#but I don't make him talk or anything like that

[kamitv]

Thinking about Gojo who…

Spoils you like crazy.

He's got so much money and no idea what to do with it so naturally, once he starts dating you he spends ridiculous amounts of money on you.

Plus, every time he buys you something you have that pretty smile on your face that makes his heart ache. He'd go bankrupt just to see you with that smile on your face for all of eternity.

Doesn't believe in personal space whatsoever.

Technically, you picked up on that before the two of you started dating but either way once you're his girlfriend his touchiness only gets worse.

He loves touching you. How could he not? You have such cute reactions when he rests his head on your shoulder or when he grabs ahold of your waist just cause. Plus, you're shorter than him so don't be surprised when he places his hand atop your head because he finds comfort in it.

And even if you were closer to him in height, that wouldn't change anything. You'd be a tree he's willing to climb, a woman he's down on his knees for. Your physical appearance never really matters to Gojo, if you're his-- he's gonna touch you regardless.

Mocks you 24/7.

Especially during sex. He loves your moans but he also loves teasing you when you can hardly speak, making fun of you for not being able to say his name properly as if he's not the reason why. "Toru's cute baby but that's not my name, y'know." "C'monn, you can say the whole thing," He'd taunt while upping the pace of his thrust, fucking you dumb with a smile on his face, "Satoru baby, say Satoru." "Mmh, close but I want you t'say it without stuttering." "Fuck you're so cute mumblin' like that." "Yeah, yeah, that's close enough. S'toru, heh, sounds like you're missin' a letter there, sweetheart."

If you're nagging him about something and facing the opposite direction, he's mocking your mannerisms and hand gestures because he finds them cute.

Follows you around because he's addicted to your presence.

Hungry? He's trailing behind you into the kitchen. Gotta use the bathroom? How convenient, he has to wash his hands and just can't wait. You're on the phone with someone? Well, put it on speaker so he can talk with you!

There's times where you have the nerve to leave him to go to the store alone and Gojo figures it's a simple fix-- he'll just teleport to you, saying something ridiculous like, "I needed to get some more chocolate," after scaring the shit out of you and despite leaving a home with a pantry full of sweets.

Fucks you like a madman.

Well, when you gaze up at him with tear coated eyes and a cute pout on your face, how could he possibly resist fucking you harder?

You’re his woman and he cherishes you of course but in bed he sometimes acts as though he hates you. His cock is so lengthy so he’s always in deep, muttering some nonsense about needed to go deeper despite having you shaking and crying in pleasure beneath him.

From praises to calling you a slut for his cock, Gojo never knows how to shut the hell up either. He knows you secretly like hearing his “annoying” voice during sex so that’s why he’s always talking you through it.

Sometimes his words are soft just to purposefully contrast the way he’s pounding his cock into you.

Knows he’s the strongest but for you, he considers himself weak.

And for you, he’ll tell you over and over how he’s a weak man.

Whenever you look at him, his heart is doing backflips and his stomach is churning trying to figure out the next thing you’re going to say or do so he can react appropriately.

Before you two got together and he was merely crushing on you, he’d get so nervous simply being in the same room as you.

Struggles with self identity and often finds the missing pieces of himself in you

Claims to be scared of women before he met you.

Although he was nervous at first, once he got to know you he suddenly remembered who he was— cheekily flirting with you as soon as you showed the slightest bit of interest toward him.

He’s a dork, really. But he can tell you fell for him that way do he’ll never try to change that about himself.

Is 100% a drama king.

A big pout is almost always on this man’s face over the smallest things. How does someone with infinity stub their toe? You have no idea but Gojo manages to do so just to come pouting and whining to you.

If someone messes up his food order, he’s calling you to take care of it in a heartbeat and then standing behind you with his arms folded as if to back up whatever you’re saying. (Even though he could’ve taken care of this himself perfectly fine).

If you miss even one of his texts or calls, he’s spamming you and then assuming the most outlandish things afterward. You didn’t see his text because you were in the shower? Oh so you hate him and want him to die??

Calls you the silliest nicknames.

Yes he calls you pookie. And yes you laugh every time because it sounds outlandish coming out of his mouth sometimes.

He’ll make shit up too like— my beautiful girlfriend who reminds me of cupcakes with extra sprinkles on top.

As for normal nicknames he’ll settle on calling you baby, love, sweets, or sweetheart in no specific order.

During sex it’s relatively the same but he won’t hesitate to call you a slut or his lil’ cocksleeve whenever he’s really into it.

Occasionally has a way with words that make you gush.

It’d be so random too— the way he’d just look at you one day and tell you something like, “Throughout the heavens and the earth, you alone are the only woman my heart yearns for.”

“You make my days brighter, love.”

“I love the way you laugh, it’s makes me feel like a teenager falling in love every time I hear it.”

“Even in the afterlife, it’s only you I’d ever search for.”

Finds the missing pieces of himself in you.

Gojo’s always struggled with self-identity considering how he’s always been good and anything and everything and how he’s the strongest but after meeting you, it was like he found meaning-, purpose even.

He’s never really had any imperfections so when he meets you, he finds an odd feeling of joy in his heart once he realizes you deem yourself to have a thousand imperfections despite him seeing you more perfect than himself.

Brings you up whenever he can.

Why wouldn’t he? You’re his partner and he loves you.

The conversation could be about the next curse to fight and he’s throwing your name out randomly and talking about how he can’t wait to get home to you.

Smiles at you whenever you’re not paying attention.

Things have always come so easy to him so when he sees that you actually put effort into different activities, he finds it so alluring. How could he possible take his eyes off you when you’ve got your brows furrowed slightly and you’re completely immersed into whatever you’re doing?

Especially if you’re doing something important like work— the way focus takes over your features and you’re immersed into whatever it is you’re doing, he finds it so unbelievably attractive.

Has a smart mouth no matter what.

You could tell him how handsome he looks and he’ll say something like “Oh yeah?” In that cocky tone of his, knowing damn well he’s got butterflies blooming in the pit of his stomach.

“Why are we arguing again?” Is something he’d blurt out mid-debate after you’ve been going back and forth about a specific topic for the past hour or so.

You can try to tell him what to do sometimes but most occasions, he’s scoffing out a, “And if I don’t?” With a brow raised and his arms crossed.

Could get off using a picture of you.

Gojo’s infatuated with you so all he has to do is pull up any picture of you on his phone while his hand is wrapped around his lengthy cock— precum dribbling out his tip at the mere thought of you beforehand.

It doesn’t take much jerking off to a simple picture of you for him to be making a mess all over himself, groaning out your name as if that’ll get you to appear in front of him somehow.

Participates in any and all ridiculous trends you want.

You wanna stack donuts on it? He just so happened to have ordered them already!

Wanna paint your nails the same color as his tip? How convenient, he knows the exact shade for you already.

Put a bow on his muscles just to watch him flex and rip the fabric? He’s got a blue ribbon ready for you to do so.

A/N: Not proofread so sorry if there’s any errors! Also, this is both in honor of my lovely Satoru returning to us and an anon req from a few anons!! <3

Also, thank you guys for 2k followers here, hello?!?! ^.^

[cheriladycl01]

First time - Lando Norris x Innocent! Reader

Plot: Lando finds out his girlfriend is more innocent than he ever thought and that turns him on hard core.

Warnings: SMUT Innocence Knik etc MINORS DNI 18+

Credit to princemick for the GIF

When Lando first started dating you he knew you were pretty innocent and oblivious to the world around you.

The first time he noticed it was when he first met you. You were in a club and he sat back watching you the whole night, run around like mother hen after your friends who ... arguably weren't being good friends to you and were using you as their sober ride home.

You were making sure your friends had clean drinks straight from the bartender and handing them tissues or hand gels when they touched anything dirty.

Your friends had left you that night, leaving Lando to take the opportunity to come and introduce himself. He wasn't shocked to find out this was your first time in a club, that you hated it and wanted to go home.

"So, what brings you to Monaco?" he'd asked you and you gave him this big gummy grin that he couldn't help but fall in love with.

"My friends and I are on a girls trip celebrating graduation!" you answered, trying not to yell incase the music went quiet but loud enough so he could hear.

"And that's why they've all abandoned you?" he chuckled walking you over to the bar.

"Yeah, I think they just have different ideas of fun than I do, we saw some really beautiful museums earlier which was my idea!" you smile thinking back to the earlier part of the day which you had favoured.

"Drink?" he asks you and you smile nodding your head.

"I'll have a Coors again and ..." he says naming his beer before looking at you.

"I'll just have a Spite please!" you order in French from the bartender who smiles at you.

"You can order something more expensive like alcohol i don't mind!" he smiles down at you, only for you to shake your head.

"I erm, don't drink! I've never drank alcohol actually!" you smile, pretty proud of you lifestyle.

"Yeah, I used to say I didn't drink and then my friends introduced me to it. Never been the same since!" he frowns in a joking manner making you laugh.

"You're funny!" you giggled.

You guys talked for the rest of the night, until it was the closing hours of the club and you had to part ways.

He'd regretted not getting your number.

The next time he met you was a complete coincidence. He was travelling around and caving in Vietnam. You were there building sustainable housing on your year after graduating. He knew it was you right away and everyone was so confused when he went running of to go say hello to you.

After that he got your number. He had to secure it after a second chance of meeting you which he'd been considering was gods gift to him.

After a few dates and texting back and forth for a while you started dating.

"Y/N, can we talk about something serious?" he'd asked you and you nodded coming to sit next to him on the sofa in his apartment.

"Yeah what's wrong?" you ask him with a frown thinking you'd done something wrong.

"How would you feel, about becoming my girlfriend..." he asks before presenting you with a little gift bag in papaya orange that had chocolates, flowers, a little card and a pair of expensive Cartier earrings. Not that you knew that until you got back to the hotel you were currently staying in and opened them up.

"Oh my! Yes! Please" you replied happily and he was trying so hard not to laugh at your super polite and formal answer to his ... well what now felt like a proposition

You were so happy and getting to spend time with Lando was everything! You came to races and everyone adored you, not just the people in McLaren with Lando but all the TV presenters, the fans and the other teams.

Lando was confused that after having dated for three months you hadn't done anything within a sexual nature. Not that it was an issue for him but he was just used to his girlfriends being bold and upfront compared to you, who was a little shyer and more reserved.

He knew he just needed to be a grown up and talk to you about it but he didn't think he could have this conversation with you. It felt wrong almost.

"Baby, can we talk?" Lando says patting the sofa while you were in the kitchen starting to prep for the lunch you were going to make the both of you.

"Yeah, what's wrong? Did I do something?" you ask looking at him carefully and taking a seat next to you.

"No, no not at all. It's kinda the opposite actually!" he laughs at his own joke not thinking you'd take notice of it.

"I haven't done something? I - did i forget to do my dished? I'm so sorry if i did!" you say looking back to the sink frantically thinking you'd missed your glass of orange juice and bowl of cereal you'd had this morning.

"No no, and don't think of it that way. I was just joking around - erm, I just wanted to say we've been dating for a while now and I was hoping we could start to be more intimate?" he asks holding your hand and your eyes widen and your cheeks redden.

"I- erm" you start to stutter and he rubs his thumb over your hand.

"We don't have too... if you don't want too! But I just wanted to ask!" he rushes out not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"It's just that ... I've never ever done anything like that!" you say looking at him with those innocent doe eyes that made him go crazy.

"Like never ever?" he asks in shock, you were a gorgeous girl and even when he was out with you, guys would always be coming up to you, making conversation and flirting with you.

Now that he thought about it, you never actually could tell when you were being lightly flirted with. You were very oblivious too all moves guys made, unless they were literally asking for you number.

"Mmmm no, I mean ... you know you're like my first boyfriend right?" you ask him, cocking your head to the side.

"Wait, you've never been with anyone else other than me?" he asks, and fights to keep the smirk off his face. There was something so dirty, about the fact that you were so pure and untouched, and that it turned him on that he would be the first, and hopefully last to show you everything he could.

"No" you whisper and he looks at you, before cupping your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

"Will you let me show you, everything I want to?" he asks looking at you, brushing some of your hair behind you so he has full view of your collarbone.

"Yes..." you breathe out, feeling flutters in your stomach at both his words and actions.

"Now?" he asks with a little gulp, hoping the answer would be a yes.

"Yes, show me now Lan!" you say, climbing onto his lap getting excited about the actions to come.

"Okay, baby. Lets slow down" he laughs holding you in place. He shifts about so he's comfortable and starts to run his hands over your body. Little goosebumps rise to the surface coating your arms as his fingers roam across your collarbone, down over your clothed boobs and down until he had a firm grip on your hips.

"As much as I like your wearing my shirt baby, I'm going to take it off you now, is that okay?" he asks looking you in the eyes and you nod, looking down a little intimidated by the intense eye-contact.

"Words baby, you gotta tell me" he smiles at you and you smile.

