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#i realize part of it is borderline but also it's just him
littlebearbun · 7 hours
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Sleepy-time T(ouching)
Stanford Pines x Reader
(Like sleepy-time tea? Get it? I'll see myself out. I hate writing titles.)
Summary: Stanford Pines is a brilliant scientist. He's also a liar. He said he would be in bed hours ago! Whatever is a determined lover like yourself to do about that?
AN: This is the longest fic I've written to date and it's not even for the Pines twin I simp for the most. Stanford just has a certain....Listen I think he would beg real nice and I wanna make him feel loved ok
Included: Oral sex with Ford under his desk. Hand/finger kink. Begging. Sub!Stanford Pines.
“Stanford Filbrick Pines, you told me you were coming to bed!” you called from the doorway to his lab, arms crossed and impatience lacing your tone. The machinery of his lab beeped and chirped sporadically. Some of them printed what looked like receipts of information for him to collect later. 
“It’s barely been a few minutes since you asked me to, darling,” Ford murmured. He didn’t even look up from his journal (if you remembered right, this was #5.) His shoulders were hunched, the sleeves of his red turtleneck rolled up to his elbows (God, you found his forearms of all things attractive. You really were in love), and his tan trenchcoat lay forgotten over a nearby chair. The six fingers of his left hand tapped rhythmically as he read over his notes. 
“It’s been three hours!” you responded with a roll of your eyes that he didn’t see. When he did look up, you saw exactly what you had seen hours ago-Ford’s eyes were ringed with dark circles, his eyes themselves were bleary and borderline unfocused, and his hair was mussed. He must have been running his hands through it. If it was frustration or contemplation, though, you couldn’t say. 
“Three hours?” he repeated, softer, and blinked for longer than necessary. It was probably one of his micro-naps, even though you didn’t really believe him that those were a thing. 
“Yes,” you said, and walked over to him. He watched as you approached, his eyes warm even through his obvious exhaustion. 
“I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t realize that I lost track of time. I’m so close, it feels like there’s just one or two more breakthroughs I need to make-”
“Stanford,” you interrupted, voice more of a coo of his name. “You haven't slept in, like, two days.” You reached out for him, cupping his face first, stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones. His shoulders loosened immediately. Even through your annoyance that he hadn’t come to bed, you couldn’t help the burst of affection for this man that melted into your hand as soon as you touched him. You didn’t say anything more for the moment, running your fingertips under his big brown eyes, over the bridge of his nose, across his brow, and lastly, over the seam of his mouth. 
By this point, Ford was already sufficiently in your power. His lips parted and he started to say something, stopped, and kissed your fingertip instead. You pressed it between his lips and gave him a sweet look. You did not miss the small shudder that went through him as you hooked your thumb behind his teeth and pressed. 
“Oh, honey,” you murmured, saccharine, and removed your hands from him. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, huh?” 
“I-” he started, but you took hold of the back of his rolling chair with your free hand and pulled it back just enough to fit between him and the desk. He cut himself off, then, watching you with narrowed eyes and a slight pink tint to his face. Carefully, to avoid his ire, you stacked all of his papers as orderly as you could and moved them to the side. You dropped his pens back into their glass with a clink and closed the box that held his other supplies for scientific notes and his lovely artistic journaling. You knew Ford liked organization, and he was looking at you like you’d hung the moon as you moved everything about his desk with such care. Once the desk was clear, you hopped up onto it, spreading your legs so Ford and the chair could fit between them. You pulled him forward by his turtleneck, kissing him properly this time. 
If Stanford Pines wouldn’t come to bed, you’d have to get him to follow another way.
As soon as your lips met, Ford let out a sigh that curled in your stomach and warmed. He tilted his head up, his nose bumping against yours (Ford had always been a rather clumsy kisser, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. It’s not like you minded either way.) You kissed him quick at first, pulling away too soon for both of your sakes. He tried to follow your mouth, eyes half lidded and mouth half open. You dodged him, and instead your lips followed the path of your fingers from earlier. You kissed under each of his eyes, then at the crows feet at their corners, his nose, each of his brows, and then both of his cheeks. 
“Darling,” Ford said, long suffering but a bit breathless already. You giggled, moving like you were about to kiss him again, but then you dipped to kiss his chin, then his jaw, dragging your lips across his stubble. It tingled. 
“Love,” Ford tried again, and you laughed again against his skin. 
“Yes?” you teased. “Do you need something, handsome?” 
Ford gave you a look that you were sure he thought said ‘you know exactly what I want’, but to you it just looked a little petulant and needy. You grinned at him. 
“Ask me,” you said, straightening his glasses for him as if they wouldn’t be askew again in a few moments. “What do you need?”
“.....For you to let me work,” he mumbled, but his gaze was squarely focused on your mouth. You tsked.
“Well, what I need is for you to sleep, Stanford.” you said. “So try again.” 
Ford looked pained for a moment, clearly unsure if he wanted to give in to your game or hold out in the hopes you would actually let him work. 
You wouldn’t agree to the latter, obviously, and he knew you better than that.
“Kiss me,” he finally said, the words barely audible over the machinery of his lab. You cupped a hand to your ear, leaning forward. 
“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked, and Ford scoffed. Still, he was smiling, just a slight quirk of his lips, and his eyes were crinkled at the edges. He could not hold a poker face for the life of him. You loved that. 
“Kiss me,” he said, louder. “Please.” 
“I suppose,” you said, but your immediate kiss betrayed your excitement. Ford had come such a long way in asking for what he wanted, it was hard not to give it to him. 
This kiss wasn’t quick, wasn’t meant to tease anymore. You put your hands on his shoulders for balance as you leaned in and kissed him. You felt one of his broad hands splay across your thigh and the other cupped your cheek. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone in an almost mechanical but comforting movement. 
Ford, for his part, kissed you with no less enthusiasm than earlier, but this time you allowed it. His tongue parted your lips and licked into your mouth, behind your teeth, across the roof of your mouth. You sighed into it and Ford let out a soft little moan. He’d always been so touch starved, so perfectly easy. You nipped at his tongue. One of your hands followed his shoulder up to his neck and you played with the baby hairs at the base of his skull. Everything in you wanted to pull them, so you did, delighting in the groan that escaped your lover. His hand left your thigh and played with the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it to spread his fingers against your stomach.
“Darling,” he gasped out, his lips kiss swollen and pupils blown. You bit your lower lip, smiling, hopelessly in love. 
In lieu of responding, you mirrored your earlier movement, pressing a thumb between Ford’s lips. He accepted it immediately, eyes fluttering shut as he licked and sucked at your finger. A muffled groan escaped him.
“Yessss?” you asked, hoping that he would get the hint from earlier and ask for more when-
Footsteps on the stairs. Ford paled. You squeaked, yanking your finger from his mouth. He looked momentarily bereft, but quickly tried to school his expression into neutrality. 
You didn’t know why it was the first instinct you had-You could have hidden behind one of the many machines in the lab, or simply pretended you were both only talking (though the blush on both of your faces would have betrayed you.) It wasn’t like everyone in the house didn’t already know that you and Ford were involved, but-
You slid to your knees, hiding under the desk.
Ford stared at you, incredulous, one bushy eyebrow raised, and you put a finger to your lips. You grabbed him by his knees and pulled the chair back in, effectively hiding you from view. Ford kept his legs spread to make room for you under the desk, but he was clearly tense. One of his boots tapped a nervous rhythm on the floor.
“Just find out what they want and we can get back to it,” you whisper, winking at him. 
“But-” Ford was cut off by Stanley opening the door, and you shrunk more under the desk. If Stanley found out about this, neither of you would ever hear the end of it. While that was better than Dipper or Mabel interrupting, the repercussions would certainly last longer and would show up over every meal, every conversation with Ford's smarmy younger brother. 
“Stanley,” Ford said, waving a hand at his twin. His voice was surprisingly level. 
“Hey, Pointdexter!” Stanley replied in that rasp of his. It seemed deeper than normal-maybe he was out smoking a cigar on the back porch recently. 
“What can I do for you?” Stanford asked, impatience coloring his tone, but Stanley was used to that. Ford got that way when he was deep in a project or a train of thought.
Stanley answered him, but to be honest, you had stopped paying attention because when you looked ahead towards Ford’s hips…Well. You knew he was easy but God. 
He already had a hard on. You could see the outline of it through his pants. From the little bit you had done to him. 
You bit back a smirk. How you loved this man. You put a hand on his knee, rubbing it with your thumb, and it probably would have been comforting if you didn't know he was so keyed up already. You rest your cheek on his opposite thigh, against his black pants, and the contact made him stutter. 
“S-Sorry, Stanley,” he said, waving it off, voice a bit clipped. “Just a bit tired. Nothing to worry about.” His other hand slipped under the desk and six fingers spread in your hair and pulled slightly in warning. 
You did not heed it. If anything, it spurred you on.
You grabbed his wrist, gently tugging, and Ford released your hair. Knowing him, he was worried he had hurt you. Far from it, you just had more devious plans in mind. 
Ford's hands had always been beautiful. You had thought so when you first met him, when you shook his hand and Mabel quipped something about how it was a “full finger friendlier than normal!” Ford had laughed then, shaking his head in that fond way you had later grown to recognize, and apologized for the strangeness of his handshake. Even then, when you'd barely known him, it had taken you aback. Why apologize for something so lovely?
As you'd grown closer, gotten together, his hands had only held more fascination for you. Those lingering touches on your shoulder or your elbow as he passed you in the hall, the first time you'd kissed and he had cupped your face with six fingers instead of five. It felt all the more encompassing. 
Even when you both had graduated to more…strenuous activities, even when you had fawned over his hands and begged for more of his fingers, he had paused. Apologized. Looked momentarily so far away. You had to fix that. 
You had been delighted to learn that you could quiet Ford’s insecurities about his hands when you took them in your mouth. 
So you did. You pulled Stanford's hand to your mouth and kissed each fingertip. Above you, his breath hitched, but he did not pull his hand away. Greedy. 
Good.  
You started with his pinky. You licked from the knuckle closest to his palm to his fingertip and then sucked on the end of it, pressed the length of your tongue across it. The short gray hairs on the back of his fingers tickled your lips. You gave him a moment to bask in the warmth of your mouth and then you moved to the next finger, then the next, when you took his two middle fingers into your mouth. 
Ford’s hips jerked up involuntarily. His feet planted flat on the floor and he lifted out of the chair for just a moment. You grinned around his fingers, dragging your teeth and tongue lightly across them, playing with them like you would his cock. His fingers twitched and flexed in your mouth, then pressed so far back you gagged. 
Ford yanked his hand away from you and you bit out a whine. He clasped both of his hands together on his lap, knuckles white, fingers slick with saliva, and you barely kept in a giggle.
Stanley said something about a specific tool that he was sure Ford had and he needed to borrow. You caught bits and pieces, so focused on your task of torturing the scientist you loved.
You leaned forward more, scooting forwards on the floor as close as you could get with the wheels of the chair in the way. You touched his hands and he recoiled, probably nervous about you continuing and him making a noise he could not hide from Stanley. With his hands ‘safely’ above the desk, your prize was revealed to you. 
You pressed a kiss to the bulge in his pants. You licked up the clothed length of him, the fabric rough against your tongue, but you knew that the light touch would drive Ford up a wall. 
You wished you could see his face.
You undid the button of his pants and took his zipper in your teeth as you heard Stanley's slippers slap against the floor and recede to the back of the lab. Stanford loudly mentioned “the red toolbox in the cabinet to the left” and then leaned forward to hiss
“What do you think you're doing?”
“I should think that's obvious,” you whispered after unzipping him. You grinned at him, all promise, your fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxers. “Ask me to stop. You know the safeword.”
Stanford's mouth hung open for a moment and them snapped closed with an audible click of his teeth. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. His jaw set and his cheeks colored. He took a deep, steadying breath through his nose. 
He did not ask you to stop. He did, however, level you with a look that spoke of payback and devotion all at once, then straightened back up to address Stanley. One of his hands found it's way into your hair again and his fingers combed through your hair until he got a hold in it. 
“Did you find it?” He asked, and you pulled the waistband of his underwear down to free his cock. It twitched a bit in the cooler air of the lab. Ford wasn't especially thick, but he was longer than average, with well groomed short gray curls at the base of him. You licked your lips and used the hand not still on his knee to smear precum across the head. 
Ford stiffened but didn’t make any noise. 
What a good boy. 
You leaned forward, licking the pre you spread from the tip of him, and then started at the base. You flattened your tongue against him, dragging it up his length and then off of him again. Your saliva cooled against his skin as you stared for a moment, gleeful. His fingers tightened in your hair. 
“Found it!” You heard Stanley shout from the back of the lab. He tripped over a box in his exclamation, stumbling and knocking some gadgets from their place. You could see Ford’s displeasure in your mind’s eye, so you took that moment to take him fully into your mouth. 
Ford made a sound like he had been punched, a low exhale of air layered with a groan. He bent over the desk slightly and his hips jerked up to meet your mouth. You took him deeper. He was warm against your tongue, hard and twitching. Your thumb kept soothing motions against his knee. 
“Hey, Sixer, you ok there?” Stanley asked, and Ford straightened. 
“Fine, fine, Stanley. Like I said, just tired. I'll be heading to bed soon,” Ford said, voice a bit strained.
Happiness bubbled in you at his admission, warring with arousal. 
“If you say so,” Stanley said. You pictured one of his bushy gray eyebrows climbed up into his hairline. “Thanks for the screwdriver-Mine doesn't have the bits anymore. I'll bring it back.” 
You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder on him, taking him deeper until you wanted to gag. You just wanted to feel him shake.
“No rush,” Ford said, which should have tipped Stanley off that something was wrong immediately. Ford always wanted his things back as soon as possible. “I know where you live, after a-ah-all.” 
Stanley chuckled, blessedly ignoring Ford’s slip, and his footsteps receeded back upstairs. The metal door to the lab shut with hopeful finality. 
“Fuck,” Ford gasped, and wheeled his chair back out of your reach. You whined at the loss and wiped your mouth with the back of your own hand. 
Stanford stumbled to his feet, pants barely hanging off his thighs, and moved towards the door. He flipped the heavy metal lock and looked back at you with the expression of a man starved. “I want to see you,” he said, and sat back in the chair with his legs spread. You raised an eyebrow at him and did not move from under the desk. “Please,” he added. “Please let me see you.”
Well. You wouldn't say no when he asked so nicely. 
“You're learning,” you teased as you slid forward on your knees to rest between his legs. “See what rewards you get when you're good?”
“Yes, I-Mnn,” Ford broke into a moan as you took him back in your mouth. You giggled, and the vibrations made him gasp. You looked up at him as you sucked, base to tip. His ears and his cheeks were a perfect shade of red. 
“Try again,” you said, smirking.
“I…I see,” he said, and rest a hand on your head almost reverently. “W-What I get when I'm g-aaah…!” 
You didn't let him finish. He looked too delicious, sounded too wrecked. Your sweet, sweet man. 
“Be a good boy,” you whispered as you stroked him. “Be good for me and cum.”
“S-Shit, I…I…” He actually whimpered. “Please, tell me…tell me I'm…” he trailed off, whether by embarrassment or pleasure you weren't sure. Either way. 
You kissed the tip of him again, tenderly, gazing up at him with all the love you had. Still, you needed him to say it. “Tell you you're what?” You ask, and run your fingertips lightly up the underside of his cock. He cursed, ears fully scarlet now, and gave you a molten look. 
