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#and I’m reminding myself I don’t need to finish it
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hello if you’re still taking prompts could u by chance do tears + ??? :p
??? + Tears!
‘What happened?’ Their voice presses into your head, already aching from an incoming headache brought on from your tears. You weren’t sure how to answer them, when there were so many ways you could. Home, school, death, them.
            Your words are acid, “I thought I told you to stay out of my head.”
            Even with the flood of their feelings, seeping out like blood from a wound, you try to shut them out. You never wanted this, and you had yet to think of a situation worse than one where you were tied to a formless thing who felt and saw everything you could.
            You’re so tired. The tears burn in your eyes again and you burrow tighter into yourself, “Just leave me alone. I’m so tired.”
            They don’t, but they don’t speak again either. They settle, and you feel the pinpricks in your fingers. You loosen your grip, the pull of your nails away from skin a peel of pain. You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d been holding yourself. Little crescents line up your arms. The pinpricks stop. They settle again.
            The tears keep leaking out, and with how long you’ve cried you wonder if it’s possible to go on forever. Maybe the body won’t run out of tears, and you’ll be stuck in this state until the end of time. If only you could burn this version of yourself and start again. In a different body, in a different home, you’d be better. You wouldn’t waste a second chance you would never get.
            The Voice presses into you again. You look up involuntarily and scowl as you find yourself looking towards the half-finished water bottle on the bedside desk, “I’m not a child you need to take care of.”
            ‘It’ll help the headache.’ Their voice is soft, withdrawn. ‘Take care of yourself. I’ll leave, then.’
            You grit your teeth and turn away. You won’t listen to anything they tell you to do. It’s not fair, that of all the people in your life (of the reminder there are so painfully few people in your life), the one who cares the most is the one you’re cursed with. They only care because they need a vessel. They only care so they can use you. It isn’t really them taking care of you as a person, it’s them taking care of you like a puppet.
            You hate this. Going around in circles, thinking the same thing over and over again.
            ‘Please, little moon.’ You wince at the nickname, the endearment. It comes with more emotions, each one going against the stubborn beliefs you’ve held on to. That their care for you is real. It eats away at your resistance. This time, when they pull you towards the water, you don’t fight. You down it all in a second, and when you do it hits that you’re hungry and gross and need a shower and a meal.
            What are you even doing?
            “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
            ‘I know.’
            “I can’t even take care of myself.”
            ‘I know.’
            “I hate that the only one who ever helps me is you.”
            ‘…I know.’
            They accept everything, and you stubbornly wipe away the tears instead of having a full breakdown. You get up for food, they stay with you. Although you don’t talk to them, you don’t bother to chase them away. You’re so tired, and warmth is warmth even if it’s as artificial as a lighter.
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bundlebrent · 6 months
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It’s amazing how many things I can get done on a day where I don’t have a headache
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mars-ipan · 10 months
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guys i am having such an internal dilemma
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guys do you want to know something absolutely insane. i was thinking about a catholic related world news event that happened a while ago and thought to myself man, i can only imagine how crazy it must’ve been for the kids going to my old catholic school the day after that happened. so i googled when it happened to see if my best friends little brother was there when it happened and um. I was there when it happened???? lololol i’ve been thinking about it for 20 mins and i think that now i maybe do remember the teeniest tiniest bit going to school after it happened…. anyways as if i needed any more evidence that my time in catholic high school was deeply deeply traumatic to me, it turns out my brain did the trauma response thing of completely erasing my memory of those last two years lol
#TW FOR THESE TAGS. I MENTION SOME SHIT SO STEER CLEAR <3#this is so funny but also kind of sad. it makes me angry that i’m forgetting everything to an extent?#like those events held/hold so much fucking power over me and i can’t even remember what they were lol#my body has a physical reaction to random shit sometimes and i’m like. hmm. i wonder if this just reminded my body of something that happene#d back in high school that was traumatic enough to make me break down right now but also i have no memory of lol#i feel like knowing is a type of power. knowing and being able to identify things make me feel like i have some degree of power over them#here i have no power over the trauma response in even that most basic way of being able to say ‘this was traumatic’ because i don’t know wha#t ‘this’ is lol. ‘this’ is catholic high school when they were shit to me but do i have any concrete evidence or examples to justify that?#no lol. i struggle to point to a single specific moment#it’s so fucking crazy lol#i feel weird about it#you know i’m having deja vu bc i went through this exact same emotional journey regarding my lack of memories of the csa; that’s like 90% of#the stillness of remembering fic lol; but it feels different with this 🤔#maybe bc my first instinct is to invalidate that something as mundane as high school could be so traumatic? although no that’s not the diffe#rence bc i did that to myself with the abuse too 🤔 hmm.#ahhhhh okay i need to finish eating my butter chicken 😋
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aeyumicore · 21 days
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misty invasion - omnipotent perception
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━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some plot, porn with feelings, angst with comfort
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 6.5k (who’s surprised)
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers and alterations to ‘omnipotent perception (rafayel’s misty invasion card), slightly toxic relationship, m!receiving handjob, bathtub sex, pulling out, cummies in hair/face, lots of making out, hickeys, HEAVY references to rafayel’s lore (sea god and some abysswalker), references to rafayel’s 4* memory fragrant dream, so much angst (with comfort), soooo much feelings, sensory deprivation, sensory play, blindfolding, switch!raf, desperate rafayel, kinda withholding rafayel, clothes on in tub, p in v seggs, use of y/n, use of pet names
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | xav's version | sylus's version | zayne's version
━ ✧.˖ A/N: RAF IS HERE! sooooo this one is a long one. each one of my misty invasions got longer and longer, i am a menace to myself. but this one made sense, i felt as if raf’s misty invasion had the most lore subtly stitched into it and you guys know i always try and explore some angst/lore <3 i am very happy and excited to finally close out the misty invasion series. 
i’m going to be taking a much needed break after this. i’ll likely still be writing, but slowly and in my own time. I had a brief period of motivation, after the clarity of sharing my story, but now i am back to being anxious and exhausted.
that being said, please do not send anyone hate in my name or in my defense. I have never and will never ask for that. it’s enough that i have your support, i don’t need more than that. 
special thank you to my friend @myusuchaa for helping me SO much with the rafayel lore. definitely the biggest fish forker i know <3
as always, if i missed any warnings or used too specific physical descriptors, let me know and i can do better! thank you guys for your support. i love you!
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
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“Do you feel lonely in this world that is totally different from yours?”
It’d been a beautiful summer day, riding bicycles along the Italian coast of Verona. Rafayel had just finished his piece for an art exhibition in the capital of the picturesque city, and you’d had time to soak in the summer breeze with each other. The air was wonderfully salty, just enough to remind you of the sea itself. Of Rafayel. 
It hadn’t truly surprised you when you’d found out Rafayel had lived here before, especially now knowing his Lemurian roots. Something about the way he walked through the Veronian brick paved roads, the rustic wind tousling his beachy waves, the cloudy sun shining on his effervescent skin. Like he’d belonged here, once upon a time. 
It was the perfect day.
Even when you’d teased him about the Lemurian who’d dissipated into sea foam for a mere human, and Rafayel’s expression misted over with a melancholic nostalgia. When his eyes glazed over with a torrent of inexplicable emotions, he could tell you wanted to prod him about it. But you didn’t, and for that he was incredibly grateful. There was a part of him that longed for you to know, to remember, the truth of that story. But he couldn’t trust you with that part of him again. Not yet. 
Even then, it was a perfect day. The two of you in Verona, the city of Romeo and Juliet. 
Two ill-fated lovers. 
It was perfect, he was perfect. 
Until you asked him that question. 
“Do you feel lonely in this world that is totally different from yours?”
Suddenly, Rafayel couldn’t look you in the eyes. Even when the rain droplets had started to patter onto your sun kissed skin, Rafayel holding you close under his favorite cardigan to shelter you from the onslaught of crystalline water. He couldn’t look at you. He refused to look at you.
If he did, you might’ve seen the tumultuous storm flickering in his eyes. The violets in his irises bright with unshed tears, the blues dark with a bitter loneliness. 
He didn’t speak to you the entire way back to your hotel, heading straight to the bathroom. At first you think that perhaps he’s upset with you, but he only draws you a warm bath in the luxurious clawfoot tub overlooking the Italian night lights. 
When he finally does speak to you, peeling off his layers of soaked clothing, you can tell he’s masking his true emotions under a facade of classic Rafayel sarcasm. Joking about whether he should write a Lemurian handbook for you or just read you 1,001 Lemurian stories. But he surprises you when his voice cracks with a raw genuineness, one that’s masked under layers and layers of hesitancy and loneliness. You can’t quite understand it.
“You can be my caretaker. And I can tell you 1,001 stories,” he mutters, eyes trained on the ground once more, voice soft and vulnerable. 
“I’m okay with every choice you provide,” he continues as he peels your wet jacket off your shoulders innocently. When his hand reaches the inside of your coat, grazing against your exposed waist, he pulls his hand back. His face is a storm of conflicted torment.
“...But you should take a warm bath first. Or else you’ll catch a cold.”
As he turns to leave, the sight of his lean and muscled back making you blush, you muster all your courage and call out to him, “You can’t leave. You still haven’t answered my question.”
You catch his wrist, using all your force to pull him back. Rafayel stiffens, unable to catch himself before he tumbles backwards into the filled tub. 
He’s able to protect his head from hitting the edge of the tub, the water sloshing around and splashing onto the tiled bathroom floor. Rafayel sits in the tub, not a semblance of annoyance on his face. Instead he looks flustered, the warm water clinging to his defined muscles.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Rafayel’s hair is disheveled, the water making clumps of his damp hair stick to his wet skin. His eyes watch you with inscrutable emotions, waiting for you to speak. 
You don’t answer his question, instead asking one of your own.
“You can spare me the details, but there’s something important you should tell me…” you hum, walking to his side by the tub, leaning over him, “How do Lemurians express love?”
Rafayel looks startled by your question for a second before composing himself, “Do you really want to know?” The fragrant candles in the bathroom flicker, the steam of the bath dancing against the soft flames. His words seem less like a genuine question…and more like a vague warning. 
Before you can respond, Rafayel’s fingers are closed around your wrist, tugging you into the tub on top of him. You squeal as Rafayel guides your body onto his, the violent crashing of water loud against the soft sound of the rain against the large glass windows.
Rafayel looks smug, his hand holding yours against his chest. You’re messily sprawled across his half naked body when he shifts you off of him so that he can sit next to you, his strong arm wrapping around your body. The warm water is uncomfortable against your still half-clothed body, but you can only focus on the way Rafayel holds your fingers up to his mouth, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand like you were royalty. 
“When Lemurians fall in love with someone…” Rafayel mutters, his warm breath fanning against your hand, “All our senses are committed to perceive them without question.” His eyes are intense as he speaks to you, hoping to convey even an ounce of the love he speaks so honestly of. 
You raise an eyebrow at him, “Your senses? Like…this?” You untangle your hand from his, bringing your index finger up to his lips. You barely graze his pouty bottom lip before he’s panting, struggling to speak. 
“...Your way of triggering my “senses” has only touched the surface,” he mutters sulkily, yet he has to look away from you, cheeks rosy at your mere touch. He grabs your hand, eyes locked back onto yours giving you a silent warning. 
