed this they were hit by a magnitude 5.0 earthquake, which isn’t that strong but strong enough to cause minor damage especially to hastily done construction, so. There’s PR from:

Guizio, it’s this set which she somehow thinks will make a great tennis match outfit???? That is for wearing to a Little Bo Peep-themed burlesque performance and nothing else. I don’t currently have time to make suggestions for Paige to wear because she’s only ever going to disappoint me, but this is to just let Paige know that she could win SO MUCH GOODWILL WITH ME if she wore something that was like a SMIDGE of a nod to all the upcoming locations and showed the TINIEST bit of personality.

Stuff from [Editor's note: this list was so long Tumblr refused to post it due to character limits]. part of me was jealous and then I remembered how much anxiety I get when I get a free sample of anything because having too much stuff causes my ADHD to go nuts so actually no, I’m fine not having (gestures) any of that. Call me when Trader Joe’s or L.L. Beans are sending out PR packages and otherwise I’m all good, thank you very much. Anyway at this point I lost track of all the garbage Paige is pretending to be grateful for. Bulgari is in there somewhere. Who knows who cares.

We watch Tommy’s match, we make the same unwashed veggie salad as always. The next day, Paige is wearing a very nice evergreen colored coat or something which is a color I wish she’d wear more because it looks great on her. Unfortunately she wears this as she tries to soften me up for her shipping one of her EXTRA CARS off to LA because it’s soooo difficult to get around LA without one and I just…. Phew. Deep breaths we all understand capitalism is a prison and meritocracy is a myth! Moving on!

Paige is in the car with the unnamed friend and we learn that Paige will not sing which THANK GOD. A fun bit of Pea lore is that I went to a school with a huge theater program (it will shock none of you to know that while I have a good voice and took vocal lessons for fun, I can’t dance and hated being on stage so much that instead of actually performing I always did stage crew instead), and I have said in SO MANY DMs that the only thing that could make Paige more insufferable is if she thought she was a musician. Like imagine if on top of everything about Paige she had Glee Kid Energy. IMAGINE. Think of the bullets we all have dodged.

Navy gets moved to “a little camp” for training. He’s apparently the happiest he’s ever been which like no shit, people are actually taking care of and paying attention to him. I don’t want to shock you all but the trainers said Navy was very poorly trained, so I’m glad Paige has been riding him without a helmet and keeping him for the aesthetic, this all reflects very well on her.

Paige’s parents come over and she makes all the same shit as always, a fifth font is added in the ending card, goodbye until next time.

[ghostdrinkssoup]

just remembered hannibal lecter, intelligent psychopath who likes to eat people just for fun, genuinely fell in love with One patient covered in dog hair and liked him so much and wanted to be with him so badly he ruined his whole life just for the off chance will might come back for him. the monster’s downfall was love and love alone. the one thing he didn’t see coming. how is this show real

[heartache-onthebigscreen]

perfect size - lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x tall/curvy/fem!reader

summary: dating luke concept. you’re only a couple inches shorter than him and thick in all the right places.

warnings: slight language, fluff, sexual innuendos.

*not my gif*

you always mix up your clothes. you and luke wear around the same sizes and he’s walked out of the house rocking your crop tops

you also rock his pants

“babe, you ass looks great in those pants.”

“thanks, they’re yours.”

“wait- what the fuck-“

luke loves to just run his hands up and down your body whenever he can. he touches every dimple and curve whenever he walks past you.

he smacks your ass whenever you bend over

adding a “yowza” whenever you take off your bra

“lovie, you think i could fit in your your bra?”

“you don’t have tits, luke.”

he puts it on anyways and struts around the room.

he swears you’re a milf, his little pet names support it

“sexy mama”

“pretty mama”

“baby mama”

“mama”

you get insecure about your hip dips. but he always rests his hands right on them and kisses them when he can, because he loves your hip dips.

“luke! those are my boots!”

“they have glitter! i have to wear these tonight.”

“i wanted to wear them!”

“you snooze, ya lose, babe.”

at this point, you guys don’t even separate your clothes. you just wear whatever is in the closet.

you and luke’s heights compliment each other perfectly. just the right size for a good cuddle. you fit together like puzzle pieces

makes it hard to fit on hotel beds when you’re traveling, though

“YN! move the fuck over!”

“im hanging off the fucking bed!”

tour bus cuddles are a no-go too

“oh, fuck me.”

“what, hit your head? here i’ll just move-“

you both always fall out of the tour bus bunk.

so you guys just sleep on the floor in the middle of the aisle

luke loves your long legs.

“dayum, baby. your legs go on for miles.” luke always uses that cheesy compliment when you’re wearing shorts

and you love the two-syllable “dayum” he gives you

he’ll rest your head between your thighs, your legs propped up over his shoulders as you both watch a movie.

he runs his hands up and down your legs the whole time.

“YN, please, I’m begging. Squish my head with your thighs.”

you get scared you might hurt him, but you do it anyways

“ooooh baby. that’s it.”

you’re just the perfect height for him to quickly press kisses to your forehead

perfect height for kisses in general, you don’t need to stand on your toes and he doesn’t have to bend too far down

you guys wrestle a lot. literally. he knows you’re not fragile and you guys can get into it.

the boys have walked in on you holding luke in a headlock, then quickly exiting. closing the door behind them

“i can’t believe you let a girl beat you up.”

“next time, m’going for your tits.”

when you wear a dress on outings, it’s always a bit short.

luke is always right behind you, making sure to pull the tight material as low as possible to cover your ass

you always wear bikinis at the beach or by the pool, one pieces never fit just right.

your ass tends to eat your bottoms though, luke happily fixes the slight wedgie. giving a playful slap to your bum every time he helps you out.

“luke…you sure i’m not too big?”

“YN, you’re the perfect size for me. I’m in love with your body.”

[cerona10]

First Aid (Piarles)

“Let me look at that.”

Pierre feels Charles’s touch before he sees him. It’s a sudden thing, one moment Pierre is standing alone in the kitchen, hissing away from the stovetop when the pan spits out sprinkles of burning oil onto his hand, and in the next Charles is there. He takes Pierre’s injured hand into his own, his gaze zeroing in on the patch of skin that has already begun to swell and redden.

It’s a sudden thing, but Pierre isn’t surprised at all. It’s always like this whenever Charles stays at his apartment. They could go the entire day without seeing each other, spend it entirely on their own and in separate rooms, and yet the knowledge that the other is There will always be firmly set.

“It’s just a small burn,” he tries to reassure Charles when his brows begin to furrow. Pierre ignores the searing pain on his hand and gives his best friend a winning smile. “Nothing to worry about.”

Evidently, Charles is unconvinced. He reaches over and flicks the stove off before pulling Pierre over to the sink. “Here,” he beckons, like Pierre is a stubborn mule.

In Charles’ defense, he can be one at times. A stubborn mule, that is. They both can, and that’s half the fun of their relationship. Even now Pierre thinks that this burn is nothing to kick up a fuss about, but there’s something about the firmness in Charles’ voice and the determination in his eyes that draws him and allows him to be led like a horse to water.

Charles opens the faucet and places Pierre’s hand under it. Cool water washes over his hand, easing the ache of the burn, but Pierre barely notices the lingering pain and its fading thereof. No, his entire attention is directed at Charles’ face. He admires the laser-focused expression there, how his entire being is dedicated to completing his task successfully and perfectly. Pierre likes to imagine that this is the look Charles has whenever he’s racing, and to have it be directed at him is nothing short of Pierre’s greatest blessing.

So lost in his own head was he that Pierre didn’t even notice Charles guiding him to the sofa until he sits down and his best friend pulls away.

“Stay here,” Charles says, and that’s what snaps Pierre from his daze. “I’m going to get some ointment for that.”

“Charles, you don’t need to do—” but Charles ignores him, marching to the bathroom and returning with ointment in hand, that Look on his face once more. It cows Pierre more than he’s willing to admit. “…that.”

“It will only take a second.” Charles crouches in front of him, his eyes level with Pierre’s injured hand as he takes it into his own again. Gently, he applies the ointment in a circular motion, his fingers ghosting over Pierre’s burnt skin, and the Frenchman suppresses a shudder.

There’s something about the way Charles is holding him right now, secure and firm and yet gentle all the same. He doesn’t hold Pierre like he’s fragile, like something that can shatter at the slightest touch. No, Charles’ touch is steady and strong, willing to press down a little harder if it gets the job done, but it’s never too hard. He moves with the confidence that Pierre won’t break, not while under his touch. Pierre’s unsure if that confidence comes from skill or experience, of years upon years of poking and prodding, or if he himself just gives Charles that much leeway.

“And… there,” Charles says as he applies the last of the ointment. He gives the burn one last lookover before nodding. “How do you feel?”

His eyes are lighter now, filled with pride and satisfaction at a job well done. The Look is gone, and with its absence, the intoxicating fog around Pierre’s head lifts. All at once, his instincts return. “Like I did five minutes ago,” he teases, lips twitching into a smirk. “It’s just a small burn Charles, I’ll live.”

Charles levels a look of disapproval. “You should take better care of your hands, Pierrot. You need them to drive.”

“Says who?” Pierre challenges. “Who knows, maybe I’ll become the first one-handed world champion.”