“Please,” he started, and you're so so proud of him already. “Tell me I'm…” He trailed off, clearly fighting with himself. His pride, his self sabotage, his need to cum. The latter won out. He couldn't look at you. “...good. Please tell me I'm good.” His voice got a bit watery at the end and your expression softened. You pretended not to notice the tear that escaped and rolled down his cheek.
“Oh, my sweet, precious Ford. Of course you're good. So, so good.” And you took him back into your mouth, deep enough you could feel him in your throat, and swallowed around him. 
Stanford let out a filthy moan of your name as he came. His whole body curled over you, his thighs tensed and shook under your hands, and you watched his jaw go slack as he gasped and moaned through it. His hand tightened in your hair to the point of pain. You moaned around him and swallowed. You squirmed a bit where you sat, so unbelievably turned on by this man, and kept him in the warmth of your mouth. You sucked on his softening cock again, experimentally, and he gasped out a 
“Please…!”
He didn't pull you off of him and you didn't volunteer the movement, instead licking at his length with him still in your mouth. You dug your nails into his thighs through his slacks as he squirmed and looked up at him in rapt adoration as you shallowly bobbed your head.
Making him cum again was easy. He was already so sensitive, so shaky and pliant, begging out a chorus of pleasepleaseplease. All it took was a few more licks and a moan you let out around him. This orgasm was weaker, which was fine, because the whiney moan he let out was heaven. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and he squeezed them shut, unable to watch you any longer. His head fell back, resting against the back of the chair as he tried to remember his own name. You kept him in your mouth until he came down from it, keeping your head still this time, and he gently pulled you off by the hair. 
“You are…magnificent,” he whispered, ever the wordsmith. He cupped your face, memorizing your swollen lips, your hazy eyes, the flush of your cheeks, and you laughed. His head lolled a bit, the lack of sleep and the pleasure you'd given him stirring into the perfect cocktail to get him to bed. 
“I could say the same about you,” you counter, and you press a kiss to his fully soft length just to hear him gasp. You tucked him gingerly back into his pants, zipped and buttoned them, and stood, smoothing out his hair and fixing his crooked glasses. You kissed his forehead. “Now come on, my good boy. It's bed time.” 
“What about you?” He asked softly as you pulled him to his feet by one of his perfect hands. He looked towards your hips, suggestion in his tone and tired eyes, but then he swayed a bit. You pressed yourself to his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 
“What about me?” You asked, smiling up at him. No matter how much you wanted him, some things were more important. “Like I said earlier. All I needed was for you to come to bed.”
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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krakensdottir · 1 year
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The idea of Crowley previously being a very powerful angel and still carrying around shards of that power is just so delicious to me. I'm a sucker for characters who aren't at all what they used to be. Underdogs who were obviously once a Big Deal, and you can't see it most of the time, until some improbable bit of classified knowledge or mention of higher connections leaks out. Especially if they really don't like to talk about it or dwell on who they were, if for one reason or another, they want to leave it all in the past.
I have had a feeling about Crowley since season 1. His position on Hell's hierarchy is relatively low, so it's not immediately apparent at first. But things stood out. How he bends reality to his will without seeming to even think about it, sometimes even without realizing. He decides it would be funnier if the paint guns were real guns, but also makes sure no one actually gets shot. This seems to take no effort or concentration on his part; it's done almost offhandedly. Or how he drives the Bentley through a wall of fire, keeping it from falling apart by sheer determination, while the much higher-ranking demon in the seat next to him is discorporated in seconds. Almost as impressive is how he negotiates London traffic, which from what I've heard is a borderline miraculous feat normally, let alone at 90 miles per hour.
And of course, the time stopping. Something even Aziraphale apparently isn't capable of. Something that, with a particularly fierce effort, literally stops Satan in his tracks. The sort of power wielded by a cosmic engineer who once needed it to do his job - 'I helped build that one,' he says, eyes a little distant as stares at a picture of a nebula - and he still carries it with him, skulking around on Earth, far from the cosmos he helped to create. Having let go of most of the rest, even the memories of it, burying them with the person he used to be. He's changed who he is but he can't change what he is, and if you cracked open that lowly serpent, you'd be blinded by the starlight within.
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stealingyourbones · 3 months
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time to post the prompt I tormented @bloggerspam with on discord >:) Danny and Jason died at the same time and parts of their core jumped into each others cores, making them literal soulmates. They feel a burning tug deep in their chest ever since they got brought back to life, a desperate yearning, there’s some part of themselves that is missing. They feel hollow. After a bad coming out (as Phantom, not out of the closet) with his parents, Danny decides to follow that tugging sensation... all the way to Gotham City, where a certain crime lord also is yearning for something he can’t quite place. During the time Danny arrives in Gotham, the sense of yearning and hollowness strengthens in Jason. He doesn't know what's going on. His family is worried for him. Jason's new bedtime routine is gently rubbing a spot just to the right of his heart, silent tears running down his cheeks as he yearns for the touch of a person he's never met. It's confusing and frightening. All he knows is that the pain in his chest is now even stronger. The hollowness he's felt ever since he crawled his way out of his grave spreading past a sense of yearning and progressing to an agonizing longing. Jason tested himself for every type of Ivy's pollen and it came back negative. He doesn't know what's going on and he's scared. For Danny it's similar. The tug of his core is even stronger in Crime Alley. Every night he weeps holding his hands around his core feeling it softly cry for its other half. He knows they're nearby but he doesn't know how to pinpoint their location. All he can do is wait and hope that they stumble across each other. Danny decides to take action. He steals some of Vlad’s money and opens a coffee shop in the Narrows. Danny can feel the tugging so much stronger here. He hopes he can find what his core is looking for. Danny first meets this one extremely tired looking teen in a nice suit who always looks dead on his feet and asks for an ungodly amount of caffeine. Danny happily gives him the borderline toxic order. The man keeps on coming to his shop and they start to get to know each other. Unknowingly, Danny has become fast friends with a billionaire CEO. After multiple agonizing weeks, Tim brings his brother to the new shop that opened in his territory that sells incredibly good coffee for a concerningly low price... Danny is just working at his cafe on another average day when the door opens and in walks Tim and Him. A tall and built man with a white streak in his hair who's staring at Danny like he hung the stars in the sky.
The second their eyes locked,,, they felt whole. For the first time in years the yearning pain is no longer.
After meeting they realized a problem. It's genuinely agonizing being apart for more than a half an hour as their cores are finally healing from tearing themselves apart in their desperation to find their other half. This streamlines getting to know each other with the forced closeness. Tim helps Jason and takes over his patrols in Crime Alley as their cores mend. They found out that physical touch helps speed up the process greatly which meant the optimal way to speed up their cores healing was to sleep in the same bed.
During this time, both Danny and Jason's ghostly instincts are in overdrive. Danny and Jason both unknowingly are courting each other in a ghostly fashion and are unknowingly accepting the courting from each other, leading to an unintentional ghostly marriage (They aren't too freaked out about it when they figure out they're technically married according to Infinite Realms customs. It completes the mending of their cores after all.)
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gamblersdoll · 3 months
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izuku being a creep by taking way more notes about you. i mean, he writes notes about everyone and everything, but you? could be the most interesting thing you didnt even realize about yourself.
he could know about the beauty mark on your sternum, your back, or behind your ear. you wouldnt be able to know since you never really paid attention to that stuff.
or the fact that when it gets a tad bit humid, your hair curls or puffs up just a tad, and certain parts arent even. okay, you could know that, but the unevenness you wouldnt.
or maybe the fact that you smell of faint strawberry fanta, (it being your bodywash.) okay, that was a bit weird. because only you are in your bathroom. maybe it was just the fragrance was potent.
what threw you off was when he left his notes open, giving you access to look through them. (he permitted you to have access since you needed them for class.) yet, he knows what panties you wear, and how the smell after you wear them.
your heart lurches into your throat.
“no foul odor, unlike some. distance of smell of sweat and fabric. its a nice sweat-musk smell!” its written, okay. maybe it wasnt about you, but definitely someone. this was borderline creepy, so you switch to the next page.
“y/n’s bra’s smell like sweat and a fruity scent after a hard day’s work. maybe its her perfume, but it smells so good.” your eyes read, swallowing thickly and biting the inside of your cheek.
what the fuck was izuku saying? theres no way he was a peeping tom, this had to be a set up for him.
little did you know, he had been watching you shower for a good couple on months. he loves the way soap trails down your skin, onto the hood of your clit and down your lips.
he loves the way the soap gets a sheer of your plump asscheeks, watching you take your washcloth and cleanse the area and cheeks. he has to bite his knuckles to not moan, to not growl and give himself away. he tried so hard to not bust in and bend you over.
he loves the fact you also go commando.. alot. loves how you have your own pair of boxers to let your pretty cunt breathe— or just not wear panties to bed. he also loves how grumpy you get on the days before, or during your period.
god, those days make him go crazy. he tries to not take you and rub your body into his form.
and what else makes him crazy? ovulation. you get the need to breed, to be fucked so relentlessly to where you need to be dumbified.
he knows way too fucking much, considerably the fact that he has more eyes and ears than anyone knew.
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norris55s · 4 months
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the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc
a reader x charles leclerc & arthur leclerc love triangle, pt. 2
pt. 1
warnings: none other than angst?
a/n: a million years later here is part 2 but it’s not over ladies and gentlemen! i hope it doesn’t suck lol. part 3 will come. also i’ve now added charlotte siné as the fc for practical purposes!
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Day 4
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As I opened the door, terrified at who I was going to see behind it, I met Charles’ bloodshot eyes staring daggers into mine.
“Y/N, let’s talk, please. I screwed up, but let me explain,” he quickly said before I could even mutter a word.
I was still as speechless as I had been last night. Without a word, I moved aside to let him in my room, but he shook his head and insisted on talking to me at the beach. I just obliged, trying my best to be quiet around the house so as to not wake anyone up.
As soon as we arrived on the shore, Charles invited me to sit down and I once again just obliged. My heart was pounding on my ears and I felt like it would jump out of my body at any second.
“I feel like I should start at the beginning,” Charles said, while I looked to the sea instead of looking at him.
“I’ve always loved you. There has always been something about you that comforts me and makes me happy. I just didn’t realize how deep it went until last summer, when I realized that you kissing Antoine ruined the entire season for me.”
I tried to recall any reaction from Charles when I hooked up with Antoine last year that could’ve been a sign, but I found nothing in my memories. I was too busy sulking over the fact that he didn’t and would never like me, but I had been proved wrong 365 days later. The words were in my head but they didn’t make sense. Why would Charles Leclerc like me, much less love me?
“I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to think nothing of it, I’ve tried to deny it and it’s been no use.”
The irony of me doing the same thing for years was not lost on me. How I have pined for years not realizing he spent some of that time feeling the same way was borderline funny.
“Will you please look at me?” Charles asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, making it impossible for me to deny his request even if I knew any resolve or strength I had left in me would evaporate the minute my eyes met his.
The butterflies in my stomach felt like a swarm of wasps, and I’m sure the blush in my face evidenced it. Charles’ green eyes, the object of all my hidden wishes for as long as I could recall, stared into mine looking to decipher my emotions.
I wished I could say he found nothing but love, but in between all those beautiful feelings of loving and being loved in return, I could still sense a wretched feeling of disappointment.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” a stronger voice than expected called him out. All this time he had to know I felt the same way, but he let me believe there wasn’t a chance in hell he could care about me beyond a friendship.
“It took me too long to even understand it. Even then, I couldn’t justify changing your life on a crush, or hurt you and ruin it all. I still don’t know if I can justify it, but I know I can’t stand it anymore. I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t, or that you don’t love me too.”
When I searched into his eyes, all I could find was sincerity. And it was enough for me to jump into the deep end, leaning closer to him in hopes he would initiate the kiss I’ve desperately wanted for far too much time.
He granted my wishes, placing both of his hands on my neck to connect our lips. It was just like I imagined it.
Soft, passionate, unrushed, warm. I felt the fireworks that everyone speaks of go off in my head, and I just knew Charles felt them too.
As we pulled away to breathe, struggling to even think of ever separating me from him ever again, Charles smiled brightly.
“Can you say you love me too, mon cœur?” he asked so prettily I could coo at him.
“I love you, Charles Leclerc,” I obliged, because how could I say no to him?
“And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he replied, smiling even bigger, and kissing me even better.
Our bubble of a newfound love lasted a while, but was eventually meant to break when I received a text from Arthur.
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The conversation about Arthur with Charles wasn’t the hard part at all. The older brother brushed the kiss off as a drunken mistake, and was a little too confident on who my choice would be.
The conversation about Charles with Arthur would be the hard part, and I didn’t even have time to settle down in my bed after the rollercoaster of emotions I had just gone through when Arthur barged in.
He looked happy to see me, and it broke my heart.
In trying to find the words to say I couldn’t be with him, and before I could mutter them, he hugged me.
“I’ve been trying to find you all this time, where have you been chérie?” Arthur smiled, but it quickly faded once he realized my energy wasn’t the same.
“Arthur…”
“Chérie, don’t say it was a mistake because you know it wasn’t. Fuck my brother, you know that this is right.”
“I’m so sorry…” I began and pushed back further away from him, as if my next words would hurt him any less because of it. “Charles and I spoke, and we have realized our feelings for each other…” I looked down, cowardly, unable to face his reaction. “You know I’ve loved him forever and I am just so sorry for leading you on.”
Like it always happened between us, I didn’t have to look at him, and he didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that we were done.
He stormed out of the room.
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charles_leclerc added to his stories
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y/ninstagram added to her close friends stories
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arthur_leclerc added to his stories
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terrythemerry · 10 months
Text
I just watched Wish (2023) and it made me realize something kind of sad about Disney’s treatment of villains.
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So Disney has a long history of villainy from the OG Evil Queen who is willing to murder a girl just for being pretty to the misguided like Auto thinking he’s protecting humanity in Wall-E. They are mean, jealous, prideful, vain, and many relish in just being the worst of the worst. However every now and then we get a glimpse of more complexity. Zootopia’s Bellwether dealing with years of racism and mistreatment, Gantu trying to stop what he thinks is a monster in Lilo and Stitch, Up’s Muntz being a heroic explorer before paranoia consumed him, etc. The thing that makes me sad about these villains is that not one of them has ever had a chance at redemption or change in Disney’s eyes and nowhere is that sadder to me than their latest villain, King Magnifico.
(Spoilers below)
King Magnifico is the magical founder of a utopian society that accepts people of all races, religions, and backgrounds. Who created this wonderful place after what is heavily implied to be a violent invasion destroyed his homeland when he was but a child. This past trauma led him to study magic and become a powerful sorcerer so that nothing could hurt him or the people he cared about ever again. His magic is a protection that he extends to all who choose to live in the city. The city is vibrant with a colorful community full of artisans, musicians, and dancers. He takes no taxes from them, but does take their one true wish upon joining this society.
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When given these wishes it is understood that he will ensure their safety and possibly grant them one day. Something important to note about the physical manifestations of the wishes is that they give off a warm and comforting aura as they represent some of the purest parts of a person’s soul. Magnifico has been surrounding himself with this magical comfort for a very very long time by himself and I don’t think it’s unfair to say he has become addicted to their presence. The wishes are giving him a magical comfort through the kind souls within them, a feeling he could’ve probably also gotten if he had spent more time with his people.
It doesn’t look like he ever really got the chance to commune with his people properly because somehow the society kicked off on his wish granting abilities. People had to give him their wishes if they wanted them granted and eventually the ones that he couldn’t grant in good conscience or out of fear started adding up so he began locking them away. Keeping them safe so no harm came to the people. The rare occasions that anyone else interacts with these wishes is during wish granting ceremonies that the people are borderline rabid for. With good reason, it is their souls they’re thirsting for after all even if they don’t really know it.