But you only proceed further, your fingers grasping his chin, your eyes peering up at him with a faux innocence. It’s not long before your fingers wander south, pressing into his heaving chest, flitting around his sharp collarbones. Rafayel’s reaction only fuels you with mischief and confidence, the way his breath matches his heartbeat: fast, erratic, and demanding. 
He looks at you with almost…disbelief. Disbelief at your actions, but more so disbelief at the way your simplest touches can have his body reacting so viscerally. It was a testament of just how much the dark-mauve haired Lemurian loved you, his every sense reacting to you so readily.
“...Are all humans idiots?” Rafayel grits, refusing to look at you again. But his body betrays his words when your hand ventures further down. You’re barely able to register the shocked expression on his flushed face before your back is pressed into the edge of the tub, the water splashing wilding as Rafayel hovers atop you.
He’s careful not to press his body into you, knowing he’d be an absolute goner once he felt your core against his. His thick muscles twitch angrily as he holds you down against the back of the tub, your hand clutching his shoulder for support against his erratic actions. 
“Someone’s intentions are as clear as day,” he accuses you. Though his words hold not even an ounce of ill-intention, he narrows his eyes at you. Just then, the rain outside turns into lightning, briefly illuminating Rafayel’s ethereal features. The flash of light accentuates the tempest that’s brewing in suspicious eyes. 
As you watch the turmoil flicker in them, you suddenly think maybe you pushed too far, “Do you not like it?” Your voice comes out more insecure than you’d wanted it to, suddenly aware of how forward you were being.
Rafayel sighs, pausing before his voice comes out pained, “If I said I didn’t, would you stop?” 
At the hint of anguish in his voice, you move to pull your hand away. But Rafayel’s hand abandons its grip on the tub to clasp against your hand, holding it tighter against his neck, refusing to let you go.
You gasp, as his movements cause the warm water to swash around. With his forceful hand over yours, your flushed skin prickles against his alarmingly chilly skin. 
“Rafayel, your body is so cold!” you whisper worriedly, fearing he might be catching a cold. For a second you forget that he’s Lemurian, accustomed to the frigid depths of the ocean. As your eyes search his anxiously, hand still gripping his cold shoulder, Rafayel’s own eyes watch yours meticulously. 
The swirls of blue and pink in his eyes have always been breathtaking, like the perfect mix of the most expensive paints. But now, as he watches you with the depth of the whole Lemurian oceans in his eyes, you’re completely speechless to the flickering of rampant passion behind them. 
That is until he grabs your chin roughly. Rafayel was no stranger to taking what he wanted, but this was different. The way he grabbed you screamed of…insecurity. Demanding, but unsure all the same. His cheeks are tinged the prettiest of coral pinks, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he closes the distances between your faces. Quickly, so he can’t change his mind. 
His soft lips slot over yours in a bruising embrace of passion, need, and unwavering longing. There’s something mind numbing about how gently his lips take yours, yet the pads of his fingers hold your chin so forcibly, as if afraid you’d slip into the depths of the water and disappear from his arms forever. 
The thunder rumbles deafeningly but all you can hear is Rafayel. He pants into you, his mouth claiming every inch of your lips, of your tongue. He kisses you like he knows nothing else, like he feels nothing else. 
He doesn’t let you go, although you’d never want him to. You only want him to hold you tighter, pull you closer, take you harder. You want to protest when he finally pulls away, gasping as a thin rope of saliva connects your parted and bruised lips.
Flashes of light illuminate his face, making him look as ethereal as the sirens warned about in ancient tales and myths. He hesitates to speak, trying to find the words to convey the emotions he’s been trying to control since the memories of Verona had begun to overwhelm him. The memories of his past. His past with you.
“And you’re warm,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding painfully, his body always so willing to react to you. All his senses, always so hyper aware of you, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. His thumb strokes your glistening bottom lip, fingers still holding your chin captive. His eyes watch you with an unbearable longing, the previously intense crinkle in them softened to a tender vulnerability. 
“So perfect for me.”
Butterflies wriggle in your tummy, and you reach your wet hands reach up to cup his cheeks. 
“Rafayel, you seem different…” you mumble, stroking the cold and smooth expanse of his cheek. He looks down, avoiding your gaze, clearly grappling with a turmoil of intrusive emotions and memories. Despite that all, his face softens under your touch, even unbeknownst to him. 
Before you can ask him what’s on his mind, he’s rubbing his cheeks into your palms. The warmth of your affectionate embrace makes it difficult for Rafayel to think clearly, and he can’t stop himself from whispering, “Will you still love me no matter who I become?”
You’re speechless at the blatant insecurity in his voice, in his eyes. Rafayel was always confident, years as a world-famous artist had made him self-assured in more ways than one. But now, as his shadowed and down-cast eyes searched yours desperately for an answer, you could see just how unsure he was. You could see the cracks forming in his polished shield, the fissure spider webbing uncontrollably, on the precipice of shattering completely. 
His eyes pierce yours, fully intending to get an answer from you. You don’t even think he notices how pouty he’s become, his bottom lip protruding in an tragically adorable show of just how badly he needs you to understand him. To love him. 
To remember him. 
Unable to withstand his paralyzing gaze any longer, you yank him down to you by the chain that hangs around his neck. The silver necklace matched the shimmering bracelet he’d gifted you, that currently sits on your own wrist. 
Rafayel grunts as you pull him closer, clearly taken aback. His gaze doesn’t lighten, only becoming more intense and heated as your breath grows more bated against his own parted lips. 
“You…” he grumbles, trailing off, eyes flickering down to the beautiful sheen across your lips, before they dart away, looking to where his fingers grip the edge of the porcelain white tub. The rosy blush that dusts his cheeks gives away just how much he yearns for more, more of you. 
You find him to be so irresistibly tortured that you can’t help but hook your arm around his neck, pulling him further down until your lips collide with his collar. If you can take even an ounce of his tumultuous pain away, you’d do it.
The thunder roars violently as you kiss him, the water in the tub splashing over and hitting the bathroom tile. Rafayel is quick to relent all control, letting you take every inch of him. His fingers thread into your hair as you kiss his sensitive chest, teeth nipping at the cold skin on his collar. His whimpering gasps are audible, fingers tugging at your damp hair, as you suckle torturously at his chest, no doubt leaving a reddened bruise. 
When he finally pulls away, there’s a clear look of reluctance on his beautiful features. You try and pull him back, and he briefly lets you before pulling back, the look of hesitation returning to his thunderous eyes. 
You give up, instead moving your finger to brush against the reddened hickey forming on his collar. Rafayel looks at you, pained and begging for mercy, as your fingernails graze over the sensitive skin. 
“When humans fall in love…” you hum, admiring the beautiful bruise, “We try to leave a unique mark on them.” 
At that precise moment, the moment you mention you’re in love with him, you can visibly see the fractured remnants of Rafayel’s walls come crashing down. He pants, eyes fixed on the way your hand presses over the right side of his chest, so dangerously close to where his heart was. To where his bond with you was etched into his very soul. 
In that very moment, a flip switches in Rafayel. His eyes burn, not with anguish or uncertainty, but with a dangerous desire.
“If you say so…” he rasps, leaning in until your breaths mingle into one. As his eyes flicker closed, lips ghosting along yours, he whispers, just before his lips claim yours. 
“Join me, then.” His lips press into yours, holding back as to not take you completely.
“Let’s drown in the ocean.” He inhales your torrid gasps, his words deceitfully simple. 
“Together.”
Rafayel kisses you, instantaneously consuming you. He pants into you, unable to soften the way his body reacts to you, the way his senses consume you until there’s nothing left of him. To him, loving you, losing you, and repeating the cycle…felt exactly like that.
Like drowning. 
He throws all that emotion into the way he kisses you. The embrace is so intense that it makes tears form in your eyes, emotions welling in your chest so tightly you fear you might burst. 
When he pulls away to breathe, you look up at him, “You never answered my question from earlier.”
Rafayel’s eyes widened, knowing exactly which question you were referring to. What he didn’t expect was for you to be so direct. His eyes dart around, but you hold his face in your palms before he can physically turn away. He opens his mouth to speak, before pursing his lips again in hesitation. 
You gently prod him, fingers stroking his locked jaw, “Raf?” 
“It…” he starts, eyes crackling with emotions. Rafayel struggles to find the words. He knows exactly what he wants to tell you, but can’t find the words to express it to you. 
It’s not that he wanted to be withholding, least of all with you. He would give you anything. He had given you everything, time and time again. To the point where it destroyed him. 
But the fear of having it all taken away, again, had made him so reluctant to lean back into the wind, like he’d done so many times in the past. Too scared of how much of himself he’d lose again in the never-ending cycle of falling irrevocably in love with you. 
And yet, as much as it took from him, it didn’t matter. Because you were everything to him.
“In this human world…it’s not difficult for a Lemurian to become lonely,” he laments wistfully, eyes misted with a faraway look. 
He continues. “But in all the lives I’ve lived, I almost never felt lonely,” Rafayel gently smiles at you, a smile filled with a wistful sorrow. 
“Really? Why?” you ask genuinely, still soothing his hardened jaw. His features had softened considerably as he peered down at your wet form, the tension between his legs growing visibly.
Rafayel chuckles. His answer was simple. 
Because, there was always you. 
But that was a tale for another time. 
“Are you trying to trick a foolish Lemurian into giving up all his secrets again, my little human?” he whispers huskily, leaning down to kiss at the skin under your ear. 
You’re about to ask him what he means by again, but the words die on your tongue when Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck. His fingers find the buttons of your drenched top, unbuttoning it feverishly, desperately shedding your layers of clothing off of you.
Before you know it, you’re naked in Rafayel’s arms, his own bare manhood pressed insistently into your inner thighs, dangerously close to your core. Though the rest of his body is chilly from the rainwater, his throbbing erection burns against your skin. Even submerged in water, you can feel his pre cum oozing onto your leg, hot and thick.
His lips trail down your shivering body, kissing the grooves of your collar, teeth grazing the swell of your breasts. He’s nearly heaving, gasping for air like he can’t breathe. And truthfully, he couldn’t.
The dam of his emotional barriers absolutely decimated, the flood of his unabated passion overwhelming his senses. There is only you. The smell, the sound, the feeling, the sight, the taste of you. 
A Lemurian in love. Utterly, brokenly, and wholeheartedly. 
You try to match his intensity, pulling at his soft and wavy hair, drawing him closer to your naked body. You thrust your chest towards him, wanting him to claim you like he’d done so many times before. 
Rafayel chuckles at your obvious desires, but more than willing to oblige. His Queen. 
His lips close over your breast, his lips cold but his tongue wet and hot against your nipple. The warm water splashes messily against your clashing bodies. The lightning outside flashes, the shadows of your lewd acts dancing against the bathroom walls.
“Nnghnh, R-Raf!” you wail, his skilled mouth devouring you whole. Your spine arches into his demanding mouth, the wet splashes of the bath and the ravenous slurps filling the acoustics of the hotel bathroom. 
The pleasure of his tongue is so intense that your body can’t help but squirm backwards. Rafayel chuckles almost cynically, as he captures the back of your neck with his long and slender fingers. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to run away from me,” he pouts, leveling with your drooping eyes, body already delirious from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to bring you. 