Charles chuckles, ducking his head. “Don’t even joke about that…”

He trails off before falling silent. It’s then that Pierre realizes that Charles is still holding his hand. His best friend’s gaze is still locked on to the patch of plink, blotchy skin, his thumb massaging circles on the edge of the burn. It’s there that Pierre catches sight of the worry Charles had tried to hide. It’s just a small burn, yes, and Pierre knows that Charles knows that. He also knows that that won’t stop Charles from worrying anyway.

Well, that won’t do at all. He squeezes Charles’ hand. Now it’s his turn to be the firm one. “Seriously though, you did good work. It’s feeling better already. If F1 doesn’t work out for you, maybe should consider becoming a nurse.”

Charles huffs, both exasperated and amused. “Good to know I have options.” He gives Pierre’s hand one last look before lifting his gaze upward to meet his best friend’s eyes. “Still, If I am to embark on this alternate career path, I do have one condition.”

There’s a noticeable shift in the air, one that causes the hair on the back of Pierre’s neck to stand upright. He trembles in anticipation. “Name it.”

Charles pulls Pierre’s hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the burn. Pierre’s breath hitches. This kiss—this one kiss—makes his pain fade faster than any remedy could ever hope to. When Charles speaks, it’s barely above a whisper, with his lips leaving phantom touches on Pierre’s hand. “If you ever have another injury, you let me and only me take care of it, okay?”

Pierre’s heart leaps to his throat. That’s it, he can’t take it anymore. Pierre grins and yanks Charles up. “—Come here, you sap!”

Charles jerks forward, a high-pitched whine escaping his mouth as he stumbles onto Pierre. Pierre catches Charles, but that sends him tumbling down onto the sofa as well. It all ends up with Charles on top of Pierre, and the Frenchman takes a moment to admire his best friend’s features, still dazed and surprised from the sudden movement, before tilting his head up and stealing a kiss.

Again, Charles lets out a squeak of surprise before realizing what was happening. As soon as that happens though, he melts into the embrace, returning the kiss with great fervor. The pain on Pierre’s hand fades completely, and there’s nowhere else he would rather be than in the here and now.

They stay like this for the rest of the night, basking in each other’s presence, hunger and dinner forgotten. When they finally fall asleep on the sofa, Charles’ hand remains intertwined with Pierre’s, firm and secure.

[lokiskitten]

hello i love ur works omg idk if ur still accepting reqs or suggestions regarding ur stepdad! tom imagines but what abt an imagine in which tom attempts to end the secret affair between him and the reader and then the reader is heartbroken so she gets herself a boyfriend which makes tom jealous then smut ?? idk HAHAHA tyyy

Tom Hiddleston | forbidden behavior

Stepdad!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : around a week after your stepfather called it off regarding the bond you two had developed, you are caught hanging out with a couple of friends in a café. Noticing his presence outside of the building, you decide to join him only to receive the most peculiar lecture of your life.

warnings : stepdad!trope, stepdad x stepdaughter intercourse, jealousy, slight physical abuse, kissing, crotch groping, handjob.

A week had passed since your stepfather had decided to end the relationship the two of you had progressively developed behind your mother’s back. You obviously took this as betrayal, an unnecessary decision which easily led you to develop hatred for the older man- especially after he had managed to convince you that the moments you spent together filled him with as much bliss as it did for you. But these times were now over, and your first mission easily became to avoid him as soon as you penetrated inside of your own home. Before your mother, both you and Tom were obviously forced to make an effort in order to keep your secret on the low- scared that any suspicious behavior would lead your past to come flashing under the lights of the projectors.

On a warm Friday evening, you had decided to stop by a café with a couple of your friends in order to celebrate the end of the week. Within this group stood Trystan, a boy you had finally agreed on offering a chance after breaking up with Thomas. He was nice and well educated, a mass of long black hair covering the top of his head as well as his neck. The young man also brought home plenty of nice grades, which could only be a green flag to your high expectations holding self- adding up to how he had offered to help with your mathematics homework after school. Now this was a proposition you jumped on immediately, but which you knew wouldn’t be able to take place within the walls of your house- and that due to your dragon of a stepfather.

Being too busy laughing with your classmate, you hadn’t noticed Tom’s presence outside of the café, his body leant against his car as he watched you fall for someone else. In fact, he had been following you on your way back home from college nearly every day of the week- satisfying the weird obsession he held for your younger self and easing his crippling anxiety and possessive behaviors. Seeing you with another man couldn’t have driven him more upset, his fists clenching out of pure anger within the pockets of the suit he wore for work. Minutes passed by, and the older man remained leant against his car whilst growing more and more impatient regarding the sweet words and touches you appeared to offer the black haired boy. These touches he knew so well were meant to be his, and this overall sight easily led the adult to regret ever breaking it off with you.

When your head finally looked up in order to divert through the open doors of the café, your heart tightened upon witnessing the stern silhouette of your stepfather waiting against his car. Embrassement and fear progressively started to fill your organism, face decomposing whilst your friends continued to laugh with one another. Thankfully, it didn’t take long until Trystan noticed the way your mood had unexpectedly yet drastically changed. “Hey, Y/n?? You’re okay?” He asked on a concerned tone, his empathy leading your stomach to grow a couple of more knots at the thought of your stepdad witnessing such a scene. “Yeah..I’m fine. I think I’ll be going home now.” you responded politely, catching all of your mates off guard though none of them did a thing to hold you back. They could tell you appeared sick and pale.

“Take care.” Lizzie purred out as you swung your bag over your shoulder, the group’s curious eyes following your silhouette which exited through the door of the café only to end up joining an older man who stood nowhere far from here. Swallowing your saliva, you attempted your best to keep a rather proud expression on your face in order to push Tom a bit closer to the edge. You were aware that he absolutely despised it whenever you held an attitude. “Hi.” Your briefly said, not fighting the situation as your feet immediately started to lead you towards the other side of the car. “Who’s that guy you were with?” Tom immediately asked as he got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him. You mimicked his gestures, and the two of you were now sat in the front of his vehicle.

“Just a friend. Why is it important anyway?” You answered harshly, leading your stepdad’s anger to rise above the edge. “Right.” He responded coldly, both of his hands firmly holding onto the steering wheel as he began to drive away from the café. Silently, you watched the way his veins popped out of his skin due to the pressure applied onto his palm- the way his jaw clenched easily matching with his overall tensed and aggressive behavior. Without showing any form of weakness, you simply decided to behave as if you were indifferent face to this situation. You couldn’t exactly tell where Tom was taking the two of you, but even after your breakup you still trusted him well enough not to bring any harm to your fragile mind and body.

You felt surprised and confused to watch him park his car in a nearly empty parking lot, the upset male obviously seeking intimacy for the peculiar lecture he was about to give you. But again, he remained unexpectedly silent, his jaw and chest being the only parts of his body which remained in action. He couldn’t appear to find proper words, though was he truly seeking any? Gathering your courage to take the first step, your lips parted shyly, a single word barely getting enough time to come out of your mouth before you were violently cut off by your stepfather. “Tom-“ you began, body jumping due to the man’s unexpected and quite violent reaction. His palm had collided with the steering wheel, as if the only sound of your voice made him remember about what he had seen back at the café. It was the first time you ever saw him behave in such a way. Usually, he was always calm, friendly. Anger wasn’t an emotion he often felt the need to summon.

“What were you thinking?!” He blamed, the accusations penetrating your ears and leaving your poor mind clueless regarding what he was referring to. All you could tell was that his tone carried hatred, and that therefore his overall body was probably full of this exact same wrath. “Tell me, what were you thinking?” He repeated, this time on a slightly softer tone though this unwelcome touch of dominance remained. Pressing his head back against the seat as air escaped his lips, you finally found the strength to step forward and explain yourself. “He’s just a friend from college. He doesn’t stand up next to you.” You promised, the words escaping your lips as if you two had never put an end to your inappropriate relationship in the first place. “I think about you every day. I think of us.” You added, growing hopeful face to how your words appeared to progressively calm him down.

Tom’s head turned towards yours, ocean blue eyes locking with your unique orbs as the empty parking lot made it feel as if the world around you had stopped. The way his chest moved up and down as he breathed led something to rise within your soul- a sensation you hadn’t felt for over a week... ever since he had decided to put an end to your affair. His veiny hand moved up to your cheek, fingers brushing against your cheekbone before he took the initiative to delicately push a bit of your hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to see this boy again... ever. You’re mine. My property.” He spoke gently though asserted dominance, allowing you to loose yourself in his soothing tone. However, his head was soon to tilt to the left, his upper body moving closer to yours in order to steal a kiss.

You understood the signals and moved forward as well, his hand still on your cheek as your lips collided against one another’s. His jaw roamed air as Tom took the initiative to intensify the kiss, enjoying this moment after he had been craving the taste of your flesh ever since he took the stupid decision that was ending it all between the two of you. Within a matter of weeks, you had managed to make your own stepfather crazy about you and your aura, your body, flaws and qualities. And whilst Tom continued to enjoy the taste of your lips, your nostrils were filled with bliss as they were finally allowed to breath in his cologne again, a smell you had terribly missed. No scent could’ve potentially replaced the infamous perfume that was your stepfather’s and which you had grown used and attached to through your multiple intercourses.