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However, Magnifico clearly doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as he’s given these people a wonderful safe haven from the horrors of the outside world where they can be whoever they want to be, do what they want to do, make what they want to make, and still all they see in him is a tool to fastpass to something else they want even more than the peace he’s given them.
This is clearly shown early on, before any of his evil behavior starts to take root, in relation to his assistants. We get a expo dump after the first song telling us that Asha wants to become one of his assistant to increase the odds of her grandfather’s wish being granted as there is a correlation between past assistants and having wishes granted. Something important here is that there have clearly been many assistants, suggesting that it’s a revolving door position without really explaining why. Who would want to keep finding assistants over and over again, when really you should find someone who could do the job long term right? Well we get to find out the likely reason when Asha steps up for the role.
When Asha comes to interview for his assistant position he sees she is nervous, he tries to calm her down, and he even manages to relate to her through fond memories of her kindly father who he clearly knew. After seeing her true resolve to do good he decides to trust her with something few people in the entire kingdom get to see, the vault of wishes. To which Asha doesn’t even hesitate to ask, after politely being told not to prior, if he’ll grant her grandfather’s wish.
Magnifico is blatantly stricken by her request, sadly remarking that most people at least wait a few months before doing so a.k.a pretend to be interested in helping him rather than trying to use him to grant a wish. This is likely why the assistant job is a revolving door. Magnifico tries to find someone who he thinks will truly and selflessly fulfill the role only to discover time and again that people are just using it to get direct access to him to ask for a wish. Then he can’t trust their true intentions anymore and moves them along.
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After Asha makes her request he does take the time to look at her grandfather’s wish but dismisses it as too dangerous because it is the vague desire to inspire the next generation. Clearly we as the audience know that her grandfather means to inspire them to do good, but we have to remember Magnifico has seen the worst of society. He has seen the darkest wishes and desires of mankind and survived them. He brushes Asha off telling her she’s too young to understand, which is honestly true. She’s lived her entire life cloistered in peace and comfort thanks to him and the rules he has made. She has never had to know war, strife, or hardship thanks to him, yet she doubts his decision without understanding the trauma that guides it. This is what I believe pushes Magnifico into his villain arc, something that I don’t think we’ve ever really witnessed in a Disney movie.
Usually a villain already is the villain by the time the film rolls around, even the twist villains. Lotso had already been deliberately sentencing other toys to torture. Prince Hans was already planning to murder his way to a throne. Evelyn was already plotting her revenge. Magnifico wasn’t though. He was the hero. He had saved his wife and a whole city’s worth of people from whatever drove them from the mainlands. He wasn’t physically abusing/mistreating people like Gaston even if he was vainly basking in their adoration.
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When Asha pushes him on the wishes he pulls back from her, identifying her in his mind as a threat and treats her as one. He dismisses her and tells her that her family’s wishes will never be granted by him, but he will still keep them safe as he has been doing. Essentially meaning nothing will change for her from what it has been. You know a happy loving existence of complete acceptance and wholesome family life or as Asha interprets it, a fate worse than death.
His interaction with Asha triggers him, as she’s pushed at the flaws in his reasoning for holding onto the wishes. The flaws are true, but his mind is clouded by fear of a lack of control, likely stemming from the horrors he witnessed in his childhood when he had no control. He also likely has a bit of an addiction to the warm fuzzies that the wishes give on top of his fears. While he’s ruminating on that some massive wave of magic blows through the kingdom and messes with the thing he’s already stressed beyond reason about, the wishes.
Magnifico frantically searches for any answer, even considering a dangerous tome of forbidden magic that he knows is trouble before his wife manages to talk him down.
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The fact that he could even be talked down rather than ignoring her outright shows that Magnifico does have good in him. He’s just reacting out of a genuine panic. His panic is only worsened by huge mob continuing to beg him for wishes in exchange for doing what should be the selfless act of defending their kingdom from what is essentially perceived as an attack. Not having any faith left in his people he turns back to the evil book to give him the key to stopping this perceived attack.
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Just to be clear King Magnifico goes to the big bad evil book not to gain more power for funsies, but to try to find a way to stop a perceived threat. Everything he does from this point on, such as threatening his wife, can no longer be fairly tied to him, because as the movie repeatedly tells us he is under the EVIL book’s influence. His wife even looks through the same book to try and see if there is a way to break the sway she knows it has over him, but says she can’t because the EVIL book said no.
Yada yada yada and Magnifico is sealed inside a magic mirror and smugly told to rot in the dungeon by his previously loving wife.
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Seriously?! What the heck?! This guy was the perfect candidate for rehabilitation. He wasn’t flawless, but he wasn’t a murderous psycho like most of the other Disney villains. Disney loves to preach kindness, acceptance, and good will with their heroes, but never does it allow the message of change.
I was shocked going back through the catalogue and slowly realizing none of their villains, regardless of how tragic their origins are, are ever truly allowed a second chance. The hero may offer it, but the baddy never is truly expected to change or reform. Which is honestly super messed up to me. People make mistakes. Some can be small/insignificant, but some are big and do hurt people sometimes. That doesn’t mean they can’t change for the better.
Now I’m not saying every villain is redeemable or good, it’s just a bit surprising that for all the messages of kindness and acceptance we haven’t really gotten forgiveness in 100 years. Seeing the “bad guy’s punishment” just deeply bothered me this time. Probably because so much of the bad that Magnifico does is clearly a trauma response and as a punishment for not acting appropriately to said response he gets sentenced to eternity is magical cell.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 7 months
Text
Finally Getting Help (prt 8)
Masterpost
The next day was less chaotic but not by much. They had to go through everything they’d taken from the Fenton’s lab, and reluctantly accepted Danny and Jazz’s help with the task because they were familiar with the tech. That was surprisingly needed since all of their gadgets were extremely obtuse and looked like household appliances. It was honestly surprising how good Danny was with all of this stuff, he knew what everything was, how to take it apart and how to put it back together to show the heroes how it worked. 
“They don’t all work for humans. Some have to be fueled with ectoplasm so they need to be constantly refueled. Dad used to wear a backpack full of the stuff ghost busters style but that’s really not practical so this one isn’t very useful to you. I can use it though,” Danny said as he screwed the last part back on the.. Whatever it was. 
“Okay, but why does it look like a blender?” Tim asked, baffled and impressed.
“Oh that’s because that’s what it was built out of,” Danny said with a crooked smile. “We repurposed a lot of household items into tech. Give me a couple toasters and a microwave and I’ll have three specter deflectors ready for you before dinner time.” He said as he pressed his hand against one of the gins and it started glowing intently green.
“Here don’t drop it,” He said tossing it to Batman, who did manage to catch it. “I fueled it with three shots, just in case Vlad shows up or another ghosts threatens you. And actually even with your charms I would feel a lot better if you all had specter deflectors since you’re all involved with me now,” He sighed and rubbed his face. 
“Well… we can get you toasters and a microwave but we can also get you more advanced parts if those will work better,” Bruce told Danny, gingerly holding the odd gun away from himself. It wasn’t a traditional gun so it wasn’t upsetting but he still didn’t like it. 
Danny looked very tempted but he shook his head. “No I’d better do it with what I know, I can get it done faster that way and they work. I’d love to play with some of those more advanced parts though. I’m sure I can come with some fun stuff.” 
Uh oh, Bruce didn’t like that look on Tim’s face, the last thing he needed was more encouragement! But Danny was the child of mad scientists, he would get along perfectly with Tim, Bruce was going to have to keep a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t accidentally make a death ray. 
“You can join me in my lab later,” Tim offered hopefully and Danny glanced up at him with a borderline feral grin. 
“That sounds great, I’m sure you have much better lab safety than my parents. Love engineering, would hate to die a second time.” He said it like a joke, just the way Jason tended to. Jazz laughed, but only to encourage her brother’s coping method, no one else did. 
“Alright, we’ll go to the nearest home appliance store and get you some toasters and microwaves,” Bruce said. 
“Hell ya, I should have been adopted by a rich family years ago,” Danny cackled. Oh dear, he’d been so traumatized yesterday Bruce hadn’t realized he was Feral. Why did this keep happening.
He informed Alfred of Danny’s request and by the time they finished going over the more confusing inventions and left for lunch the appliances were waiting for Danny in the lab that he and Tim would apparently now be sharing. Danny immediately dove on the machinery starting to take them apart with practiced hands. He seemed calm and in his element but Tim stayed to supervise, both just in case something went wrong, and because it was His lab and they hadn’t talked about rules of cohabitation yet.
Bruce left them to it. Alfred had informed him that Jason had arrived and headed straight to the kitchen without saying hello to anyone else. It wasn’t a surprise, he was closest to Alfred, he’s want to help with making dinner, and get the basic scoop from his most trusted family member before having to face anyone else. Bruce knew better than to intrude on that, but God did he want to. 
Regardless of what his children thought Bruce cared deeply for all of them, and he hated that sometimes they doubted it. He wished he was better at telling and showing them, but he’d managed to convince himself it was too late for him to change so he didn’t have to face the years of mistakes and trauma he had endured and inflicted. No matter what what image he tried to project, he was still only human.
He went to his office, but he couldn’t settle to anything, he did a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and just ended up pacing the carpeted floor. He left them alone as long as he could before he gave in and went down to the kitchen.
“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed a cup of coffee,” He said as casually as he could. The looks Alfred and Jason gave him said neither of them actually believed his excuse, which was fair. “It’s good to see you Jaylad, thanks for coming.”
“Well I’m not going to miss out on a new brother am I? You gonna have this one running around in spandex too B?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, it made Bruce wince but it Was progress because he was acknowledging their familial ties. 
“I’m almost two years too late to stop him,” Bruce said regretfully. “It’s been… a lot has happened. I’m sure Alfred caught you up on most of it, but I’d like to talk to you before you meet either of the siblings.”
“Trying to make sure I won’t be a bad influence?” Jason asked and Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing. 
“No, nothing like that,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “I just want to talk.”
Jason hummed skeptically, scrutinizing Bruce before turning back towards Alfred. “What do you think Alfie, can you spare me?”
“I always appreciate your help master Jason, but I can manage on my own,” Alfred assured, sounding amused. 
“Alright, to your office then?” Jason asked, turning back towards Bruce. 
“Or the sitting room, whichever would be more comfortable.”
“Office,” Jason said firmly, this was the distance that he was keeping between them. They worked together now, and Jason cared for his siblings, but he kept them all at arms length. For everyone’s safety really, if they set him off he didn’t want to hurt them, and he didn’t want to be set off either. It always felt like shit. Jason followed Bruce to the office and sprawled in the soft chair across the desk from Bruce’s. He remembered being a kid, sitting properly and nervously in this chair across from Bruce hoping desperately for his approval. How times change.
“I just wanted to talk to you about the new kids” Bruce started and Jason waved him away.
“I’m really not going to corrupt them or anything, I Probably won’t be around enough to make a difference anyway.” Jason said dismissively.
Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his expression and folding his hands on the table. “That’s not it Jaylad, Alfred must have told you that the boy died and came back?” 
Jason tensed and green swirled in his vision, it was the same thing that Bruce had seen in Danny when Zatana asked about Phantom. “Ya he did.” Defensive and insecure.
“It seems like he, and his sister who was sort of a caretaker to him, know a lot more than we do about the effect that that has on a person. To help us take care of Danny she gave us a presentation about it, it… makes a lot of sense. You should probably talk to her and Danny about it really but I just wanted to apologize. 
“I’ve been trying to fix this, fix… you for a long time and I know I’ve been going about it wrong and I’ve been hurting you.”
“You got a new treatment plan in mind, old man?” Jason asked, his arms crossed and Bruce wished that mistrust wasn’t earned. 
“No,” Bruce sighed looking down. “Really Jason I don’t, I know I was wrong. This is something I just didn’t know I didn’t know about,” He hated his own ignorance, he hated to admit it! He was Batman! The way he kept up with other superheroes was always being prepared for everything and knowing more than everyone around him, but he hadn’t even known there was something there to know!
“This isn’t about that, and it’s not about you staying away from the new kids. Exactly the opposite actually, since they know more about this, and Danny might be one of the few people who really understands what it’s like to die and come back like that, I was hoping you’d spend more time here, around them. I think it might help you both.”
“Huh,” Jason sounded, blinking rapidly because that was the most sincere apology he’d gotten from Bruce and he didn’t quite know how to react to it. “Maybe… maybe.” He hadn’t met the new siblings yet after all, maybe they’d hate each other. 
“Can I meet them now?” He asked looking back up at Bruce curiously. 
“Of course, the girl's name is Jasmine Fenton, called Jazz, the boy goes by Danny. Jazz is turning 18 soon, Danny is 16.” 
Right Tim had mentioned that, so Danny was about 3 years younger than him then. That shouldn’t matter too much, and maybe Tim will be right about the sister and can tease Jason about it. He’d been single for a while and wouldn’t mind changing that.
“Of course, I think you should meet Jazz first, she’s protective of Danny and she hasn’t been very involved in all of this. I think she’d feel better being allowed to… vet you first for lack of a better word. Are you okay with that?” Bruce asked Jason politely. 
“Sure, I don’t really care what order I meet them in and… Look Bruce I know I’m mad at you, and I was really hard on Timmy when everything was still raw. But I’m never going to knowingly hurt a kid, or make life harder for them. If I can help them I will,” Jason said sincerely. 
“Jason, the girl is less than a year younger than you. You’re a kid too,” Bruce said sadly. Jason froze for a moment, Yes he was 19, his mind wasn’t fully developed yet or whatever the hell, but he hadn’t felt like a kid since his death. Even before that, the responsibility for his mother, and then the work as a hero. Bruce wanted soldiers, Jason had never gotten a chance to be a kid really.
“Whatever,” Jason scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up, closing himself off from that sincerity. “Do you know where she is?”
“She’s in the library,” Bruce said, his lips twitching up in a smile. “She loves books almost as much as you did, though she seems to be more drawn to non-fiction.” 
Jason hummed and nodded, heading towards the door since he knew his own damn way to the library, Bruce didn’t have to lead! He did follow through, he was clearly protective of these kids so of course he would want to be there when Jason met them.
When he entered the library he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables with some sort of text book. Her back was straight and her legs tucked under the chair with her ankles crossed. It looked like she was self consciously trying to look put together. She looked up at them, blue green eyes looking him over critically, he could practically see her picking him apart in her mind and he tried not to fidget.
“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason Todd,” He said, walking over and offering her his hand to shake. She was very pretty, but he was surprised by his own complete lack of attraction, she just didn’t register that way, she seemed more… maternal almost.
“Ah, the dead son,” She chuckled, getting up from the table and reaching out to shake his hand, her grip was strong and her hands were soft and cool. “It’s nice to meet you, they mentioned you. Nothing bad,” She added when she saw her face. “And I don’t mean to be rude, I know some people are sensitive about their deaths being mentioned. Danny jokes about it all the time so… I just wanted to let you know that I know, and I accept you.” Jazz said with a warm smile. 
Her easy acceptance caught him off guard and before he could help it he was baring his teeth at her in a snarl, defensive and probing, did she mean it? She grinned sharper bearing sharp fangs at him in a matching sign of… friendly aggression, something inside him settled. He chuckled and took a step back. “Well thanks, nice to meet someone who doesn’t look like they bit a lemon every time I make a death joke.”
“It’s your death, as long as it’s healthy you can own that however comes naturally to you,” Jazz promised, sitting back down at the desk. “I’d love to talk more and get to know you, but we can do that later. You really should meet Danny.”