“Hey,” he murmurs, bringing your chin up so that your eyes meet, “Don’t make me wait anymore, please.” 
You can’t help but smile at his adorable pout, his eyebrows furrowed in a sulky plea. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, twirling his wavy hair into your fingers, bringing him closer until your foreheads are pressed together. 
“I don’t want to wait either,” you whisper breathlessly against him, his face so close you can feel the length of his eyelashes against your cheek.
Rafayel gulps, his neck bobbing with the pressure of how forcefully he has to restrain his senses, restrain himself. It’s so clear how vulnerable he is to your every whim, so you take the opportunity to push him below you. His glimmering eyes shine with confusion, but he lets you climb atop him, hissing when your slick cunt presses down on his cock.
“What are you doing, Miss?”
You don’t answer, leaning over the tub to grab Rafayel’s damp cardigan, bringing it up to his face. He raises an eyebrow in question at you, his palms resting in the fat of your hips as your bare pussy drags against his pelvis. 
“Do you trust me?” you grin playfully at him, spreading the cardigan out and preparing to use it as a makeshift blindfold. Rafayel seems to know exactly what you’re planning. He looks up at you, inexplicable emotions reflected in his glassy eyes. 
“I do,” he whispers finally. His worlds are simple, yet something about them rips through your consciousness, filling you with a torrent of bittersweet fractures of a lost memory. 
A memory of another time Rafayel told you those same words.
I do.
Rafayel can read the confusion in your eyes, and squeezes your hips reassuringly. You’re shaken from the confusion of your mind-bending memories. Trying to focus on the moment at hand, you clear your throat and carefully tie the soft and expensive cardigan around Rafayel’s head, effectively cutting off his vision.
You lean down to whisper against his ears, lobes pink with excitement and anticipation.
“Let me show you what else humans do when we’re in love.”
Rafaye’s entire body quakes, his chest rising rapidly at your unabashed words. His fingers dig into your hips as he does his best to limit his embarrassingly visceral reactions to your body. With his vision limited, all his other senses are heightened to your will. 
With your lips at this ear, your neck is exposed to him. The smell of your pheromones mixed with your perfume clouds his thoughts, the urge to drive his teeth into your pulse so unbelievably overwhelming. But your palm on his chest pushes him down, your lips trailing down his ear, down his neck, and to his chest. 
With his eyes covered, his skin is all the more sensitive to your touch, 
“Please,” Rafayel rasps, nails digging into your thighs, “Please. I can’t wait anymore.”
You giggle at how adorably needy he’s become. You can tell just how much the blindfold affects him, his body more readily reactive to your lips, your fingers, your words.
Even with his eyes covered, Rafayel can’t help but pout. The inability to see you, his beautiful Queen, made him all the more desperate.
You decide to indulge him, fist closing around his cock under the water. Rafayel’s hips jolt violently, his lower half lifting to chase the friction of your soft hand. While he cries out in pleasure, you kiss down to where the water meets his defined chest.
“O-oh fuuck,” Rafayel hisses, his head thrown back on the edge of the tub, neck straining into the cool ceramic. His hips buck up into your fist wildly, your hand moving far too languidly for his taste. You continue to tease him slowly, his cock and your hand completely submerged under the surface of the water. He whimpers, teeth digging into his bottom lip, continuously thrusting up into your hand.
You take his desperation as an opportunity to torture him more, moving as gently as you can so that you can move up to his ear without him noticing. With your hand still pumping his oozing cock under the water, you whisper into his ear, letting your tongue graze his earlobe.
“When humans love someone…we want to make them feel good,” you whisper seductively into his ear, purposely letting your words come out in hot breaths. Rafayel jolts and squirms in response, fingers gripping the edge of the tub until his knuckles are pale white. 
“Sh-shiit,” he hisses breathlessly as your hand pumps up and down faster, the movements causing the water to ripple. His muscles flex under your touch, shining with a wet sheen against the flashing glow of lightning. 
“So? Does it feel good, Raf?” you murmur into his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to where his throat bobs with the heavy beat of his pulse. 
He thrusts himself into your hand violently, voice coming out in a gravelly groan, “Yes. You always feel so fucking good. S-so soft.”
Surprising him again, you take his lips into yours, insistently pushing your tongue into his mouth, all the while your fist continues to jerk him off. You catch every one of his unabashed moans with your own mouth, the muffled sounds of his pleasure mixing with the thundering storm outside.
It’s a furious clashing of saliva, teeth, and pure unfiltered passion. His fingers digging into your waist, your fingers squeezing his cock so tightly it threatens to have him spilling all over you and the filled tub. 
When you pull away, the spit dribbles down Rafayel’s chin and onto his damp chest. He looks adorably flustered, the cardigan still covering his eyes. With his sight gone, the feeling of your tongue against his, your fingers wrapped around his cock, your plush thighs against his twitching muscles is all the more intense. His body, all the more pliant for you. 
“Hah – if you keep going, I’m g-gonna–”
He doesn’t even have time to finish his words when his cock lurches in your greedy hands, thick and burning rivulets of cum shooting into the lukewarm bathwater. It’s strangely beautiful, like a ribbon of iridescent pearls. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rafayel gasps, nearly choking over his own rapid breath, his fingers gripping the edges of the tub.
His body convulses with his orgasm, a broken mantra of swears and lewd groans the only thing audible even in the roar of the storm outside. 
“Nnnghnh – b-baby,” Rafayel whines as you pump him through a mind-numbing overstimulation, desperate to see you. But you don’t stop, only giggling as you watch even more cum spurt from his angry pink tip. 
In a sudden flash of splashing water and strong fingers gripping your thighs, you find yourself under Rafayel again, his hand holding the back of your neck protectively as he slams you into the edge of the tub. His cardigan no longer covers his eyes, likely discarded somewhere on the wet floor.
Your eyes are wide from the whiplash of his sudden movements, “Rafayel?”
His sunset eyes blaze wildly as he watches you, the sight of you so utterly indulgent and overwhelming after having his vision returned to him. 
“Will you let me worship you?” 
His question is vulnerable, desperate. He looks at you so damn hopefully that it’d be impossible to say no even if some insane part of you wanted to. 
You reach up to clasp his cheek in your hands, pulling him closer until your noses brush against each other, “Yes, always.”
With the breathy desperate utterance of consent leaving your lips, fanning across his open mouth, he loses it.
He forces your thighs wider, gripping you by the fat of your hips and dragging you towards him until your bare cunt brushes right against once-again hard erection. You were used to Rafayel’s virtually non-existent refractory period, his cock upright and commanding attention so quickly after his orgasm.
The lukewarm bath water makes every touch feel much more fluid, all the more intimate and sensitive. Your grip the edges of the tub for support, Rafayel’s movements erratic and unpredictable. He leans down towards you, your bodies as close as the confines of the tub will allow. 
“My Queen,” he mutters under his breath like a vow, shifting to line himself up with your entrance. Without another warning, he pushes himself into you. 
You squeal at the stretch, your arousal making it easy for him to push into you completely. Rafayel groans as he enters you, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his large hands wrapped around your thighs. 
Rafayel is absolutely not shy with his cries of pleasure. His body shudders even though he hasn’t moved since seating himself fully inside of your warm and impossibly tight walls. 
When he doesn’t move, you screw your eyes open in confusion, doing your best to speak through the wonderful stretch of his cock inside your quivering walls, “R-Raf? Are you okay?”
Rafayel doesn’t speak, but the glow of the storm outside illuminates the way his throat bobs, every fiber of his body overstimulated with the pleasure of your body gripping his, refusing to let go.
You move to shift towards him, worried about the way he’s locked up, but that only causes your body to involuntarily squeeze around him. Rafayel hisses, pushing you back down gently, his fingers caressing your cheek.
“I-I just need a second.”
“A-are you okay?” you ask worriedly.
“You’re so tight, so warm,” Rafayel chokes out, his fingers tightening around your cheek and thigh. You can vaguely feel his cock growing inside you, and it’s then you realize he’s paralyzed, not by hesitation or pain, but pleasure.
You can’t stop yourself from teasing him, clenching down on his manhood snug inside you. Rafayel moans, his hands coming down to grip your thighs in a silent warning.
“No more teasing me,” he cautions with a pout, one hand shifting to rest on your naval. At your mischievous grin, Rafayel presses down. 
You cry out, eyes rolling back as he forces the walls of your pussy to rub against his cock. Rafayel wants to smirk at your helpless writhing, but the sensation is also overwhelming for him. His body heaves, nearly collapsing on top of you, only catching himself by gripping the sides of the tub.
Your fingers wrap around his trembling biceps, eyes urging him to take you.
Rafayel swears, obliging at the fucked-out look in your eyes. He unsheathes himself fully from your addicting gummy walls, barely even leaving his tip in, before shoving himself back into you.
The newfound vigor of his thrusts makes the water in the tub slosh wildly, splashing all over your face and hair. But you could care less, because the feeling of his excitement bruising its way in and out of your throbbing cunt is literally all you can think about. Pathetic moans of pleasure, the only sound you can make.
Rafayel fares no better, strings of beautiful grunts leaving his own lips. His pelvis slams into your soft inner thighs, the sound of the water against your colliding skin sinfully mixing with your combined moans. 
“You’re so – nghnh – perfect for me, Y/N,” Rafayel groans as he drives into you, the tip of his cockhead brushing into your cervix and g-spot all at once, at every thrust. 
His hands clutching the tub on either side of your head cage you in, making it so the only thing you can focus on is him. And the only thing that his senses can perceive is you.
The only thing he can see is you, your tears mixing with the soapy water, the reddened love bites blossoming on your skin.
The smell of you heightened even against the fragrant scent of the bath soap, your pheromones driving him to the edge of insanity. 
Your wanton cries for him, fueling him to fuck you harder, the sounds of your sweet pleasure making his own noises come out unabashedly. 
The taste of you lingering on his tongue every time he bends down to capture your lips in his, saliva running down both your chins. 
But mostly…the feeling of your perfect walls constricting him, pulling him in, refusing to let go. The feeling of your hands, pressed deep into his twitching muscles. Your soft thighs locking him against your sopping cunt. 
God, he was so in love with you it was nearly pitiful. 
“You’ll always be my Queen,” Rafayel babbles, thrusts becoming erratic as he becomes overwhelmed by the bittersweet memories that’d resurfaced in Verona, “My entire heart.”
You nod vigorously at his words. “Always Raf,” you gasp, holding onto him as he pounds into you even harder, your spine thudding into the tub, the water cushioning the blows.
“You better never leave me,” he broods, putting every ounce of emotion into the way his cock claims every inch of your poor cunt. The word ‘again’ dies on his lips, the writhing artist above you opting to save that for another time.
“W-would – nnghnh – never leave you.”
His wild eyes focus on your words. He says simply, the subtleist hint of insecurity and doubt playing in his shaky voice, “I’m gonna – hah – hold you to that.”
You bob your head, wanting him to see how serious you are, see just how much he meant to you.
Your fingers venture to your clit, desperately pent up from all the sexual and emotional tension that’d built up from today. Rafayel doesn’t see you immediately, his head thrown back in a drawn out groan, his body glistening with sweat and bath water, chiseled muscles twitching with his impending release.
When he finally glances back down, he sees your fingers furiously pawing at your clit and he nearly growls at the sight beneath him.