Growing more and more heated, you took the initiative to slide your hand down until his crotch, fingers tightening against the thick material of his suit which allowed you to feel his prominent bulge through his pants. Tom groaned out of satisfaction as you began to massage his flaccid length which had yet to harden through his trousers, hips buckling upwards just so slightly as if his crotch desired to remain stuck to your palm forever- and that through the help of a denser contact. The warmth which emitted from his groin felt delightful under your bare fingers, a sensation which could only make you crave for more. And so did he. Keeping his lips against yours, your stepfather proceeded to slide both his hands down between his thick thighs, digits unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in a rush which finally allowed you to penetrate within his intimacy.

Sliding past the elastic of his briefs, your hand was soon to come in contact with the slightly hardened member which resided down Tom’s pants. This once he moaned, the vibrations penetrating inside of your moist cavity before his tongue slid inside of your mouth. You were soon to hold up a rather satisfying pace, rubbing up and down his shaft and stopping only when you felt the need to offer him some extra pleasure by giving attention to his testicles. The male broke the buccal contact to collide against his seat, eyelids shutting close as you carried on leading his cock towards orgasm. His member had now hardened properly, revealing his true and generous length which had recently been pulled out of his pants. Just like before, Tom found pleasure in thrusting his hips upwards and participating to the intercourse a bit more than he already was.

“That little boy of yours.. is his cock this big?” Your stepdad asked through seethed teeth, having trouble finding his words due to his clenched abdomen and twitching nutsack. “No...” you responded, being slightly out of breath due to the heated kiss you shared earlier. Hearing these satisfying words coming out of your mouth, the older man couldn’t help but raise his shirt in a hurry before white semen began to sprint out of his overly sensitive urethra, his shaft twitching and contracting in order to propel the sperm out of his crotch. You bit down onto your lower lip face to such a delightful sight, hand moving down to his testicles in order to praise them one last time. This move made your stepfather shiver. You two had finally found yourselves, and it wasn’t any time soon that the older man would ever agree to let go of you again.

“And as you can see... I’m not dead”- all jokes but yes, I am alive and giving the people what it wants😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t very good tho🥺 I hope y’all are taking care!

taglist : @theaudacitytowrite @devilsuga @bucky-soldat @winteralpine @fa-me @ineffablefanic @delightfulheartdream @rosie-posie08 @marygut1407 @wildxwidow @tabea3 @lokistoriesreblog @arzennn

[arcadejohn127-9]

ALSO- I have a request! Brothers (+royals if you want) reacting to an MC who is extremely affectionate once they like someones- gives hugs, praises often, gives gifts, does their best to help when they can- but if any of this affection is returned they cry. Hard. Because they're emotionally constipated and any affection or love they receive overwhelms them- this also embarrasses them extremely-

Damn.... didn't think I'd feel called out by a prompt request XD it seems my time has come!

I'm guessing royals are Diavolo and barbatos so I added them but if you ever request again and someone you wanted wasn't here, feel free to comment and I'll make sure to add them

Brothers + Diavolo & barbatos with an overly affection MC with issues

Lucifer:

He grew use to your affection ways

The words of praise when you notice he finished a work load

Or when you'd pat his head when he was tired

At first he wondered why you would handle or touch him likes he's a fragile doll but he grew to love how gentle you were

Subconsciously he'd lean his head down whenever he completed a task expecting a head pat

Even if you weren't there but if he's caught he'll just pretend he was tired

Lucifer wasn't always the most affectionate, especially as he rarely shows how much he genuinely loves the people around them

He decided to return the gesture, you recently got a high grade in a class you were struggling in

He patted your head, giving it a light ruffle

"You did good, you're improving alot - it's very promising."

Didn't expect you to start crying, aggressively shoving away your tears

"what's wrong? Did something-"

"I just- this is embarassing- you patted my head and people don't really do that for me and I just-"

"Ah, I see, then I shall do it more often."

"even in public?"

He was never a public man, wanting to get his softer side hidden in the protection of his soul and the walls surrounding his room

But here you were, crying because he simply caressed your cheek

He wants you to be happy and feel as loved as he does

So he'll happily push his walls down for you

"if it means this much to you, then yes but let's keep it appropriate."

Mammon:

"How's my handsome super model?! Did it go well? Aww you look tired, let's get you rested, okay?"

He's so in love

No one has ever made him feel this mooshy and love sick and he's ANCIENT

He's use to his brothers always insulting him - he likes a good tease and making a rude remark about each other but they tend to push it

They hit his Insecurities and think he can handle it because they're demons

But he wasn't always

Then you came along, giving him head pats and words of praise

Always standing up for him

He fell for you so quickly and so hard

He basically turns into a puppy when he's with you

When you left with Satan to get groceries he had to be forced to not go with you, waiting at the stairs for you to come back

As soon as Satan left with even your bags included, he came bolting for you

Leaping into your arms and squeezed you tight, insisting he didn't miss you but just got bored

The way he's nuzzling your cheek says otherwise

When you began crying he immediately panicked

"Did Satan do something to ya?! I swear I'll beat-"

"I'm just not use to others being as affectionate as I am back to me - it's okay."

"Huh?! Well I guess the greatest demon of all time has to be that person, that's me! Don't forget it, okay?! I'm going to smother you."

Mammon is already a touchy person but knows to be respectful, since that day his hands are always on you

Either holding your hand, touching your shoulder, petting your hair or just Hugging you

Levithan:

Levithan isn't one to give or receive when it comes to affection

He tends to get overwhelmed by just a head pat and gets embarassed if his fingers accidentally brush against yours

You're an overly affectionate person

He's a simple man who needs self worth

It's definitely a good duo

You've learned to be more vocal about your praises and affections, still testing the waters with physical touch

But from time to time he'll ask to get a head pat if he's really proud of himself

Has made you call him your little pog champ

"Levi are you- oh sorry you're streaming- I'll just leave these here."

He was confused until he saw the section dish filled with different snacks with a energy drink in the middle

He almost teared up

"No! Stay with me, they'll like you!"

In an act of no thoughts and boldness, he pulled you into his lap

You fell awkwardly and was half straddling half on his side

As soon as you got comfortable you hide your face In his neck forcing back tears

Not wanting to cry on stream

"You're so sweet, levi, I'm sure your followers can agree."

He literally short circuited

Hiding his face in your shoulder as he got flustered

"You're sweeter than me, you're always being nice to me - I really lo- like you for that."

Anyone who watched that stream now ships you - the non believers didn't believe all the stories he told about you but now they had physical proof

That stream was re-upload so many times with comps filled with him gushing about you

Levithan is determined to make sure you never see them but it's too late and you cried with joy in your room

Next time you saw him you kissed his cheek and he immediately melted

Did kiss your cheek back though but did it so quick and harsh that you stumbled backwards

Satan:

Someone being gentle to him????

Someone who doesn't keep away from his because of his sin????

Who??? What??!!

You're the who! he was SHOCKED you were so happy to get close to him and just treat him so kindly

He made a theory on the Devildom detectives group that you're actually an angel but it backfired by demons just telling him he's got feelings for you

He does but he didn't expect to get called out on a whole forum

"You're really smart, thanks for always helping me with my studies - I've found It alot easier to study and remember all my notes now, you're a good teacher!"

He's so smitten with you

You could be saying the most disgusting or insulting thing and he'd still smile and nod

He needed help getting food for this secret but really not so secret pet cat and you gladly accepted to help him

When you two were just spending time together in his room and when suddenly picked up his cat

You didn't think too much of it but grinned when he booped the cats nose onto yours

"thank you for being so kind to me- it means alot."

the cat was like you; overly affectionate so it didn't surprise you when it started gently pawing at your face and giving you little kisses

"I feel embarrassed by admitting this so I'm letting Chaos show how I feel."

He avoided looking at you

It would be for the best as you started crying, taking the cat from his hold and kissing it's head repeatedly

"and that's how I feel about you trying to move through your discomfort and be open with me."

His cheeks are BURNING

Holds your hand throughout the rest of the hang out

Asmodeus:

You're being gentle and affection despite Everyone perceiving him as a sex hungry annoyance?

You're immediately his favourite - sorry Solomon

You always understood his protectiveness over his appearance

Fixing his hair and pushing back stands if you ever pet it

You didn't need to but you always told him you washed your hands before touching his face

You always did these simple things to make him feel at ease

But he loved your touch

No matter any comment he makes; he adores you and just being able to have these tender moments with you

He knew you were special to him when you walked in on him

Barely awake, hair messy, no makeup or moisturizer - he didn't look even the slightest bit appealing

And just smiled, looking at him no differently even when his voice came out tired and croaky

"You're really pretty even when you just wake up, it's so unfair - what's your secret?"

"because it's me, darling! I always look good~"

Internally, he was freaking out about how you liked him at what he deemed - his most unattractive state

So it only made sense he became more touchy and grew closer to you

"are you sure I look good in this? I know you're very up to date with fashion."

"You look stunning, I haven't seen a bad look on you yet, perhaps your charm is just as high as mine."

He was holding your hips, smiling as you both looked in the mirror

He wrapped his arms around you, leaning on your shoulder

"I think you look good all the time, you're just amazing like that."

You tried to hide your tears but he could see them, immediately asking you what's wrong

"Nothing- I just- that means alot coming from you and you're always being so affection towards me....its really nice."

He just hugs you tighter, smiling

"I just treat you how you treat me, you're a real angel."