"Yes, you can"

And he does, he fingers brush against you and a groan comes out of his mouth as he see's what he's been missing out on seeing. Your perky tits were currently clad in an orange coloured bra. He didn't know if that was a normal colour for you or if you'd brought it since dating the McLaren driver.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he says looking at you, teasing against the straps of your bra before slowly pulling down each of them, before reaching round the back and unclasping it so it fell off you.

In reflex your hands came up, to cover your exposed chest, it wasn't something you were used too.

"I want to see and touch baby, please let me!" he says softly.

You felt comfortable and confident enough with Lando that you felt like you could show this part of yourself to him, a part that no-one apart from you had seen.

The moment was getting more and more intimate as his hands started to fondle your boobs, pinching squeezing and kneading. Lando learning what you liked from the noises you were making as he continued.

The more intimate it got, the hotter and more impatient you got with the new sensation in you stomach and the slickness and heat building between your legs.

Naturally, your body is craving friction. Your mind is going haywire not really knowing what to do to get the relief its craving. So your body automatically started to grind down on him, and you could feel just how excited he was getting with the large bulge building in his sweatpants.

You could tell it was something he liked too from the little whines and groans that came out overtime pressure was applied.

"I- I want to make you feel good. But I don't know how" you offer and he nods.

"Do you want me to show you?" he asks and you nod. He takes your hand and starts to help you palm him through his joggers, breathy moans coming from him.

"That's it, and when your ready you can take them off" he breathes out softly, not wanting to rush you into anything.

You take him out of his jogger, having a grip on him that was tight and he couldn't help but moan at the sensation.

"That's it baby. Now just run your hand up and down in a fisting motion!" he says, but you make no move to start, his head that was thrown back raises to look at you in question.

"Can you show me?" you ask, wide eyes and he nods, taking your hand that was around him in his as he helps you start to move up and down, showing the pace and grip that he liked. His moans were constantly flowing out now as he let go to grip the edges of the sofa and lean back. You started to go a little faster, before slowly right down and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I heard... from friends that you really like when we use our mouths?" you ask and look at him.

"You dont have to if you don't want to" he groans.

"I- will you enjoy it?" you ask.

"I think i'd enjoy anything you did to me"

"Then i want to do it" you nod and he sits up a little more.

"Okay, get on your knees baby..." he directs and you get to the floor in between his legs.

"You want my help?" he asks and you nod, he takes your hair into a ponytail to keep it out your face.

"Okay, open baby. Remember no teeth baby, it hurts!" he smiles and you start by what you thinks right and go straight in. You gag a little and he pulls you head back from the grip.

"No need to rush hunny. Just start with the head, and then you'll feel a vein on the underside that always feels good, okay? But don't rush to fill your mouth up okay?" he chuckles a little bit as he watches you listen to him.

You start with small movements around his tip, moving your tongue over his slit where pre-cum is leaking out. It was a strange taste that the first few times had your eyes screwing but you slowly got used to it.

You run your tongue along the underside feeling the throbbing vein he was talking about and he went crazy, moaning above you and desperately trying not to thrust up.

You slowly take more and more in your mouth and what you cant fit you decide to use your hands to cover the rest and use the movements you were doing earlier.

"Holy fuck! Are you sure you havent done this before baby?" he asks in shock of how good it feels. Maybe it was just because he was so in love with you that it felt 10x better than he ever had, or maybe you were just a quick learner and good at observing what he liked.

A minute later and he was coming into your mouth, you were quick to swallow all of him and leave his dick with a string of saliva attaching you together.

"Fucking hell baby" he smiles pulling you up onto his lap resting you on top of him, your knees either side of him.

"Was that good?" you ask, shyly. He can only nod as he catches his breathing.

"Your turn!" he smirks, one had on your hip the other one inching up your inner thigh under the skirt you were in. His hands starts to rub your clit through your underwear, and he smiles as your head falls into the crook of his neck and he can feel your breathing pick up against him.

His fingers curl round the edge of your panties pulling them to one side rubbing his fingers through your wet folds.

"Is this all for me baby!" he asks using his free hand to run through your hair as you keep your head in the crook of his neck rocking against his movements. His fingers eventually find there way in, the stretch a little painful at first.

"It's okay, it'll start to feel good in a minute" he says rubbing your back comfortingly.

"Tell me if i should stop yeah?" he asks and you just nod before quickly shaking your head, realising that may have come across as you want him to stop when you really don't now that a coil is building in your stomach and his fingers are feeling incredible inside you.

"Lando!" you whine starting to kiss along his neck and jaw, needing to occupy yourself with something to focus on the growing feeling inside you.

"Fuck baby, the things you do to me!" he exclaims feeling himself get hard again from the whole intimate situation occurring.

In seconds you're letting that coil go, not being able to hold it in any longer and gushing over his fingers. He pulls them out, taking them into his mouth, licking them clean groaning at the taste of you, his gorgeous girlfriend.

"I gotta have a taste of you baby!" he practically whimpers out, before laying you on the sofa and spreading your legs open. You shyly try to shut them but he just tuts.

"Lemme baby please!" he says softly and he stop resisting against his hands. He dives in, nipping and licking at the parts he knows are most sensitive, before devouring you as if your a five course meal. It felt incredible, better than his hands and you legs were shaking the whole time.

Your mind was fuzzy and you could only let out little swear words and his name to let him know just how good he was making you feel.

And only minutes later and you were releasing into his awaiting mouth where he fully cleaned you up. He draw back, a small sheen on his nose and corners of his mouth from your release that had you blushing.

"Lets finish this in the bedroom yeah?" he asks and you nod eagerly as he picks you up tossing your over his shoulder, giving your arse a light tap on the way out that had you giggling and squealing.

He places you gently on the bed hovering over you. He starts to take the rest of the clothing that was left on you off and chucking it to the floor before he starts to take his own off. He reaches into the bedside draw, grabbing a condom and opening it with his teeth before rolling it on.

"You are so beautiful baby! Are you ready?" he smiles, now lining himself up with your entrance. You hesitate for a split second, before remembering its your incredibly kind and beautiful and caring boyfriend Lando above you right now who wouldn't dream of hurting you.

"Yes" you nod, and he slowly starts to push himself into your warm, wet caverns. He moans at the tight feeling of you, kissing across your neck and collarbone trying to help you un-tense a little.

"Baby, you gotta relax" he guides you, starting to play with your boobs to get you feeling good. He pushes in a little more when he feels that you arent tensing as much and you sigh.

"Woah, your so big!" you exclaim, thinking he'd bottomed out from the stretch as you try regain your breath.

"Baby... hate to break it to you but I'm only halfway inside you" he laughs with a chuckle, nearly loosing his balance on his forearms that he is using to hold himself steady above you.

"What?" you ask opening your eyes too look at your laughing boyfriend.

"Thank you for the compliment though baby, that makes me feel really good about myself" he says honesty before he pushes the full way in, finally bottoming out. You wiggle a little trying to get comfortable before giving him a nod where he starts to move in and out of you.

It starts to progressively feel better and better to the point where you can start meeting his thrusts to make it a little quicker. The sounds in the room are anything but innocent, both of your breathy moans and your high pitched whines when he reaches in between you to rub circles on your clit and the sound of slapping skin.

"Lando fuck! I love you" you cry as the pressure builds up and up.

"I fucking love you too" he breathes out, his thrusts coming a little sloppier.

And soon your both releasing at the same time as he pulls you in closer to him, almost laying all his weight on you.

"I'm like so glad we had that talk!" Lando laughs pulling himself up to look at you.

"Me too, I cant wait for you to show me more!" you grin pulling him into a kiss making him groan and grab the pillow to put over his face. He was exhausted but ... round 2 sounded like a shout.

Taglist:

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[freyito]

ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ꜝ ⨟ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: this is fun to think about

✧ a/n: for those who don't know exactly what this means (also shoutout to freya the god of love), there are 3-5 'types' of (romantic) love. eros, romantic love, ludus, playful love, pragma, enduring love, and then there's mania which is obsessive love and agape which is universal love. The last two can sorta bend in a familiar or platonic way as well as romantic.

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

✎ wc: 3.3k

⎯ Aventurine

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Aventurine prefers to flirt, to have fun, be a little silly with his love. After all, life’s too short to not enjoy it. He wants a partner who will not only put up with his games but also join in and enjoy it, someone to tease who will tease back. He would love a deeper connection as well, but before that comes fun.

“Honey, I’m hooome~!” Aventurine calls from the apartment door, making his way to the kitchen. You weren’t cooking anything, simply sifting through the fridge for a snack. His arms wrap around your waist as the scent of his near overbearing cologne washes over you. He presses his lips to your neck and peppers it with a bunch of fleeting kisses, mumbling about his day into your skin even though you didn’t ask. When you dared to try and pull away, he only pulls you closer, pinching at your waist and grinning. “Awhhh, are you not happy to see me?”

He doesn’t give you time to reply, hauling you up and turning on his heels. You don’t get to complain, not before he practically throws you on the bed and throws himself onto you. He wastes no time finding your most ticklish spots, waiting for you to ask for mercy. “I want a proper welcome home!” He exclaims, like you hadn't given him enough attention. Not like you can do what he wants while you do your best not to laugh, squirming underneath him, trying to break free from his tickle attack.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Ratio isn’t necessarily the best at showing his affection, he is head over heels for you. Absolutely and irrevocably in love, and it only grows with each passing day. He’s quite the gentleman when you get past his cold demeanor, and is quite by-the-book.

You had met him in his classroom after his classes, to give him the lunch you had made him. He regards you with a brisk ‘mh’, You are used to this reaction, and you don’t take it to heart. He tells you he’ll be home a little later, and apologizes. Silence stretches between you two before you tell him it’s alright and start to leave the room.

“I am sorry, my love,” He grabs your wrist before you can fully turn around. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyes locked on yours as he apologizes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Dinner tomorrow.” He’s so blunt with it, like you have no choice. But he says it with such sincerity, an emotion that is hard to get from him. His eyes linger with yours as you nod, before letting you go and returning to grading his student’s papers.

⎯ Boothill

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Boothill loves with his whole heart, but he just can’t take it seriously. He’s always teasing you, whether it be sultry words, little touches, anything. He loves making you blush.

Tonight, you two are at some bar he had dragged you to, and it’s quite lively. Which gives Boothill ample time to show you off, his arm around your shoulders or your waist whenever someone comes up to talk to you or him. He leans in ever so closer with that toothy grin, eyes half-lidded as he whispers something about how cute you look tonight. When he sees even the tiniest blush begin to bloom, he amps up his flirting tenfold.

Over the entire night, he makes little comments that turn into big flourishes of his love for you, small, teasing touches that trail from your shoulder down to your hands, interlocking your fingers. He leans in close and whispers against your ear, not necessarily just flirts, literally anything he can think of, like that you guys need to put soda on the grocery list or something. It’s the way his breath fans over your ear that causes goosebumps to riddle skin. You try and hide your blushing face, but he grabs your chin and tilts your head to meet his gaze, using his hat to shield your faces from the rest of the patrons and pressing a kiss to your lips.

⎯ Gallagher

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. While Gallagher may not sound like it, he’s romantic by heart and looks for a partner he can spend his life with. He wants to settle down, enjoy something that lasts. And he prefers a partner that does the same.

He was lounging on the couch at home, a rare sight normally. When you walked into the living room, he greeted you with a lazy smile, reaching for you like he wasn’t a 30 something year old man. He grabbed your wrist and guided you into his arms with a yawn, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. He lets out a deep, rumbling ‘mmm’ as he does so, sharing no other words.

Any time you try to break free from his hold, whether you wanna eat or need to go to the bathroom, he groans. He doesn’t say much, whispering quiet ‘love yous’ here and there, and if you really do have to get up, he practically follows you around. He’s rarely ever clingy, he’s probably one of the most independent people you know. He’s only like this when he has something on his mind, and marriage isn’t exactly a far off thought…

⎯ Sunday

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Sunday is a textbook romantic. A dinner and a movie, roses, have you home by ten, he’s the whole package. Anything you could want, you will have. There’s always a fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase in your living room, and perhaps a new poem for/about you every month.

Whatever he gave you in reality, he gave you tenfold in the Dreamscape (especially since he can). This includes his affection, where you two are hidden away… somewhere in Dewlight Pavillion. Somewhere where Sunday promises no one will find you two. It’s not as if you two are doing something lewd, he’s nestled up against your chest, that’s about it. But, he’s been yearning for some time alone with you since forever. With how busy he has been, he hadn’t got a moment alone with you.

“I missed you.” He states. His work is secondary to this moment, as he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm, before nuzzling his cheek into it, all the while his eyes stay on yours. He has you flustered by the way he does it so desperately, yet so… carefully. He needed this, but he didn’t want to allow himself to lose his composure. So, the best he could do was steal you away when you were bringing him his mail, leave you breathless with a few tender kisses and gentle touches, and lead you back to your way out of the Pavillion.