His voice comes out broken and husky, uncharacteristically so for the normally charismatic and smooth-talking painter. He gently pushes your fingers away, his own lengthy and skilled fingers replacing yours.
“Let me,” he begs, hips stuttering as he nears his second release, “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”
His sweet words make you shiver, your body convulsing around him. Rafayel shudders as you grow tighter around him. It felt like you were nearly cutting off his circulation, in the best way. 
Rafayel’s fingers on your quivering bundle of nerves have you seeing lightning even with your eyes screwed tightly shut. He truly had the hands of a god, fingers slender and deft, the pads of his digits hardened from years of skilfully maneuvering expensive paint brushes. Your body was his canvas, and he’d spend hours creating art with you. 
“R-Rafayel, I’m soo – nngh – c-cloose,” you slur, your body arching into him, head thrown back until all you see is the ceiling above. 
Rafayel heaves at the sensation of you coming undone around him, his fingers still rubbing furiously. There’s a bright desperation in his glowing eyes, the need to see you cum on him as strong as the need to fill you up with his endless seed. 
As his body trembles above you, his fingers grip the tub so harshly his knuckles have turned taut and deathly white. 
“I-I’m close too, baby,” he groans, “Please, can I cum?”
You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than to feel him release with you But Rafayel wants to hear you. 
“Say it, Y/N. Tell me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.” His voice is so brokenly desperate it drives you closer to your release, the sound of his lewd pleas so utterly erotic. 
“Ra-Rafayel, n-need it s’bad. Shiiit – please!” you all but scream, his insistent fingers pushing you into your orgasm. 
Rafayel chews on his bottom lip as he watches how beautifully you explode on him, so unbelievably close to finishing himself. He desperately wanted to cum inside you, but he knew if he did that he would be at the point of no return. You’d very well spend the rest of your trip in Verona locked in your hotel room, his cock nestled inside you until you literally begged for mercy. And maybe not even then. 
So with every ounce of will he had left, he pulled out of you as he came, standing on his knees so he could wrap his fist firmly around his cock as he came. The force of his cum so strong it shot all over your damp breasts and even your face, your expression still contorted in the ecstasy of your climax. 
You watch in awe, your cunt convulsing around nothing, your orgasm tapering off, as Rafayel trembles through his own pleasure. His cum is hot as it splashes onto your wet body, some of it shooting into your hair. Honestly the sight of how powerfully his cock erupted makes your stomach lurch in arousal.
Rafayel whimpers through his endless orgasm, his fist pumping up and down as he finishes on you. You’re left quivering beneath his imposing body, mesmerized by the white ropes of cum that shoot from his angry red tip. 
When he finally finishes, his glassy eyes watch you, absolutely awestruck. He bends down, his forearms trembling as one grips the side of the tub, the other stroking your cheek. He catches a rivulet of his milky seed with his finger, grinning cheekily at your reddened face.
“I’ve never seen anything so damn beautiful.” 
If it’s even possible, your cheeks burn even more furiously. You swat his fingers away.
“Shut up,” you whine, looking around at your bodies, joined in the filled tub. You inwardly cringe when you notice there’s more pools of milky white fluid than there are bubbles at this point. The amount of cum he gave you every time was nothing short of a phenomenon. 
“It’s everywhere!” you shriek dramatically, hitting his chest above you, “We need to get cleaned up!”
Rafayel’s grin widens, and before you can ask him what he’s scheming, he uses the finger still on your cheek to smear his cum around.
“Rafayel!” you yelp, trying your best to inch away from his filthy fingers, coated in both your arousals, struggling due to the limited space of the tub.
“But you look so exquisite like this,” Rafayel murmurs, fingers capturing your chin, pulling you up to look at him, his eyes hazy and sated, “My beautiful Queen…”
He dips down to press a lingering kiss to parted lips, mouth hitched open in excitement. When he pulls away he grins playfully at you.
“Besides, it’s good for your skin. Lemurians have a lot of uses, you know.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, “Is that why your skin always looks so flawless?”
Rafayel’s cheeks flare, his eyes averting from yours, “Okay! Let’s get cleaned up shall we?”
You smile widely, unable to contain your fit of giggles. Your body shakes with your laughter, making the water ripple, “You’ve tried it haven’t you?”
Rafayel’s sheepish expression answers your question, “No! Shut up!”
“I knew it!”
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
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Little Things He Does
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: tiny bit of smut
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He knew that you were one of those girls who appreciated the little things and for whom physical touch was one of the biggest indicators of love.
With that in mind, Lando tries to do as many of those little things every day just to make you happy. Some of those little things he isn’t even aware he is doing that you, of course, notice and which make you love him even more if that's even possible.
For example, when you’re making your way through a crowd and paparazzi is pushing their cameras in your faces. Lando is tightly holding your hand, constantly turning to check if you're okay, keeping you close to him and trying to shield you as much as possible because he knows it’s very much out of your comfort zone.
“You okay, baby?” He asked.
“Yeah, barely..”
“Just hold on tight to me, we’re almost there, okay?” He assured you squeezing your hand.
Or how while you're walking down the sidewalk, he moves you to the other side so that he's closer to the road.
“So anyway, I told her that it's not a problem, she just needs to let me know about such things earlier so that I can organize myself.” You rambled to him about work on your evening run on the streets of Monaco.
Except on your way back to the apartment you didn't run anymore because you were too tired and wanted to tell him what happened at work earlier today.
“Yeah, you did the right thing. You shouldn’t keep quiet about such things.”
“I mean I have a life outside of work too, you know?” You sighed.
“You know you don’t have to work, baby..” Lando said sliding his hand around you waist and almost imperceptibly moving you to the other side away from the road.
“Lan, don’t even start with that again. We already had that conversation.”
He kept his hand on your lower back for a while before putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to him.
“Or I can do something for you to go on a maternity leave..” He smirked making you burst out laughing.
Or the way he constantly holds your hand even when he’s talking to somebody and when you try to sneak out of his grip he almost instantly grips you tighter as if you’re going to run away. Or when fans ask him for an autograph, and instead of letting go of your hand, he just switches it from his right to left because he wants you close to him all the time.
Or when he has you underneath him while he’s thrusting into you. When he’s so close he lets you know he’s about to come whispering into your ear.
“Oh yes, yes, Lan, uhh” You close your eyes, your voice coming out in broken moans as he keeps knocking the air out of you.
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum” He stuttered whispering before spilling his hot load inside you. He was gasping for air, tingles ran through his body as he buried hos head in your neck riding out his orgasm.
He often tells you “You’re gonna make me cum” as well wanting to remind you that no one can except for you. And you love the way he becomes so vulnerable after he cums.
You could have the dirtiest sex ever the one where he’s spitting into your mouth, choking you, making you gag around him, spanking you and pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow, but once both of you finish he just wants to take care od you and make sure he didn’t take it too far.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks looking down at you and moving your hair out of your face.
“I’m fine, don’t worry” You smiled. “I loved it”
“I love you so much” He whispers spreading small soft kisses all over the side of your neck.
Or when you're in the paddock together and you're both giving interviews at the same time, you're standing a little further away from him but close enough for him to hear what the reporters are questioning you. He doesn't know that you notice how he can't concentrate on the questions they're asking him because he keeps turning his head towards your direction keeping his eyes on you to make sure they're not making you feel uncomfortable. So when the reporter asks him something he just keeps saying "sorry, can you repeat that?"
Or the way that when you're going to some kind of event or even just going out, and you're wearing a short dress or some other kind of risky outfit, he opens the car door for you and stands in front to shield you from the paparazzi until you fix your dress and are ready to step out of the car.
Or the way he always comes to apologize first when you have an argument. Neither of you can stand going to bed fighting, it's not natural for you. It doesn't matter if it's your fault or his, he's always the one who comes first and says "let's not do this".
You weren't even sure how the argument came about, but you found yourself yelling at each other for some stupid reason. You were tired and annoyed because he wasn't listening to what you were saying, he was still stressed from losing the race and you just went off on each other.
He let it take an hour for you both to calm down and give each other some space, but he didn't last much longer than that before he came into the room where you were lying on your shared bed reading a book in the dim light.
He sat next to you on the bed, and you ignored him, not taking your eyes off the book. He then gently took the book from your hands and moved even closer to you taking your cheeks between his palms.
"Let's not do this, okay? I feel bad for yelling and I'm sorry about that." He says caressing your cheek with his thumb. "I don't like when we're fighting and when we can't talk things out."
You remain silent for a few seconds to swallow the tears that have gathered in your eyes. "I don't like it either. I overreacted and I'm sorry too." Your voice cracked and the tears started to roll down your cheeks.
"Baby, hey, there's no reason to cry." He said pulling you to him and kissing the side of your head.
"Sorry, I just feel so bad right now because I know you still feel bad about the race and I feel like I didn't give you enough support and comfort but I just took it out on you for nothing."
"It's okay, baby, being with you now is the only comfort I need."
Or that one time when Lando met a little fan in the paddock who asked him about you.
"Is that your girlfriend?" The little boy asked pointing his finger towards you. You weren't with them but talking to some other fan further away from the two of them.
Lando looked in the direction the boy was pointing and nodded. "Yeah, that's y/n, my girlfriend." He said and the little boy giggled. "What?" Lando chuckled.
"She's pretty." The boy said and Lando couldn't hide his ear-to-ear grin.
He looked towards you again and said "I know, right? The prettiest."
Or the way he kisses you on the cheek. There's something about the way he does it. It just feels so special when he comes up from behind you, wraps his arms around you, pulls you to his chest and presses his lips to your cheek. Or when you're watching TV on the couch and you're lying between his legs leaning against him and every now and then he leans his head down to leave a soft kiss on your cheek.
Lando knows that you don't like too much PDA, especially in front of your friends. You're not a fan of kissing in front of them and Lando respects that, but still manages to steal a kiss on the cheek even in front of them.
Or the way when both of your are in the kitchen and you're trying to reach something from the top shelf and he does it for you before you even get to ask him to.
Or the way he keeps snapping pictures of you when you're not looking.
Or the way he keeps a funny picture of you as his wallpaper.
Or the way he looks at you as you happily jump and sing along when he surprises you by taking you to your favorite concert. He is so fulfilled when you are happy, and that is exactly all he needs, you being happy.
Or the way he talks about you in interviews.
"I live a pretty fast-paced life and I tend to put myself under a lot of pressure. Then there's the pressure of being constantly in the public eye as well. Always on the move, training a lot, it often gets to a point where it just becomes too much, you know? It tends to be very overwhelming and exhausting, but all of that disappears the second I come home to her. She makes all of my worries go away and reminds me of what's really important in life. She always puts me back on track. I couldn't do it without her."
All those little things that he does are anything but little to you.
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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months
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Maybe Spencer is having a bad BAD day, full on ptsd, and sunshine!reader is trying hard to cheer him up. It gets to a point where Spmcer just snaps and says something mean and starts a fight
Spencer can feel the bars around him. He feels trapped in his own mind because he can see that he isn’t in prison anymore, but his brain has been conjuring these vivid dreams of him being back and of Shaw sending men to beat him up.
Every night, the dreams end with Spencer never being found not guilty and him having to spend five years in prison and his eventual death from Shaw’s men.
He’s gasping and shaking and there’s a sweat spot on his sheets. He apologises every morning, you tell him it’s okay and that you’re here to talk. He never wants to talk about it and you never push.