Beezlebub:

This guy is worried about so many things

He's scared of hurting you

He's worried if he gets carried away with touching you he'll make you uncomfortable and his gluttony will act up; wanting more of your tender touch until he feels full

The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable or you feel forced to be affectionate to him because he could throw a fit

He's always ashamed of his hunger tantrums

But when he does do affection it's either carrying you or holding your hand

But was so happy whenever you cuddled hi against him or when you gave him praise

He could spend the whole day with you running your fingers through his hair, telling him he's a good demon and that he means something to you

"Can you finish this for me? I'm not feeling that hungry right now."

You offered your bowl to Beel, he happily took it

As you two spent time with each other he noticed you eyeing some of the more sweeter things set out on the table

He gently pushed it towards you

"Eat if you want it, I'll share."

You waved your hand, not wanting to take food from him

"I'm just snack-ish, I can't eat a meal right now."

You knew how hungry he could get and didn't want to leave him peckish

You knew that small feeling could easily turn into something bigger

But he just nudged it closer to you

"You eat what you want, I'll have what you don't finish."

You finally agreed, knowing he was insisting on you to eat with him

He patted your head, smiling as he watched you eat

"are you sure you won't still feel hungry?"

"you make me feel full, it soothes another type of hunger in me, it's nice."

He grabbed your hand, nuzzling his cheek against it, he couldn't stop smiling as you just looked at him in surprise

You finally grinned, tearing up and shook your head, you leaned against him and continued eating

Gripping his hand tighter as you pushed back your tears

Belphegor:

He was spoilt

Beel was always looking after him, helping him get ready for school and drying his hair, carrying him around when he was too tired to walk

And you were only fueling his spoilt nature

You always showered him in affection

Petting his hair whilst he laid his head on your lap, combed his tail, told him he looked cute

"My precious little belphie, are you feeling okay? I noticed you were struggling to sleep today at lunch."

Whilst he believed he looked intimidating with his heavy bags and sleepy grin

You found him adorable, treating him like a sweet innocent boy on those special nights of just you two cuddling

It's been a long time since he's felt innocent

You were always checking in on him

Making him feel special and cared for

He was a soft mess in your hands

"Hold me more, your hands feel so nice~"

He placed his hands on yours, making you gently squish his cheeks

"Don't you wanna cuddle?"

He raised a brow, a smug smile growing on his face

"it seems you want to."

"we don't have to-"

"If you wanna be held just ask, I'm more than happy to hold you."

He wrapped his arms around you, shifting his position and buried his face into your chest, humming as your hands ran through his hair

He gave you a small squeeze

"It feels good to be the one hugging you, you're always so comfy~"

He began murmuring how much he loves this time with you, drifting to sleep as he praised you, letting himself mindlessly go on about how wonderful and sweet you are until he started to snore

You let your tears fall

Holding him closer as you softly thanked him for his words

He just hugged you tighter in his sleep, his smile growing

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

This man is TOUCH STARVED

the fact you're unafraid to be with him and around him is already amazing but you freely hold his hand and pat his head

He thinks he's knocked his head and been taken to the celestial realm

People are intimidated by his title as prince and having you so care free in his company is new for him

So of course he enjoys how affectionate you are!

He embraces all your touches and praise!

He's even had you sitting on his lap during meetings, letting you hug him after a tiring day of studying

"You did great today, I really felt your passion for this new project, I think the students will really enjoy it!"

He gets so happy everytime you even look his way

Your smile alone fuels him for the whole day

"Meet me in the castle today, there's something I need you to do for me."

You agreed, not thinking much of it; most likely a new update on the school fair

What you didn't expect was to be greeted by shopping bags and gift boxes and even a human sized teddy bear with demon horns, you tried to ignore them as Diavolo came jogging down the steps

"What did you need me for?"

"I want you to see what you like, I bought as much as I could before Barbatos stopped me, I hope they're up to your liking."

You were speechless

You felt as if you touched the gifts you wouldn't be able to hold back; you were excited to see what he got but you didn't want to seem too excited

"Please, go ahead - it's all yours unless something is not up to your liking."

You finally went through the shopping bags; there was clothes, products, jewelry, shoes and all other sorts of items

You hugged the giant close to your chest, choking back on your tears

"thank you-"

"No need to thank me, you're always so kind to me I just wanted to return the favour."

Barbatos:

You were a like a breath of fresh air, someone he could just go to

He can unwind and be rewarded for his efforts and others normally don't notice

Whilst his lord was always praising him, it felt different with you

It felt so joyful

You would brush through his hair, always thank him even if he's just doing his job and always seem to be in awe at what he does

He'll never forget the gloves you gave him, sleek and a perfect fit with a cursive 'B' stitched to the edge - they were enchanted to warm up whenever he got cold

"Wow! You prepared all this?! That must of taken you ages! You're really amazing, Barb."

"I'm simply doing my job but your praise makes it all worth it."

Often invites you to the castle for tea

He'll make any excuse to have you come see him; the prince wants to talk, he wants a hand with a recipe, he needs an outsider's opinion on something

Whatever he can come up with; he will use it

You might as well just stay in one of the guest bedrooms because you're always coming to the castle

Speaking of excuses; today Barbatos decided to thank your lovely behaviour

Convincing you to come to the castle and meet him in the dining hall

"I saw you eyeing some recipes whilst helping me in the kitchen so, I made you them AND wrote down how I did it exactly so you can make them any time you like."

"I- you didn't have to do that! Thank you for this, they look delicious."

"I always wanted to give you this."

You couldn't even ask what it was

He already held it up for you to see

It was a box of gloves with your the first letter of your name stitched onto the edge

They were heat up gloves!

"I thought you'd appreciate your own as they'll always be handy but the gesture of matching with someone you're close to is very appealing."

He helped you put the gloves on, pinching the tip of your fingers to make sure they fitted properly

He held your hand, admiring how it looked in his

You couldn't stop a few tears forming, smiling

You felt abit silly crying over heat up gloves but you couldn't help it

"I want to match with you more often, perhaps one day it'll end up being a ring."

[royalty-subway]

Ok so how about the twins with a s/o whose only Pokemon is a Hisuian Zorua (Bonus if the Zorua is really shy)

Oof. I got like three of these requests. So oof. I might as well delete the two other ones since I don’t think it’s necessary to point them to this- (especially if it’s from the same anon)

I always found Hisuian Zorua either the shy or timid type.

I know I did Hisuian Zoroark before, but it’s not like it matters because I love this boi so much.

Sordward

… He tries his best to put on a straight face. Like, this thing is so adorable, he can admit that. But he’s not letting his guard down since it can make illusions and such.

He just has a bit of difficulty expressing his “omg, this thing is cute” thing. He probably just ended up softening his posture and attempt to pet them-

Until it ran away or screamed, which is fair, dude has questionable hair, who wouldn’t run away from him. Okay, the real reason was because they’re shy. His opinion on shy beings is confusing, but he’ll make an exception here because they look polite.

Perhaps he’ll give your Zorua some personal space, since they’ll just run away if they even catch him looking at them. He really wants to touch the… ghost hair/fur thing- (it’s a bit hypnotizing-)

I mean, whenever your Zorua gets near him. They’ll probably start running away before he can even say “hi”. He feels a bit shitty about that since he thought he did something wrong or if he was that scary-

Shielbert

… Aw. This thing actually looks cute. And pretty frail, your Hisuian Zorua probably ran away from him when he tried to get near it.

*Now cue him asking where you found this creature and then freaking out by the fact that you time-traveled and brought a past Pokemon into the present time*

But I mean… this thing is pretty cute. He wishes this Pokemon would still be a thing in the present day (I mean-). He would pet it and carry it, but since it’s pretty shy, the Pokemon will probably hide away from him because of that action.

He was a bit surprised, and yet, he expected this and it’s still adorable. He would try to get near it again, but he realizes that there’s no point, so he’ll stop.

He tries to be nice towards them in hopes they’ll give him a chance. Like, speaking softly or giving it a peace offering. If your Zorua dares to get near him, he’ll stand absolutely still since he doesn’t want to frighten them again-

Emmet

Aaaawwwwww baby arctic fox go brrrrr. He loves this thing so much. He treats them like it’s his actual child. “Don’t you ever talk to me or my son/daughter ever again”.

But he’s a bit taken aback when your Zorua showed their shy side. He didn’t expect it, but hey, he knows what it’s like to have shy Pokemons; his Pokemons are a bit shy themselves if you believe it.

And he loves shy Pokemons. They’re just the best for some reason. I mean, usually when he’s with his shy Pokemons, they sort of “loosen up” a bit, as in, they’re not as shy as before and willing to do something fun with him.

But your Zorua might be a different story since it screams when he “chases” after them. He doesn’t wish to scare them, he just wants to befriend them by doing it in the worst possible way imaginable without even realizing it.

Okay, for real, he does want to befriend it and he might try too hard. Until he just lets Zorua do whatever they want. If they want attention, then he’ll definitely give them some. If your Zorua wants to be left alone, he’ll respect them.

Ingo

Well, again, he was in Hisui at one point. So he knows where you got Hisuian Zorua from. Although maybe it’s not a good idea to bring past Pokemons, but you do you.

He’s aware that Hisuian Zorua is a bit of a fragile Pokemon. Not that they run away from danger. They just prefer to avoid confrontation, but they will defend themselves if needed.

He might’ve attempted to pet them, but they ran away, which kinda took him by surprise a bit. But hey, he understands and he’ll apologize for his actions.