⎯ Argenti

AGAPE ; UNIVERSAL LOVE. Love, devotion, and worship go hand in hand in hand for Argenti. He loves with his heart, body, mind, and soul. He loves unconditionally, every little bit of you, even the ground you walk on. Where the water wet your skin, where the dirt kissed your hands, he loves and loves and loves.

You two are dancing in your kitchen, to a soundless beat. The only rhythm coming from your barely-heard footsteps and the clank of Argenti’s armor as he shares such a moment with you. It is rare that he is home, always out on some adventure across star systems, but it is always a celebration when he is. Atleast, he makes it a celebration. Laughter fills the room as you try your best to keep up with his steps, the man elegant and flawless, as usual, while you stumble just a tick behind.

“You’ve got it, I know you do.” Argenti coos as you do your best to fall into his steps, still stumbling every so often. He dips you down, eyes searching yours with that content smile plastered on his face, before he pulls you up and chest-to-chest with him. His eyes sparkle with mirth, spinning you two around as if your kitchen was a real and proper ballroom, swaying gently. His eyes closed then, humming some tune, a song lost to time that only he remembered. He had hummed it on your longest days and on your darkness nights, the days you weeped and sobbed in his arms, and the days you had turned to him with such a bright smile. A tune that resembled something homely.

⎯Sampo Koski

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. While Sampo can be quite the romantic, he prefers to tease and play with you instead. Sure, he could dance with you all night long, bring you fresh roses everyday, but where’s the fun in that? He finds it much more fitting to flirt with you on end, brag a little about his ‘sales’, splurge a little for you every now and then.

You walk into your bedroom to find Sampo laying on his side, his head propped up with his hand, a rose in his mouth. He gives you a mock-sultry glare while you stand there, dumbfounded, halfway between disgust and laughter. Rose petals decorate the bed, and the room, and you tell yourself that you’ll have to remind him later that he’ll be cleaning it up.

For now, though, he beckons you closer, and when you do, he pulls you onto the bed quickly, spitting out the rose, and peppering your face with kisses. The room fills with laughter as you do your best to break away, but he continues this torrent of kisses, rarely taking a breath. When you complain that ‘it’s too much!’ he only ups the ante, kissing your neck, your shoulder, any exposed skin he can find. You simply just have to accept your fate, now…

⎯ Jing Yuan

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. He who has waited for an eternity yearns for an eternity spent in one’s arms. Jing Yuan has lost most of those dear to him, if not all. While he knows life will reach its end, he cannot help but wish he had someone to spend the rest of it with.

It is very rare for Jing Yuan to be free for even an hour, and yet here he was, a whole day to himself. He’s lounging in his room, basking in the sun while you lay in his arms, reading a book. You two barely share any words, yet the silence between says it all. It’s a comfortable feeling, something that feels like home, something he cherishes every second of. It’s one thing to find home within the Xianzhou, but it’s another to find home in someone’s arms.

He tilts his head as he looks down at the book your reading, contemplating if he wanted to pull your attention away from the book, or not. With a soft ‘hmph’, he makes his decision to leave you alone, choosing to nuzzle into your hair instead. You don’t react, which he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as he closes his eyes. Perhaps an afternoon nap would do him some good…

⎯ Blade

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Not even death could keep Blade away from you. His own suicidal tendencies, his never-ending want to die, his need to die, his own voice begging for a means to an end, it all washes away when he sees your smile, as if the sun is greeting him once more after such a wretched eclipse.

He knows he has loved in the past, and yet when he recalls that feeling, Blade is only met with a burning feeling akin to rage clawing its way through his chest. He prefers to not think about it much, focusing on Elio’s script and whatever mission he’s been dispatched on. Yet, when he’s met with you laying in his bed, messing with his phone, waiting for him, a different kind of feeling weaves its way into his heart. Something warm, a kindling, of sorts.

His own voice quiets when he allows himself to feel that feeling, peace, perhaps? He’s quick to brush it off, shove it down along with any other emotion that was daring to well up, and takes a seat next to you. When you look up and beckon him closer, he doesn’t accept. But, he does lean in, and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. It’s a rare display, you can’t remember the last time he even dared to hold your hand. And before you can question him, he’s gone, out of the room, leaving his phone behind, like always.

⎯ Luocha

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Luocha is quite the romantic when he wants to be. Since he spends most of his time wandering, he doesn’t get to see you very often. But when he returns home, he loves nothing more than to share stories of his travels and hold you in his arms. You are his anchor, what brings him back to reality when his thoughts drift to the distant churches and candle wicks that give way to angry flames…

He finds you sleeping on the couch, phone in hand, twitching every now and then, but making no real reaction to any sound. It was clear that you were waiting for Luocha to come home, and had succumbed to sleep. Luocha had texted you 4 days ago that he would be home, and you yourself had no idea how long you had been up, the past couple of days had skewed your perception of time. By now, it was around 3:00 am.

With a soft huff and an even softer gaze, Luocha scoops you up into his arms and carries you to your shared bed. He’s careful, doing his best to be as quiet as possible as he carries you, but you still wake up. You mutter a slurred ‘Luocha?’, and all he does is shush you, shaking his head and greeting you with a warm smile. You don’t get time to protest as he lays you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. He will join you later, as much as he wants to lay beside you now, he’d like to get settled back in, first.

⎯ Dan Heng

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Dan Heng tends to retreat into himself, a lot. Ever since he revisited the Xianzhou, this has become a habit of his. He doesn’t exactly push you away, but his ‘time to think’ seems to overtake your guys’ alone time. Regardless of it all, he always comes back to you, finding home safe in your arms.

He wakes in the dead of night, his past life’s memories catching up to him once more. He doesn’t cry or scream, his breath is shallow, as he listens to the silence of the hotel you two were staying at. He stills for a moment, the scars of the past fading into a blissful nothingness, before he looks down at you. Sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered by Dan Heng’s sudden awakening.

His body relaxes as his mind quiets finally, the simple sight of you reminding him that the past is the past, and nothing more matters right now. He settles back into bed, taking a moment to admire your face, hesitantly reaching out. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing to your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. You don’t even flinch, but you instinctively curl up closer to him. Dan Heng graces your sleeping form with a rare smile and a huff, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

⎯ Gepard

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Gepard may be shy about certain things, that doesn’t mean he is lacking in the romance department. His job may keep him away from you for quite a while, but he always finds his way back to you.

It had been quite a while since you and Gepard had a proper date, or even night out. Oftentimes, he’d come home late into the night, too exhausted to even eat, and all he would want to do is cuddle up next to you in bed. He loves his job, he truly does, even if it means coming home at near 2 am and waking up at 5 am. Of course he wants to spend as much time with you, but some days are harder than others, and he wants to stay as healthy as he can.

Tonight, however, he’s come home early. At 6 pm to be exact. A completely normal time to get off work… if he wasn’t the captain of the Silvermane Guards. Before you can even ask why he’s home so early, he hurriedly asks you out on a date. His face is only slightly flushed, and the minute you say yes, he lights up like the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. He takes you out to one of the nicest, fanciest restaurants in Belobog, and he just cannot contain the giddy smile all throughout the night. He stares at you as if you are straight out of a movie, eyes practically shining everytime you laugh.

⎯ Caelus

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Caelus doesn’t take himself too seriously, even if there’s a stellaron housed inside of him. So why take love too seriously…? Not that he doesn’t love you, no, he adores you. But between all this trailblazing and saving planets and researching stellarons and what not, he doesn’t get much of a chance to be a little silly. And you, luckily, are his escape from that.

He barges into your room with the brightest smile known to man, his hair a little messy, and what you can only hope is soot dusting his cheeks and hands. Caelus looks so proud. Too proud. In his hands he holds what looks to be a worn out raccoon plushie, also blessed with a heavy dusting of soot. You stare at him blankly as he does not explain himself, simply waltzing over to your bed.

“Our son.” He states, so proudly, as if he had brought the thing into the world on his own. Desperately in need of some fun today, you play along, telling him ‘our son needs a bath.’ And Caelus looks at you as if you have offended his entire lineage (which, apparently, is two people now.) He jokingly chastises you for calling your son ‘dirty’, and “How could you say that to him!?” “He’s just a baby!”. Though, eventually after hours and hours of him threatening to put his sooty hands all over you, he washes the stuffed raccoon. And himself.

⎯ Welt

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Welt has seen lifetimes pass, and lifetimes more come into the universe. He’s vowed to himself to love whoever comes into his life as long as he loves, to love hard and never back down. He dreams of church bells ringing while the scent of roses fill the air, rather than the mournful gong of those ringing bells, signaling someone's end, or the bittersweet smell of lilies.

He holds you closely tonight, practically bathing in your cologne, eyes closed as he hums a tune from some far off timeline. It is a quiet, tender moment, one that is very rare between the two of you. Welt could spend all his time on the Astral Express and still never have enough time for you. He is greedy in that way, seeking any time he can with you, even if it is only for 5 minutes.

He himself doesn’t know why he’s feel especially wanting tonight, but he doesn’t busy his mind asking himself why. Time and space is infinite even as constricting as it feels, and he knows better than to keep himself occupied with such silly questions. The day he catches himself not missing you, yearning for you, is the day that he will wither into stardust.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[uranometrias]

nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid

just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.

this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)

"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.

"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.

not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.

the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.

you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.

"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.

"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.

"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.

"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.

"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.

"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.

you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.

he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.

"do you think that's what this is about?"

"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.

"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."

spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.

"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.

"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.

you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.

"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.

"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.

"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."

you don't think you've ever loved him more.

"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.

"no, i guess not." you disagree.

"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."

"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.

"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.

"you think so?"

"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.

"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.

"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.

"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.

you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.

he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.

"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.

"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.

"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.

"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.

"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.

"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.

"you don't know everything."

"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.

"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.

spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.

maybe do a bit more than kiss.

"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.

"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"

"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."

"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.

"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."

spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.

even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.

"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."

you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.

"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.

"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.

"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.

"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.

"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.

you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.

"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.

"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.

"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.

"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.

"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"

"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.

"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.

"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.

"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.

"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.

"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.

"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.

"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.

"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.

"yeah?"

"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.

"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.

"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.

god, you hate him.

"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.

"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.

"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.

"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.

"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."

"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.

your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.

"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.

"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.

"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.

"we'll see." he retorts.

god, you love him.

[erwinsvow]

what if… rafe ever hit shy reader from built up anger like more of an accident? we lowk need some rafe and shy reader angst😢

this kind of slayed me.. i feel like disclosure i do not condone abuse of any sort i just think shy reader would like getting slapped around and being really roughhoused..

but if rafe reallyyy got mad about it, it might be angsty. like if she really messed up and was apologizing a ton if he actually was mad at her her heart would stop. warning rafe is rlly mean in this

being a little whiney, a little too needy and maybe excessively touchy came easily to you as rafe's girlfriend. he was always coaxing you into being more comfortable with him, and you think you'd finally reached that point.

some of your shyer tendencies seemed to have finally abandoned you when it was just the two of you. and just like you had guessed, a smaller, more possessive side of you had recently emerged from the cocoon—wanting all of rafe's attention, all the time.

it wasn't good, maybe a small part of you knew that, but it was easy to play into it, and you liked how you felt these days, more comfortable in your skin and around rafe than you had been even just a month ago.

like today. you had been a little needy all day, not wanting rafe to leave when he said he needed to go to barry's for picking something up.

"ple-ease rafe," you said it a little singsongy, serious but not that serious. "don't go. i want you to stay." it was more just wanting to hang out with him than anything else—when he left, he was usually gone for ages, and things weren't that fun without him.

"i'll be back, kid. jus' stay here, got it?"

"but you said you would-"

"kid." the way he says it, you should have realized he wasn't in the mood for you to be behaving like this.

"yesterday you said you were free all day. and i get bored-"

"yesterday i didn't know i was doin' this shit. just, please. sit tight. i'll be back."

rafe goes, and though a part of you knows you shouldn't, you blow up his phone throughout the day. really, you're not even that bored—showering and getting ready for the day and then curling up with your book after you make rafe's bed, but you played a little too far into it.

when he comes back, you should have realized something was off—but you let everything else cloud your judgement. the way rafe is never mean to you (despite the stories you had heard), how he always reassures you that he's not mad and that you didn't do anything wrong. you were led to a false belief that nothing you could do would change how rafe acts towards you.

rafe comes to sit on the bed near your feet, and you lower your book to look at him, but don't say anything. when he turns to look at you, you bring the book back up so it looks like you weren't peeking.

"c'mon. y'mad now?"

"no."

"kid, i don't have time for this-"

"you didn't answer any of my texts! or calls. and i've just been waiting here all day-" you don't know what you want—attention, quality time, an apology. you just want something other than what you're getting.

"i told you i'd be back. had shit to take care of-"

"well, i just-"

"why're you actin' like this? huh?"

you think rafe's gonna ask you the things he always does—what's wrong? did someone say something? do i need go have a talk with 'em?

but he doesn't this time.