“You don’t want to come with us,” Bruce broke in, sounding worried. Jason had almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t realized how… all encompassing the short interaction had been.
“I’ll probably follow,” Jazz said with a shrug, her gaze turning stern as she looked at Bruce. “Remember what I said about never breaking up a fight,” She told him firmly. 
Well if that didn’t make Jason nervous he didn’t know what did. Why would he fight with Danny? Would Danny fight with him? Why? “You really think it’s a good idea for us to meet? Why would we fight?” Jason asked her sharply.
“Of course,” she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked back at him, though her expression remained a little mischievous. “It’ll be good for both of you.”
Next
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saksukei · 1 year
Text
saving simon ghost riley’s life
masterlist | angst, injury mentions, he's being a bitch
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they say some instincts are good, some are bad. yours have landed you in hell though.
being part of task force 141 had its own perks which included borderline deadly missions, a whole lot of adrenaline and a shit ton of risk taking. so that's exactly what you did when you saw a gun aimed at your lieutenant, more specifically, simon ghost riley.
you jumped in front of the gun without any hesitation, disobeying his orders to stay put. he was your senior, someone you definitely respected and looked up to. you were absolutely okay with letting yourself get injured for him. something about loyalty, right?
“a word, sergeant,” he interrupted your train of thought, his presence overwhelming the nurses present in the med bay as they stitched your wound.
“yes sir?” you thought he was gonna thank you for saving his life. apparently, he had other plans.
“who gave you the fucking right to disobey my orders?” he growls, his eyes piercing through your very soul. you imagine what it would be like if he didn't have his mask on, the very mask that is acting as a shelter from his rage.
you blink in confusion. “i beg your pardon, sir?”
“i said, who gave you the right to disobey my orders?” he repeated, his tone stern.
“i–sorry lieutenant,” you reply curtly, confused at his rude behavior. but then again, simon isn't known for his niceness.
“sorry isn't going to cut you the slack,” he retorts, voice laced with venom. “you are going to be reprimanded for failing to comply with your superior’s orders to stay put.”
and while you desperately want to argue, give him an explanation or maybe yell at him that you did save his life, you ignore and nod.
“i don’t hear a reply sergeant,” his voice booms.
“affirmative sir.”
with that he walks out.
the next couple of days are hell. rather than being treated like someone of your rank, the lieutenant decides to treat you like a rookie, making you run almost triple the amount of drills, ignoring the fact that you’ve had an injury.
when captain price decides to finally intervene on your behalf, he promptly replies about how insubordination must be set straight and that he's doing this his own way. soap and kyle both also try to intervene, but they can't seem to change the lieutenant’s mind.
you don't seem to fight it either, just silently accepting whatever task he's given. you know that there's really no room for disagreement given your current circumstances.
today he had pushed you too much though. drained, as you went back to your room, collapsing on whatever shit excuse of a bed you had. you couldn't even get up. the three firm and calculated knocks you heard on your door made you groan. who the hell was it at this ungodly hour?
“come in,” you yell out.
and in walks the man you've been dreading to see the most. the lieutenant himself.
you immediately stand up and salute him, ignoring the pain your body is in.
“at ease,” he mutters, as you sit down on your bed. the air is awkward between you to say the least, but boy does it get worse, when the lieutenant kneels and lowers himself right at your feet.
“what the hell–lieutenant?” you question.
“quiet,” he orders, his tone stern. you have no choice but to comply and watch, as he takes out a bandage from his side pocket. “your feet are bruised,” he mutters. why was he acting like he didn't know the reason? that he had been making you run triple the amounts you normally do.
“permission to say something grossly insubordinate sir?” you ask, trying to control your seething anger. what the fuck is his problem?
he nods.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell and it catches him off guard, his warm green eyes meeting yours. “first you punish me for saving your life, make mine a literal hell and then you come in here and act like you care?” your voice raises without you even realizing.
he sighs. he doesn't have a response. you're right. he has been in the wrong but he didn't intend to punish you that far. it just sort of happened. he was so angry, not with your disobedience of course, but because of the fact that he had missed a corner and let you get hurt. he was at war with himself on this one.
so simon does what he does best, ignore your anger filled speech and continues bandaging your feet.
“s–stop it,” you try and push him away. he doesn't budge and you feel yourself reduced to tears. when he does look up and see your eyes coated with them, he stops and says words he hasn't said to anyone in years.
“m’ sorry,” he admits, softly. tears begin to slide down your face, no matter how much you try and hold them back.
and out of instinct, simon reaches out. for the first time, simon riley scoops up someone into his arms, rubbing your back, muttering a thousand apologies for his behavior. god, it would be better if you had let him get shot that day, than seeing you cry like this.
he had made you cry.
“m’ really sorry,” he whispers in your ear. “i was just so upset that you got hurt because of my stupidity, sweetheart,” he tries to explain but his persona is crumbling. he's been so unmerciful to you. “i was wrong, so wrong for doing this,” he repeats again. how could he be so rude to someone he loves so dearly?
he keeps you in his arms. his hand, running through your hair, with his gloves long discard at the side.
you mutter something about how bad it is for you to be crying in the arms of your lieutenant and he tuts, saying that firstly, you should call him simon, and secondly, you can cry as much as you want.
you’re the only one he wants in his arms anyway.
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hxnbi · 6 months
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「 FALLING FOR YOU 」
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synopsis: who fell first and who fell harder
characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuta
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ITADORI YUJI ➽ he fell first, and he fell harder
Let's be honest, this poor boy has gone through so much. And to have someone who reciprocates his feelings? He felt like he was on cloud nine when he learned that you thought the same thing; "I love you too, Yuji." So much so that he made you repeat it again and again until he was forcefully pulled away by Megumi and Nobara, as you were too overwhelmed by Yuji's... several confessions?—practically busy exploding in joy yourself to configure another thought.
Nothing in the entire world could be better than being with you for the rest of his life, and he made sure that you knew that there were no doubts.
Whatever or whenever it was, Yuji was at your beck and call. You may as well have compared him to a golden retriever-like boyfriend, because that was exactly what it was. He was so incredibly touched that you reciprocated his feelings, so much so that he wanted you to know for sure that he was devoted to you and only you. And in that regard, he indeed succeeded.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ➽ you fell first, and you fell harder
No one, not Gojo, Yuji, Nobara, or even yourself—would've ever expected you to fall in love with such an aloof person, that person being the stone that is Fushiguro Megumi. Something that intrigued you from the moment you met him. It was shocking, and honestly, even refreshing, to see Megumi smiling. His stoic demeanour in saying practically anything, regardless of its seriousness, and his piercing, borderline terrifying gaze hid a plethora of emotions beneath that impassive tone of his, and try as you might, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him.
But as much as Megumi loved you, he also kept his distance from you. And that pained you to think that perhaps Megumi really didn't care about you as much as you thought—that is, until you realized the reason for why. He just didn't want you to be in danger. He tried to keep you far away from him, but for that reason alone, you found yourself falling harder and harder for the boy who had captured your heart. All that he did, the danger that he put himself under, was for you. And before you even knew it, you found yourself hopelessly in love with the person who had now become the centre of your world.
GOJO SATORU ➽ you fell first, and he fell harder
At first, it was just a tiny crush. Perhaps even a little more. Because, let's be real, who wouldn't be at least somewhat attracted to the strongest sorcerer? At first, that's what you thought. There was no way that someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru would pay attention to an average sorcerer like yourself, right? Wrong.
As Utahime and Megumi would say with utter conviction, Gojo can be an arrogant bastard at times. He's aloof, confident, and charismatic, but he's also just an individual—just an everyday human being. You were the one who truly understood him. You loved him for who he was—not for superficial reasons the rest of his world saw, but because he was a guy whose heart was genuine.
And he found himself falling for you, truly. He found himself loving and appreciating every part of you. To have someone so genuine, so open, unlike him, forced to view himself as merely "the strongest." He felt as though he could be weak around you. He fell hard for you and only you, and that would never change. Anything less would be a betrayal of your love.
OKKOTSU YUTA ➽ he fell first, and you both fell harder
I'd like to think that Yuta, for sure, has thoughts that he doesn't deserve to have you. So he stares from a distance. Everything that he did, the life that he lived, was cursed to a degree that nobody saw when he dared to acknowledge. He thought that you didn't deserve that. But even as he muttered those words to you that day, you looked at him—not with fear, not with disgust, not even with pity, but with sympathy and love.
His vulnerability, even when he was at his lowest, was undeniable. But that made you even more determined to help him—to be that person that Yuta could, for once in his life, lean on without reservation. His timid yet endearing personality drew you in, despite the darkness that surrounded him. But, unbeknownst to you, he had already fallen for you.
Yuta was enthralled, captivated—enchanted even—by all the kindness you showed him from the very moment he laid eyes on you. The way you would act like he was just an average person, regardless of the circumstances. He loved you for who you were, and you were the same.
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©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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juniperdugong · 3 months
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Creature Double Feature - S.coups
fluff - wc, 902
idol!scoups x gn!reader
NOT PROOFREAD
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You and Seungcheol have been dating for just about 3 months now. Although, with his job occupying an annoying amount of his time it's felt more like 1 month. The upside to this though is that you are still in the midst of your cutesy honeymoon phase.
Getting embarrassed of quick kisses and still feeling nervous when holding hands. Sure you hadn't been physical, you hadn't even spent a night at his place, but the pace never seemed to bother Seungcheol so it never bothered you.
In fact, you hadn't even begun to think about all of this... until tonight.
One of your coveted movie date nights with Cheol. He'd go to your place or you'd go to his, it'd take you guys forever to pick a movie, once you did you would snuggle up against each other, and at the end of the night, you would part ways with a kiss. That's how it was; how it always was.
Tonight was special, it would be the last night you were able to spend together before Cheol headed off to Japan for tour and subsequently, he would be missing your 4-month anniversary. You've told him that he doesn't need to celebrate every little milestone but he insists that they're all important. And although he's never told you outright it also gives him a chance to show how much you mean to him amongst his schedule which gets busier and busier.
So, in solemn early celebration, it was a creature double feature! Aka, you both agreed on watching Monsters Inc. and Monsters University back to back. A decision partially made off of an argument of which film was better.
Now, halfway through Monsters University, your eyes began to droop. Currently splayed out like a blanket on top of Cheol, your head resting on his chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart setting the tempo for a lullaby in which the lyrics were whatever Mike and Sulli were saying on screen.
"Hey, you okay?" Cheol's voice cuts the melody.
"Hmm?" Eyes heavy you look up and see a concerned but loving smile on his face.
"You haven't said anything in 15 minutes, you always have something to say when we're watching a movie."
"Sorry, I'm just getting a bit sleepy." A yawn escapes you mid-sentence which in turn makes Seungcheol yawn, a testament to your closeness.
"We can stop for tonight, I'll bring you back to-"
"It's okay, Cheol..." You dig your face deeper into his chest, borderline motor-boating the man.
"Babe?" he's looking at you in confusion as you cling to his body tighter.
"Yes?"
"I can take you home-"
"Just a few more minutes like this, Cheolie..." Your voice drags out in exhaustion. He pats your head in silent agreement. As you drift all those thoughts come to mind, and embarrassment rises in you, but the hand on your head gives you solace. This was the perfect pace for the 2 of you.
10 minutes later and you're fully passed out. A light snore alerts Cheol to your state and he chuckles to himself, adjusting the blanket to fall on top of both of you. His hand goes to rest on the small of your back and subconsciously he matches his breathing to yours.
He just stares at your sleeping figure in complete adoration and contentment, cursing the tour for stripping moments like this away from him for a few weeks. He knows just how lucky he is to have someone willing to put up with his job and schedule, to have someone who doesn't mind his absence, and here in this moment, seeing you completely peaceful, he knows how lucky he is to have you.
You wake up to the sound of upbeat band music as the credits roll in. You're slow to realize where you are and it's only when you hear a deep groan that you remember that you're still at Seungcheol's place. Groggily looking up you see him knocked out, arms still cradling you, trapping you to his chest.
Any movement you make is met by a discomforted murmur as Cheol continues to hold you close. You lose the fight rather quickly, knowing that as long as he's asleep he's not letting you go anywhere. So you lay your head back down and let sleep take you again, a smile rising on both you and Cheol's lips in complete domestic bliss. Your first official night together; something you'll put together later and it'll make both of you blush.
--7 hours later--
A loud banging on the front door wakes Cheol.
"Oh my god, my fucking flight!" He's in a sudden state of panic as his hands roam around your bodies for his phone. 27 messages and 10 missed calls from his manager. "Shit shit shit-"
He tries to move but the weight of your body on his stops him in his tracks. For just a minute he completely relaxes seeing you still sound asleep despite his volume. "I love you." he whispers placing a peck on your forehead. He knows you won't hear him and it's probably too soon for him to tell you this but he's certain his feelings are true.
Plus, it's the small thing he does moments before pushing you off of him to get his things ready. (Don't worry, he'll pepper your face in kisses until the moment his feet are out the door.)
{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for my Seventeen works please let me know!! Requests are open!}
{A/N: A little something while I work on Perfection and the angst Cheol fic that y'all voted on. Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. Have a nice week lovelies!!}
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chaoticbardlady99 · 23 days
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Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader) Part 5, MDNI 18+
Synopsis: Finally out of the Underdark, the group takes a rest day. You and Astarion go swimming. Astarion shows you his scars. "No shoes, no shirt, no service" ends up working out pretty well for you.
CW: SMUT, virginity loss (not glorified), PiV, Oral (F! Receiving), Dead Dove
*can be read independently
Author Note: Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love and support!
Part 4: Part 6 : Master list
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 You could not be more grateful to be out of the Underdark and away from Minotaurs or to have a true rest day. 
On the other hand, you are borderline loopy if you are being entirely honest with yourself. Your entire body feels excruciatingly heavy and you kind of just want to sleep. 
 It’s been a really long and difficult trip. You are over it- mostly because you really don’t want to go to the crèche. Shadowheart and Lae’zel have been like two toddlers throwing tantrums back and forth regarding the whole thing and at one point you lost your marbles.
“You!” You pointed at Shadowheart, “STOP BEING A RACIST JACKASS!
 You turned to Lae’zel, “AND YOU! Stop threatening her with a good time!”
 You and Astarion went on the hunt for Blackberries. It was initially just you going, but he asked if he could go with. He was rather shy about the whole thing and you are still trying to figure out what his feelings towards you are- which is also very confusing and tiring.
  A hand wraps around your bicep, interrupting your thoughts, and Astarion just barely pulls you before you walk off a larger rock and go tumbling to the ground.
 The only one who has taken any real notice in your emotional distress is Astarion, but you don’t know he realizes that and that he is very hyper aware of your needs and potential stressors. It’s part survival technique and also part absolute obsession with how wonderful you are. He feels like a giddy school boy and it’s weird. 
“Darling,” he scolds you, “why didn’t you say you were dangerously tired?”
“I’m fine,” you fib, not wanting to inconvenience him with worry.. 
 Astarion rolls his eyes and takes his bow and arrow off his back. He straps them to you before guiding you up a rock. 
“Well?” He asks with a shrug.
 It takes you a moment and you blush extremely hard. You can’t keep doing this to yourself- it’s getting pathetic. 
“I am fine, really, I -“
“Says the person who damn near walked straight off the cliff,” he chastises you again, “besides, I drank our last elixir of giant hill strength so I might as well put it to use.”
 You eventually agree and you are grateful that he carries you on his back with ease. You wear mostly light armor- preferring to be able to move swiftly to support healing your companions or fellow selunite’s. 