He respects the fact that your Zorua is shy, and he tries not to scare them away. He’ll mostly let his Pokemons talk to them (if his Pokemons don’t scare them) or feed them berries (as a kind gesture).

I mean, whenever your Zorua gets near him. He tries not to move fast or make any sudden movement to scare them. And if your Zorua tries to get near him, he’ll either let them be or attempt to gently pet them if they’re asking for it.

[colinrobinsonn]

ahhh I never write fics but here’s nandor x guillermo after this week’s ep 🥺

- x -

Guillermo sat on the front steps of the house after driving back from dropping off the Baron, the Sire, and the hellhound at their new home in New Jersey. It had been a long, long night and he should really be heading to bed but he just needed a few moments of quiet.

The night air was sharp and the dark sky had only a few clouds overhead. Today had been successful, yes, but also very scary. He wasn’t thinking about facing the Sire, or the Baron again (although it had terrified him). No, he could not let go of the horrible feeling he’d been having all day that he may lose his entire family.

He heard the front door open quietly and he turned round to see Nandor coming out the door and walk towards him.

“Ah, Guillermo, there you are. What are you doing out here? It’s fucking freezing.”

“Just taking a minute.”

Nandor came and sat next to Guillermo on the same top step, looking out onto the street and then up at the sky as Guillermo was. It was quiet for a few moments between them, then Guillermo turned to Nandor, “Was there something you wanted, Master? You were looking for me?”

Nandor didn’t turn to look at him as he said, “Oh, nothing…”

“Okay…” Guillermo let the silence linger on.

“It’s just-“ Nandor began before he noticed Guillermo shiver. He was only wearing his shirt and waistcoat and the sun was, obviously and fortunately for Nandor, yet to come up. “You’re cold.”

Guillermo put his arms around himself, “Yeah, I guess it’s a little chilly.”

“Why don’t you go back inside?”

Guillermo shrugs, not being able to explain why he wants to be outside right now. Maybe he’s enjoying sitting here peacefully with Nandor under the night sky too much. Maybe he needs to clear his head. “But your fragile human body is going to freeze to ice. You don’t want to be made into an ice chip do you, Guillermo?”

“What? I’m not going to-“ he shakes his head, huffing quietly from Nandor’s ridiculousness, “I’m fine.”

Nandor stares at him, fangs bared, like he doesn’t believe him, like he really will turn into an ice chip in a few moments. “Eesh, fine. Here,” he says as he unclasps his black cape and drapes it delicately over Guillermo’s shoulders, and then quickly turns back to look at the sky.

Guillermo froze - not into an ice chip - but out of surprise, slight nervousness, and an uncertainty about how to react to Nandor’s… kindness. “Thank you, Nandor,” he went with, looking up at his strong profile.

“You are welcome, you will not freeze now and I will not have to defrost you and ruin my precious Persian rugs,” he replied matter-of-factly, nodding his head and putting his hands straight out on his knees.

Guillermo grabbed the cape and brought it round his body to wrap up in. The material was very warm and as he brought it up towards his chin he became very aware of being surrounded by Nandor’s very distinct and familiar scent: of oils and incense and musk, of history and comfort and home.

Nandor looked at his bodyguard and felt his dead heart constrict. The sight of Guillermo snuggled into his cape with a content smile on his face challenged Nandor. It challenged him to give in. To give in to feelings of softness towards Guillermo which he mostly did not allow himself to give into, and was always weary of whenever he was around him. Or saw him. Or thought about him. For Nandor, it was Him, for he had become everything. Everything he believed in, everything he fought for, and everything he smiled for. It is suffice to say, he did not win the challenge, but it felt good to lose.

“Guillermo-“, he took a quick breath in and held it, “I came to say that I am sorry for what happened today.”

“Huh? But we did it, we-“

“Just-“ Nandor put his hand up to tell Guillermo to let him finish.

“I am sorry for how you were treated today and if that hurt your feelings. I mean, it should hurt your feelings but I don’t know if you always let it.”

“Mas- Nandor, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Guillermo said. Nandor could literally be talking of about twenty different points today where his feelings could have been “hurt”.

“You know what I am talking about,” Nandor growled, impatient. He shot up off the steps and paced in front of Guillermo. Did he want to make him feel even more ashamed? He guessed he deserved it. He calmed his voice, “I am talking about the time when I allowed for you to be used as bait for the Sire.”

“Oh.” Guillermo breathed out, looking up at Nandor who had stopped his pacing now and was looking at Guillermo. There was a small silence, and then Guillermo also stood up and walked down the steps towards Nandor, cape still round him and falling far below onto the floor.

As he stood in front of Nandor, Nandor could not stand how adorable he looked wearing his cape, oversized on him. It made him feel… protective and proud.

Nandor was too caught up in his thoughts so Guillermo spoke first, “That’s my job, right? To protect you?”

“Yes, I suppose it is…” Nandor said quietly, unsure as Guillermo approached him further.

“But I would have done it anyway. I always would have.” It’s true, he went the extra mile whilst he was his familiar and even before he didn’t know of his bloodline.

Nandor did not know what to say to that. So instead he focused on how the cape was falling off of one of Guillermo’s shoulders. Without thinking, he raised his arm and pulled the material back up and around his shoulder.

He did this with such care and without agenda that it made Guillermo choke up slightly. He felt tingly all in his chest and willed himself to hold on. To not fall too far tonight, as he did so many nights, especially since Meg’s comments at Massive Fitness. As much as he was committed to Nandor, he could never let himself believe that Nandor felt the same.

The small act felt unnaturally natural for Nandor. When he fully comprehended what he was doing, he did not have the instinct to jump back and push Guillermo away, to tell him to get out of his way. Instead, the act made his next words come much easier.

“Guillermo… it should be my job to protect you. You came into my life, and it is a dangerous one. I have… taken too much from you, and you should not be willing for me to take your life.”

The double meaning was there. Yes, he was talking about what happened today, but Guillermo could not help but apply Nandor’s words to his own vampiric dream.

“No.” Guillermo could not, would not, keep going on like this. “It’s not that you have taken too much from me, Nandor,” he said with conviction, “it’s that you haven’t given me enough.”

“Guillermo…-“

“I’d die for you,” Guillermo said bluntly and laughed, “you know that? I would actually die for you. Not become undead, not become a vampire, I would die.”

Nandor looked away from him and took a step back, “Do not speak this way, Guillermo.”

“And I’m fine with that, I am,” he continued, “you’re not taking anything away from me, I’m giving it to you, because I want to. Because that’s how I feel.” Guillermo felt breathless from the outburst and he was slightly shaking, not just from nerves, but because the cape had unwound itself from his middle and only lay across his shoulders again. He shook his head slightly; tonight of all nights he was going to go there. “How do you feel, Nandor?”

“I-“ Nandor was stunned and his brain was working overtime to keep up with his little ex-familiar.

In all of his anxious tension, Nandor’s hesitance was too much. Guillermo huffed and span round to go back inside.

Nandor’s chest clenched and his heart fell, he couldn’t stand the sight of Guillermo walking away from him anymore. “Wait-“ he said as he grabbed Guillermo’s hand and gently pulled him back round to face him. The cape fell off his back.

Guillermo looked up at him, small tears in his eyes as he waited with little hope. His optimistic heart started again, however, when Nandor brought his hand up and drew his fingers through the front of Guillermo’s hair, sweeping it gently to the side and pushing small strands behind his ear. Guillermo’s heart was beating so hard he was sure Nandor could hear it, feel it even. His hand landed delicately on Guillermo’s cheek, like he was touching something precious, and he leaned in.

As their lips touched tears ran down Guillermo’s cheek which Nandor smoothly wiped away with the pads of his thumbs, as he brought his other hand to Guillermo’s other cheek. Guillermo was once again encased by Nandor, except this was the real thing and infinitely better. Guillermo’s hand found its way to Nandor’s neck, his fingertips pushing their way into his hair.

The kiss was gentle and undemanding; a shy but loving meeting with someone you have loved for years. Nandor pulled away but only slightly, so their foreheads rested against each other’s. Their eyes were both closed as they breathed unevenly with each other.

“Guillermo, I would die a thousand times over for you to have one more minute alive.”

Guillermo, teary, giggled dizzily and with relief at the vampire’s words and opened his eyes to find Nandor’s still closed.

“Hey,” Guillermo said as he leaned away and gently urged Nandor to open his eyes by putting his hand under his chin, “so… we’ll protect each other, right?”

Nandor had opened his eyes and was looking down at Guillermo who wore a bright, understanding smile on his face. His cheeks were quite pink and so Nandor leaned down to pick up the fallen cape and pull it back around the smaller man. He held on to Guillermo’s hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the top of it, where the knuckles lay. “Always.”

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: John

Requested by @apollonshootafar

Preference Masterlist

Warnings: Reader going through a hard time, touch aversion, sexual remarks and suggestions, swearing and mentions of injury

Word count: 1608

Author's Note: I'm nearly done with these, just had a bit of a block trying to get this one done. Hopefully you like it and if you do, I absolutely love to hear your comments and I appreciate your reblogs. I think John might be a little OOC here, but I tried. I'm always here to talk if you need it.

(Gif by @peakascum) (and....)