"spoiled your ass too much and now you wanna talk back? is that it?" you're so taken aback, you think all the air has left your lungs. did rafe really think that? he stands up, so you do too, facing rafe while he paces.

"no, i just-" you're being defensive, like always. you feel like crying—you thought rafe knew you better than that, but it's also not his fault. maybe you were acting too spoiled after all, and maybe despite what he always says, he preferred you how you were when you first started dating him.

"you think m'goin out there to paint nails and gossip with barry? we had shit to do. real shit, so i can take care of you. i thought you understood that."

when you start crying, you think rafe will stop—he always does, stopping to apologize and make sure you're okay.

"tears. great. i'm tryna explain this to you. are you gonna cry everytime i get serious? huh?" it comes out a little more like a bark than a sentence—now you're scared.

"i-i'm sorry," you get out, though it's strangled in a sob and sounds more like a whisper. you don't think he heard you, but your feelings are so hurt—the rush from thinking rafe would be happy to be back home with you crashing and burning quickly, the pit in your stomach that doesn't blame him—but rather blames yourself for your behavior.

you had gotten too comfortable, too pampered, thinking that acting like this was okay—briefly you think it's not rafe's fault at all for getting mad, that it's your own fault for this happening.

you think it's best if you leave, dejectedly heading towards the door, but the second he catches you trying to walk away, he rushes over, pushing you against the door before you can even open it. your back thuds against the frame.

"rafe, you're hurting me-" you cry out, but he seems to be lost in his own anger. "please-"

"didn't say you can leave. what the hell are you doin'? you tryin' to make me mad? huh?"

"rafe, m'sorry, i-"

"actin' like this 'cause you wanna get slapped around? is that it? y'like that too much, don't you? you want me to slap you around now?"

your heart feels like it's just stopped beating. the very idea that rafe would bring up something you had just gotten comfortable with liking, only recently convinced yourself—with his help—that it wasn't wrong or dirty to like those kinds of things with him—slapping and spanking and a whole host of other things you had never even talked about, much less actually done, with anyone other than rafe, in this situation, made fat tears slip down your cheeks.

your boyfriend didn't seem like himself right now. and you were so distraught, if you were a little more clear-headed you might realize his bloodshot, dilated eyes and shaky hands. your arm hurts from where he's holding you tightly.

"rafe, please-" you get out through tears, and he lets you go a little. you slide out of his grip and stay against the door, still crying. before you can even think about it, your cheek is stinging.

he does slap you—not in the light, playful way he does when it's just the two of you somewhere or in the slightly rougher manner reserved for bed—this one is harder, everything hurting.

after it happens, you look up at rafe through glassy eyes. your fingers go to your cheek, pressing down where it was painful, like it would help it go away. but you knew deep down nothing could ever erase this memory.

you look up at rafe and he looks down at you. when you try to turn to open the door, he presses down and slams it shut before you can get out.

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part three

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

You haven’t done anything useful today. After last night, you really don’t know what to do. Should you talk about this with Lando or let it be? You have no idea. At this moment he isn’t home, you heard him leave pretty early this morning. Maybe he’s ignoring you? It feels like he is. There’s this part of you that understands him ignoring you. What would you do if you moaned out Lando his name and he heard? This has to be pretty awkward for him. 

You still can’t decide if you want to talk about it with Lando or not. It annoys you that you can’t think about anything else then Lando. And the worst part? Every time you think about him moaning out your name, you feel yourself getting flustered. That can’t be good. You can’t feel like this while thinking about Lando. It’ll make things only more confusing. 

Since you have met Lando, you think he’s a very confusing person. It’s mainly because he always seems to be in a different mood when he’s around you. Whenever you see Lando, you don’t know in which mood he will be. Sometimes he’s acting nicely, but other times he’s making you crazy with his teasing and rude remarks, and then you still have the moments when he’s flirting with you. It’s confusing. Lando is confusing. 

Thinking like this makes you remember earlier meetings between Lando and you. With nothing better to do, you let yourself think back about things that happened between the two of you. 

——-

“Lando, meet my sister y/n!” Max introduces you to a nice looking boy who’s standing closely to your brother, “and y/n, meet Lando Norris. He drives for McLaren and is one of my friends.” You take your time to look at Lando. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is. You try to shake off those thoughts, thinking about your boyfriend instead of the good looking boy in front of you. 

Lando is taking his time with looking at you as well. It isn’t the first time he sees you. Or at least, it’s the first time he sees you in real life and will talk to you. He never told his friend, Max, about the way he stalks your Instagram almost every day and how he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he has ever seen. 

He gives you a hand to introduce himself as well, you show him a small smile. The two of you make a bit of small talk. You slowly start to like Lando, he’s nice. You can understand why Max is friends with him, you hope you can become friends with him. It’s your phone which interrupts your conversation with Max and Lando. When you look at the screen, you notice it’s your boyfriend who’s calling. 

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my boyfriend,” you apologize before picking up the phone and walking away from Lando and Max. 

“Boyfriend?” Lando asks disappointed when he looks at you walking away. That wasn’t on your Instagram. It’s at that moment that Max starts to suspect that Lando already knew who you were and that he’s interested in getting to know you more.

+++

The following time Lando and you talk to each other, things are less nice. He’s spending time with your brother, playing some game on the playstation. You came home a bit ago, it was a harsh afternoon for you. After doubting for multiple weeks, you decided to break things off with your boyfriend. It wasn’t a nice breakup. Things got messy when your now ex-boyfriend started screaming at you. 

You greet Lando and Max, but you’re quickly interrupted by your phone once again. It’s your ex. He has already send you a couple messages and is now calling you. You’re quick to deny the call. 

“Boyfriend again?” Lando asks you jokingly.

You know that he couldn’t know what happened earlier today, but you can’t help yourself and sneer at him. “Ex,” you sneer. Max wants to ask you a thousand questions, but Lando is the first one who speaks up again. 

“Good.”

That didn’t make your mood better.

+++

Lando and you don’t click. Every time you’re in the same room with him, he seems to act all awkward or weird. Sometimes he teases you, other times he seems to shy to say anything. When you walk inside the living room, you notice him and Max looking at you. 

He can’t look away from you. Fuck, Lando thinks he’s going to lose it. You’re dressed in a tight fitting nude dress. It looks stunning on you. He wants to know where you’re going dressed like this, and even better he would want you to stay right here so no-one else will see you like this. Since you’re single, he’s trying to find a way to ask you on a date but he hasn’t succeeded yet. Sometimes he doesn’t know what to say and acts all shy, while other times he can joke around with you for a bit but can’t come to his point. It’s the worst. 

“Where are you going?” Max asks you before Lando finds his tongue back. 

“I’m going on a date,” you tell Max. 

Lando doesn’t even realize that he’s speaking up what he’s thinking. “Already?” He asks confused, “It’s not even a month since you broke up with your boyfriend.” Fuck, when he realizes that he actually said those words he’s quick to feel ashamed of himself. Before he can apologize to you, you’re already replying. 

“Are you implying something Norris?” You ask him angrily.  Lando tries to deny it, but you’re quick to walk away from your brother and him. When they hear the door slam, Max sends his friend an confused look. 

That day Lando can’t stop thinking about you being on a date with someone. He wants to forget about it, but the alcohol doesn’t do anything. Standing in a club with some friends, his mind is still hang up on you. How would you date go? He was so glad about you being single, but it seems that it will be over soon. 

Later that night, with even more alcohol in his system, Lando dances with a nice looking girl. He drinks until he can’t walk straight anymore and takes the girl home with him. Is it bad that he can’t even remember her name? He can think about one thing only. Even when he’s balls deep into the girl, he can only think about you. Or more specifically, you in the tight nude dress. He’s fucked. 

+++

When he tells Max about the girl and the way he send her home after the sex, he didn’t knew you were listening as well. Before Max can respond, you’re picking an argument with Lando about the way he treated the girl. 

The following hours Lando realizes that he has fucked up things too many times around you. He should forget about you. It’s not like he has any chances left. Since that day Lando fell in some weird pattern of getting drunk whenever he could and fucking some random girls as a distraction from his feelings for you. Not that it helps. Whenever he sees you, he always feels ashamed about himself and his actions. Not that you know everything about it, but still. He doesn’t know how to behave around you. Sometimes he tries flirting with you, other times he tries to keep his distance. The worst times are when he argues with you. 

It’s not like you know about his feelings and why he’s acting like this. For you everything is just confusing and weird. 

——-

Mindlessly you’re swiping on Tinder. Since you’re still not doing much, you decided to swipe a bit on the app. You could use a date, it’s been a while since your last one. Not that you will be successful on Tinder, since everyone is accusing you of being a catfish or is sending dick picks within seconds after the match. You really should find another way to find dates. When you hear a soft knock on your door, you feel confused. Could it be that you didn’t notice Lando coming back home? 

You stand up and open the door. Apparently you really did miss Lando getting back. He’s standing in front of you. It takes you back to the dilemma you’re still having. Confront Lando or not about what happened? 

“Do you want to have dinner together?” Lando asks you. He almost seems nervous, but you guess that you’re imagining that. 

“That’s fine,” you tell Lando, now you think about it - you could eat something. You’re getting kinda hungry. “Should I cook?” You continue to ask. 

“No,” Lando quickly replies, “I’m going to cook.”

“Can you?” You ask surprised. You can lie about it, but your socials are often filled with content about Lando. Lately it has even been worse. TikTok has shown you multiple ‘thirst’ edits about him, which made you feel things you don’t even want to think about. And if it isn’t content like that, there’s also the videos of his streams, interviews and video’s. And those are exactly why you don’t think it’s smart for Lando to cook. 

“I don’t know,” Lando confesses with a soft laugh, “but how hard can it be to make a pasta?”

“I can help you if you want?” You offer. 

“That sounds like a safe thing to do,” Lando jokes.

Together you walk to the kitchen with Lando. He proudly shows you everything he has bought from the grocery story. Confused you look at all the stuff. You can’t even guess which pasta you’re about to make. There are so much groceries. He even has multiple sorts of pasta laying on the counter. 

“How many people are eating here?” You ask Lando confused. 

“Just us,” Lando informs you. 

“So, you bough four different pasta shapes, every vegetable that there is and three kinds of grated cheese for just the two of us?” You continue to ask.

“I didn’t know which one you liked,” Lando confesses.

“You could have called?” You laugh. 

Lando doesn’t respond anymore. He makes you chose which pasta you want to make with him. After choosing you ask Lando to chop up some onions. Something he clearly struggles with. you’re trying to hold back your laugh, but when Lando almost cuts in his own finger, you let out a loud laugh. Lando is quick to join you. Together you continue cooking. This time you don’t ask Lando to do anything else. Meaning he’s just looking at you while you’re cooking. Lando can’t stop staring at you. He can’t hold back his feelings when he looks at you finding your own way in his apartment. How nice would it be if you were always here? If this would be your home as well? 

When the two of you are eating together a bit later, Lando is showering you in compliments about the pasta. Eventually he even lets out a soft moan while taking a bite of the food. It reminds you of last night. Only thinking about the way Lando moaned your name, makes you feel all kind of things. Fuck. That can’t be good. Lando also thinks about last night, he still feels ashamed about what happened. He wants to apologize for what happened, but he can’t find the right words.

“So, are you already getting used to the apartment?” Lando asks you eventually. It’s not the subject he wanted to speak up about, but maybe he can talk about this first with you? It would be nice to have a normal conversation with you. 

“Kinda,” you answer honestly, “It doesn’t feel like home, but it’s not bad.” Lando nods understandingly in the mean time. “A good night sleep will probably be nice as well,” you add jokingly. 

“Yeah, about that,” Lando starts unsure, “I’m sorry about the last two nights.”

“It’s still your home Lando,” you tell him, “It’s already nice of you that I can stay here, you don’t have to change everything for me.”

“Still,” Lando sighs, “I’ll try to better it, okay?”

“That sounds nice,” you softly say. 

Lando shows you a small smile. “And I want you to feel more at home here,” he continues to tell you, “Does it already feels a bit like home for you?” 

“Not yet,” you confess, “I miss the way my own room looks and the decor stuff and things.”

“You know you can decorate it here as well, right? I really don’t mind if you change some things around the place,” Lando tells you.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You ask surprised.

“No babygirl,” Lando is quick to reply, “I wouldn’t even care if you painted the whole living room pink if that would make you feel more at home.”

At that moment you didn’t really think about what Lando said, but later his words would repeat themselves in your head. Does he really care that much about you feeling at home here?

+++

“Lando?” 

He doesn’t hear you. There isn’t any response coming from the other side of the door. You don’t know what is happening in Lando his room. You only know that he’s alone and that you heard him scream. What’s going on? You knock loudly on his door, but there’s still no response. When you call out his name again, it doesn’t change. You do however hear him yell again. It’s loud and almost feels painful. 

You decide to open the door and to get inside. What if Lando is hurt? When you open the door, Lando is laying in his bed. He doesn’t move up. It seems like he’s asleep. His breathing is loud and fast, maybe even too fast? You wonder if he’s having a nightmare, that would explain the screaming from before. 