 Astarion smells like his cologne with a hint of salt. You can hear his barely existing pulse thrumming through his skin. Sometimes it’s odd to realize your blood is what runs through his veins right now. 
 It feels oddly intimate and dare you say… special? 
 You had woken up this morning to a very frustrated Astarion. He had reported that his hunt didn’t go well so you offered your neck. 
  Astarion hasn’t fed from you in a while so when his teeth broke skin- he had to be very mindful of his every action. You, on the other hand, were fighting off the faint moans that you refuse to let escape your lips while he feeds.
 You have no desire to sexualize him- it’s the intimacy of the act itself. Nothing more, nothing less. You haven’t been touched in a while and you haven’t touched someone in a while- not in that way anyway.
 Your hands had tangled in his hair and you were about to let him bleed you dry. He thankfully had enough restraint for both of you. 
 You thought everything was black and white- unrequited love at its finest. 
 The kiss is confusing and you keep trying to convince yourself it’s merely because he was caught up in the heat of the moment or you imagined it. The proximity isn’t helping and all you want is to do it again.
“Star?” You murmur.
 Astarion perks his ears up, “hm?” 
 “I need a nap.”
 He rolls his eyes and smiles, “well, maybe someone wouldn’t be so sleepy if someone asked for help every once in a while.”
 “I-I… ask for help,” your voice going from indignant to a grumble. 
 “You are disgustingly selfless,” he remarks, “you should do something for yourself for once.”
 “Like what!?” You exclaim, “should I try mushrooms again? Is this what you are suggesting?”
“Absolutely not,” he tsks, “I prefer when there is a smile on that lovely face of yours and I saw far more of your frown than your smile during that whole debacAle.” 
 You are so grateful he can’t see you blush like a schoolgirl right now. You wouldn’t be able to explain yourself. 
 You look around in the environment and try to come up with something fun you can do to fill your cup- which, surprisingly enough- you do so rather quickly. 
“What if we went to that waterfall?” You offer, “the water was clear and the area was cool. It would be a great way to cool off.”
“You mean the water down the insanely large cliff?” 
  You nod and are suddenly being put down- Astarion puts both hands on his hips and leers at you- then shrugs.
“Fine, but no falling or drowning- please. I don’t need oxygen, but I have no idea if I can swim or not. “
 Your original excitement wanes and turns into a different kind of excitement entirely. You cast Feather Fall and are quickly leaping over the side of the cliff- you love your silly flying magic- both flying and feather fall. You are one of the few clerics you know that actually knows how to cast fly, but you typically prefer to use a potion to avoid having to concentrate on it. You have fallen a few times before because you forgot to keep focusing. 
 Before you know it, you have dragged him towards the shallow part of the pool of water below the waterfall. Astarion looks like he may be sick, but you are certain you can teach him how to swim if he doesn’t know how to. 
 However, what you didn’t think about was the lack of swimwear. 
 It can’t possibly be that big of a deal. You are both perfectly mature adults and it’s not like seeing your friend in his underwear is that weird.
 Sure he kissed you, but he hasn’t said anything else since or tried again. It was probably an accident- even after everything he said. You know he isn’t someone to shy away from what he wants.
Besides, you try to see this as a positive rather than the excruciating negative it actually is, he isn’t even attracted to you so you don’t even have to worry about how you look! Your hair can get as mussy as it needs to be!
 You begin to get rid of your armor and Astarion almost seems to get taller suddenly- you look over and raise an eyebrow at the obviously shell shocked man.
“What? You can’t swim in your armor- you would be stuck at the bottom,” you exclaim as if the man in front of you is gawking because you are using common logic, “and I would drown- which I certainly do not want to do.”
 He blinks several times- almost too fast to be human, if you are being entirely honest with yourself, before he snaps out of it and puts on his usual confident smirk.
“I am glad we can agree on something for once,” he teases, you don’t notice the amount of effort he is putting in to not looking further from your face, “but if you wouldn’t mind turning around while I strip into my un-“
“Oh! Duh!” You feel wildly embarrassed, “I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Gods I didn’t even think about that before I began- I will do better next time.”
 Flustered, you turn around and slowly submerge yourself in the water to get used to the coolness of it. It’s significantly colder than the water near Emerald Grove and you really miss it. You really liked the weird harpy beach (after the Harpy’s were removed) and the sand had been soft. 
 Maybe you should travel back some time. You are certain Karlach would be absolutely thrilled to go back after her and Wyll had their “epic cannonball” competition. Gale had cast feather fall, but it still didn’t stop the belly flop Wyll performed to hurt any less.
 That was a fun day, you think to yourself, I wish Astarion had been there, but still. I think these are the first people I feel like I belong around. 
 You smile to yourself and take a deep breath. 
 You are very proud of yourself for stepping up- you feel eons away from the person who woke up on the Nautiloid and significantly more confident in yourself. 
 You are a smart, funny, and charming individual. You are someone worthy of love and you are grateful to have boat loads of it now. 
  The water splashes from behind you and you wait for several moments. You begin to feel a bit worried when there is some silence and then teeth chattering begins. 
 You turn and Astarion is hugging himself- leering at you with his lips set in a pout.
“It is MISERABLE IN HERE!” 
 You giggle and cast a warming cantrip that Gale taught you. The water becomes significantly more comfortable, but Astarion still groans and complains. 
“What if I just watched you swim?”
 “That would be weird, Astarion.”
“Is it?” He questions, “mothers and fathers watch their children swim and don’t join them all the time- if my memory serves me correctly.”
“Are you saying you’re my mom?” You snort and relish in the way his entire face turns pink- his ears especially.
“I- NO!” You have never seen him this flabbergasted before, “I have no desire to be your mother.” 
“Oh, so you are my dad then?”
“Ye- NO!” 
 You throw your head back with mirth and laughter. It’s fun on the rare occasion that you catch him off guard first. Astarion is usually making you trip through sentences. 
You wipe away your tears and your face hurts from smiling. You feel like your face may split in half when you look at his face. He looks equally as happy and he is still embarrassed- it makes him look softer and he blinks very slowly. 
 His lips… look… so… kissable!!!!
Swimming! You scream at yourself, you came to teach him how to swim, not imagine making out with him!
 “Alright,” you submerge yourself until you are neck deep, turning to face him, “I believe in you peepaw!”
 Astarion glares at you and you give him a shit eating grin.
“I am going to fucking kill you,” he yells over the waterfall.
“PROMISE!?” 
 Astarion rolls his eyes at you before nervously looking down as he watches the rest of his upper torso disappear. Another drool worthy aspect of him that you, begrudgingly, will never get to see outside of this capacity again.
 Shadowheart saw him in that capacity. 
 It’s almost enough to derail you and want to run back to camp.
Almost.
  Where you are up to your neck, Astarion still has quite a lot water clearance. 
“Look at that!” You wipe away a fake tear, “they get older and older everyday.”
“Oh will you knock it off with that already!”
 Astarion splashes you in the face and you sputter- spitting the water that got into your mouth out. 
“EEWWWWWW!”
“HAH!” 
 It takes a few more childish splashes before you eventually get to the initial matter at hand. However, you didn’t anticipate it taking thirty minutes to convince him to even doggy paddle.
“Maybe Scratch would be a better swim teacher,” you scratch the back of your head, “maybe he would demonstrate better.”
 Astarion is tight lipped and you have noticed that he refuses to turn around in front of you or allow you to get behind him. 
 Does he have some kind of nasty mole or something?
 No, you shake your head, it’s not your place to ask. 
 “What if we tried a backstroke?” 
 Astarion takes to that very quickly-  becoming faster than you even. 
 Everything is going “swimmingly” (Astarion splashed you again for that one) and you are pretty bummed that you have to leave. You are getting tired and your stomach is growling so loudly he can hear it.
 “Wait,” Astarion pulls you back before you get out of the water- it is now just below your shoulders while Astarion almost has his entire torso above water.
 Don’t look. Don’t stare. Don’t look. Don’t stare.
“Yes, Star?”
 A ghost of a smile flickers on his face, ��I- I want to show you something.”
 You are a bit confused, but nod anyway. Astarion grabs your hand this time- a shock to your system- and pulls you out while looking at both of your hands. He refuses to look your way and he seems to struggle with letting go. 
 He closes his eyes with a shaking breathe and turns around, his fists are in tight balls and you are beginning to worry there may be a creature that wishes to consume you coming out of his back at this rate.
 Thankfully, the situation isn’t that dire, but you still take a sharp breath. 
 You can see why he didn’t want to turn around earlier. The scars are so precise and deep- it looks horribly painful. You cannot imagine how long it took for this to occur- considering he has vampiric healing. 
 The skin has been healed over a thousand times, but your heart feels broken when you think about how many people have taken advantage of his situation and never stopped to ask how they could help. Those who dug their nails into his back or found beauty in his scars- only wanting to enjoy his body and chase their own pleasure.
 You aren’t sure what you should do. You want to touch them and soothe every emotional and physical wound- even the ghosts of them- but you aren’t sure that would be accepted considering the nature of the scars. You want to tell him you think the world of him- that you love him and nothing could ever change that. Hells- you would kill Cazador tomorrow if you could- but you don’t think that would help either.
 You have never felt this angry in your whole life.
“A gift,” he says solemnly before his voice is flooded with venom and embarrassment, “from Cazador.
“He composed it over the span of a night,” his shoulders slump, “he made many revisions as he went.” 
 You recognize the language and it makes your stomach turn. 
 This soul swears no oath by fire 
Nor words does he speak
In the realm of death
“Do you know what it is supposed to be?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I have never seen it. A poem or something like that.”
 A poem? That isn’t right. It’s poetic, but it seems more of a contract or curse.
 You shake your head, “this is Infernal and while it reads like a poem- it’s certainly not a poem.”
“What!?” He turns around and looks at you with panic, “infernal?” 
  This leads to drawing the design out of the dirt on the beach.
“What in the hells did he do to me?” 
 Astarion’s fear and horror soaks into your bones. You look down at the looping design. 
 It makes your own skin crawl and the message itself worries you deeply. It makes you worry that Astarion will never ever be free, but it wouldn’t make sense. This is a devil’s contract- you aren’t sure people can use those to bind themselves to someone.
“Karlach and Wyll may-“
“No,” he interrupts, “let’s keep this between us for now.”  
 You erase the evidence quickly and you are admittedly a bit surprised by the statement. 
“Doesn’t Shadowheart know? She may-“
“Shadowheart hasn’t seen them.” 
“I think she- wait really?”
“Yes.”
“But you-“
“Barely- neither party was enjoying themselves.” 
 Oh.
 Your perplexed mind must be showing on your face because Astarion smirks at you with a roll of his eyes.
“Oh please- I may be a worthless elven whore, but I-“
“Do not say that,” you cross your arms and Astarion’s sentence stops in it’s tracks, “you are not ‘worthless’ and you are not a ‘whore’ either. Even if you were- of your own volition- there is nothing wrong with that. Sex work is a very valid form of work and as long as you are happy, I will be more than happy for you.
“However, that is not the reality of the situation.” You feel your frown settling further into your face, “what happened to you is cruel and horrific. No one deserves to be treated that way- especially not you- and I can assure you that the Priestess and I are going to have serious words about including vampire spawn and helping them when I return to the temple! I am embarrassed on the behalf of the entire damn clergy.” 
 Astarion’s eyes soften significantly with a bit of warmth and humor. He also looks authentically surprised by your passion regarding the subject. He nods and turns away- continuing to get dressed and you do the same. 
 You aren’t necessarily thrilled with yourself because you neglected to think about what you are going to wear to sleep. You have a few pairs of camp clothes, but now they are soaked adjacent and you still technically have a tent mate. 
 Unless he decides that this is all too much? It feels like there has been a lot more emotionally intimate moments between both of you and you worry from time to time. It helps that you don’t have the pressure of a romantic bond, but you don’t want to make him feel trapped. 
  You walk back in silence- stretching and yawning as you go. 
 There is so much to do tomorrow. Laundry- big time. Probably need to try to secure more food before we cross the border… at this rate, we never know when the next time to restock will be.
 Ugh- especially with the Shadow Cursed Lands. We probably need to secure more blood for Astarion too. Oh and finding a way to store it so it doesn’t become disgusting. Maybe a few Restoration scrolls. I know I will be the primary source of food for him. 
 “You are thinking awfully hard over there, Darling.”
“I am just thinking about my chores.”
“Chores?
“Well, for one, I need to wash my clothes. I didn’t think about that before we went swimming. I am also trying to figure out the food situation- we are going to need to figure out how to store blood for you and try to collect as much food as we can before entering the Shadow Cursed Lands. I want to begin preparing for that now so we don’t run into trouble later. Hungry bellies and life threatening circumstances never end well.”
“Y-you don’t need to worry about me, Darling,” he stammers, “I am sure I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but I want to help. It will stress me the hells out if I know we don’t have something for you to eat or at least several potions so I can recover because you starving is not an option!” You exclaim, “and could you imagine Shadowheart and Lae’zel interacting while hangry? I like living, thank you very much.” 
 Astarion snorts and shakes his head, “I don’t know- I think it would make for a rather fun evening. My money would be on Lae’zel.”
“Really?” You are genuinely surprised, “my money would be on Shadowheart only because Karlach may get involved. Otherwise- Lae’zel all the way.”
“What if we made them ‘hangry’ on purpose,” Astarion offers, “we could see exactly how the situation goes? For research purposes, of course.”
“Of course,” you say, “just for research…”
 The two of you hatch a plan- the next day, you will refuse to take breaks and Astarion will throw a fit if you try. This means the two women won’t be allowed to snack throughout the day and Gale always takes forever to cook. 
 At some point, Astarion intertwined his fingers with yours and you notice, but you just hold on tightly. You really don’t want him to let go and it feels natural. You don’t notice the way he is looking at you or how he has to pay extra attention to the environment while he listens because he has almost tripped a couple times. 
 The walk home is calm and peaceful. You chatter back and forth about the various theories you have regarding Gith culture and the oddness of the crèche.
  Once you finally get back to camp- you practically skip to your tent to get out of your wet clothing. 
 It’s not until after that you realize you have made quite the error by getting caught up in your to-do list without informing Astarion that you don’t necessarily have clothes- your laundry situation is far more dire than you mentioned- and he may want to sleep in his own tent tonight. Your laundry didn’t just magically do itself in the last 10 minutes.
 You groan- thankful you have at least found a pair of underwear that are clean, but what are you supposed to do about a top? You also can’t go out to the campfire exposed. 
 “Darling- I think I may have left my-“ he coughs suddenly, “shirt.”
 Your arms cover your chest by instinct although you are turned around. 
“Oh- uh- ya um probably over there,” you sound even more awkward than you feel, “I am probably going to spend time here for the rest of the night. Didn’t really think about the laundry situation.
“I suppose that means I will see you tomorrow-“
 As if on cue- a shirt is pulled over the top of your head and you naturally put your arms through the holes. He spins you around with his delicate fingers leaving the ghost of his presence along your hips.  
  Blood is rushing through your ears. You feel far too warm and you just try to focus on the floor as he ties the laces up the front of his shirt. 
“There,” his voice is thick with an emotion you don’t know, “I suppose we are both stuck in here then. No shirt, no pants, no service, or whatever nonsense. It’s never stopped me though, but I can imagine you are no more ready to die than I am.” 
“What do you mean?”
 Astarion looks at you with a roll of his eyes and takes off his cloak.
“Oh please.”
“What!?” 
  Astarion guffaws at you, “Gale would explode if he had the opportunity to see you without any pants. It would be instantaneous.”
 Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. That’s nonsense and absolutely silly.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” you huff, walking to your pack to get your brush, “I think it would be more so him dying of shock that I have skin to show.” 
  More silence as you brush your hair- styling it the way you prefer and praying to Selune that it dries correctly. Also that you don’t fall asleep so prematurely that it dries weirdly. 
 You are distracted though. You very much like how you look in Astarion’s shirt and it is very nice of him to be lending it to you. 
“I’ll make sure to wash your shirt with my laund-“
“I would prefer you didn’t,” he muses, “I rather like it when my clothing smells like you in your natural state, Darling.”
 You run straight into him as you turn around in your confusion, his fingers tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his.
 Ruby eyes send a massive infernal wave through you- this is how you imagine Karlach feels after consuming a soul coin. 
 You burn for him- whether he lights you on fire or sends electricity through your body. Only, you feel powerful in the way he looks at you. 
 It’s a somewhat possessive look, but not in the way you would have anticipated. It’s lustful and wanting, protective and gentle, heartbreak and hopefulness. Maybe even a bit of a fear. 
“Would you be with Gale like this if he asked?” 
 You shake your head wordlessly. Your cheeks are flushed, your heart is thumping erratically against your chest, and blood is rushing in your ears. Your entire body is quivering in anticipation.
 Astarion pulls you to him, his hands lightly on your ass. You can feel his finger curling- wishing to leave fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs. You want him to so terribly it hurts.
“And Wyll?”
“No,” you say breathlessly. 
“Halsin?”
“Not without you.”
 He stops and chuckles darkly, “don’t threaten me with a good time, Lover.”
 You try to hold still as he kisses along the curve of your jaw- his other hand has become tangled in your hair. You want him to feel in control and to feel like he can stop if needed.
“What about the others?” 
 Gods- you can hardly believe he is serious right now.
“I only want you, Astarion.”
  This is not a confession you wanted to share ever again, but it’s out there now and you suppose it’s better to get your second rejection over with now than later. He’s probably just teasing anyway. 
 Only, it never comes- in fact- his fingers only seem to become more fidgety as they glide across your skin, sending shockwaves to your core. 
 You are in a trance and his grin is beautiful. Astarion is certainly a predator and you have quickly turned into helpless prey. You are right in his trap. 
 The whole world seems to just… stop. Your heart beat is thundering in your chest and blood roars through your ears. You wonder if he feels this way too- is this a universal experience or one sided? 
 His fingers travel along the curves of your face as if he is painting you, but his eyes are intense- it almost feels like he is trying to memorize you and your features. 
 Your breath hitches when his thumb swipes across your bottom lips, parting them ever so slightly. 
 You allow your eyes to meet his, and you have never wanted to be kissed more in your entire life. Something in the way he looks at you tells you that he feels the same. 
 It’s a silent consent- he watches your every move as he leans in and your eyes flutter shut the closer he gets to you. 
 The anticipation is killing you and you try to contain your huff of frustration, but you are desperate. This feels like a dream. 
 Astarion’s lips send shockwaves through you when he finally makes contact. 
 Every movement is slow and tender- your face is still cradled in his hands, but you aren’t sure where to put yours. Astarion seems to read your mind and his hands travel south, gently guiding your hands to rest on his chest before returning to your face. 
 You have kissed people before, but not a single soul could hold a candle to Astarion. Not that they could anyway, but this is just… incredible. 
 His lips like honey and wine are dizzying, you feel like a delicate work of art in his hands, and his skin feels like porcelain underneath your fingertips. 
 Astarion guides you to the ground, your hips straddling his, and one of his hands tangles itself in your hair, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other remains firmly on your hip and you feel exhilarated by the idea of the fingerprint bruises that are certain to be left behind. 
 One of your arms is propped up next to his head- helping you keep balance so you don’t fall on top of him by accident. The other slides in between both of you and rubs along the outline of his cock- you swipe your tongue along his lower lip when he moans, taking advantage of the temporary dominance. 
 It’s short lived- he pulls you back by your hair and you have to put your hands on his chest to keep from embarrassing yourself. The last thing you want is to topple over on accident and have the, “yeah so I have a dirty V-Card and haven’t gone all the way, but it’s no biggie! I am sure this whole position thing will make sense eventually!” Because that seems to just scare off men. 
 The hand that had been gripping your hair is now paying an artfully close amount of attention to your clothed clit, pushing away the fabric, and one finger slides inside you with ease. 
 You bite your lip so hard you draw blood and you basically growl- you don’t want to alert the entire camp to your activities. This is meant to be a private moment and yet, you could not be more embarrassed.
“I-“ you are blushing red, his finger still moving slowly inside you, “I’m- sor- just wanted-“
 Astarion has you on your back- sucking, nipping, and lapping at the blood on your lower lip. He reinserts his lithe finger inside of you- his thumb taking it’s sweet time to hit every single nerve followed by a second finger that makes you briefly see stars.
“I don’t want to hear you ever apologize to me over something like that- it’s a noise I would rather like to hear from you again,” he nips your lower lip and you groan, “you are absolutely divine.” 
 You are a moaning mess against his doll like lips and your core is tightening so much it’s bittersweet. You want your release so terribly and you are lost in the way his fingers feel inside of you. Astarion curls and scissors his fingers- eventually adding a third that makes your toes curl in pleasure.
 He begins to make his descent down your body- kissing along the vein in your throat and along your collarbones. 
 Every inch of your skin is littered in kisses or has been love bitten by the time his cold tongue circles your sensitive clit. His fingers continue their rhythm- occasionally changing speeds to either tease or ruin you. His other hand is holding your hips down- your thighs are holding his head in place and you have no idea how much he is enjoying being buried between your legs. 
 He really, really made a mistake going with Shadowheart. You are incredible- exceptional even. The way you are fighting to keep your moans quiet as the camp begins to stir to life makes his cock twitch painfully against the already strained clothing. It doesn’t seem to matter how much friction he provides himself with- all he can think about is being inside you, filling you to the brim, taking you and making you his once and for all. 
 When you finally have the wherewithal to look at him- you are taken away with the way he looks at you. It’s the same way a priest looks talking about his God. 
 You guide his face back up to yours by weakly grabbing his hair- evidently your mind is in the same space and wanting to feel entirely consumed by him. You bite his lower lip and the growl he releases tips you over the edge- stars explode behind your eyes and you feel the rush of bliss numb your entire body. 
 A low pitched whine leaves your throat when he removes his fingers. He chuckles, but you feel so incredibly empty. It feels wrong. You are desperate to know him in every way, if he wants that.
 His eyes are still blown with lust, but you can see the adoration for you that Karlach so often talks about. You are smiling like a schoolgirl as he slots himself between your legs and begins to kiss you again. 
 Astarion’s cock is hard against the inside of your thigh and your breath hitches- the implication of the next act suddenly hitting you. 
 It’s happening and with someone you care about. Only, it makes you freeze, because it’s happening and it’s with someone you care about. 
“Is everything alright, Darling?”
 Astarion is looking at you with concern and you are quick to assuage him- gently guiding his face down to yours and kissing him deeply.
“I haven’t quite- reached this step yet- if that makes sense, but I PROMISE I WANT TO,” you are trying to save it before it crashes and dies on the floor, “if you want to- that is. 
 Astarion looks a bit surprised- maybe even a little shell shocked. What do you mean you haven’t quite gotten to this step? Are you trying to tell him you are a virgin?
 It makes sense, but a part of him is worried he may be opening the proverbial Pandora’s box and you will only want him for sex now. 
 But this is you and… he can trust you. He can enjoy you. He can indulge safely.
“I very much want to,” his voice is low and thick with lust, “I want you so terribly it hurts.” 
 The act is far more beautiful than you could have ever expected- it feels like putting together two pieces of the same beautiful vase as if it wasn’t fixed or reunited until this exact moment. 
 His movements are slow and careful- he takes his time to ready you completely. Astarion kisses your whimpering lips and his hands are intertwined with yours. 
 It’s odd for him to be entirely in control, but he also loves every second of it. He loves how consumed with you he is.
 Astarion’s eyes are boring into yours with every movement of his hips and every time you blink- he is still watching you with hooded, lustful eyes.
 His own eyelashes flutter and Astarion’s eyes are fighting not to roll back- he wants to see every single second. Astarion wants to enjoy every moment of you.
 You are technically his first too- to an extent. You are the first person he feels something for and wants to be with. 
 Your pulse thrums through his cock and his chest- it’s intoxicating and enduring. You are so real- so undeniably wonderfully alive and it allows him, even if for a moment, to feel like he is alive too.
 You mewl against his mouth, you weren’t expecting so much pinching at the start, but you found it went away quickly- your arms are now wrapped around his neck and he rocks inside of you with a slightly faster pace. His lips coax even more sighs and gasps- his own becoming intermingled as you continue to indulge in one another. 
 You feel utterly full- disgustingly, beautifully, perfectly full. You are on cloud 9 or you may have died and gone to heaven. 
 This feels right- exactly what you had been waiting for. 
 Astarion is experiencing the same emotions- he can barely keep his composure as you kiss him. The mewls and keens that leave your lips are some of the most melodic sounds he has ever heard and you are all his. 
 You feel perfect- he likes the feelings of your hands on him, even if it’s still a complicated feeling. 
 Sex has never felt sacred or safe- he has never been able to forget himself in a way that wasn’t dissociative and here he is, entirely lost in the moment.
 Entirely lost in you.
 He is gasping and sighing shamelessly into your ear with each thrust of his hips. Astarion is fighting to keep is release at bay and it’s a lot harder than he thought it would be. It usually isn’t, but you are a lovely wonderful treat. 
“A-Astarion,” you murmur his name like a prayer with every moan, as if he isn’t the one worshiping you right now. 
 Your heels are digging into his back and your heart beat is erratic. He kisses and nips your neck- struggling with his self control. You smell incredible. 
 When he goes to move away from your neck- one of your hands holds his head in place and he growls in response. Astarion means it more of a warning than anything else- he will end up biting you if you keep him here any longer. You are far, far too tempting.
 You seem to read his mind.
“I-you can- if you want,” 
 It happens so fast, neither one of you really expects it when he sinks his teeth into your neck- his body responds for him and begins to thrust into you erratically. Astarion has both of your hands pinned above your head again and you- in all your inexperience- are trusting him.
 The sounds that leave his mouth as he feeds and ruts inside you are animalistic and oddly enduring- your adrenaline and lust flows through your body. 
 Astarion’s mouth begins to feel warmer as you grow colder and his movements seem almost even more fast and distant with each second he takes from you, but you find you don’t mind. You should, but you don’t. 
 Your cries are guttural, hushed, and filled with pleasure- your legs are shaking around his waist and he can feel your life essence getting weaker and weaker. 
 It is becoming harder and harder to move away with each gulp of blood he takes, but he knows he needs to stop before he kills you on accident. 
 It feels physically painful to do so- not even necessarily because he is hungry, but because it made him feel truly connected to you on every single level. Astarion has never been given the pleasure of doing that before. 
“You,” he kisses all over your face as you look up at him lazily, “are so lovely and you have been exceptionally good for me, my Dear.”
 Astarion rolls so you are on top of him again- he knows you need a second to recover and he thinks you may rather enjoy this. 
 He props you up with his core and legs- using his hand to help himself get back inside you while you weakly keep yourself upright. You are a blissed out, wanting, whimpering mess when you finally are sinking back down on him and your hands are on either side of his head.
 Your eyes are blown wide with lust, blood drips down your throat and down your chest, and Astarion wants to remember this moment forever. You look euphoric and your eyes are glossed over from the haze of blood loss and pleasure. 
  Astarion moves his core up and done- thrusting up into you while one of his hands keeps you from moving and the other is tangled in your hair. He wants to see you orgasm- he wants to watch your face when bliss takes you again. 
 It’s beautiful when it does. 
 Your face is peaceful with pleasure, but your eyes are filled with adoration for him, not just lust and hunger-sated. 
 There is no boredom or false infatuation. No Cazador or  looming death right now- just the two of you in your little sanctuary together. 
 A mixture of your rush and his seed coats his navel and it may be the most delicious feeling in the whole world. The sound of your bodies is positively filthy and he is thankful you are still caught up in your haze because there is no way no one didn’t hear the events that have transpired in your tent.
 He pulls you down to his chest, your legs are shaking around his waist and he’s slightly worried he may have done too much for your first time. However, you are lazily kissing his cheek and along his jaw so you certainly don’t seem displeased.
 “Thank you,” you whisper, “this is what I envisioned my first time being like.”
“What do you mean?” He whispers back, unsure of why that is. Did you envision being with someone experienced? Beautiful? Easy to manipulate into sex?
“Being with someone I care about,” you lay your head on his chest and yawn, “with someone I consider my closest and most favorite companion. My friend and…”
 It surprises him immensely and he honestly has no idea how to express his gratefulness, but he is able to respond in a somewhat normal way.
“One and Only Lover?” He offers flirtatiously, “exceptionally charming Vampire? Your deviously handsome rogue?” 
 You sit up weakly, rolling your eyes and place a kiss on his chin before curling back up.
“All of the above.”
“Thank the Gods- I was worried I was going to have to kill Wyll after all.”
 You snort and just shake your head. Your breathing evens out and his hands are playing with your hair- as is the normal routine. 
 The normal routine. 
 Astarion’s smile is massive- he feels happy tears begin to stream down his face and he wipes them away with his free hand. 
 This is his new normal- having sex with you, a person he wants to be with, and cuddling afterwards. He even gets to drink from you.   And he already can’t wait to be with you in such an intimate way again.
Tag list: @preciouslittlebhaalbae @xxgrimripp3rxx @alice4wonderland2812 @therobishow @m1ster1e @tragicdruid @katsutoria @aristenfromwarsaw @avabjorna36 @frankie-mercury @golden-baby
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ryukzakiii · 8 months
Text
distraction ⭑ l. lawliet (pt.2!)
part one here !
summary: now that the first move had been made, you start to realize just how badly L needs to be the best at anything he does, and how much he’s used to getting just what he wants.
pairing: l. lawliet x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), oral (f. receiving), voyeurism kinda, unprotected sex (wrap it up), praise ig, not really dom!L but he’s spoiled and gets what he wants, idk guys it’s nasty, fluff at the end :)
authors note: i got so carried away i cant edit it anymore just have at it and enjoy ya freaks!!
smut under the cut !!
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after you and L first slept together that night in headquarters, his interest in you had grown exponentially. mainly because he couldn’t fully understand how somebody as beautiful and brilliant as you would ever be interested in somebody like him, but also because he had become fixated on learning everything there was to know about pleasing a woman. pleasing you.
every time the rest of the task force would leave for the night, he would take the opportunity to have you to himself almost immediately. as the nights went on, he grew more and more confident in what he was doing, being able to get you down on your knees in front of him just by speaking to you for a moment. his monotonous (yet somehow cocky) tone of voice alone drove you crazy.
as weeks became months, any little bit of hesitation he once had was smothered and he was just as sure of himself regarding you as he was regarding everything else; borderline too much.
that meant he began to want his needs to be met at any time he wished. like how he had sweets or drinks whenever he wanted, and anything he asked for he would always have post-haste, and it wasn’t like L to change his ways.
he would wait for everyone to leave the room, even just for ten minutes, and you’d be sitting in his lap barely able to catch your breath due to the fervour with which he kissed you.
he would ask watari to page you to his room if it was a night you hadn’t already been with him that day, either at school or out with friends, and you wouldn’t be there 5 minutes before he had you bent over a table (or the couch, or his work desk, or once over the windowsill the night you’d mentioned wanting to see the full moon).
in not so many words, his libido had gone into overdrive and he quite enjoyed getting whatever he wanted.
the only problem was that once you two were finished and he had a small break from the incessant urge to bury himself into you as deep as he could go, he still wanted to be just as close to you and horribly wanted you to feel the same way. unfortunately, this was the one situation where he couldn’t find the words to express his feelings.
so, since he had made it his goal to be the very best at making you feel good, he decided to get his point across to you the best way he now knew how.