(Gif by @talicat713) (cause that face holding thing john does is the premise of this fic)

John always loved to have his hands on you, his cheeky grin pressed into the side of your neck as he whispered jokes and suggestions to get you giggle. And it wasn't just when the two of you were alone. No, he seemed to become all that more handsy (if it were possible) whenever his family was near. You often said it was as if he were claiming you, showing his possession with each imprint made on the softest parts of your body. Like a bloody dog pissing on his property. He just gave you a shit-eating grin and called you kinky. You rather liked the attention, to be honest. It wasn't as if it were violating or unwanted, even if you've rolled your eyes at his touch more times than you could count. Truth was, he made you feel attractive. Desirable. Good. There never was a time when his hand on your hip made you feel anything but loved or safe. Your big bad Blinder boyfriend who pouted like a wounded pup when you were too busy washing up to hold his hand. John may have made his constant touching seem like a thing of bravado- a masculine need to claim and possess. However, the both of you knew the real reason why the two of you were attached at the hip: John was clingy as hell. When you'd confronted him on that hypothesis, his whole face turned red, right to the tips of his ears. He was stuttering out excuses (it was a damned strange thing to see you smooth-talking lover start choking out sentences) and you swore he was making his voice go lower, trying to gain some fragile sense of masculinity. In the end, you just grabbed his belt loop and pulled him to against the front of your body. You felt all of him relax as soon as he felt the warmth of your skin seep through both of your clothes, the feel of your hand at the bottom of his abdomen and your lips barely an inch from his. His hands immediately wrapped around you, all embarrassment cooling off him in a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, love, it'll be our little secret, ey?" You whispered as you stroked through his hair. After that, John had continued being just as bold as the day you met him when you were in sight of others. As soon as you stepped into the threshold of home, though, he was nigh-on begging for your touch at every available moment. You were used to him teasing you, trying to excite you and get into bed whenever the house was empty. But when you were dishing up dinner, with the grumbling of four hungry kids, the last thing you wanted was John pawing at your busy hands for a touch. His touch had always been a wonderful thing- then it wasn't. You didn't know when the change began, only that your tired muscles didn't ease when his strong arms were wrapped around you, your heart didn't flutter like it used to when he kissed the back of your hand, and you didn't feel so warm when he grabbed your waist at the pub. All you could feel was the uncomfortable imprint of skin, and you didn't know why. You still loved John. God, did you love him. You loved when he smiled at you from across the room, eyes ignoring every other person that as vying for his attention, and landing entirely on you and only you. Maybe you were a bit possessive too. You loved him when he came home from long nights, weary and barely mumbling a good night as he jumped into bed next to you. He snored like a lion and fell asleep quicker than the four kids in the room next door. You loved him when he cam home bloody and beaten. He always at down in a chair whilst you tended to his cuts and bruises, his hands between his knees and head bent like a prayer, and you always presses a kiss to his forehead before he even started to recoil from his position and hold you, his head pressed against your belly. You loved John. But his touch had lately been too much. Of course, you didn't tell him that. You were pretty sure John would die if he wasn't close to you for even ten minutes, he'd die, and you weren't willing to test out that theory. Instead, you gave a little smile when he came up behind you as you washed the dishes and wrapped his arms around your waist. You let him nuzzle his nose into your neck,

letting the discontent be seen only over his shoulder. It made you feel fragile, and stiff. John was asking you more and more, "Is this okay?" and "Can I touch you please?" and each time you perfected the art of saying yes convincingly. Sometimes though you watched him, snoring the house down at night, and whispered the words in the dead of night where not even the monster that lived in Katie's wardrobe could hear: "Help me, John." It was at the Garrison where you spilt over. After a long day, you were looking for a drink with your mates not another chance for John to grasp at you. You were just sat side by side in the snug, laughing at some stupid joke John had made (at the expense of their dear and absent cousin Michael) when you felt it. As soon as he had caught his breath after calling that certain 'big boss' a prick, his hand had landed on your knee. It shocked you at first, as John had been remarkably restrained all night. You thought it was cause of Tommy, who'd given both of you the side eye when you'd walked in, and said he didn't want any funny business. He hadn't touched you till that moment and it made you freeze. It took one flinch of your knee and his hand slipped away, but it didn't slip from sight. You could feel all the eyebrows in the room raising, even John's. "Hey, you and Y/N having a tiff ey, John boy?" Arthur chuckled to himself. You knew you must have made a face comparable to the horrible feeling inside, because as soon as he said it you saw his smile drop into regret. Arthur wasn't really a thinker, so you knew he never meant to say anything. Still, you didn't let him say his apology as you muttered something about being tired and jumped from your seat, walking out of the Garrison so quick you could've swore you were running. "Y/N! LOVE, HEY WAIT!" You heard John scream at you from down the street. Subtlety wasn't his specialty. You turned around, the tears stinging your eyes not quite clouding the clear worry on his face. "What's wrong, hey, love, please-" He stepped forward to hug you but you took a step back, head nodding wildly. The hurt in his face was as painful as if you had smacked him. And you hated yourself for it. "What did I do?" His voice trembled. His voice never fucking trembled. "I'm- I'm so fucking sorry, John, I love you, I swear." You felt every ounce of guilt in you swell up and pour itself into tears. "I don't know what's fucking wrong with me, why I can't just let you freaking touch me!" He moved forward again, arms out in a hug. Then he stopped, realising what he was doing and awkwardly settled his arms back down. "Shit, sorry love, it's just me, you know? I need to touch you." H scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don't know what it is, John." You said it again. "I love you, though. I love you." "I know," his cockiness had risen from its slumber. "And I love you too. If you don't want me to touch, then I won't." He held up his hands in surrender. "I can control myself." "No you can't," you quipped back, a smirk settling on your lips too. "No, but I will," he admitted. "If it's what you want." You nodded shyly, still feeling far too guilty and far too far away from him. "Here I was thinking I'd hurt you somehow, and all you needed was a bit of space," he sighed, the relief obvious in the little upturns of his mouth. "John, give me your hand," you said, an idea forming. He looked at you with furrowed brows but did so none the less. His hand still had faded bruises on the knuckles, covered up by an abundance of rings, a burn mark from his cigar hidden on the side of his middle finger, and you sought out for the crease on his palm which he swore on your first date meant that he was the best kisser you'd ever had. You didn't think it was palmistry that made that a fact. Gently, you pressed his hand on the side of your face over your hair. It was like a ghost of a touch, but you leaned into the curve of his palm lightly. "This is okay," you told him, John was perfectly still, looking at you with a cautious awe, his hand not daring to move from your assigned spot.

After a moment, he smirked again and got that cheeky look you adored: "So does this no touch thing mean no sex or-" He was cut off by you dropping his hand, rolling your eyes and walking away. "Wait no babe I was only joking!"

[blessedlance]

pretty baby.

[r18+]

[wc:] 4k

[cw:] sub!atsumu, softdom!reader, femdom, oral (f. receiving), riding, pegging, mommy kink, puppy kink, minor dacryphilia, collar-play, restraints

! haikyuu manga timeskip spoilers. atsumu is 24. !

a/n: oh my god i haven’t written for leisure in literally 10 years i hope this is bearable LOL. @luvsicksubs​ wrote a lil tidbit about sub!atsumu a while ago and i have not known peace ever since so big thank you to ari for the inspo! pls enjoi :9

Atsumu’s been gone lately. A lot.

 Too much.

 You know it’s not his fault. The Jackals' practices have been brutal lately. So when Atsumu does eventually trudge his way back to your shared apartment every evening, he can only muster up enough energy to shower and collapse into bed. You’ve had to wake him more than once, chiding him to get up and at least dry his hair before bed.

“You can’t afford to get yourself sick by sleeping with wet hair, ‘Tsumu.” You’d whisper, shaking him gently awake. Usually he’d just groan in response and bury himself further against your body heat beneath the comforter--unwilling to give up even a second of precious, blissful sleep. You’d even gone so far as to physically pull his heavy, six foot athlete’s body out of the bed and into the bathroom to dry it for him once or twice.

It’s for his health, you reason. You can afford to pamper him a little--especially when he’s been working so hard. And the way his body slumps while he sits, his features softening--long eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks as he dozes off into half-sleep at the feel of your fingers tussling his hair with the gentle heat of the blow dryer… He becomes so soft in those moments, like putty in your hands.

It’s dangerous, because it makes you crave the sight of him like this--fragile and reliant on the comfort of your touch--even more.

You sigh. Reminding yourself again, for seemingly the millionth time since this excessive practicing for the championships started,

‘It’s not his fault.’

He’s been good. So, so good. Trying so hard to make sure you know he loves you and he’s sorry. Texting you to check in whenever he has the chance.

 > how are you today?

> how’s work going??

> what’s for lunch??? ლ(≧ڡ≦ლ)

 Sometimes sending videos of himself and Hinata hashing out new plays (only the ones they’ve mastered, though. You may be intimately familiar with every embarrassing piece of him, but he still wants to try to look cool in front of his girlfriend.)

And it helps. It really does. But you also know the texts are just as much for his own sake as they are for yours. You know how needy Atsumu gets when you two are apart.

 You remember the time he’d called you from his hotel room after an away game in Tokyo. How he whined into the phone at the sound of your voice when you whispered.

“Touch yourself for me.”

The way a soft cry escaped him at your command--your name leaving his lips with a breath.