Slowly you move yourself closer to Lando his bed. Should you awake him? When you hear him softly whimpering, you decide to awake Lando. You walk until you’re next to his bed, softly you grab his shoulders and start to shake him.

“Lando,” you say a couple times.

Then he’s finally awake. 

“Y/N?”

Lando gives you a confused look. He has no idea what’s going on. Why are you standing in front of him? How did you even get her? Minutes before you were yelling to him, right? The realization hits him that none of that really happened. He just had a bad dream. Maybe you heard him and came to check? 

“Hey,” you softly say, “are you okay?”

“I guess,” Lando mutters, “Did I keep you awake again?” 

“It’s no problem,” you quickly reply, “it sounded like you had a bad dream.”

“Kinda,” Lando confesses. He thinks back about his dream. Even his bad dreams are about you. That’s pathetic. You were screaming and yelling at him, he tries to remember why. Then he remembers the context of his dream. What started like a nice dream in which he was dating you, ended with him disappointing you and having a fight with you. 

“Want to talk about it?” You ask Lando.

“It’s not like you care,” Lando replies without thinking about his words. When he looks at you and notices the hurt expression on your face, he can slap himself out of frustration. Why does he always do this? “Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that,” he quickly apologizes, “Sorry babygirl.”

You try to ignore his earlier words. “Maybe we can watch something together? Take your mind of the nightmare,” you suggest. 

Lando feels himself getting excited. “That sounds great,” he tells you happily, “Do you want to go to the living room or?”

“Or?”

“I have a tv here as well,” Lando tells you while pointing at the television on the wall behind you. “So we can also watch here in my bed,” he explains. 

“What do you want?” You ask Lando. The idea of getting in the same bed with him scares you, but also seems nice. Lando is rather quickly with his answer. He moves himself more to the side of his bed and makes room for you. Without any words you get yourself on his bed. 

Together you search a video on YouTube to watch. You try to get comfortable in Lando his bed, but you can’t seem to find your comfort. Lando watches you. He tries to figure out a way to get you in his arms, but he doesn’t know what to say. Maybe he’s still distracted by the thought that you came here to figure out if he was okay. That must mean something right? Not something big, but at least you don’t hate him? 

“Come here princess,” Lando eventually says with a soft voice. He lifts his arm up. Hopefully you understand what he means. You doubt for a few seconds, but the need for a comfortable spot is high and Lando looks pretty comfortable. So you move yourself closer towards Lando and search for a position in his arms. When your head is laying on his chest, Lando drapes his arm around your body. Softly he plays with your hair.

“Thank you for coming here to check on me,” Lando tells you. You show him a small smile, “Of course Lan.”

“Lan?” He asks you confused. Since when do you have a nickname for him? 

“Is it bad?”

“No,” Lando quickly says, “please keep calling me that.”

The two of you focus on the YouTube video again. When it’s over Lando wants to ask you what you want to see next, but when he looks at you he discovers that you’re already sleeping. There’s a smile growing on his face. Fuck, you look cute like this. And even better, you’re in his arms. Lando puts the television off. Then he’s quick to join you and falls asleep. He wonders what tomorrow will bring, but after today he finally has the idea that he grow a bit closer towards you. Now he needs to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up again. 

a/n ; bit of a background story, next chapters will have more tension :)

taglist: @booksandflowrs @hiireadstuff @likedbygaslyy @dreamsarebig @f1fantasys

@samantha-chicago @sweatrevenge5436-blog @queenofmanydreams @fionamiller123

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@curbthatmf @m41-k1tt3n

[electricboogaloosstuff]

Spoilers post canon

Kinda tired of the "Laios need Kabru to tell him to do literally anything in his king job post canon" like yes, Laios is extremely off putting when he talks about his special interest and fail to pick up social clue until they punch him in the face (Toshiro they'll never make me hate you but please learn some additionnal steps between "acting like you're still in your japanese household" and "I Will Break Your Face")

BUT

My boy is a good leader, autism be damned. He didn't even whisper a word about eating monster before the beginning of the serie because he knew it would be strange to other people. He only told Tenshiro about the Crimes™ because he considered him his best friend (and Shiro is his friend ! The miscommunication is strong with these two but they do care about each other !). He told Kabru about eating monster because Kabru straight up told him "omgggg that's like, so interesting" while twirling his hair around his finger (that's one is on you Kabru, don't put yourself in your own PTSD nightmare for the bit please).

He is also observant of his party's personnality and strenght and know when he need to let someone else do the job (also why Kabru is his advisor, Laios know that Kabru is way more skilled in inter personnal relationship than him, especially when it's about people Laios doesn't know/care about like foreign dignitaries). Yes, outsider of his party are wary of him but he is still a stand up guy. And when he became a king, I have no doubt that his people will love him in the long run.

That being said, he absolutely needs Kabru ! That off putting motherfucker is very skilled and care about everything Laios cannot even force himself to give a fuck about. Alone they're good but lack something that would allow to them be good king. Together, they're unstoppable.

Anyway, Laios is an adult with his strenghts and weaknesses, but he is not a innocent little baby that need to be told how to say hi to people.

[cupid-styles]

I don't know if the requests are still open but I'd love a check up on tattoo artist harry cause I just love them so much 🥰🥰

proud (tattoorry/plugrry)

this was originally a patreon exclusive but I've had it in my drafts for months bc I really wanted to share it here!! so here it is! a little wholesome check-in with our cutie pie couple

word count: 2.4k

content warnings: minor mentions of mental health conditions including anxiety, depression, and trauma

only angel (tattoorry/plugrry) masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“Harry?”

Y/N’s gnawing on the skin of her bottom lip as she wrings her hands in her lap, nervousness apparent on her facial features. Harry glances up from his phone — he’s been mindlessly scrolling through cat videos on Instagram for the past half an hour or so, Friends on in the background as he and Y/N sit snuggled up in cozy throw blankets. 

She’d been working up the courage to say something for nearly two hours now, but everytime she went to part her lips and force the words out of her throat, she clammed up.

She couldn’t help the anxiety that crept through her bones, especially because she was used to constantly being looked down on. She knows Harry would never make her feel bad for any choice she made for herself, but what if he thought she was crazy? What if her trauma was too much to deal with? These were the worries that circulated her brain for days, ever since deciding that she wanted to seek out professional mental health help a few weeks ago.

“Hm?” he puts his phone down, locking the screen, “What’s up, dovie?”

Fidgeting with the skin surrounding her chipped nail polish, she swallows tightly. His eyes are analyzing her body language and she suddenly feels small and foolish beneath his gaze, solely because of the trauma from her parents.

They always treated her like she was less than, to the point where she wholeheartedly, truly believed it. In the few months that Y/N’s been on her own and officially dating Harry, he’s been helping her in ways she could have never imagined, but she didn’t want all of her issues to fall on him. It’s the main reason why she decided to find a therapist. 

“I’ve been thinking,” she rasps out, her voice cracking. “I think I’m going to start seeing a counselor. To deal with my, um… parents.”

Harry’s posture straightens and his eyebrows furrow, a concerned wrinkle forming between them. (It always showed up when Y/N mentioned anything relating to her family.) 

“What do you mean?” 

Rolling her lips into her mouth, she prepares the speech she’s been practicing in her head for days. 

“I just know I have a lot of trauma from them and I don’t want you to feel responsible for helping me through it all the time,” she says, reciting the explanation word-for-word, “It’s important for me to figure this out on my own and I want it to come from a mental health professional.”

Harry's look of worry almost instantly morphs into a gentle smile. He reaches out to intertwine their fingers together and gives her hand a small squeeze, much to Y/N’s relief. She was terrified he’d take it the wrong way, but the proud expression on his face says different. 

“That’s incredible, dovie. I’m so proud of you.” 

He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, the showcase of love instantly slowing her heartbeat. 

“You’re not mad?” she asks, peering up at him through thick eyelashes. 

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “I could never be mad at you for wanting to work on yourself. I think it’ll be really helpful for you. Have you found someone yet?”

“No. I wanted to run it past you before looking.”

His heart cracks a bit but he tries not to let it show on his face. “You never have to do that, okay? You’re your own person, baby, and I have no right to tell you what to do with your life. Alright?”

It’s a strange way to look at life after having every decision of her life planned out for her since birth. She’s still adjusting — that much is obvious, but it isn’t her fault, and Harry works regularly to help her realize that in small doses. 

“Would you maybe help me find a person?” Y/N peeps out, playing with his fingers in her lap. Her eyes are set on their hands, still too nervous to look at him face-to-face. Harry, though he has no experience looking for therapists himself, still nods enthusiastically, willing to help her take whatever steps she needs. 

“Why don’t you grab your laptop?” he suggests. She reaches forward to pull it off the coffee table before Harry wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. She makes a soft ah!, surprised by his sudden movements, which of course results in a small, snarky smile on his end. 

Shuffling so the laptop is in his lap now, he opens it, has her put her password in, and searches up “therapists near me.” His eyes float to the nervous girl beside him, who’s taken up gnawing on her fingernails as he clicks on the first result. It’s a directory of mental health professionals close to them where you can filter by specialities, insurance, and other preferences. 

“Okay, dovie,” he croons gently, “What are you looking for in particular? Someone to help with stress?” 

She shrugs. “Um, maybe something a bit more. Maybe… anxiety? A-and family stuff?”

“That’s a good starting point,” he encourages, clicking on the appropriate filters. Immediately, a number of therapists that originally showed up disappear, but it still leaves them with a decent amount to scroll through. “Anything else? Do you have a preference on gender or how far they are from us?”

“I think I want a woman,” she says before glancing up at him with worried eyes, “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.”

He clicks the “female” preference, resulting in around 15 options for them to look at. She continues biting her nail as Harry scrolls down. He periodically hovers over someone, asking her if she’d like to look at them more. She’ll either nod or shake her head, but in the event of the former, he’ll open their profile in a separate tab. 

Eventually, they narrow it down to three but one isn’t actively taking new clients, so it’s between Leanna, who looks to be around Harry’s mom’s age and is located 20 minutes from Y/N’s apartment, and Madeline, a younger woman with experience in a myriad of mental health concerns. 

Quietly, Y/N alternates between the two tabs, contemplating and comparing their experiences. He can tell that she’s having difficulty picking, but he doesn’t want to say anything to sway her in one direction over the other — he wants this to fully be her choice. 

“I think I like Madeline.” she says, looking up at her boyfriend. Her eyes are slightly rounded, lips parted as if she’s waiting for approval from Harry. 

“Sounds like a good choice, dove. How’d you settle on her?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, scrolling down on her profile page. “Well, she has experience with anxiety, depression, and trauma… and I’ve been reading a bit online, and I think I do have some trauma from my parents, so…”

Harry nods, smoothing her hair comfortingly. 

“And I like that she seems like she’s closer in age to us… it might make me feel more comfortable, like I’m talking to a friend,” she explains. He hums in agreement. “She also has a cat at her office, which I really like, too.”

He chuckles and leans over to nose at her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 

“I think those are all great reasons,” he murmurs.

He won’t admit it tonight because he doesn’t want her to get too nervous, especially if she ultimately decides she’s too scared to go, but he’s infinitely proud of her right now. He’s contemplated bringing up therapy to her for the past few months, particularly right after he helped her move out of her parents’ home.

The fact that she came to that decision herself is enough for him to feel over the moon, his chest swelling with pride. Even if she backs out at the last minute, at the very least, he knows she’s trying her best, and that’s all he could ever ask of her. 

“Why don’t you email her and send your information?” Harry suggests lightly, breaking Y/N out of her own trance of thinking. With a swallow, she nods, clicking on the little mail symbol next to Madeline’s name. 

He watches as she composes an email, her fingers stuttering over the keys every few minutes. He can tell that she’s over-thinking on what to say, but she eventually settles on a short, to-the-point message: Hi Madeline, my name is Y/N and I was interested in seeing you for therapy. Are you taking on new clients at the moment?

“Great,” Harry blurts out once she presses ‘send’. She looks up at him. “You did great.” he amends, a light blush flowering over his cheeks. 

All she does is smile and bury herself into his chest. 

. . .

“Here, why don’t you wear this to your appointment?”

Y/N thinks that Harry may be even more nervous for her first therapy session than she is. 

Although she’s busying around her apartment, getting her things together in preparation for her 11 am appointment, Harry’s movements are just as jerky and anxious. She’s currently looking for her favorite comfy sweatshirt when he suddenly peels off the fuzzy cardigan he’s wearing, handing it to her. It’s the one he bought on sale at Urban Outfitters a few weeks back when they had some time off from work and school. They’d been traipsing through the shops nearby with no intention of actually buying something, but Harry had said that he liked how it felt like a teddy bear. 

“Oh, but you’re already wearing that,” Y/N says with a pout, shaking her head. “It’s okay, I’ll find something else—”

“No, I want you to wear it,” he insists. “Maybe it’ll help make you feel more comfortable? Having something of mine?”