“y/n, would you please come over here for a moment?”
almost everyone was currently heading out the door, off on their various ways for the evening aside from L, you, light, and misa. light had been discussing his thoughts about something with you while the others were busy and misa was awaiting a chance to convince light to hang out with her.
you excused yourself from your conversation with light and made your way to the opposite end of the room where L was sat in his usual spot in front of the television.
“what can i do for you?”
“actually i’d like to talk to you about something i want to do for you.” he said it as though light and misa weren’t 20 feet away, “well, to you, more accurately. i want to try something new, i wasn’t so sure i could do it but i believe i have a well enough understanding of what makes you tick to be successful.”
despite how casually and technical he spoke, every word was making that familiar damp feeling between your legs reappear. he was looking at you like he wanted to take a bite and it took everything in you not to fall to your knees right then and there, “uh, what exactly did you have in mind?”
“i’d really like to try my hand at performing cunnilingus. in fact,” he turned his head to look towards the others in the room, “let’s do it now. no time like the present eh?”
“L, whatever you’re thinking about is a bad idea. light and misa are right over there.”
“nevermind them, they won’t be able to see past the back of the couch, come and sit here.”
you nodded and he slid over and motioned for you to sit where he had just been, handing you his cell phone in the process, “if you get too nervous about them, speed dial light on this and it will send a message to his phone to meet down in headquarters. sound good?”
the second he saw you nod again, he crouched down to the floor in front of you and began working away at the clasp of your pants. he shimmied them down your legs and onto the floor, gently so as not to make a sound, your underwear going next leaving you fully exposed to him.
he was in awe. sure, he was now incredibly familiar with your body, but he’d never gotten as close as he now found himself. your pussy was just inches from his face, wet and waiting, all for him. his hands gripped the insides of your thighs, pushing them apart so he could get a better look at you in all your glory.
“would you look at this, you’ve gotten wet before i’ve even touched you.” he spread you further open with his thumbs, fingers still curled into your thighs and hot breath fanning over you, “i suppose it would only be right of me to clean up the mess i’ve caused, don’t you think?”
“yes, please.” your voice came out as barely a whisper, “but they’re going to hear you.”
“shh, just press the button and they’ll go away.” he pressed a kiss right above your clit and you had to bite your tongue to stop from crying out. even just keeping your head still was almost impossible.
you gripped the phone tightly in your hand as he kissed your clit this time, sucking it into his mouth gently.
he wasn’t trying to get you caught. that would undoubtedly be bad for the both of you, for both your jobs and your reputations. so why did he find himself itching to make you cry out? to make light and misa painfully aware of the fact that in the same suite they sat in talking innocently, L was making you feel the best that anyone could, so good you lost all sense of control and let them find out.
he knew you would never be able to show your face again had this happened though, so he reached a hand above him and clasped it over your mouth, “be quiet, i’m trying to concentrate.”
you squirmed under his touch and his tongue began to venture further, further inside his favourite place to be. he licked a stripe all the way back to your clit and your thighs instinctively squeezed shut around his head.
his hand muffled the whine that escaped you and you were sure someone would hear you. you clicked the button to dial light and finally tossed away the phone, gripping onto the couch cushions with both hands to keep yourself grounded.
you could hear his phone chime, followed by the sound of chairs pushing out and the door slamming. L paused his movements and was at last able to come up for air, mouth and chin now glistening in the faint light from the tv.
“finally i have you all to myself,” he readjusted so his arms curled under your legs, allowing him a better hold to keep them open wide.
he dove right back in, pointy nose prodding at your clit with every movement of his mouth making your body jolt. your hands worked their way into his already messy hair, holding onto it tightly as you began rocking your hips into his mouth, wet and warm and making you feel amazing.
“yes, yes just like that,” you panted out, “god that’s perfect L, please, don’t stop.”
he groaned into your pussy hearing you talk to him like that, sending a shockwave up through you. you were close, he could tell, he just had to get you there. he needed to get you there, to show you how good he could be for you.
you held him impossibly tighter to you as the knot in your stomach began to build, dragging yourself along his tongue hurriedly enough to make you wonder if he was able to keep up. your moans turned into high pitched whines as you approached your release, not a care in the world anymore about who might be around to hear you.
with both the pretty sounds you were making and the simple act of you using his mouth however you pleased, riding his tongue now to practically get yourself off, L felt so accomplished. knowing he could make you feel just as desperate for him as he felt for you was enough that he could die happy.
“oh fuck, fuck i’m gonna cum,” he was doing it. your whole body began to spasm and your back arched straight off the couch. he held you as still as he could and your legs once again closed around his head, this time squeezing for dear life as his tongue continued to work circles around your clit. all that was coming out of your mouth was babbles of his name and profanities.
as the pleasure soon turned into overstimulation, he continued without faltering his pace. he was determined. he was sure you’d probably had a good experience to compare this to, hell maybe even a great one, so he had to be sure he was the best.
“L, please, ‘s too much,” you whined, “it’s my turn.”
he pulled away entirely, coming closer to head level and giving your overworked pussy the break it was craving, “i’m sorry, i don’t recall saying anything about you getting a turn.”
“but what about you? just a taste, just quick.”
he cut you off by pressing his thumb down on your clit, the other hand moving up to cover your mouth again with a bit more force than the first time.
“i don’t know when you got it in your head that you run the show around here, but i suggest you get used to listening to me. keep being difficult and i’ll have no choice but to stop entirely.” he was bluffing, of course, but his stone cold expression didn’t give him away. his eyes trailed down to where his thumb was pressed, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile, “i really don’t want to have to do that. you just taste so, so sweet. think you can be good and behave for me?”
you nodded vigorously, pussy squeezing around nothing and begging him for attention again, the cocky, almost condescending tone in his voice making you shiver.
“excellent. now turn around for me please, hands on the back of the couch.”
you did as he asked the second he let go of you, hands holding firmly to the back of the couch and ass presented to him. you could hear his belt undoing, followed by a zipper and you braced yourself for him, but nothing.
L was a bit busy. stroking himself with one hand he stood to take in the sight before him. he had a bad habit of doing this, staring at you when he was supposed to be doing something, but he couldn’t help it. his eyes were glued to where you needed him to be, trying to carve the sight of it into his memory. his free hand held your waist as he finally lined himself up, coaxing another whine out of you as he bottomed out.
his thrusts started shallow and slow, your gentle moans fading into the background as he focused on how warm you felt.
you turned your head back to look at him, the sight of him looming over you with his jaw hung slack making you squeeze around him, “harder L, please.”
he switched to both hands and tightened his grip on your waist, “what did i say about behaving?” nonetheless, he was pushing into you much rougher now than before, yet still agonizingly slow.
“‘m sorry, it just feels so good.”
he began to pick up his pace, breathing becoming heavier the more into it he got, soon letting out little pants and groans of his own. generally, he was rather quiet during sex, only really vocalizing near the end when he couldn’t hold it in anymore, so the fact that he was talking to you and teasing you was a very pleasant surprise.
“yeah? does that feel good?” hearing you say just how good he was doing spurred him on even further, “do me a favour, id like to see the rest of you, please.”
you pulled the shirt you were wearing over your head as best as you could, L placing a hand on your sternum to hold you up. instead of letting you back down however, his hand trailed up to your chest, taking hold of one of your breasts as your back came flat against his chest. his chin rested on your shoulder and you could feel his sharp breaths hitting your ear, his racing heartbeat on your back matching your own.
the knot in your stomach returned, your pussy fluttering around him making him feel like he was on top of the world, “you— you’re so beautiful, god i could do this all day. look at you, so responsive to me, and such a good listener.”
all you could do was pant, his pace now unforgiving and making you feel like he was tearing you apart in the best way possible. he kissed behind your ear and let go of your chest in favour of rubbing gentle circles on your clit.
your whole body felt like it was white hot, “shit! yes, oh please L. i need it, i need you, please make me cum.”
he’d never heard you sound so frantic before and it was driving him up the wall, “y/n, you feel so incredible.” the more he spoke the quicker your release came rushing through you like a stampede, “i love feeling you around me like this, fuck, you’re just perfect.”
you gripped onto his arms and craned your neck to try and look at him, crying out pleas of his name and senselessly confessing to him how beautiful he was and how good he always made you feel. he held you impossibly tighter, his work on your clit long forgotten now as his only goal was to keep you as close as physically possible.
his hair hung low over his eyes, messy and sticking to his face from sweat. you were getting overstimulated once again but you’d lost all the sense in you to care, another orgasm bubbling up already because of it. L felt it, as if the look on your red face wouldn’t have given it away regardless, and his jaw fell open as his own release came creeping up on him.
his hips finally began to falter, a few loud, deep groans ripping out of him. his eyebrows knitted together and he shut his eyes, steady whimpers and groans falling out of him now as the two of you reached your peak together.
you felt him twitch inside of you, one of his arms reaching to hold the couch as his muscles began to give out on him. he placed sloppy, sweet kisses on your jaw before flopping down onto his back on the couch with an outstretched arm waiting for you.
he was back to normal, back to being his quiet self. you laid your head on his chest and he yanked the blanket from the back of the couch to cover the two of you, fingers gently tapping and tracing lines onto your bare back. this was your favourite part of it all, just laying with him and basking in what you’d just done.
for L, despite how much he craved the feeling of this, this was the part that would still make him question himself. when thoughts of self-doubt had an opening to creep up on him. the muscles in his hands twitched and the hold he had on you subconsciously tightened, dreading the moment you decide to get up and go to your room to take care of yourself.
every time you would bid him adieu, he could feel exactly where you had been laying become cold, physically reminding him of your absence. he couldn’t stand it. every night he tried to work up the courage to tell you to come back, to wait for him in his room instead, to ask you if he could come to bed with you, but every night the words would get caught in his throat and he’d choke.
you didn’t show any signs of getting up though, if anything you were letting yourself get comfier. he revelled in it, the whole room smelled a little like sweat but he found it almost sweet. maybe that would become his new favourite smell. he hoped you were as blissful as he was.
you trailed a hand up under the front of his shirt, letting your hand rest over his heart and feeling it quicken with every little movement you made.
“i really don’t want to get up.” you finally spoke, “i wish we could just stay like this.”
he winced, “don’t get up. you don’t have to.”
you tilted your head up to look at him, his face finally visible with his hair going every which way and his eyelids hanging half-closed. this was the most relaxed he ever looked, probably because he was far less concentrated than he usually had to be.
“we can’t just sleep here on the couch, L.”
we. we can’t sleep here on the couch, “we could. technically we can do whatever we want.”
he smiled at you, a coy little smile, and you knew you were so screwed.
“how about you go and wait for me in my room then?” he wasn’t looking at you anymore, too nervous for your response, “i just have to put all these files where they need to go, and maybe clean up a little.”
“really?”
“if that’s something you want to do, if not don’t feel like you’re obligated to say yes.”
“no i want to! i mean, as long as you’re sure you want me in your room.”
“of course i do.”
he sent you upstairs with his key card once the both of you were dressed again and you nervously waited for the elevator to stop on his floor. skipping the whole way to his bedroom, and once inside you tucked yourself away in the bathroom to clean yourself up.
when L entered the room, you were nowhere to be seen. he heard the sound of the running tap in the bathroom and decided to wait for you in the bed. he laid right in the middle, how he was used to sleeping, and watched you with a smile plastered on his face as you walked out of the bathroom and over towards him.
you climbed under the blanket with him and tucked under his arm, head laying on his chest and an arm stretched across his torso.
“your bed’s comfy.”
“it’s a lot more comfortable now that you’re in it.” he placed a hand on your head, “before you fall asleep, i want to tell you id like if you slept here more often. whenever you want, in fact.”
“i will be taking you up on that.” your eyes were closed, sleep beginning to whisk you away, “you’re about to see so much of me you’ll get sick of it.”
as he felt you shift into unconscious, breathing slowed against his chest and your body pressed against his, he was sure he was the luckiest man in world at that moment, “i’d never get sick of you.”
552 notes · View notes
frvnkcastles · 2 months
Note
You’ve written before about groomers and abusive ex boyfriends. I was wondering if you’d be comfortable writing about running into an old abuser who’s obsessive, borderline psychopathic about you. Someone you’ve always hidden from but almost forgot about under the warm umbrella of franks protection. And then he’s there and you’re so scared you try to run, but Frank won’t let you. This guy takes Frank as some kind of psycho challenge and you don’t want him to get hurt, but also feel ashamed about your problems
I know it’s kinda dark so no worries if it’s too much! As always your mental health and wellbeing is the most important thing 💕
TRADE THE PAIN ➵ F. CASTLE
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Summary: You’ve found a safe haven in Frank after an abusive relationship, but your ex resurfaces.
Warnings: Violence, language, references to past abuse but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames
Word count: 1.9k
Author’s note: Thank you for your sweet words anon! I’m sending you so much love, I hope you enjoy this <3
Meeting Frank was the best possible thing that could have happened to you. He was everything you had dreamed of — kind, protective, charming and most importantly, he trusted you and respected you. He wasn’t perfect, struggling particularly with finding himself worthy of you, but he was ultimately a good man and you had absolutely fallen for him, just like he had fallen for you. He treated you like an angel, always gentle and caring with you, and after your previous relationship, it felt so good to be cherished.
In all fairness, it had taken you a while to warm up to him. Your ex had messed you up royally, and you were hesitant to trust another man so soon after escaping the toxic relationship, but Frank had quickly torn down your defenses and shown you just what kind of guy he was. Even when you learned about him being the Punisher, you weren’t scared. You knew he’d never hurt you, that his aggression was only towards those who deserved it, and that was more than you could say for your ex-boyfriend.
With Frank’s help, you changed your phone number and moved to another part of the city, giving you another chance at life; a fresh start. And you were more than excited to share it with Frank. He was understanding of your situation, even offered to go and take care of him for you, but you had insisted on moving on and forgetting about your past.
It worked a little too well, in fact. You were used to looking over your shoulder and avoiding places you knew your ex frequented, but with Frank by your side, that bone-deep anxiety slowly began to fade away. You felt safe with him, and it wasn’t just an assumption — you knew for a fact he was going to protect you no matter what, and it was enough for you to start letting your guard down.
That meant, however, that you definitely didn’t expect your ex to find you.
You and Frank had spent the evening at your favorite diner, occupying yourselves with fries and milkshakes and laughing about his caveman-like eating habits, and it had been the most fun you had had in years. Frank was a simple man but he knew exactly how to entertain you and keep you happy, sometimes with a humble date like this, and it was all you needed to smile and feel happy for days after.
But as you made your way back to your apartment, Frank walking you home, of course, you found your ex standing at the front door of the building. You spotted him from afar, and you froze on the pavement, pulling on Frank’s hand as he realized you had stopped walking, concern twisting his face while looking you over.
”What is it, sweetheart?” he rasped, trying to read your face, but he couldn’t tell what was causing the immense panic all over it. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, his warm presence consoling you as he stood in front of you, forcing you to look from your ex and over to him. He was right there, and he was with you. God, he was so good to you. Why couldn’t things just stay the way they had been for the past months?