 You want to feel him like that again. To see him beneath you, squirming and desperate--begging for you to just touch him, just sit on his face, his cock, anything you want just please--

 You abruptly stop your line of thinking--not daring to continue dwelling on this recurring fantasy. Atsumu doesn’t deserve the punishment you crave to dole out on him to relieve this frustration.

 … But he might want it.

 Championships are tomorrow. Just 24 hours stand between you and the feeling of Atsumu Miya’s taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

You take a breath, summoning the remnants of your willpower.

You could do this. You would make certain that the wait would be worth it.

For both of you.

 ---

 The Black Jackals win their first match because of course they do. Honestly, sometimes you feel a bit bad for the opposing teams. Their skill, their teamwork, their passion, their absolute willpower to win is stifling. Atsumu texts you that they’re going out for celebratory dinner and drinks. Bokuto’s idea. (Obviously). He promises he’ll be home as soon as he can. They’ve all got tomorrow morning off, and a whole day before the next round of matches. Some indulgence is well-deserved.

You type out your reply.

 > Take your time and enjoy yourself! You’ve earned it. 💕

 Knowing you’ve got at least two hours or more before the boys’ exhaustion ushers them all home, you decide to spend some time... preparing.

 You’re reclined on the couch, watching something you can comfortably give your half-assed attention to while scrolling on your phone. You hear the front door unlocking, the handle turning, and your heart leaps into your throat. The thought of finally, finally having Astumu all to yourself makes you absolutely giddy.

You turn expectantly, and can’t help the way your lips curl upward into a smile.

Atsumu pushes the door open and turns toward you, already smiling when he opens his mouth.

 “Hey.” You murmur.

 “Hey.” He breathes back, and you watch the way his features relax at the sight of you. The way the confident, assiduous Atsumu Miya--a man who wakes up every single day and strives for perfection in everything and every one---melts into something softer.

Something that’s silently begging for you to tear him apart and piece him back together again.

He slips off his shoes, drops his gym bag to the floor, and brings his long, heavy body to lay over yours on the couch.

His face--tinted pink (presumably from the drinks)--buries itself against your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

Your fingers assume their familiar position, nestled in the blonde locks atop his head.

 “Missed you…” You say lowly against his ear.

The small shiver that runs down his spine does not escape your notice.

 “I’ve been here every night!” He protests.

 “You know what I mean.” Your fingers press against his head, tugging on the strands the slightest bit.

 “Mmm…” He affirms softly--your skin keenly feeling the gentle hum against its surface. He knows what you mean. He’s been here, yes, but it’s felt more like the ghost of him--wisping into your bed for a few hours and gone again in the morning.

 “You were really in the zone today.” You comment. “I felt bad for the other team.”

 He huffs out a small laugh. “Don’t. They played fine. We were just better.”

 “Hmm…” You take your unoccupied hand and run a single finger up the curve of his spine.

 He exhales, and you listen for the tremble in his breath you know will be there.

Just a little more.

 “Either way, you were so good.” You can’t contain the coy lilt your voice takes on. You know damn well what you’re doing--using the very words that always make him quiver. He knows what you’re doing, too.

Atsumu thinks he doesn’t mind.

 It’s quiet for a beat. The two of you simply basking in the warmth of your bodies pressed against each other. You stretch beneath him, and… readjust yourself in a way that presses your breasts against him just a little bit more...

And Atsumu finally, finally breaks.

 He inhales sharply, and lets the subsequent exhale freely pass against your neck. A muffled word that sounds a lot like a plea leaves his throat.

 “What was that?” You ask, purposely grazing your lips against his reddening ear.

 “Please…” He begs.

 You consider being mean for a moment. Consider pushing him to his limit in desperation. The way those sharp brown eyes would turn glassy and tearful, his dark brows pulled together, pleading you to hurry up and take him--touch him--let him touch you--fucking anything. However you want, wherever you want. Make him vocalize that burning desire, and only concede when he well and truly begs.

 But that can always be arranged another time.

You’re far too heady with desire yourself to enact such cruelty on him right now. Not after he’s been so good.

 You shift your weight, moving to switch your positions by sitting up and pressing him beneath you. Your straddle his hips, purposely pressing your weight down against his pelvis ever-so-slightly.

 “You’ve been working so hard, ‘Tsumu…” You murmur, lowering the top half of your body to lean over his. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt, running up along the taut muscles that tremble at your touch. “Such a good boy…”

Atsumu’s bites his lip in an effort to stifle the deep moan that leaves his chest. The way his body almost involuntarily reacts to that phrase every. single. time… It’s just too good to pass up.

You wet your lips.

 “Let me make you feel good.”

 And you press those lips ever-so-softly to the juncture between his jaw and neck. Soft touch turning to a light bite, and then back to a soothing kiss.

 Atsumu is crumbling--his hardening length pressing insistently against you.

 “I got everything ready. We can use whatever you want: rope,” and you press a slow open-mouth kiss to his neck,

“your collar,” then one to his collarbone,

“a toy,” traveling down to his pecs,

“the strap…” ending just beneath his belly button.

You look up at him from beneath your lashes, watching keenly for his expression to shift in interest at any certain one.

 Atsumu doesn’t give an immediate answer, his gaze unable to meet your own. Your hands trail back down his body, grazing a nipple with your fingernail just to see the way he twitches at the sensation. 

 “C’mon baby, how am I supposed to treat my good boy if he doesn’t tell me what he wants?” You purr, bringing your hands to the hem of the worn, oversized t-shirt covering your top half down to the juncture of your thighs. You’d snatched it from his dresser earlier to lounge in. Another carefully plotted detail. You knew just how riled up he got at the sight of you wearing his shirts. Even more so if he lifted it only to find those black and gold lacy panties underneath… Or if there was nothing…

Stretching your body, you pull the shirt up and off of your torso, tossing it aimlessly behind you. Atsumu’s gaze immediately returns to you--spotting that very set’s match: a black bra with intricate gold stitching around the lace adorning your skin. His hands are on you in an instant--palms sliding up your ribs to reach your breasts and gently squeezing around them.

Astumu had never been good with the concept of patience.

 Normally, you’d stop those big, calloused setter hands in their tracks--admonishing him for not asking permission, first. But this was about him. About fulfilling every whim his exhausted mind and body had the energy left to want. You could allow a little insubordination tonight.

 “You even wore my favorite.” He grins, that cheeky, self important tone of his sneaking back out. You smile coyly and tilt your hips downward, pressing your bare core against his still-restrained cock. He inhales sharply--dropping the attitude once more.

 “Part of the reward.” You grin. “Now, what does my good boy want?”

 His eyes drift upwards from their fixation on your breasts, meeting your gaze.

 “I want…” He bites his lip. “Wanna make you feel good.”

 Your eyes widen at the admission, but he’s speaking again before you can inquire.

 “You’re always so patient with me when practice gets like this. I just want to... To give you a reward, too.”

 You’re taken aback for a beat, pleasantly surprised at the acknowledgement. Atsumu still manages to surprise you with how observant he is. One of the more unexpected traits he shares with Osamu. Your eyes soften and you reach up to gently cup his face. He turns his head to kiss your hand and murmurs against your palm.

 "Let me taste you. Please."

 He knows how you get when he’s busy like this. How--despite your authority and confidence in the bedroom--you still long for his affection and crave his touch when he’s gone.

And this… This is the perfect way for him to express his gratitude while still pleasing both of you.

 “Okay.” You breathe, moving to kneel over his face. “Whatever you want,” you gently drop your weight toward his mouth. “my sweet boy.”

 He practically preens at the praise, moaning against your core. Again, Atsumu demonstrates his struggle with patience and savoring the moment. In an instant, he’s gripping your thighs and pulling them closer against the sides of his face. You know you could sit your entire weight atop him and he’d thank you, but tonight calls for something gentler. It’s enough to know you’re the only person who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to watch the diligent, cocksure Astumu Miya, one of--if not the--best setters in Japan, become so vulnerable and desperate beneath you.

 He flattens his tongue and runs it slowly up from the start of your opening to the top of your clit.

 “Fuck, ‘Tsumu…” You moan, hands rushing to grasp at his hair. He groans, too, at the sensation of your fingers tugging--the hum sending a vibration through your body. You grind your hips, silently urging him on, and his tongue laves at your clit with small kitten licks. The feeling of those tiny, gentle laps against your most sensitive spot, so diligent and soft--it’s like electricity coursing through you, running up into every limb.

 “Mmhmm.” He hums against you. He knows just how you like it. When he services you like this--like the obedient puppy he is. “So wet… Y’taste s’good...” He says, hot breath fanning against you while he catches his breath for a moment.

 You press yourself back against him insistently. “Who said you could take a break? Use your fingers, too.”

 His mouth is back against you immediately, right hand sliding beneath your thigh to reach your opening. Carefully, he presses two fingers against it--testing the give, while his tongue continues to lick and suck at that sensitive nub. Spit has dribbled down from his mouth to where his fingers are pressed, and he slides his digits against the wetness, adding to the natural lubricant. Then, finally, he pushes those long middle and ring fingers up and into you. They slide in easily despite the way you feel yourself clench around the intrusion. He was right--you’re soaked. He finds a comfortable rhythm to compliment his tongue’s lashings easily and your head falls back, a deep moan escaping past your lips.