She blinks, slowly reaching out to accept it from his grasp. “What will you wear though?”

“I think I’ve left a few sweatshirts here,” he says, popping up from his seat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t you have that little drawer with all my stuff?”

She nods. It hadn’t really been an intentional thing, but when she told Lucy about it, she explained to her that it was kind of a big deal. Apparently, having a drawer at your significant other’s apartment meant that you were moving in the direction of living together, but Y/N didn’t see it that way. It was more for the sake of convenience, especially if Harry came over after work and decided to stay over instead of heading back to his place.

She walks over to her dresser and yanks open the top drawer. It’s filled to the brim with tee-shirts, sweatshirts, and two pairs of sweatpants, all of which belong to Harry. She glances over at him, embarrassed, and he laughs. 

“Geez, dovie, think you’re a bit obsessed with me,” he teases, grabbing one of the hoodies. She rolls her eyes. 

“You’re the one that leaves this stuff here all the time!” 

“Yeah, but it looks like you’re building some kind of shrine—”

“Oh, shush!” she says, pulling his cardigan on. She’ll admit, the fabric is heavenly, and the fact that it smells like Harry is a massive added bonus. “Are you still fine to drive me?”

He nods quickly once he has his sweatshirt on, grabbing his car keys. “Ready when you are, baby.”

He makes her take a granola bar and a water bottle on her way out, both of them bidding Lucy a goodbye when they exit the apartment. Y/N has a bad habit of not wanting to eat when she’s nervous, but Harry can guarantee that her stomach will start rumbling as soon as she’s done with today’s session. 

They climb into the familiarity of Harry’s car, Y/N taking her usual seat on the passenger’s side. She hasn’t driven much since cutting off communication with her parents. Obviously, she left the car they bought her, and she doesn’t have enough money in her savings to buy another one, even if it’s used or a lease.

Since she didn’t get the job at the bookstore, she’s been looking for other part-time opportunities on campus but nothing’s come up yet. Harry offered to get her some work at the shop, but she felt too weird about having her boyfriend pay her for silly tasks like cleaning up and scheduling appointments. 

Madeline’s office isn’t too far away, and Harry took the morning off to take her. He said — quote — “I’m clearing my schedule, dovie — no appointments, meetings, and certainly no drug deals!”. (That had made Y/N snort over the Chinese food they shared for dinner a few nights ago.) 

The drive is mainly quiet, save for Harry’s quiet music playing in the background. She’s nervous and fidgety in her seat so he reaches over to intertwine their fingers together, giving her hand a small squeeze in her lap. It makes her feel a little bit better, but she wishes Harry could go to her appointment with her. 

When they arrive, Harry pulls into a parking space just outside the door. They have 10 minutes before her session officially starts, but Madeline had asked if she could get there a bit early to fill out some paperwork. 

“Feel okay?” Harry asks, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair. She nods, even though her heart is hammering in her ribs. “You’re gonna do great, dovie. I’ll be here as soon as you’re done.”

“Okay,” she breathes, watching as the clock ticks one minute closer to 11. She swallows harshly and unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her bag from the floor of Harry’s car. “I'll be done by 11:45, right?”

“11:45, baby. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay. Alright.” 

He leans over to smear a quick kiss to her cheek and she smiles gently, though it doesn’t completely reach her eyes. She gets out of the car and straightens her posture, pulling Harry's cardigan tighter over her form, and winds around the front to walk in the direction of the front door. 

It’s only then that Harry rolls down his window, despite the wet, dewy chill of the morning. 

“Wait, Y/N!”

She turns around, an expression of confusion painting her features. 

“I’m so proud of you!” he exclaims. He can see her blush from his spot in the car, a wide, toothy grin appearing on her face. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you so much.”

She mouths it back — I love you too — this time with a smile that lights up her entire face. She waves her fingers with one more goodbye before taking a deep breath and walking into the office building. 

Harry can’t stop grinning to himself.

[minminyoonjii]

Hii, i would like to request a stray kids aftercare types or smth like that 🥲🥲 (srry im really bland i struggle with words 😭😭)

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Fem! Reader|Cry Baby! Couple|Smut Fluff|Body Worship|Crying|Heavy Teasing And Mocking|Condesending Tone|Dom Drop|Marking and Hickeys|Degrading Praise Kink|Act Of Service|Confessions|L-Bomb|Foodie Moments|Pussy Worship

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.1K

Bang Chan

"You feeling alright, pretty?" he asked, holding you tight. You nodded, running your fingers through his hair, "Ahm. More than alright," you said, kissing his cheek. Chan chuckled, easing your legs off his shoulder, "I know, baby. I know you're sore," he cooed, rubbing your calves when you hissed. "Don't talk to me like that, Chris," you whined, mind barely off the clouds. Chan smiled, "Okay, okay," he said, massaging your legs. You groaned into the pillow, melting at the firm pressure. Chan hummed, "How about a warm bath, yeah? I'll let you drop in a bath bomb," he said, wiping down your inner thighs. You lifted your head, "Thought you didn't like the glitter ones," you said, looking at him. He chuckled, "Yeah, but I'd do anything to make you feel loved little one," he reassured, kissing your forehead.

Lee Minho

Minho gulped, catching his breath, "Good kitten. Fuck, you did so good for me," he mumbled, nosing your hair. You shuddered, rubbing his back, "Did good?" you whispered, avoiding eye contact. He held your jaw, "Yes kitty. You did amazing," Minho praised, stroking your cheek in his palm. You sighed, nuzzling into it. Minho chuckled, "That's my good kitty. So precious and perfect," he whispered, holding you close to his chest. "You've never been this vocal before," you said, kissing his collarbones. Minho smirked, "Well, I can't go and cut fruits all of a sudden can I?" he teased, knowing he already did. You held his face, licking his lips, "I already saw the bunnies (bunny apples)," you said, kissing him deeply. Minho chuckled into the kiss, easing his tongue against yours.

Seo Changbin

"Deep breaths, bun. Take deep breaths," Changbin coaxed, easing out his girthy cock from your cunt. You shuddered from the sensation, "Bin," you whined, stretching out your arms. Changbin cooed, pulling you onto his lap, "Binnie's got you, hm? My baby bunny," he chuckled, pampering kisses on your face. You squirmed at the kisses, "No," you whined with a smile etched on your lips. Changbin smirked, pressing his kiss against yours, "No? Bunny is denying Binnie?" he gasped, pecking your lips a few more times. You giggled, laying your head comfortably on his chest. Changbin hummed, rocking your aching body, "What do you feel like eating, bun?" he asked, feeling his tummy grumble. You smiled, scrolling through his phone, "Can we order this?" you asked, showing him the dish. Changbin chuckled, "Go ahead," he said, hooking his chin over your head.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin kissed down your arm, "Shh. Relax, love," he hummed, nosing your skin. You shivered, staring at him with half-lidded eyes, "Hyune," you moaned. Hyunjin chuckled, shifting to kiss down your sternum, "Melt into it, lovely. I have you, hm?" he smirked, kissing your chest. You whined, bucking your hips as he blew on your sensitive nipples. "My lovely muse," he sighed, kissing your tummy, paying attention to the pouch where your womb would be. "Hyunjin," you gasped, brushing his hair. Hyunjin nuzzled inner thighs, "Can't believe you took me so well, love. Your pretty pussy was just meant for my cock," he praised, wiping your swollen cunt with careful and precise hands. You sank into the warmth, letting him take care of you fully.

Han Jisung

"Aww, my precious crybaby. Did it feel too good again, sweetheart?" Jisung asked, wiping the stray tears streaming down your cheeks. You hiccuped, burying your face into his palms. Jisung chuckled, tucking your body against his, "I know, sweetie. My cock made you feel all vulnerable, hm?" he asked, hearing your soft babbles in return. "Yes, yes. My cock pleased you very well, I know," he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. You jutted your bottom lip, looking up at him. Your eyes were glossy with tears, and your nose was red from sniffling. Jisung cooed, tucking your hair behind your ears, "Gorgeous. So stunning," he whispered, leaning forward to sync your lips. You melted into the kiss, hands brushing his waist. Jisung pulled away, "Time to bathe, sweetheart. Maybe afterwards we could binge a show or two," he chuckled, lifting you.

Lee Felix

Felix sniffled, emotions running high after an intense session. You held his face, "Lix, are you alright?" you asked, brushing away the tears threatening to drop. Felix shook his head, "You know I didn't mean those words right? You know it was just a scene, right sunbeam?" he asked, lips wobbling with each word. You pulled him close, "Of course, I know that sunshine. You treat me with the utmost respect daily," you reassured, rubbing his back. Tears soaked your bare skin, "I got scared. Scared of unintentionally hurting you, sunbeam. I would never forgive myself for that," Felix whimpered, holding you firm against him. Tears pooled in your eyes, "Don't cry, sunshine. You know if you cry, I'll cry," you sniffled, rocking each other's sensitive bodies until you both relaxed.

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin tossed his head back, chest rising and falling, "Fuck," he sighed, groping your plump ass. You whined, "Min," you said, shifting forward. Seungmin hissed as the chill air grazed his slicked cock, "Come on, pup. Let's wash up," he chuckled, lifting you. "We look like a mess," you grumbled, looking at the blooming bruises and hickeys coating your skin. Seungmin winced, turning around only to see nail marks down his back, "We did quite a number, didn't we?" he smirked, turning on the shower. You rolled your eyes with a smile, "You were the one who wanted to switch positions midway," you teased, melting under the water. Seungmin chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, "If I remember correctly, who was the one that kept begging to feel me deeper, hm?" he whispered, nipping your earlobe. You leaned back into him, "Hah, hah. Fine," you whined, lathering his body with soap.

Yang Jeongin

"Angel. My angel. All mine," Jeongin rambled, nuzzling your chest. You gulped, catching your breath, "Yours, all yours," you slurred, patting his head. Jeongin chuckled, rubbing your sides, "Was I too rough at any point?" he asked, tracing circles on your tummy. You shook your head, "Nope. Loved it all," you said, rubbing his ears. Jeongin sighed, pulling you by the waist, "Sit up, angel," he said, handing you a glass of water. You gulped it down, not realising you were that thirsty. He smiled, "Give me a minute," Jeongin said, bringing in cup noodles. "By the time we're done washing up the noodles would be ready," he said, pouring hot water into them. You giggled, taking his hand after he finished preparing, "I love you," you said, kissing his cheek. Jeongin twirled your waist, hips pressed against each other, "I love you more," he said, kissing your lips.

[a-s-ter]

"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"

— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.

— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.

PART 1 , PART 2

You were furious. Shattering objects around your room, you turned your once pristine chamber into a chaotic mess. Your anger overflowed onto everyone around you, shouting and unleashing abuse.

You broke down. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped the bed sheets, sprawled on your royal bed still clad in your sleepwear.

You were M/n, the prince! How could you have stooped so low as to beg someone, especially a butler? It was utterly humiliating! What would your father and mother say if they discovered your shameful behavior?

Your father had placed a heavy burden upon your shoulders, entrusting you with the future of the empire. He had envisioned you as a paragon of strength, resilience, and dominance. However, you found yourself succumbing to the influence of a mere butler. His admonitions reverberated in your mind like a relentless echo.

"Do not disappoint me. Be strong and wield the sword with skill, just as your brother does. My time wanes, and the throne shall be yours upon my passing. Fail me not, M/n, lest I consider another heir."

These words were etched into your very being, a constant weight upon your conscience. You vowed not to falter. You would rise above this moment of weakness and prove yourself worthy of the crown he had bestowed upon you.

Your cries were silent, hidden from the world. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone discovering your weakness, fearing it would tarnish your reputation and redefine how others perceived you. You couldn't afford to be seen as anything less than the strong and dominant M/n they expected.

You couldn't let your mother and father see this side of you. No one could know your vulnerability. But that butler had already glimpsed your submissive nature, a betrayal you couldn't forgive.

Clutching the bedsheets tighter, you vowed to exact punishment upon him. But how? The question gnawed at you as you plotted your next move.

"Your Highness?"

Your eyes widened as you recognized that voice. It was that damned butler! Quickly, you got up from your bed and hurried to the door without thinking. With a rush of irritation, you swung it open and came face-to-face with that annoying face you despised.

"You asshole! How dare you show your face in front of me!? Get out of my sight, I never wish to see you here ever again!" you yelled, your voice trembling with anger.

He stared down at you, his yellow eyes cold and calculating as they scanned your face. "That's such a shame, Your Highness," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You'll be seeing me more often."

"W—what the heck do you mean by that!?" you demanded, your bewilderment evident in your tone.

"Your mother," he began, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, "heard about your recent behavior and was quite shocked. When she saw that I possess the proper manners and decorum you seem to lack, she decided I would be the perfect candidate to be your new etiquette teacher." His words hung in the air, leaving you stunned and speechless.