He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night and it makes him irritable.
When he comes into work, you try not to internalise the way he brushes you out of his path as he beelines for the coffee pot.
“I already put your cup on your desk. With breakfast.” You try to temper your cheeriness when you notice the way his shoulders tense.
Spencer wants to be grateful, but all he can think is, ‘I can do it myself. I can take care of myself.’
He doesn’t say anything, not a quiet thanks, not even a half smile.
Your nerves are frayed immediately.
You don’t know what Spencer experienced in prison, he’s told you bits and pieces, the nicer parts of living in a 4 x 4.
Yet, you know the signs of PTSD and as the day drags on, you’re almost certain Spencer’s having a rough go of things.
He’s been snappy with Luke, nice with Penelope, and then flippant with you all over again. It’s hard not to feel like nothing you do is helping.
“We could go out to get lunch. From the place you like, the burger joint.” Spencer’s been slipping in and out of this conversation and the longer he hears your sweet voice, the more it sounds like chalk grating a blackboard.
At his silence, “Or we could order in? Whatever helps, Spence.”
Suddenly, his coffee cup is shattering in the wall behind your head and Spencer’s chest is racing. “Stop!” You feel hot tears prick behind your eyes at being yelled at; at work no less.
“It would help if you weren’t fucking hovering all the damn time. I can take care of myself, I don’t need your help. As a matter of fact, I don’t want your help. Go find someone else to be happy go lucky with, some of us can’t stand it.”
Your breath hitches, you’ve never heard Spencer speak with such venom. You reach a hand to your cheek pulling it away to find blood on your fingertips. Spencer must see it too because he’s on his feet, reaching for you as you step away from his outstretched hands.
You try to remind yourself that he’s just reeling, that he’s been having a rough couple of nights, that this will pass and that you don’t need to be mean to him too. “Fuck you Spencer.” The words are out of you before you can think about it much more. It’s honestly the nicest thing you could muster right now, embarrassment and defeat hot in your chest.
Emily and Matt rush in, finding Spencer tugging at his hair. Emily sighs as she sees the broken mug, Matt sighs as he notes your missing presence.
“Fucking stupid.” Spencer murmurs to himself, pushing back his chair, digging around in his desk for a first aid kit. “I’ll come back and clean it up,” no one is really listening. Emily will do this for him while he cleans up his other mess.
Spencer finds you in the bathroom with Penelope cleaning the little shards from your hair and cheek.
She glares at him and Spencer feels even worse; to top it off you don’t even look at him, just at his shoes.
“I’ll finish it, Garcia.” She stills, not knowing what to do. As she looks at you, you give her a little nod and she leaves, rubbing your back as she goes.
Spencer doesn’t approach you for some time, standing there like you’re the one who exploded and he’s waiting for another shout.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, taking up the tweezers Penelope left behind and reaching for your cheek. Spencer cradles your face gently as he picks the shards out. “I shouldn’t have thrown the mug, or said any of what I said.”
You don’t say anything, letting him continue. “You don’t hover, and I love that you’re always smiling and happy. It’s not an excuse but my dreams are really getting to me, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”
You offer Spencer your other hand. You weigh your words, “No you shouldn’t have. I understand that some of what happened while you were in prison is too hard to talk about, but you need to talk to someone Spencer. You can’t just throw things and scream and then shut people out.”
He nods, “Luke recommended me to a psychiatrist for people suffering from PTSD, but I guess I felt like going would be me admitting that things there got to me.”
You sigh, “I’m not sure if I can do this if you’re going to shut me out and be violent like that.” At Spencer’s panicked eyes you continue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but this unchecked shit is going to. Whether you mean for it to or not.”
Spencer opens the first aid kit and swipes at your cheek gently, grateful that it hadn’t been a deep cut. Still he knows the silver scar it’s going to leave will eat at him forever.
“I made an appointment for tomorrow at nine.” He mumbles, worry and dread eating at his stomach. “I know it might take a bit for you to trust me again-“
You roll your eyes, “I do trust you. I trust that you’ll go to therapy, use all the tools given to you and cue me in when things are too hard. I trust that you won’t do this again Spencer. I’m not going to punish you for having an off day.”
Tears spring to his eyes unconsciously, “You don’t want to leave? Because I’d understand if you wanted to.”
You kiss his wrist, “No I don’t want to. I know you’re going to get better, but if there’s a next time, Spencer I’m not staying.”
“There won’t be a next time, I swear.” He kisses right under your injured cheek, tender and soft.
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bitalis · 1 year
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i should probably update the app so i can get the ability to turn features on and off
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starkwlkr · 6 months
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it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
“hello?”
“mark, hi.”
“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.
“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.
“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.
“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”
“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”
“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”
“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”
“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.
“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”
maybe . .
“does he hate me?”
there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.
“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”
“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”
after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.
y/n
hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.
after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.
seb
hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)
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@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict
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verstappen-cult · 7 months
Note
okay but why do I feel like this is just 100% max? 😭 like he’s so grrrr to everyone else but when y/n is around he’s an actual golden retriever puppy even if he tries to hide it
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AAA I LOVE YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS! i was actually thinking about this last night, because it has max’s name written all over it and i can picture it like—
Max is known to be a very blunt person, someone who can get frustrated pretty easily, everyone knows that. I mean, he has a reputation. But once you came into his life, a new version of Max appeared. 
He just can’t say no to you. You literally are his weakness, with your big, round eyes and pretty smile always making him feel butterflies in his belly, like a teenager with sweaty hands and an embarrassing crush. Max has even found himself stuttering more than one time. 
When you’re not around, he’s like a lost puppy. But when you are, and you look at him, is like the sky opens up making everything be just right. It’s so fucking corny and he would never, in a million years, admit something like that out loud. 
Just like right now. 
Max is angry and frustrated, deep in an argument with GP — gesturing with his hands as if his life depends on it — when you approach him. 
“Hey,” You say, unaware of what’s happening between them. 
“Hey, baby.” Max turns around, a smile plastered on his pretty face. 
GP sees Max’s face light up at seeing you. 
He turns into a completely different person from one second to the other. It’s laughable, really. 
“You know who I just saw?!” You’re almost hopping on one leg of how happy you are. He smiles, because he loves to see you happy. “Taylor Swift! Max, the Taylor Swift is here, she’s actually in Ferrari’s hospitality.”
“Did you talk to her?” Max asks you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him because why are you so far away? He needs to be touching you at all times. 
“Well, no. I wanted to but I don’t want to make a fool of myself, so, I need you to come with me.” You say, very serious. 
“Baby, I won’t go to Ferrari's hospitality. They will probably think I’m trying to steal something.” Max laughs, looking at GP very briefly only to see him holding his laughter as much as he can. 
“But, Max!” You pout, already putting your signature ‘look at this face, you can’t say no to this face’ face.
“Max, we need to finish with these papers.” His friend reminds him, but Max couldn’t care less at this moment.
“Yeah, well, just give me a couple of minutes. I’ll find you later.”
Max really, really needs to finish his talk with GP, it’s important because tomorrow’s the race and there are so many things wrong with the car, but he lets you drag him away. GP’s laugh can be heard around the paddock, people actually turn around to see what’s happening. Max just gives him the finger and follows you to Ferrari’s hospitality to meet Taylor Swift, shooting death glares at anyone who dares to look at him.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 5 months
Note
could you please do one where theo nott boasts about his hickeys from us to his mates and then we hear him and drag him upstairs and he goes all subby :)) btw love ur posts!!!
I would dieeee if you wrote about a needy Theo who is eating the reader out and he enjoys it so much he finishes without even being touched. I love when he’s subby
I combined these two asks, so I hope you guys like it!
Liar
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Warnings: Cussing, oral(female receiving), shoe humping
18+ Minors DNI!
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You had just entered the Slytherin common room when you heard Theo’s friend teasing him about the hickeys, but instead of getting flustered, he bragged about it.
“Yeah, I made my girl feel so good, she couldn’t contain herself. Needed to leave her mark.” Theo said with a smug smile.
That’s not what you recall, though. You recall teasing him by kissing and biting his neck until he begged to fuck you.
So you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around him sweetly. “Oh, I don’t think it went that way.” 
Theo looked at you with wide eyes, surprised you were there and that you were about to call him out. “Ah, doesn’t matter.” He tried waving off your statement dismissively.
“It doesn’t? But you’re bragging about it, love. It apparently does.” You smile at him.
His friends were laughing. “Stop.” He whispered to you.
“Upstairs. Now.” You whispered back to him and he didn’t even hesitate before letting you pull him to his dorm.
You closed the door and crossed your arms. “So, you think it’s okay to lie about me now?”
“You know how the guys are.” He tried shrugging it off.
“Do I need to remind you of last night? Of how I had you begging?”
He swallowed, his eyes looking down. “I could use a reminder.”
You rolled your eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You want me to make you feel good after what you just pulled?”
“I’m sorry, cara mia.” He said, kneeling in front of you.
“Doesn’t sound sincere.” You tsked.
“Please, bella, I’m sorry, I won’t lie again.” He started rubbing at your thighs.
“If you want me to make you feel good, beg.”
“Please, please, make me feel good, principessa.”
“You can use my shoe. I’m not doing any work after what you pulled.” You said, leaning back on your hands.
His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that answer.
“Go on. Give yourself some relief.” You tilted your head expectantly.
He looked humiliated but moved to rub himself against the toe of your shoe, whimpering at the contact.
“Needy boy, willing to get yourself off with just my shoe. If only your friends knew.” You say mockingly.
“Please let me fuck you, cara mia. I’ll do everything. Make you feel good.” He begged, a moan escaping his lips as he kept humping your shoe.
“I don’t know. Gonna make me feel so good, I can’t contain myself?” You asked, using his words against him.
“I’ll make you feel so good, please.” He said, pressing kisses to your thigh.
“You can eat me out.” You said, spreading your legs for him. “But you can’t touch yourself.”
“Deal.” He said, wasting no time in nearly tearing off your panties. He buried his face between your thighs, licking at your cunt eagerly as he wrapped his arms around your thighs.
“Fuck. That desperate, baby?” You teased, tangling a hand in his hair.
He just moaned into you.
“You’re so fucking good at this, Theo. You like pleasing me?” You asked, tugging his hair gently and he looked up at you.
“Fucking love it.” He replied quickly before going back to licking at your clit.
“Better use of your mouth than lying about me, right?” You smiled at him and he nodded, sucking at your clit.
He kept licking and sucking, desperately trying to get you off, his own moans and groans nearly overpowering yours. You came with a cry of his name and some curses, body trembling as he helped ride it out. He pulled back and pressed kisses to your thighs to help calm you.
“Fuck. You still want me to make you feel good, baby?” You asked, cupping his cheek.
“No need.” He said, smiling a bit sheepishly.
“What do you mean?” You asked curiously.
“I might’ve…already…” He looked down and you followed his eyes.
“Oh.” You said once you saw the wet patch on his pants. “Just from giving me head?” You smiled.
“Yes?” He answered but in more of a question.
“I love the power I have over you.”
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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fastandcarlos · 2 months
Text
Study Hard : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: as proud as he is as you near the end of your degree, charles can’t help but worry about the levels you’re pushing yourself to in order to achieve it
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The sight that greeted him was far from what Charles expected to see, walking into your apartment Charles was met by you, busying yourself on the sofa with books stacked as far as the eye could see. 