 “‘Tsumu… ‘Tsumu, fuck just like that--you do it so well for me, baby… Right there--”

 You’re cut off by the feeling of his fingers curling within you--searching, and then pressing against that spot so nicely.

Your thigh muscles twitch against his cheeks--breath fleeing from your lungs at the sudden rush.

 “Yes, ‘Tsumu--fuck yes.”

 You chance a look down at his face. Those long lashes closed, brows knit together in concentration while he pleasures you. Atsumu’s a pretty boy, but you think he’s prettiest like this.

 Fuck, you want more of that desperate expression. Want to edge him over and over until he’s drooling and can’t remember his own fucking name.

 You’re getting close. That climbing ecstasy rising dangerously high within you. You pull yourself off him before you can climb too high, and the release of suction from his mouth makes a small, wet pop.

 “You eat it so well, baby. So, so good for me, pretty boy.” You coo, caressing the sides of his face. His lips are pink and wet and you return your hips to their place atop his length. His lip wobbles with a whimper, back arching against you in search of more.

 “I think you’ve earned your reward now, don’t you?” Your eyelids fall, half-closed seductively while you lean your chest toward his face. You reach behind your back and release the clasp of your bra. His hands tighten themselves into fists, trying to restrain the urge to reach up and touch. The fingers of your left hand splay out against his chest, holding your weight, while the right moves down to pull off his boxer briefs. Then, your wet folds are sliding against his erect, bare, length. Slowly, up and down.

 “Mmm please can I--can I touch--”

 You interrupt him with a small lick against those still-wet lips and chuckle quietly to yourself.

 Oh, so now he’s ready to ask first?

 “You can.” You affirm, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. His breath is coming harder now, those hardened pecs rising and falling beneath you. The anticipation is rapidly unraveling him. Atsumu’s hands are on your back, tugging your chest back down towards him. As they slide forward around your ribcage to grasp your breasts, his gaze flits up to you.

 “Can I--?”

 “Mmhmm.” You nod--knowing what he wants. His mouth closes around your nipple, sucking with that perfect amount of harshness to tighten the coiling pressure in your lower body. His tip rests right against your opening. You can see the precum dribbling out of him--can feel the way he’s pushing himself slightly further up--desperate to get inside. Were this any other time,  you’d reprimand him for such impertinence. Tie his hands above his head and deny him completely. ‘And you were being so good, too, asking permission and everything. You wanna be inside that bad, maybe I should remind you how it feels to be on the receiving end, hmm?’

But, honestly, he’d nearly tipped you over the edge with just his mouth earlier. You were becoming impatient, yourself. 

 Finally, blessedly, you sink yourself down onto his cock, revelling in the way his mouth falls open and his head flings backward against the couch pillow with a cry.

 “Mmm.. ‘s it that good, baby?” You tease.

 “‘S been a while… So tight…” He hisses, almost like it’s too much.

 “Yeah?” You tease. Your hips are gradually picking up speed. Slowly rising up, up, up, as far as you can go before it feels like he might just fall out of you, and then your hip fall again, taking his full length deep inside.

 “‘Tsumu…” You say, rising back up again. “I wanted to pamper you tonight... “ and you slide back down. “Give my cute, sweet boy a reward for all his hard work.”

 Atsumu keens, whimpering beneath you.

 “But I think I wanna be a little selfish, too.” You breathe, leaning in close enough for your breath to fan against his face. “Is that ok baby?”

 A high pitched moan leaves Atsumu’s throat, and you clench around him.

 “Yes…” He sighs between ragged breaths. “Yes... Please, I--”

 “Please, what?” You interrupt him.

 “P-please…” You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “Please, mommy…”

 “Ohhhhh, that’s my good boy.” You moan, restarting the rise and fall motion of your cunt around him. “Gonna make you feel so good. Just the way you deserve, ‘Tsumu. But you have to promise you won’t cum until I say so, mmk?” You’re holding his face, running your right index finger along the line of his jaw with a feather-light touch.

 And Astumu Miya shudders beneath you, staring up in reverence. The way those big brown watery eyes look at you… He’d look so cute with a collar clasped around his neck right now.

 He nods. “I--I won’t. I promise. Please.”

 Your hand moves up to stroke his hair softly. “Good boy.”

 You restraighten your back in your seated position atop him. Your hands come to rest against his chest for leverage, and you begin riding him in earnest. Atsumu’s eyelids fall closed again, head thrown back while his mouth hangs open in pleasure.

 “Is this what you wanted ‘Tsumu? Just want to feel me fuck myself on you until I’m satisfied?” You tease as you bounce. You slow to almost a halt and grind your hips in a circle, feeling the way his cock buries itself to the hilt. Atsumu’s hands are balled into tight fists against the couch. He’s moaning freely now--little cries escaping him as your cunt eagerly swallows him down over and over and over again.

“So good… You’re so good inside me, ‘Tsumu. Stretching me out so much every time. I know you know how good that feels.”

 “Ahnn--!” He keens at the memory. The way your soft hands had pressed his legs up against his chest. Wetness from the lube dripping down so tantalizingly slow between his ass cheeks. The cock of your strap buried within him. How utterly full he had felt, stretched around it while you softly cooed praises at him, stroking his cock.

 Fuck he wanted to cum like that again.

 More than that, he just wanted to cum. His hands clench and unclench--mouth hanging open while he revels in memory--in the feeling of your tight, wet, heat sliding up and down him just how he likes--how he needs.

 “I told you it was OK to touch, baby.” You reach down to grasp his hands with your own, bringing them to rest on your hips. “Hold onto me while I fuck myself on you.” You whisper.

 Atsumu’s eyes open at that, watching your body bounce on him. HIs left hand hastily comes up to grasp a breast, relishing the feel of the soft, pliable skin in his grasp.

 You gasp lightly at the sensation of his hand grazing your sensitive nipple. “Fuck yeah. So good for me baby--so good. Gonna make you cum in me like this--”

 Atsumu’s head falls back against the cushions again, his expression knotted in pleasure. “You feel so good. So good… Please… Please I’m-- Ahh!-- I’m getting close.”

 “Aww you’re close already? You wanna cum baby?” You shouldn’t tease. You know you’re close, too. That cresting peak getting closer and closer with every push of his cock into your deepest places. Your breath is ragged from the exertion of your body. You reach behind you blindly, refusing to miss an instant of Atsumu’s delicious expression. Eventually, you find the small bullet vibrator you’d stashed beneath the cushions earlier. You bring the toy to your clit and immediately feel it; that powerful wave looming just behind--threatening to take you over the edge. You steele yourself the best you can, inhaling deeply.

 Atsumu slides his eyes open at the sound and unleashes the mostly ungodly, moan. His voice trembles when he speaks.

 “Can I--can I come? Please--please baby let me come. Let me come.” His hands hold fast to your hips, grip growing steadily tighter as the sensations continue to climb. Faster now--exponentially faster. He’s not sure he could stop if he wanted to.

 “Mmmm hearing you beg like that… Good boy. You can cum, baby. I’ll even cum with you for being so good. Go ahead. Cum in this tight pussy.” Your words are rushed, breath catching here and there. “Give it to me.”

 And Atsumu shatters.

 The way his cry lilts up--high-pitched and unabashed. That wave crashing into him so hard and so completely it takes you down under with him. Atsumu’s mind is empty. Nothing but blinding white as he expends everything he has in him in an instant. His name spills past your lips over and over like a mantra while you ride out your high. The two of you so in-sync, it feels as though your cunt convulses in time with his every pulse. Everything feels so, astonishingly good and intimate.

 You’re both breathing heavily, eyes shut tight as that shared bliss slowly dissipates. You let yourself come down to rest on his chest. It’s suddenly very quiet save for your shared breaths. Eventually you rise onto your elbows, face directly over his.

 “I love you…” Atsumu murmurs, eyes slightly flitting about while he studies the intricacies of your face. He memorized them all long ago, but even in this he is never sated. Your eyes soften, chest fluttering at his tone: so tender and soft.

 “I love you, too.” You say, gently caressing his face. “So much.”

 Atsumu can’t help the smile spreading across his face. In one quick motion, his arms are around your neck and tugging your face down toward him. His head tilts, lips melding themselves against yours when they make contact. The kiss is unusually tender, his lips trying to convey what his words cannot: how he is so thankful and lucky to have you. You, who understands how dear his passion, his career, is to him yet helps him remain grounded so that it does not consume him entirely. You, who remains so, so patient when he is away. You, who is always there to help him take care of himself when he is too busy or exhausted. You, who holds him when he finally fractures under the stress of giving his everything all the time--and who helps him put his pieces back together again and get back at it.

 Your head returns to its resting place on his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath you, lulling you to sleep. You both need to get up, clean up, and get into your actual bed, but the bliss of finally feeling Atsumu’s hard body beneath you. Knowing it is completely yours, at least for a short while… You don’t want to relinquish it for even a second.

There’s another beat of silence before you speak.

 “Wanna go to ‘Samu’s and get tuna tomorrow?” You ask.

 Atsumu groans his approval loudly--so much so one would think he hadn’t just finished a massive meal with the Jackals. That signature cheeky grin returns to his face.

 “Oh my god I love you.”

[luvyanfei]

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself. 

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.  

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.  

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade. 

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself. 

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms. 

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles. 

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination. 

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor. 

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds. 

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath. 

tagging. @scarymoosh