You chuckled nervously, hoping it was some twisted joke. "H-hey... Tell me you're joking. Y-you're joking, right!?" Desperation seeped into your voice as you grabbed his collar harshly, trying to shake the truth out of him.

"I'm afraid not," he replied calmly, his smirk unwavering. "She found out about your behavior towards the maids and your lack of manners, Your Highness."

Anger flared within you at his words, and you tightened your grip on his collar. "So what if I have no manners!? I couldn't care less about those worthless maids! Those 'foods' are nothing but garbage. We don't eat slop like that; it's disgusting! They should've been kicked out of this castle ages ago! Just like you! Just a lowly butler who's probably good at nothing, maybe just some trash my father picked up!" you spat.

"Your words only confirm why I'm here. Perhaps it's time you learned the value of respect and humility your highness."

"No! Fuck off asshole!" you exclaimed, but he paid no heed to your protests. With a swift motion, he forcefully removed your grip on his collar and seized your wrist in a tight grip, his hold unyielding.

You struggled against his grasp, but it was futile. With a determined stride, he barged into your room, his grip still firm as he flung you to the unforgiving floor. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as pain shot through your body upon impact.

As you lay there, vulnerable and in pain, you watched helplessly as he closed the door behind him and locked it, sealing you both in.

He glared down at you, his eyes a piercing yellow that sent shivers down your spine.

"Shall we begin the lesson with your mouth, Your Highness?" His words were laced with a commanding tone as he strode towards you.

"My mouth!? What do you mean by my mouth? Stay away, you filthy vermin!" You attempted to rise, but your legs failed you, leaving you vulnerable on the floor.

With a smirk that sent a chill down your spine, he loomed over you, seizing your chin to meet his gaze forcibly.

"You have such beautiful eyes your highness. Staring at me like that turns me on." he declared, as your gaze involuntarily dropped to his pants, where a noticeable bulge had formed.

"Do you want to see it? See how I'm going to lecture that mouth of yours?" His tone was both mocking and tantalizing as he began to undo his belt, the metallic clink resonating in the tense silence of the room.

"N-no, no! I don't want to see your icky meat!" you protested, but your words fell on deaf ears as he proceeded to remove his belt and push down his underwear.

Your eyes widened in shock as his erect member was revealed before you, Tall and pale white with a crimson hue at the tip, it stood proudly before you, veins pulsing along its length as it throbbed with anticipation.

"It's yours," he declared, his voice thick with desire, "all yours for you to see anytime and anywhere, Your Highness."

"W-wha—?" Your attempt at a coherent response was abruptly stifled as he seized your head, thrusting his cock into your mouth with an aggressive force that left you gasping for air. The sudden intrusion hit the back of your throat, eliciting a choked gurgle of surprise as your eyes widened in shock.

Instinctively, you reached out, grasping onto his thighs for support as you struggled to accommodate his size. Sweat beaded on his brow as he grunted in satisfaction, relishing the sight of you adjusting to his relentless penetration. His grip tightened on your hair, adding to the sensation of his control over you.

"Mhmm, that's a good boy... Taking me all in," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you with a predatory gaze.

"Ngh... Let's begin the lesson, Your Highness." With a deliberate motion, he began to withdraw his cock from your mouth, only to slam it back in with a force that stole your breath away. Your grip on his thighs tightened as tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pain and submission washing over you as you surrendered to his will.

He moaned in ecstasy, throwing his head back as the overwhelming sensations consumed him. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, the slickness of your saliva adding to the intensity of his pleasure. With each thrust, he felt himself sinking deeper into bliss, utterly lost in the euphoria of the moment.

As he gazed down at you, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. Your furrowed brows, the blush that painted your cheeks, the subtle bulge he noticed in your pants – it was all too much, too perfect. In this moment, you belonged to him and him alone.

"Kick and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the fuck out of me. Only you can do that to me and not to anyone else, i don't want your attention to go to anyone but me. You don't belong to anyone but me, M/n. Only me." he declared, his words laced with a possessive fervor as he continued to thrust into your mouth, each motion driving him closer to the edge.

As you gasped for breath, he withdrew his cock from your mouth allowing you a moment to recover. Relief flooded through you as you gulped in air, your chest heaving with the effort while a smirk was playing on his lips as he observed your struggle.

With a cruel chuckle, he grasped his cock firmly in his hand and lightly slapped your flushed cheeks with it, Your glare met his amused gaze. Chuckling softly as he seemed to revel in your reaction.

"Day to dusk, I'm going to fuck that bratty attitude out of you, so you better be ready, your Highness."

[s-4pphics]

A/N: me vs writing what i’m supposed to aka moth aka vampire possession aka anyway here’s post santa barbara angst don’t ask questions im not really sure LOL

“You’re back.” 

Determined hands freeze in the dirt, the freshly watered daisies glistening under the beaming sun rays. Your soiled fingers halt all movement at the soft acknowledgment from behind. A sigh leaves your lips. 

“… I am.” 

An exhausted one, and it’s not from your strenuous labor in the garden. Your body refuses to turn, but holes burn in your spine, leaving behind lasered streaks of green. 

“Can you look at me?” Ellie pleads gently. The softest you’ve heard her be in months. 

What she doesn’t know is that you’ve been back. For a week actually, hiding out in other people’s homes throughout Jackson, assisting in places where Ellie’s least likely to go. The garden in particular; Pollen makes her sneeze. 

Time is vital and interesting; Dina left her and Ellie’s farmhouse with her son when you fled Jackson. She sought you out, but you weren’t there. You spent most of your time alone, walking, running, killing what you had to. Searched for peace, internal and external. The sight of the waterfall was worth the months-long trip. Your home is different now. Eerily quiet. The kids you helped teached to read don't play outside or laugh as often anymore. You hardly see Tommy or Maria around. Jesse is dead. Joel is dead. Dina isolates with JJ. Hugs him like she’ll die if she lets go. 

Ellie’s forever changed. The town’s forever changed, and you’ve finally accepted that it’s for the worse. 

“Is listening not enough?” 

Cordiality is beyond you. Spite is evident. Even the flowers can feel it. 

You tried to be patient, to coddle, to mourn and aid and tend. Sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of hers. You tried, Dina tried, Tommy didn’t but he did at the same time. Oddly, destructively, but in his own way. You blame him and don’t. Hate him and don’t. He’s violently and permanently scorned, but so are you. So is Ellie. She says nothing from behind you. You rise with a pop in your knees and an upturned lip. 

When you face Ellie, your knees wobble. Scarred: emotionally, physically, mentally. Permanently. Her eyes are more breakable than glass, the shattered hand that displays defeat hid shamefully behind her back. But her cheeks are fuller, no longer the hollow vacancies they were before she left. Maria was always on her back about finishing her meals. 

Grief is complicated. Hurt. Anger. The flowers wilt. Listening isn’t enough, and neither is sacrifice.

Ellie’s nose always twitches when she thinks. Your heart gives a sporadic pulse, but not enough to revive the shell you're trapped in. 

“I don’t want an apology from you.” 

She shakes her head, “I know.” 

“Then why are we talking?” 

Another twitch of her nose. She searches for something. “I—“

But then she flinches away from you, a bent arm coming up to cover her nose and mouth when she sneezes. A painful jerk thrums through your chest, but still not enough. 

“Bless you.” 

One more sneeze, but softer. A bit squeaky. Remnant of when you first met her at 13 and she followed you out to the greenhouse to watch you water the orange trees. 

“Thanks.” 

You nod stiffly. When she doesn’t say anything, you move to leave. Your work is done and she knows you’re back; There’s no point in being alone with her. 

Ellie doesn’t follow, but she does speak. 

“I’m trying.” 

You pause, one foot in front of the other. A doe learning how to walk for the first time. 

“I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be okay but it’s not working.” Her voice trembles.

You weren’t expecting a confession. Normal. An interesting use of the word. No one feels that anymore. 

“It probably won’t for a long time.” You state, just as quietly as she, “But if you stop trying, you’ll rot from the inside. If that’s what you want, then fine. But if not… That's all you can do now.” 

“Will we ever be okay?” 

‘We’ means many. ‘We’ means two. Your back’s to Ellie, but you can see her. Unmoving, but frantic. Her mind cranks at a million miles a minute. You feel her eyes on you. Too familiar. 

You’re not sure how to answer, so you don’t. You take one last look at her before you walk away. 

Flowers never look the same the next day. 

[logicallyblind]

Okay okay but consider possible batfam fic idea:  

so Bruce is in an emergency justice league meeting that got called but because its taking place at night he has a comm on in his ear playing at a low volume because all of the batfam are out on patrol around gotham covering his patrol route for him and because you know B is a paranoid, overprotective fucker he just to make sure everything is going smoothly for his kids but he doesn’t plan on actually letting them know he’s tapped into their network because he can already hear the lecture from Dick about trusting them to take care of the city.  

So he’s listening to them quietly while also paying attention to Clark talking about some alien diplomacy issue and his kids are YAPPING away about the stupidest shit to one another cause they don’t have B telling them off for ‘unprofessional unnecessary chatter while on patrol’ and  you’re getting a mix of all the dynamics between them all and the longer the meeting is going on the more B’s eye is just TWITCHING because his Dad senses are just going hay wire and he is just here like ‘I cannot say anything in front of the league because they cannot know I have children cause I'm Batman and I work alone blah blah blah’, usual brooding, but Damian and Tim are squabbling with one another about a rescue that took place an hour ago and Dick is challenging Jason to a parkour contest and Steph is challenging the Riddler to a riddle off with riddles she made up and have no answer just to piss him off and his dad sense is just like an alarm going off and then he just cant take it anymore cause Duke (pretend he’s on nightshift to make up for the man down or smth idk shh) says something like ‘I'm going to do my book report in the morning Richard leave me be’ even though Bruce KNOWS he isn't going to do it in the morning, this has happened before they have an AGREEMENT, a CONTRACT god damn it but they don't know Bruce is listening to the comms Duke just goes something like “its fine B won't even find out!” and Bruce just LOSES it there and then and just presses his comm and goes “NO. No, stfu all of you I am taking charge here” and he just starts going off on them all for the different things they were whining about like

“No Signal, go and do your damn book report right now you are not going to be doing it in the morning you always say you will and you never wake up early enough to get it done so then you end up speed doing it in the car while nearly stress crying and I am cannot deal with that while running on 49 hours of no sleep so go and do it right this damn minute. I am TIRED, I am tired boy go. GO. I love you, goodnight.” 

“N go and unload the damn dishwasher. I asked you four. FOUR days ago to do it and A is not coming home until next week please I am begging you I have been drinking my coffee out of bowls and a straw for days now. Thank you, I love you goodnight.”  

“Red Robin. Put the coffee down. No- I know its in your hand I can feel it. I can feel it in my BONES child you cannot hide from me, down. Now. Good. Get a piece of fruit and go to bed. No I don't give a fuck if- no. I don't care if the pentagon has laughably easy security to bypass right now it has been over 72 hours since you closed your eyes I WILL call A I will, I’ll do it right now. I’m calling him right now- good okay goodnight. I’m sending Dick to check on you to make sure you’re actually sleep. I love you too goodnight”  

“Robin I know you're there. Damn right go to bed, Titus can go with you yes you don't have to ask every night baby its going to be the same answer, I love you goodnight.” 

“Hood and Spoiler stop trying to goad rogues into fighting each other and go home. Hood will you- thank you. Goodnight I love you both....no S I will not ask Ivy if she’ll make you real life lil shop of horrors plant to leave at your ex’s house please stop asking. Goodnight.”   

"C are you- I love you too."

And he just lets out this enormous, patented Dad sigh and looks up after a few moments and realizes the entire justice league is just watching him absolutely GOBSMACKED because oh my god how long has this been going on for?? because like what the fuck this was cold, calculated, ‘they think he's actually a robot’ Batman, who just all of a sudden just went BOOM father mode is activated, this is a patriARCH, you know? Daddy bats alright. And he's just like, his facial expression doesn't so much as twitch but a light blush just appears on his entire face and then Clark is just like HEART EYES and Hal is just like HEARTEYES (??!!) and Barry is suddenly having a sexuality crisis because what the fuck is this, and Diana is just like, speechless but in love and he just mumbles after a few moments “...you can continue your speech Clark I apologize for my lapse in professionalism” and Hal is just like “NAH MOTHERFUCKER YOU ARE NOT BREEZING PAST THAT WHAT THE FUCK SPOOKY??” and then the entire situation just devolves in chaos.  

[yayakoishii]

Sober (Pt. 2) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre/Tags: Angst, Happy Ending, Sanji being dumb

Summary: You had waited for Sanji to confess to you when he was sober. Except...

A/n: I don't usually write sequels but I felt like it and then it became unexpectedly angsty?? It's still a pretty happy ending imo, so I hope you like this continuation ♡

To new readers, this is a part 2 to my oneshot that I've linked below. You could read this one without reading that, but it won't make as much sense.