“Have you left that spot all day?” Charles asked, having left you there hours ago. 
“I got myself a drink a while ago,” you responded, not tearing your eyes from your book as you carefully read through the page. 
A sigh came from George as you found what you were looking for, picking up your laptop and typing away the source. Knowing that you’d only got yourself a drink immediately left Charles concerned, you were working yourself incredibly hard, and despite him continually reminding you to take care of yourself, it seemed as if you were doing anything but. 
The end was in sight for you now, but Charles was becoming increasingly concerned that you wouldn’t reach that end if you continued to work yourself as hard as you were doing currently. 
Charles sorted himself out, putting his keys away and slipping off his shoes before trying to find a space on the sofa where he could sit.  
“Love,” Charles whispered, poking against your arm as your eyes finally glanced across to look at him. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you muttered, putting everything down for a moment, even if you didn’t really want to. “How was your day? Did you have a good practice run?” 
“It was good,” he weakly smiled, “how’s your day been? You look busy.” 
“There’s lots to be getting on with,” you told him, pointing to all your books and paperwork, “but I’ve been getting a few breaks in and making sure that I stop for a while,” you then assured Charles, although he was far from convinced.  
“Right,” Charles hummed, his eyes studying you closely as you were itching to return to your laptop. “How about I go and get sorted and then we can do something together?” 
“Yeah, that would be nice,” you smiled, watching as Charles stood up from where he was sat. “I’ve only got this little bit left to do and then I can put all of this away for a little while.” 
Charles rushes to get himself sorted, hurrying down the stairs, hopeful that everything is tidy for you two to hang out. But it is anything but. 
You still looked as if you hadn’t moved when Charles came downstairs, you didn’t even notice him reappearing as he stood and watched you, his arms folded in front of his chest as he tried to not let you see just how frustrated he was becoming with you. 
Charles gives you a moment, wondering if maybe you need to just finish something, but when you pick up yet another book, his patience seems to run out with you. 
“Come on, time to stop with this for a while,” Charles encourages, going to pick something up. 
You leap across and snatch it from Charles, placing the paper back in its rightful stop. “You can’t just move these things Charles, they’re important.” 
“I’m well aware of how important this degree is to you love, but aren’t I important too?” Charles questioned, throwing his arms up in frustration. 
You stop what you’re doing, placing everything down as your hands run over the top of your head. You’d been working incredibly hard, some would argue a little too hard, and perhaps Charles had a point that you were beginning to forget about the man who always took such good care of you. 
As you remain silent, Charles moves closer to you, worried that he’s ended up upsetting you more than he intended. “Why don’t we put this away for the night?” 
Your head shook back at Charles, “I’ve still got so much to do.” 
“Really?” 
“I’m still lacking in sources for this to be a credible dissertation, I’m so far off the word count it’s embarrassing, and I’ve not even proofread any of what I wrote today,” you began to explain to him. “There’s only a few weeks left and if I don’t start pulling my finger out to get this done then there’s no way I’m going to get my degree, and if I don’t get my degree, I can’t get the job, and then who knows what I’ll do?” You fret, rambling away to Charles as you let your concerns get the better of you. “I don’t mean to do all of this and leave us doing nothing but if I don’t get on then I’m just going to end up further behind everyone else Charles.” He reached across and took a hold of your hand before he could let you rant any further, sensing that you were beginning to get yourself overwhelmed.  
“Babe, just listen to me,” Charles whispered, pulling you closely into his side. “You’re doing incredibly well, but you’re going to end up sick if you carry on like this.” 
“Charles I-” 
“No,” Charles continued, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “It’s inspiring seeing how much this means to you, but you’ve still got to make sure that you’re prioritising yourself my love.” 
“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted as your voice began to falter, moving even closer into Charles. “Every time I try and relax and stop stressing, I just end up overthinking all the things I still have to do.” 
Charles let you vent, he lets you debrief, knowing it’s what’s been bubbling for so long. You’d tried to pretend that you were fine for so long, but Charles knew you much better than that. 
“It’s alright,” Charles whispered as he leant back on the sofa with you, moving you away from all of your books. 
“I’m exhausted with all this,” you sighed, burying into Charles’ chest. 
“I know you are, I know it’s hard,” Charles sympathised, knowing better than anyone how hard you were pushing yourself, “let’s not fret about this anymore tonight.” 
“Y-you’re right,” you stuttered, feeling Charles press a kiss against the top of your head, “can I just leave all this here?” 
“Let’s head to bed,” Charles suggested, knowing the thought of tidying up all of your mess was enough to potentially tip you over the edge. 
You don’t even protest as Charles takes your hand and helps you up from the sofa to wander over to the stairs. You allow him to guide you, your steps lazy and slow as you finally realise just how tired your body is. Everything aches, from your mind to your toes after cramping up on the sofa for most of the afternoon, you’re ready to just shut down from everything that’s been going on. 
It takes a moment for you to really allow yourself to forget the work that is scattered around your living room, but Charles doesn’t let you look back for long before walking you up the stairs and straight for your bedroom, knowing it’s the perfect place for you to be. 
Once you’re there, you flop down, Charles quickly joining you. He immediately takes on the role of big spoon and brings you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he can to take your mind off of things. 
“This is where we should be,” Charles mused as he rested his head on top of yours, “I forgot how nice it was to cuddle up to you, you’ve left me starved of affection for so long.” 
Your eyes roll at Charles’ dramatics, something he can tell you’re doing after so long together. Best of all though, Charles could feel you relaxing in his hold which was the only thing that he wanted for you. 
“Thank you for always looking out for me, even though I’m a pain,” you whispered back to Charles, “this will all be over soon enough.” 
“I just want you to be careful,” Charles reminded you, “I’m beyond proud of you, but I don’t want to see all your hard work see you hurt yourself too.” 
“I promise that I’ll take better care of myself.” 
“And I’ll make sure that I’m right there with you to take care of you too babe.” 
“What would I do without you?” You chuckled as your eyes began to close. 
Charles went to reply but soon noticed you settling down, deciding to fall silent and finally let you get some well-deserved sleep, with Charles right there when you woke up. 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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roseyuri · 27 days
Text
⋆。𖦹°‧ PUSHIN’ N PULLIN’ kim minji x reader
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𝜗𝜚 MINJI & YN BEING AND OLD MARRIED COUPLE FOR FIVE MINUTES 972k veiws
౨ৎ warnings: idol!au, 6th member reader, minji and yn argue like it’s their 9-5 job… again, yn and minji from pushin’ n pullin’
⋆。𖦹°‧ CLIP ONE
“yn, you’ve been quite popular lately huh?” the interviewer said to yn, this was new jeans first comeback and their first time being on a radio show and yn seemed to be the target of questions so far with her popularity right off the bat after their debut.
”she’s everyone’s ideal type.” another one of the guys added as the watched her bashfully smile while laughing nervously, brushing the comments off.
“why are you acting all shy, we all know you have a big ego.” minji cuts in looking at yn who sat across the table from her and immediately gave the girl a deadly glare while everyone in the room laughs.
“if I have a big ego you have a big mouth.” yn snaps back at minji quick not even flinching when haerin pinched her arm, while everyone laughs even harder not even realizing this wasn’t some kind of playful banter between minji and yn.
⋆。𖦹°‧ CLIP TWO
“you know me like no other…” yn sang towards the mic that’s in front of her, she swayed to the live band feeling the music.
“see me like no other, and I think I like your point of view…” she sang the words beautifully before looking at minji who raised her brow at yn questioning why the girl was staring at her.
as danielle sang her lines all yn did was stick her tongue out at minji, causing minji to playfully move her face closer to yn but definitely way to close for yn’s comfort.
yn screeched in her mic the sound interrupting danielle while minji bursted out laughing at the way yn embarrassed herself.
as much as yn wanted to give minji a peice of her mind because she hated when minji did that, she saw the look their manager gave them and decided to just look straight ahead for the rest of the song.
⋆。𖦹°‧ CLIP THREE
the group was gathered in a comfy decorated room for their anniversary live, having a casual conversation about their day. the camera captured minji and yn sitting on the couch together, with minji casually resting her arm on the backrest behind yn.
“yn, remember that time you got lost in the building after practice?” haerin asked, giggling at the memory.
yn groaned, covering her face with her hands. “don’t remind me. that was so embarrassing.”
minji leaned in closer, teasing, “you were so panicked that you called me five times in a row. you were practically in tears.”
yn glared at minji, her cheeks flushing. “I was not in tears! I was just... concerned.”
minji chuckled, patting Yn on the back. “sure, let’s call it that. but who came to rescue you, huh?”
yn sighed, knowing where this was going. “you did, okay? you came to rescue me.”
minji grinned triumphantly, giving yn a nudge. “that’s right. see, you need me around.”
yn rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the annoyed smile on her face. “yeah, well, don’t get too cocky. It’s not like I’d get lost again.”
minji leaned back, looking at yn with a knowing smile. “we’ll see about that.”
⋆。𖦹°‧ CLIP FOUR
the group was filming behind-the-scenes content for their fans. the camera captured yn trying to tie her shoelaces while minji stood beside her, impatiently tapping her foot.
“hurry up, we’re going to be late,” minji scolded, leaning down to help yn tie the laces.
“I can do it myself,” yn grumbled, swatting minji’s hands away.
“you’re taking forever,” minji retorted, finally giving up and crouching down to finish the task herself. “you know, sometimes I feel like I’m raising a child.”
yn pouted, crossing her arms as she watched minji tie the laces perfectly. “I’m not a child, you’re just bossy.”
minji finished and stood up, ruffling yn’s perfectly done hair causing the girl the glare at minji with a smug smile. “you’re right, but at least you know who’s in charge here.”
as minji walked ahead of yn, yn shook her head the camera before following behind the girl.
⋆。𖦹°‧ CLIP FIVE
during a live, the members were reading comments from fans when one particular message caught their attention.
“yn and minji, you two argue like an old married couple,” hyein read out loud, causing the rest of the members to giggle.
yn scoffed, “yeah, well, minji’s the one who always starts it.”
minji, who was sitting beside yn, shook her head in mock disbelief, “excuse me? you’re the one who always has to have the last word.”
“oh please, I just defend myself because you never stop nagging,” yn shot back, glaring at minji.
the fans flooded the chat with laughing, thoroughly entertained by their banter. meanwhile, the other members simply watched with amused smiles, knowing this was just another typical day for minji and yn
⋆。𖦹°‧ CLIP SIX
during a photo shoot for a magazine, the concept required the members to pose in pairs, showing off their chemistry and friendship. naturally, minji and yn were paired together for some reason that two girls could never understand . the photographer asked them to do a playful pose, so minji put her arm around yn’s shoulders, pulling her closer.
as they posed yn couldn’t help but groan. “minji, you’re holding me too tight!”
minji side eyed yn , tightening her grip just a little more. “I’m just making sure you don’t run away.”
yn whined, trying to wiggle out of minji’s hold. “I’m not going anywhere! but seriously, loosen up a bit.”
the photographer snapped a few shots, capturing their natural banter. “perfect, just like that! You two are so comfortable with each other.”
both yn and minji side eyed the man at his words.
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harrywavycurly · 2 months
Note
I’m a sucker for a fake marriage AU but what if Harry married us for real but because he had to? Or because he was drunk? Then he falls for us for real?🥹😍
Hiiii babes!! I too love a fake marriage AU they just like hit a special spot in my soul! So I changed this slightly, I hope you don’t mind? 😬💖
A/N: This is kinda short but if you want a part 2 let me know and it’ll go into more detail about everything✨
-find all things Lonely here✨
Summary: Harry is just tired of being lonely and well..he knows you are too so what could it hurt to just be together? Aka Harry asks his bestfriend to marry him✨
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“Harry please stand up.”
“You didn’t even let me finish what-”
“I don’t need to let you finish to know what getting down on one knee means Harry.” Your words are rushed as you feel your breathing begin to become more rapid due to the overwhelming sense of panic that’s settling in your chest. “Please stand up.” You hear him let out a sigh as he reluctantly stands up but stays standing right in front of where you’re sitting on the edge of the pink and orange striped cushion of your outdoor loveseat, you watch him as he reaches over so he can place the ring box on the table next to you.
“Will you just let me explain myself please?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as he watches how you place your hands in your lap and being messing with the ring on your pinky, a habit he knows you do when you’re nervous or stressed. He immediately takes a small step closer to you when he realizes he’s the cause behind you feeling so uneasy, he kneels down so he’s eye level with you and places a hand over both of yours.
“I’m sorry for just dropping to one knee like that.” He gives your hands a little squeeze as he ducks his head down a bit until you finally meet his gaze. “That was a bit dramatic even for me but I just need to get this out okay? And then when I’m done you can do that thing you love to do and ask me a million questions and I’ll answer all of them.” He looks at you and when you just give him a small nod he smiles and stands up after giving your hands one more reassuring squeeze.
Harry clears his throat and readies himself to give you the detailed explanation as to why he showed up to your house for lunch dressed as if he was headed for an event in his powder pink suit with blue button up underneath, roses in his hand and then before you could even serve him a glass of wine he was down on one knee with a box in his hand. You take a few deep calming breaths reminding yourself that the man in front of you is Harry, your bestfriend and he doesn’t do things for no reason so you’ll sit and listen to him because he’d do the same for you if it was you who’d been down on one knee in front of him not even five minutes ago. He runs a hand through his hair as he finally lets his eyes find yours just as a playful smirk takes over his face as his eyes flicker to the roses on the table next to the loveseat you’re sitting on before returning to you.
“We’ve been friends for what? Eleven years now?” You know by the playfully tone of his voice that he doesn’t actually want you to answer him. “I remember we met at that house party and I was so flattered that you were going to let me be the first frat boy to take you home.” You roll your eyes as the memory of meeting Harry replays in your mind.
It was at a college house party and he was in the kitchen with a red solo cup in his hand, a backwards SnapBack covering up his beautiful head of curls, a red flannel half buttoned and a pair of black skinny jeans. You thought he looked actually like the fraternity boys your fiends had warned you about but there was something different about him, the way his smile seemed so genuine when he saw you walk into the small space and offered you a drink and it was when you saw the dimples and heard his accent that you knew you were in trouble. The two of you stuck together the rest of the party and when it was starting to get too wild for your taste you told him he could take you home and Harry who’s always been a gentleman, said his place was closer.
“Then you had to go and ruin the moment by throwing up all over my boots.”
“I ruined the moment? It wasn’t the fact you weren’t even a frat boy but just a member of some boyband who liked to crash college parties?” This makes Harry let out a huff as he shakes his head at your teasing.
“Some boyband? That’s a bit rude love.” He playfully glares at you as you lean back and get more comfortable in your seat. “But that’s also the night we became bestfriends because as I helped you get home and held your hair while you got sick we just talked all night and if I remember correctly which we both know my memory is one of my strong suits then that’s also the first time you stole one of my shirts.” The playful smile that’s on his lips makes you look down at your hands in your lap and lift a shoulder in a casual shrug.
“You gave it to me.” You argue as you look up making Harry just nod as the smile on his face grows.
“I did didn’t I?” He asks and the look on his face tells you he was almost testing you to see if you remember the night the same way he does. “You remember the kiss right? In the backyard by-”
“The pool. Yes Harry I remember.” You don’t know why the memory of Harry kissing you drunkenly by a pool at a house party makes your cheeks get warm in embarrassment but it does. “What’s this have to do with you getting down on one knee?” You want him to get on with the explanation because going down memory lane with him isn’t something you’re sure you have the energy for right now.
“Right. Sorry.” He shake his head as if to try to refocus his thoughts on what he’s actually trying to get across to you. “I feel like I have everything I could ever want in life. I have more money than I know what to do with and I have a career that I love and I’m finally at a place where I can just sit back and enjoy all the hard work I’ve done over the last fifteen years of my life and relax a little but taking this time off has made me realize something.” Your eyes meet his as he lets out a sigh as he looks into your eyes and you swear you see a hint of sadness tucked away in the dark specks of his bright green eyes. “I don’t have anyone to share my life with. I know I have my family and friends but I’m still so fucking lonely.” His voice is lower than before and your heart aches for him, you know Harry isn’t one that’s ever dealt with being alone very well and all this free time has been a little harder on him than he intended it to be.
“I just want to be with someone that makes saying goodbye hard and that makes me want to rush home just because I know they’re there waiting for me.” The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights the small smile that wants to form. “I want to be someone’s husband and I think that someone should be you.” You feel your mouth drop open as your eyes widen at his statement.
Harry lets you have a few moments to let his words sink in as he takes a few steps towards the table the roses are on so he can grab the box he had in hands when he was down on one knee. He gently opens the top and reaches in and takes the simple gold band out and holds it between his index finger and thumb before placing the empty box back on the table. When he looks over at you he just gives you a reassuring grin when he sees you’re already looking up at him.
“I know you’re lonely too sweetheart.” You let out a shaky breath as he kneels down in front of you and gently grabs your left hand. “But you don’t have to be anymore.” Your eyes glance down at your hand as Harry starts to slowly slide the band on your ring finger. “We already have a great foundation because no one knows you better than me right?” He gives you a playful wink as he slides the band past your knuckle.
“Like I know how you take your coffee in the morning and how you need to be held when you’re upset. I know how to make your perfect bubble bath and I can tell if you’re in a bad mood just by the way you text me. I know when you need red wine and when you need white or when you just need a bottle of tequila and a lime. I know all your fears and I know all the amazing dreams you have and I’ll happily help you make them come true if you’ll let me.” You sniffle as you feel your eyes start to have that familiar sting letting you know you’re a few moments away from full on crying.
“Harry-”
“I love you and I know you’re going to tell me it’s not the same as being in love with you but I think that will come with time? Don’t you? I know you love me too and I don’t see how this couldn’t work? It’s not even like the physical stuff would be weird because we’ve hooked-”
“You shouldn’t marry someone just because you’re lonely Harry.” You have to stop him from saying anything else as you feel a few tears escape from your eyes as they roll down your cheeks and before you can wipe them away Harry has his hands cupping the sides of your face and his thumbs are gently swiping them away.
“I’m lonely yes but that’s not the only reason why I want to marry you. I think you might be my person and I just spent too long trying to just keep you in my life anyway that I could and now I just can’t imagine myself being anyone else’s husband but yours.” He knows he sounds crazy but he also knows he’s talking to you, the one person who understands him the most.
“Why now?” You ask as you reach up and place one of your hands over his that’s still holding the side of your face.
“We aren’t getting any younger love so figured it was now or never.” His answer makes you chuckle as you lean into his touch. “I know this is a lot and if you need some time that’s fine.” You just nod as he leans forward and places a kiss to your forehead, you drop your hand from the top of his so he can release the sides of your face. “Just don’t take too much time yeah? You know how I get.” He half heartedly jokes as he stands up, you watch him look down at your hand and a small smile creeps onto his face as he sees the gold band sitting nicely on your ring finger.
“Call me when you’re ready sweetheart.” Is all he says as he leans down and kisses the top of your head before he turns and heads towards the gate of your backyard that will take to your driveway where his car is parked. You just sit there and stare at the ring on your finger as you hear the sound of his car starting up, you feel your eyes fill with a new wave of tears as the sound of his car backing out of your driveway hits your ears.
“Oh god.” You mumble to yourself as you place your head in your hands as the events of the afternoon really hit you, your bestfriend really asked you to marry him. You close your eyes as you come to the understanding that while he admitted he does love you he’s not in love with you, making you face something that you’ve been trying to avoid for years, the fact you actually are in love with him. So now you’re left with two choices, marry him and hope he does one day fall in love with you or tell him no and hope it doesn’t ruin the friendship the two of you have.
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azullumi · 6 months
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"my love, mine, all mine" ; aventurine
summary — to say the two of you were ‘in love’ was something too vague and weak to fully express how you hold each other.
pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship, dual pov (his before yours), all soft and yearning and love, mix of the holy trinity (fluff, angst, and comfort), love is such a weak word and adoration is never enough, metaphors (u know me), not proofread, 1.5k words ; one-shot
tagging — @toorurs !! surprise ?
note — ichiko aoba was my inspiration for this one. anwss sleep took me out three times while i was writing this so it took me some time to finish. this is both day 4 and 5 of writing for him.
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aventurine begins to notice the subtlety and learns to love the little things that make up your being.
like how you knit your eyebrows and bite the end of your pen, if not your nails, whenever you are too focused on something to the point that it’s getting you frustrated and how you would often pace the room while in deep thought because it helps keeps your mind running. he, too, takes notice on how you would arrange things in a specific order because it makes you feel satisfied and although he never really understood it all, something in the way you beam with such light reminds him of sunrise and makes his chest swell with warmth.
(you have never told him any of those things but he has eyes that follow you everywhere and threaten blindness when you are out of his sight.)
there are moments where you sleep that you’ll hum and say incoherent words, and oftentimes, he could make out his name in between your mumbles; the thought that you dream of him too comforts him. and perhaps you’ll never know but whenever you’re half-asleep, you’ll cuddle whichever is closest to you and he has to move your hands so that you’ll embrace him instead of the pillow by your side—it’s a secret that he will take to his grave.
or when you’re nervous or agitated, you would resort to biting your lip and fidgeting with your hands—oftentimes you play with your bracelet or the cuffs of your sleeves—and he holds the responsibility of diverting your attention to somewhere else; his voice, like a lull, soothes the storm that forms in your thoughts.
“do you think i can do it?” your voice breaks out into that of the nervous waters, hands shaking as the anxiety settles into your tense shoulders. the feathers of uneasiness sheds into the crevices of your mind as you think of the upcoming event that looms over your being.
“i’m sure you can.” he says and the softness of his tone soothes the unquiet thoughts that spill out of your mouth. he looks at you with a certain light in his eyes (his gaze would tug at the hem of your shirt with the fists of a child that has never known misery).
“it’s scary…” you groan, form crumbling and you bite into your lip, an unintentional habit that you do when everything seems to become so overwhelming. “what if i make a fool out of myself? what if i mess up and make a mistake?”