Part 1

also available on ao3!

He didn't do it.

The morning after, Sanji woke up with a terrible headache and vague hazy memories from the night before. It was only when he was serving breakfast to everyone and saw you that he remembered the… conversation you two had had. But then he dismissed it, realising it was only a dream. He had drank too much, fallen asleep and dreamt of you. Yeah, that must have been it.

Thinking so, he smiled at you as usual and mooned over Nami and Robin as always, not noticing your hopeful smile turn into a disappointed one.

Every time you popped into the kitchen or tried to strike up a conversation with Sanji after that, the dream would pop up in his mind and he ended up stammering his way out. A few days in, you realised he was avoiding you and started reciprocating by not going out of your way to talk to him either.

Sanji missed you. He didn't realise what the problem was because he wasn't being that weird. Okay, so maybe he was too flustered from his dream where you had held him so close and he had kissed you (he could still feel the phantom warmth of your breath on his mouth, the wet press of your lips on his cheek) and it was difficult to talk to you about anything without feeling the urge to do that with you. Maybe he had shut down one conversation too many but now you were avoiding him back and he didn't know how to fix it.

He couldn't just tell you about that dream he had had. You would slap him and be disgusted and freak out. Even the thought of that sunk his heart. He could tolerate being just a crewmate to you for the rest of your lives, but he couldn't tolerate the thought of you hating him forever. But without talking about the dream, he couldn't explain himself either.

A week passed like that, the two of you awkward and clumsy around each other. Everyone else noticed and Nami had tried to talk to both you and Sanji about it but neither of you let her know anything. They were all confused and Luffy just wanted you both to go back to being your usual selves because it was weird even for him. Of course, no one had the gall to say it to your faces, and Nami had stopped Luffy from saying it when he tried.

Fortunately, a new island appeared and the usual straw hat cycle of finding a city in trouble and accidentally saving them played its hand. The resulting party had you downing a few bottles of wine, although Sanji knew how much you hated the taste of alcohol.

"Why would I drink that?" Your face had scrunched up the first time Sanji had questioned you about it. "It doesn't taste good to me at all. I'd rather drink the juice you make for me, Sanji."

There was no one on the ship who praised Sanji's cooking as much as you did. You didn't hesitate to compliment his food every single day and while Sanji was very secure in his cooking ability, it was still validating to hear how much you loved his food anyway.

This past week you hadn't complimented him even once. You had never gone this long without doing it so Sanji knew you had to be really upset with him. He had to try and fix this as soon as he could.

Even during the party, his head was full of thoughts of you. When he looked out for you, he found you slumped over a table, empty wine bottles lying all around you. Without thinking, Sanji made his way over and cleared away the bottles so that you wouldn't accidentally break one and hurt yourself. You stayed silent as you watched him.

"Do you want to go back to the Sunny, my dear?" Sanji looked at you finally, trying to exude his usual self. You shot him a glare and pouted, your cheeks puffing up in what was unmistakably anger.

"Go away," you hissed at him. Sanji had to blink away the thought of how much you resembled a cat in that moment. "I don' like lyin' liars who lie to me."

Sanji had expected you to be angry at him but that statement confused him. He had avoided you, yes, but he could not remember lying to you. You were not one to lie so perhaps there had been a misunderstanding between you two?

"Which lie are you talking about, (y/n)-chan?" He asked carefully. You froze and shot him another glare. Even angry, you looked cute.

"Which lie?" You sounded outraged. "How many lies have you told me, huh?!"

"Wh– that's not what I meant!" Sanji tried to calm you down but you stood up abruptly and started walking back to the Sunny. The chef was stunned for a second. You never just up and leave. He had really badly fucked this up. So of course he had to run after you. Sanji caught up to you halfway, skidding to a halt in your path so you couldn't move. "Wait! I really don't know what lie you're talking about, my love, but I'm sorry for it. I will do whatever it takes to beg for your forgiveness and then try my best to make the lie a reality."

You stopped glaring and shot him a heartbroken look instead. Sanji felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. Why did you look like that over… him?

"That's what it was supposed to be," you said quietly. The two of you were quite a way away from the din of the party so Sanji could make out the words. He was getting more confused but he had to be patient and hear you out. He couldn't fix his mistake if he didn't know what he had done. "You said that if this was real… you wanted to hold me. You said you would tell me how much I mean to you. That you would kiss me and tell me how much you love me. So why haven't you, Sanji? Do you not feel those things anymore? Or was it all a lie?"

Sanji froze. That was… that was the dream he had had! How did you know– Oh. Oh he had been so stupid. It hadn't been a dream at all. It had been real. And he had fucked it all up by avoiding you after all of that.

"Maybe I was the one who was an idiot for thinking you could possibly like me," you were crying now, tears running down your cheeks. Sanji's heart hurt at the sight; he had wanted to be the reason for your smile and laughter, not for your tears. He had hurt you, the person most precious to him. You suddenly grabbed his collar and pushed him into the tree and he just let you, mind too jumbled up to say anything. "I'm a fool. God, I was so stupidly happy that night, I couldn't sleep. I thought all my dreams had come true. I thought we would be in love. I thought I could finally wake you up with a kiss and tell you how much I loved you too before we fell asleep. I thought I would make you your favourite dish for your birthday and, and go do one of those love compatibility readings at the fortune telling shop for fun! I thought, I thought of so many things I wanted to do with you and you… Sanji, you never came. You never told me those words you had said when you were drunk."

He wanted all of that too. Sanji wanted to do all those things you had said and even more.

Your tightened fists loosened as you breathed heavily, still crying. Even like this, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. If Sanji had had any doubts before this, then they had no place in his heart any longer. All of him, mind, body and soul, was yours. He could not let you go on with this misunderstanding any longer.

"Guess they were wrong," you chuckled wetly, stepping back. "A drunk man's words aren't his truest thoughts after all. They are just his–"

"They are," Sanji said roughly, stepping back into your bubble. You didn't look up at him, just stared down at your feet, still crying silently. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking all this time, my love, when you deserved to be told everyday that I'm but a fool for your attention. I was in the wrong, thinking that night had been a mere dream when my imagination cannot even begin to dream up the warmth you possess. I'm sorry and I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if only you would find it within yourself to give me one more chance."

Your eyes looked hopeless, and you just smiled weakly at him.

"Hasn't it been enough, Sanji?" Your voice wavered. "Don't play with my heart anymore. I love you too much to survive another–"

Sanji pulled you into a tight hug, his arms surrounding you completely. Although you were still mad at him, your body automatically relaxed at the familiar comforting scent of him. "I don't have the words to even begin to apologise for what I have done. But I swear to you, love, I will make up for my mistake in every action from now on. I will leave no doubt in your mind of the fact that I'm madly, stupidly, disgustingly deeply in love with you. So much that my own heart isn't enough to hold all that love."

"You're like a dream, Sanji," you said quietly into his ear, heart racing yet mind calm. "A dream that you can't quite remember when morning comes. A dream that the more you try to grasp it, the more it slips from you. But even if you're a dream like that, I want to believe in that dream. I'm stupid enough to want to get my heart hurt again because it has chosen you and refuses to choose any other. So you better show me that my heart made the right decision."

"I will," he promised, pressing you harder into him. You were clinging onto him just as hard, but your tears had finally stopped.

"I don't like lying liars who lie, Sanji," you repeated your words from before. The chef smiled to himself. "You better keep your word this time."

Sanji hummed and let you go only to cup your cheeks in the palm of his hands. You looked at him, still a mess from crying and drinking. You were starting to look sleepy but Sanji felt like you had blown all his sleep away.

"When I'm sober," you paused to give a tiny yawn that had Sanji's heart clenching from how adorable it was, "you better be next to me."

Sanji smiled and picked you up bridal style. You curled into him and fell asleep in two seconds, barely catching his soft reply.

"I'll be there."

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

+ @vespidphoenix | @cobainlover | @blue-chup | @yourboyhack (tagging because you seemed interested in pt. 2; sorry if it's a bother!)

[redsray]

i do love the idea of the wayne kids giving bernard shovel talks about taking care of tim and all that but also give me batfam who are just as protective of bernard as they are of each other.

give me bernard, attending his first wayne gala as tim's significant other. having a suit custom tailored and funded by bruce even if bernard insists it's not necessary because he already has one. arriving at the gala anxious because of course he is, it's a goddamn socialite event, but being protected from every side by the wayne kids even when tim is dragged away.

Socialite: Oh, and who might you be?

Bernard: Oh, um, hi. I'm Bernard Dowd, nice to meet you.

Socialite: Dowd? I've never heard of your family before. Who...?

Bernard: I'm not here with my family, miss, I'm here with my boyfriend.

Socialite: ... Boyfriend?

Bernard: Yeah, I'm here with Tim.

Socialite, frowning: Tim... as in Drake-Wayne? He has a boyfriend?

Dick, coming up next to Bernard: He sure does! Bernard here is practically one of ours now, aren't you? He matters to Timmy, so he matters to us.

Bernard: Dick—

Dick: C'mon, let's get you back to Timmy. Farewell, Mrs!

Bernard: I could've handled that.

Dick: All the rules that apply to my siblings during galas apply to you too. I'm sure you could've, but you shouldn't have to. I've got your back too, now, yeah?

Bernard: ... Yeah. Thanks, Dick.

Jason, coming up to Bernard at the bar: Not to freak you out, kid, but there's a guy starin' at ya from the other side of the bar. Y'know him or should I encourage him to look away?

Bernard, startled: Huh? (looks around) Oh. No, I don't know him. Why... is he looking at me like that, actually?

Jason, scowling: 'S just how the slimy fuckers at these events are. Can't keep their eyes off anything that's small, young or pretty. Disgusting. I'll deal with him— where's your annoying other half gone, inferior blondie?

Bernard: Tim? He got pulled away for quote; 'something important' by some lady. He said he'll meet me here after he's done, so I've been waiting.

Jason: Huh. If I see him I'll point him yer way. Hey, don't be 'fraid to ask any of us questions or for help if ya need it. We know the best how daunting this shit can be.

Bernard, genuinely touched: ... Thanks, Jason.

Jason: Yeah, yeah. Don't tell Timmers I said that, though, he'll call me a loser.

Bernard, laughing: I won't.

Bernard, being talked to by several people at once and a bit overwhelmed by the attention: Uh— I'm—

Damian, stepping between him and the socialites: Dowd. I require your assistance.

Bernard: Um— hi, Damian— with what?

Damian: You will see when we get there. Follow me, Drake's more tolerable half.

Bernard: Okay... so what do you need from me?

Damian: Nothing. You seemed to dislike the attention from all of the nosy adults over there. It was the most efficient way of extracting you from the situation.

Bernard: Oh. Thanks, Damian.

Damian: Tt, don't thank me yet, Dowd. I am still criticising your choice in romantic partners.

Bernard: Didn't you threaten me with a katana to not dampen Tim's mood in any way shape or form?

Damian: Slander. I said quote 'if you make Drake more annoying by breaking his heart I'm going to maim you.' I don't see how you got the message you did from that.

Bernard, grinning: Sure, Damian. Sure.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+

✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower

Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.

That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.

Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.

An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.

It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.

He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.

You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.

You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.

No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.

He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.

He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.

He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.

You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.

He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.

A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.

And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.

"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.

"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."

He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.

Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.

You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.

[nkogneatho]

BURNT PANCAKES

The sun felt extra bright, even the curtains couldn't contain the rays. It bounced off Satoru's white hair as well as his oceanic eyes with cerulean shades that felt like it had little pearls in it.

"Had a good sleep, babe?" He asked, handing you the cup of coffee with the extra cream you like.

"Uh huh," you nodded, taking the cup in your hand, looking down at the crooked heart made on top of the cream with roasted coffee powder. You look back at him giggling at his poor art skills.

"What? If I was born in the 19th century, the world wouldn't have a Picasso. It would have Gojo Satoru,"

"Sure. But then we'd never meet," your fingers graze against the ceramic handle.

"Another reason to be borned in 1800s," you lightly slap his chest. Your mouth pouts, and you peer away. He is always like this. And you'd think that he'll immediately sugar talk you, yet he doesn't. He waits for you to get annoyed. He flips the pancakes, trying so hard not to chuckle. You walk away from the kitchen—or at least you try to, before he grabs you by your wrist.

"Where are you going, lil' one?"

"Well since you probably don't want me in your life, I shouldn't disturb you," you know it was an innocent joke, although, it did hurt a little. It's his personality to be an ass. But do you know what's his even greater trait? He knows when to sweep your feet off the ground. He knows when to hold your body so close that there is no space left for even air to pass from. He knows how to kiss you til' you go breathless, and your mind becomes hazy. All that insecurity is forgotten when his tongue pushes past your lips.

You pull away to catch a breath. "Your pancakes are burning, Picasso," you shoot a look towards the smoke coming. Satoru turns off the knob without looking back, his eyes locked on you.

"We have our whole lives to make pancakes. I want you more than anything now."