“there’s no need to let these worries weigh on your mind. you’re capable of doing more so you don’t have to think so little of yourself.” he wasn’t exactly the best at comforting but he tries, hoping that his words would be able to ease you of your burden. “you’ve done this many times, remember? and every single time, you succeed. even then, it’s never about making a fool out of yourself but how you were so courageous and lovely.”
aventurine takes hold of your trembling hands into his and his thumb begins to draw circles on the skin near your knuckles. silence draws between you two and he notices your breathing coming into a steady; expression becoming soft with no lingering trace of worry that bites into your lip.
“you know, i didn’t think you had the knack for comforting.”
“i try.” only for you, he does.
he likes the way the light spills into your form as you sleep, likes the mess you leave behind as your presence lingers in his home—leave the scent of your cologne in his shirt and forget your scarf behind so you can have a reason to come back—, likes the sweetness of your lips as you kiss him and he prays that he’ll taste just as much.
(“you taste like candy and forgiveness.”)
aventurine could list out all of the little things he adores about you and he picks up these subtle nuances then carves it into his hands to call his own; he began to engrave your form in his mind that his thoughts would form into an image of you, he learned how to spell out your name in his dreams in hopes that his voice will reach you in yours, he started to memorize the lines in your palm so that he’ll remember how your hand feels.
how does he tell you that the reason he falls into tragedy and a melancholic state is because he loves you and the words are never enough to tell you how he feels? he tries to in different ways, in the manner of his actions and the way he speaks of you. whenever he holds your hand, he squeezes yours three times to silently say ‘i love you’ even if you’ll never know nor understand the meaning behind his gestures—you’ll never be able to read the words he paints into your skin because you were too busy looking at his. 
he never knew what it was like to have something—or someone—to call his own until he stumbled upon your soul. he will desire and look for you like a thirsty man who longs for water, like the shore who dreams to drown in the ocean but could only feel waves of its caress, like a lost child who seeks for their mother’s cradle, like a sunflower who only knew the light of the sun (he’ll search for you in everyone else for the rest of his life and he hopes he’ll never find you).
he thinks he likes you too much, it might be his demise.
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aventurine often reminds you of the sun.
it wasn’t about the way he dressed or the way he held himself—so radiant and brilliant as he wears those sparkling jewelry and watch, as he puts on his expensive coats over his tailored shirts and pants—but he was warm in a way that it reminds you of cold mornings and the soft raw comfort that you feel under the blanket with him, he was bright in a way of a sole candle in the dark that guides you back to the light, where you’re supposed to be. 
(a burst of sunlight would spill into every room that he walks into and you wouldn’t mind coming close to him even if it will end up burning your wings.)
but sometimes you see him in the reflection of the river as it runs along the rocks and you’ll think of how spring would be so nice if he’s beside you watching the flowers bloom. you see him in the wind that caresses your hair as you walk through the field and you’ll remember how he used to embrace you during winter, stealing all of the warmth that is left of your body as he intertwined his cold hands into your own—you’ll push him away, only lightly, as he holds you closer and snuggles his face into your neck but you never want him to leave; you could never bear the thought of watching his back as he walks away from you.
you see him everywhere, in the morning that you wake up to, the noon that you drag yourself through, and the night that you sleep into. you wouldn’t know what to do if his light would die out, leaving you in the frigid darkness without his presence. you wouldn’t know what to do if his eyes would stop holding your fingers with the neediness of a child who has never known death and cruelty.
“don’t go where i can’t follow.” you’ll let him bring you anywhere—even if it's far from the familiarity of your home, far from the people you love, far from the places you’ve known, as long as he stays with you. you’ll walk with him into the danger and through hell, you’ll accompany him in the rain and the wind, but you will not let him go where you can’t follow. you will never cross the line if it means you’re leaving him behind; you’ll rather let the abyss swallow you just so you could be with him.
“never leave me behind.” you’ll whisper to nothingness.
the simplicity and your adoration for him was the finest feature that composes the puzzle of your soul. there wasn’t a single thing that he’ll do to make you hate him, there was nothing he can do to make you despise him. and perhaps, it may become destructive and pathetic but you’ll do anything for him and he doesn’t have to use the word ‘please’, nor would he have to beg for anything from you; he asked you to call him handsome and you compared him to the stars—and the stars and their glory was never enough in comparison to his shadow.
(you’ll taste his flesh with only gentle hands and soft mouth even if you’ll still be left starving and desiring for more—to say you love him was never enough.)
you like him too much, the affection would spill from your hands and you’ll pick them up with your teeth.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
notice how there's no dialogue from aventurine in reader's pov? yeah.
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joedirtymadre · 4 months
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Your First Fight
Headcanon 🫶 (Pls send more requests)
LUFFY + ZORO + SANJI + LAW + ACE + SABO
LUFFY
“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me,” he said as he watched you pace around the room. “Are you serious? I asked you to stay behind on the ship, because you know this island is known to be a common Navy stop! All I needed was to grab some herbs and plants for the garden and who do I see rocketing into the middle of the plaza?” You asked, knowing damn well who it was. “Me…” he replied softly. “Exactly! I asked you to stay behind and watch the ship with the others! Why can’t you do the simplest of tasks?” You yelled. “So what if I left? I got bored, and why are you trying to tell me what to do?! If you want me to remind you, I’m your captain! You listen to me!” He yelled back.
“Well it obviously doesn’t look like it, since you were hurling at max speed into a Navy base island without a care in the world! Grow up! I asked you to stay behind because we had others who needed to stock up on supplies, which means you had to stay behind and make sure we’re not discovered or the ship isn’t hijacked!” You yelled. “We would have been fine! We always escape, so why are you so mad at me?” He asked. “Just because it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it won’t. Plus I asked you to do something and you just ignored it,” You replied. “Well if you want to boss people around so much, go find your own ship. Maybe you’ll be a better captain,” he said coldly as he walked out of the bedroom.
ZORO
“Hey stop!” You called out to your boyfriend. You were both currently lost… or he was lost, you knew where to go, but Zoro wasn’t listening. “Zoro, I told you a billion times that the ship is the other way,” you said. “I know where it is! You don’t need to babysit me, I’m not a little kid,” he sighed. “I’m not trying to,” you said. “Well it feels like it… like I can’t take a break,” he grumbled. “Ok… but why are you so upset? I’m just giving you dire-“ he cut you off. “Because you’re always doing this!” He shouted as he stopped and looked at you.
“Huh?” You asked. “You’re always… suffocating me. I can never have a moment to myself, ever since we started dating. It’s like you’re a leech and I can never get rid of you for 5 seconds,” he groaned. “Oh…” your voice cracked. “I didn’t m-mean…” you trailed off. “Wait… (Y/N), I didn’t mean all that. I’m just-“ you cut him off. “No… it’s fine, I understand… You just want some space…I’ll head back to the ship, I’ll see you there,” you said as you turned on your heels and ran towards the ship. “(Y/N)!” You heard as you continued to run off.
SANJI
You slowly approached your boyfriend, excited to help him with whatever he needs. “Hey!” You smiled. “Hi beautiful, how are you?” He smiled back. “I’m great, so what are we making today?” You asked. “Nami-swan asked if I could make her some fruit tarts so I’ll be preparing that for her,” he smiled. “Mind if I help? If you finish quickly we can go-“ he cut you off. “Sorry (Y/N), but I’d hate for this to be messed up. It’s better if I do it alone,” he explained.
“Oh… but I normally help you in the kitchen, why can’t I help you with this one?” You asked, confused. “To make sure it’s perfect for my Nami-swan! Plus, you still haven’t mastered certain techniques, and I’d hate for this treat to not be perfect for my beloved Nami,” he swooned. “Seriously?” You huffed. “I didn’t mean to offend you my love, I was just answering your question,” he replied as he began preparing the dessert. “Ok fine, I’ll get out of your way. Maybe your beloved Nami will come help you out in the future,” you said coldly and began walking out of the kitchen. “(Y/N)! Hey! Wait!” He called out, but you continued to your bedroom.
LAW
“(Y/N) you’ve been at that for the past 6 hours, it’s time to take a break,” Law said as he watched you continue to try to fix the electrical issue that’s been causing problems with the motor. “But I can’t just stop now… what if the motor stops when we’re trying to escape from someone?” You asked, feeling frustrated by the uncooperative wires. “Come on, maybe you need some fresh air. We’ve been ducked at this island for a whole day and you haven’t even looked outside to see it,” he sighed. “Well I’m sorry that I’m trying to fix your ship!” You huffed. “That’s fine, but you need a break,” he said.
“Well I don’t want a break, what I want to do is fix this stupid thing!” You groaned. “And I really don’t need someone breathing down my neck when I’m trying to do something!” You added. “I’m just trying to look out for you, but if you’re gonna act like this then I’m leaving,” he said softly and headed towards the exit. “Good, maybe I’ll finally be able to fix this,” you glared as he walked out.
ACE
“Come on babe, are you really still mad at me?” Ace asked as he followed you to your bedroom. “What makes you think that?” You asked as you tried to shut the door in his face, but he quickly stopped it and stepped in. “That’s why,” he frowned. “Just making sure to close the door behind me,” you said as you gave a tight smile. “Come on, what’s the big deal? I’m sorry I left without telling you,” he said as he tried to hold you. “You just don’t understand,” you huffed as you brushed off his embrace. “Then tell me,” he said as he sat on your bed.
“What if you died?” You said bluntly. “Well… that’s being optimistic…” Ace said awkwardly. “I’m serious, what if you died? You really left without me knowing, and sure you made it back safe, but what if next time you’re not so lucky? And I end up finding out my boyfriend died in the middle of the sea, and I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you said softly. “Ok, ok… well I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left. Even though you know I’ll always be safe. So, forgive me now?” He smiled. “No, because you’re not taking me seriously!” You groaned. “Why are you still mad at me? I said, " I'm sorry, don’t worry so much!” He yelled back. “I worry because I love you, but if you’re so dense, then just get out! I don’t know why I even put up with you. When it obviously shows how little you care about my feelings!” You shouted as you pushed Ace out of your room. “Wait, (Y/N) I’m sorry! Let’s keep-“ but you cut his words off with the door.
SABO
“Sabo~” you cooed. “Yes (Y/N)?” He replied. “I’m bored, can you please put the book down for a second and let’s go walk around the island or grab something to eat?” You asked hopefully. “Not today, plus you know we’re not supposed to be venturing out when he has to be on duty,” he explained. “I know, but we both get and hour break from standing guard and you’ve been spending each break reading. Can’t we do something, the two of us? Together?” You added. “Why? We’re spending time together right now,” he rolled his eyes.
Your eyes fell to the floor, “Alright,” you said softly as you headed back to the base. “What’s wrong?” Sabo called out. “Nothing, just gonna head inside,” you replied. You heard footsteps behind you, “What’s wrong? Tell me,” he said as he grabbed your arm. “Sabo we’ve been here for 2 weeks and you don’t want to do any normal couple stuff with me? Not even for an hour?” You asked. “(Y/N) you know-“ you cut him off. “Yeah I know, I also know how hard it is to have a relationship in our positions, but that didn't stop you from asking me out… Plus… I’ve seen you go out with Koala on a few occasions, you didn’t seem to have an issue with the rules then,” you glared. He quickly released your arm. “Hold on, you’re misunderstanding that (Y/N). You know Koala and I-“ you cut him off once again. “I know, but it doesn't mean you’re off having fun with another girl. While your real girlfriend is stuck here watching you read a book,” you said softly before turning on your heels and heading back towards the base.
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