With a scared tear rolling down your cheek, you nodded towards the entrance of your apartment building where your ex was standing with an impatient fidget. ”It’s—it’s my ex-boyfriend. He… he found me”, you shuddered, genuine fear turning your body rigid. Your heart was hammering in your chest so hard, it felt like it was going to burst through, and every part of your body was screaming at you to make a run for it. You wished you could have been relieved Frank was there with you, but you felt ashamed and embarrassed that your past was still causing you trouble and you couldn’t just be happy with him.
Turning around, Frank stared at the man who still hadn’t noticed you. ”Alright. Come on, I gotchu. This is your home and he ain’t gon’ invade it. Not while I’m here”, he decided, and despite your reluctance, you didn’t fight back when Frank tightened his hold on your hand and walked you straight to the front door.
At the sight of you, your ex’s face lit up. ”Finally, you’re here. I’ve been waiting for hours. I ringed your apartment but you didn’t answer so I figured you weren’t home. I can’t believe I found you”, he began rambling, as intense and obsessive as you remembered, and it instantly unsettled you. You tried to hide behind Frank, even if you felt bad that he had to be in the between.
”You need to leave”, you spoke up, but your voice was meek and careful, hardly enough to convince him. Thankfully, Frank was on your side.
”You heard her”, he said coldly when your ex remained right where he was. There was a mean stare in Frank’s eyes, and it was no wonder — he didn’t want you to worry, but he had dreamed of the day he could punch your ex in the face. Now that the opportunity was presenting itself, he surely wasn’t going to back down.
”Yeah? And who do you think you are?” your ex snorted, not exactly threatened, which you knew was a grave mistake.
”I’m her boyfriend. Now, I ain’t gonna say this again. Leave, and don’t even think about coming back”, Frank glared at him, taking personal offense in the fact that your ex had the guts to show up like this. ”Can’t you take a hint, asshole? She doesn’t want anythin’ to do with you”, he added, tilting his head at your ex like he was addressing a child.
That pushed him over the edge, and without warning, he swung his fist at Frank. With ease, Frank dodged the incoming punch, and officially in a fighting mood, he carefully let go of your hand and guided you a little further away just to be safe. You didn’t know what to say, so you obeyed and stood aside, watching as Frank grabbed your ex by the neckline of his shirt and punched him in the nose. He did it once, then twice, then once more, until your ex collapsed on the ground.
Frank was about to turn to you and take your hand again, but before he could, your ex had swiped him in the calf with a knife he had pulled from his pocket, causing Frank to stumble with a groan. You flinched, but you didn’t have to do anything when Frank was acting already, brutally stomping on your ex’s wrist so that he was forced to drop a knife. He snatched the knife from the ground and pointed it at your ex, and you were well-aware he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.
You were almost right — Frank wanted to bury the weapon in your ex’s guts, but he wasn’t going to do it in front of you. ”Get the fuck outta here. I don’t wanna see your face ever again”, he spat, his hands balled into fists as he waited for your ex to crawl up from the ground and run away.
And when he did, Frank wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders and steered you to the front door. ”Alright, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice much softer now, and it made you smile weakly. Even though he had a violent streak, he was always so tender with you.
”Yeah, thanks”, you spoke quietly, and he could tell you were still a little uneasy, but he chose not to comment on it as he took you upstairs to your apartment.
Once you were inside, you went to change into your PJs, needing the moment alone to gather your thoughts and feelings. You were grateful to Frank, but you also hated that he had to get involved. It felt like such a burden, like you were far more than he had signed up for, and it made you worry that he was going to get sick of you eventually. Your ex was your problem, so it didn’t feel fair to make Frank take care of it.
Little did you know, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. As soon as you had started dating — Hell, even before that, he had acknowledged that he was going to protect you with his best efforts, and that he was going to help you carry the weight of your past. You helped him too, after all.
You trailed out of the bedroom and saw the light on in the bathroom, so you swiftly figured Frank had gone in to take care of the cut on his calf. A bang of guilt for not looking after him hit you square in the chest, but you swallowed it down. You were feeling more calm now, the shock of seeing your ex slowly retreating, so you drifted back to Frank after grabbing some ice from the freezer.
You found him seated on the edge of your bathtub, his leg hoisted on top of his other one so he could get access to the torn fabric of his jeans. ”Is it bad?” you asked shyly, and quick to reassure you, Frank shook his head.
”Nah, it’s barely anythin’. Piece of shit’s pretty lousy even with a weapon”, he chuckled, trying to make light of the situation, and it did get you to smile.
”I’m sorry”, you sighed while walking over to him and taking his big hand in yours, so you could press the ice pack against his red knuckles.
He frowned while looking at your forlorn expression. ”Sorry for what, darlin’?” he questioned, and with a lick of your lips, you looked down at your feet. He wrapped an arm around your waist and reeled you in, getting you to sit on his lap while he wiped your hair away from your face.
”It’s just so embarrassing. I never wanted you to get hurt. Or to have to deal with him in the first place. It’s not your problem to fix”, you explained, shame loud in your voice. Frank was having none of it. Gently, he tilted your head up, so he could meet your gaze and give you a completely serious look.
”Hey, your problems are my problems now. What kinda boyfriend would I be if I made you deal with it all by yourself, huh? ’Sides, ya do know it’s kinda my area to fight assholes, right?” he reminded with a soft smile. You shrugged, but you couldn’t deny he was right.
”I just wish I didn’t have to worry about him anymore”, you lamented, and nodding in understanding, Frank leaned in to kiss your forehead.
”Lemme take care of it, aight? I promise, it ain’t gonna be a problem anymore”, he swore, and with a budding smile, you dropped your head onto his shoulder. You knew exactly what he meant, but you didn’t argue — if anyone deserved to be on the wrong end of Frank’s fists or gun, it was your ex. And the world would be a better place without him.
”I don’t know what I’d do without you”, you admitted sheepishly, and breaking into a grin, Frank caressed your hair.
”And you never gotta find out, little lady.”
167 notes · View notes
harmslength · 5 months
Text
Milk and Honey —
Paring | Neil Lewis x Reader
Word Count | 4.9K
Summary | Being a mother is no easy task. After a long day of muscle pains, sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion—your adoring husband comes home to help.
TLDR - Post pregnancy hormones, pent up sexual frustration and— oh dear god milk?!
Info | SMUT (18+ only), unprotected sex (p in v), established relationship, breeding kink, lactation kink, mommy and daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy body mentioned, milk sipping and titty sucking (hell yeah)
Notes | posting this now or I genuinely never will. Not my proudest work but here we are. I’m also incredibly aware that I am subjecting y’all to my own weird kinks…Don’t worry! It will only get worse from here :)
This piece is dedicated to my coworker Bay who told me she accidentally took 90 “period cramp relief” pills that ended up making her lactate. Love u girl 🫶🏽
Build Your Own Adventure | you already know ;) tested it out, it’s fiiilllthyyyy
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You laid in a ball on top of your bed. Freshly washed linens and clothes circling you like vultures.
You were exhausted, sleep deprived and you ached all over. Every movement made your muscles tense and your migraine grow.
It’s been three months since you had given birth to your little bundle of joy. Right about now though, your child was a lot more like a bundle of terror.
The baby rarely ever slept, too hungry to sleep and too stubborn to latch. It’s not the babys fault though, you knew that. It’s just—well, it’s fucking hard work.
——
You tried your best to wait up for your husband, you truly did. But your eyes grew heavy and your body aches slowly melted into a soft tingle as you fell into a much needed slumber.
You were awoken by the sound of your bedroom door closing. Groaning at the sudden intrusion of your dreams, you rolled over to look at your intruder.
“You’re home.” You mumbled to him groggily. Neil quickly slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you, pushing off the clothes and freshly folded linen off the bed in the process.
You groaned and reached out for it, a heavy complaint ready to be expelled. But Neil just grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, shushing you with the promise of the laundry being cleaned up later.
“The baby asleep?” He asked while he buried his face in between your shoulder and neck. You felt him take a deep inhale as his fingers trailed down your sore body.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, relaxing at the touch of your loving husband.
“Good.” He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You craned your head slightly and welcomed it.
Neil’s soft hands traced the peek of skin that was exposed below your shirt. Lines of stretch marks covered your stomach, but he didn’t mind. He never did, he loved every part of you.
“Thank you for taking care of the baby,” Neil placed kisses along your collarbones.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” Fingers trailed up your shirt to the soft and supple mounds that were your breasts.
You didn’t even realize it, but milk had soaked through the thin layer of your shirt; dripping down and making it sticky against your skin.
“So lucky to have you,” he echoed, his hands slightly trembling, his fresh hard on pressing into your thigh.
You loved the attention Neil gave you, but with how sore your body was from recovering, the constant care of your baby and the ever-growing pressure from the milk trapped in your breasts; you were almost at your breaking point.
“Neil— baby, not tonight.” You protested and gently pushed him away. Neil clung on though, his desire for you borderline insatiable.
“What’s wrong, is Mommy not feeling well?” He cooed into your ear, making you tingle all over.
He had started calling you that—mommy—right after you both found out that you were pregnant. It was sweet for the most part. Mostly coming off as innocent, but when he said it like that—
His fingers tweaked at your sore nipples, always hard and leaking these days. You winced slightly, clenching your teeth and letting out a soft hiss.
“Come on, use your words Mommy.” He teased, making your lower half grow slightly hot as you attempted to fight off his advances.
“I’m so exhausted, my body—“ He interrupted you with the slide of one his hands ghosting past your navel and onto the radiating heat between your legs.
“Mhmm, keep going.” He urged you to continue.
You were slowly getting overwhelmed, your shirt dampening more and more, your arousal slowly building, slowing making its way up a steady hill as it always did.
“My body is overworked, Neil. I-I love staying home and caring for the baby, but with the feeding and the—“ His hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your mound.
“—changing and never sleeping, it’s been so tough.. I’m just so overwhelmed.” You breathed out, little tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You took a deep, long breath in and exhaled.
Neil understood, or at least made sure that you knew he listened to your every word. He was always attentive and kind with you but something about carrying his child for nine months really pushed him into overdrive.
During the pregnancy you had made a habit— or well the baby had made a habit of craving weird foods at the oddest hours. Neil spent plenty of nights standing in 7/11’s at 3 in the morning, or mixing all kinds of weird concoctions that you asked for.
Pickles and ice cream, a Banquets Salisbury Steak dinner, a whole raw onion— you could go on and on.
Massages and bubble baths became a nightly routine for you as well—as Neil insisted. Even closing up the store earlier so he’d have time to cook you dinner.
You thought about these moments as Neil coddled you close to him. Even with all these wonderful things he’s done, there was never an expectation for repayment or a favor due. You simply being his wife, the mother of his child was more than enough.
Neil pushed back the strands of hair that clung to your forehead, you just knew you looked like a mess.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He consoled you as the tears started to build up, you were exhausted and your pregnancy hormones haven’t exactly worn off yet apparently.
“I know it’s been really hard on you since I’ve been back at the store, but you have been doing such an amazing job.” Neil said softly, running his thumbs over your damp cheeks and kissing the top of your head. He wrapped you close to his chest; the damp patch on your shirt now soaking into his.
He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to look at him.
“You’re the best wife anyone could ask for.” He said earnestly, his gaze passionate and affirming. He always told you this and it never got old. Butterflies would swoon in your chest at the sound of him calling you his wife. It felt like most days you were lucky just to have him.
“But you’re right, this isn’t a job for one person..” He shifted and pulled himself closer to you so you were both eye level.
“Let me take off just a few more weeks, so you can get a break.” He tried reasoning with you but you were having none of it.
“Neil you can’t, you’ve already taken off more time than you should. John and Lucien need you, the store needs you.” You objected. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both have had this conversation.
“They’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Plus I miss you and the baby so much, every minute I’m counting down till I can see you guys next.”
Neil’s words made your heart grow fonder but the answer was still no.
“Neil—“ you protested and finally he caved.
“Okay, okay well at least let my mom come and help, she loves you guys so much and I know she wouldn’t mind.” He offered.
“Are you sure…? I really don’t want to bother her-“
“I’m positive. I can call her tomorrow.” He assured and you pondered over it for a minute. It was a no brainer really, so you agreed.
“Okay..” you relented, nodding your head while he held it in his hands.
“Yeah? Okay.” he nodded with a big goofy smile on his face. He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before peppering your face with little pecks. You laughed, already your dampened mood brightening. He always knew how to cheer you up.
Carefully, he placed himself between your legs, pushing himself up so he was leaning over you. One of his hands traced your hip as he stared down into your eyes.
Your hair had been pulled back into a bun except for the few stray pieces, you had slight bags under your eyes and now even more the milk stain was obvious.
“You poor thing..” He purred, as he took you in.
“Overworking your body to take care of my child..” He brought his hand up to trace your cheek lightly.
“I think it’s time you let daddy take care of you.” He whispered against your ear, making the room grow steadily hotter and hotter.
You looked into his eyes, basically swimming in them as his pupils grew wider with each passing second. He was ready to dive in, to pamper and devour all in one.
Before you could say anything, his hands crawled up your wasted shirt and cupped your enlarged breasts. Every chance he could he’d have his hands on them. Rubbing, groping, licking, pinching—all of the above. It was only lately where you couldn’t stand them being played with and it was driving Neil insane.
You winced and grabbed his wrist, urging him to stop.
“They’re sore.. please.” You begged and Neil leaned down to place another kiss to your hand.
“I’ll be gentle.” Neil assured and went back to what he was doing. He slid the shirt over your head, lifting your arms and slipping it past your head and shoulders.
His hands gently wound their way around your tits, pushing them together and watching as the milk dribbled out, just a little, just enough for a taste.
“Neil—“ you whispered in distress and he shushed you lightly. He craned his head and scooted down so his hard on was pressing up against your heat.
“They’re so full.” He admired, his eyes taking mental shots at the sight of them. He had been touched starved for the past three months, his body basically itching to be close to you.
Since giving birth you’ve both been either too exhausted to be intimate or too busy. Any other chance he could though, he was rubbing himself against you or fondling you. Each time being met with a giggle and swatting him away, or him finishing in his pants while you laid there and encouraged him.
He couldn’t help it though, when it came to you he was a depraved man. Never getting enough of you—truly insatiable.
You watched him as he slowly licked the circumference of your nipple, lapping up the droplets of milk like he was dehydrated. You gasped seeing him relish in the taste and latch his mouth to the bud.
It started slow, his mouth kitten licking and prodding, never using his teeth no matter how badly he wanted to nip at you.
Soon though his focus was completely centered around your tits. His eyes fluttered shut and soft moans escaped his lips, vibrating around it.
It still hurt of course, and not necessarily in a good way. It was painful for him to even touch them but you enjoyed seeing him like this so much that you fought through it. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, knowing he loved when you did that.
That elicited a whimper from him as his eyes snapped open and softened when he met your gaze. Your pupils equally the size of saucers as you stared down at this wonderful sight in front of you.
Neil’s lips latched tighter and gently he started to suck, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as you gasped at the feeling—the pull.
He brought both hands to your breasts as his hips ground into your clothed heat. He had one focus now, and it was drinking every last drop of you till you were spent.
“Fuck, Neil,” you whined, finding all of this oddly pleasurable. This was most definitely new, sure he had sucked on your nipples before but he’s never drank from them.
You watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing labored, body hungry for more. You watched a droplet of milk spill from the corner of his mouth, his throat swallowing, basically gulping down as much as he possibly could.
He pulled off just enough to take a breath, and move to the next one. The one hand that wasn’t being occupied holding your tits in place, slithered down and slipped past your pants and panties, finding a goldmine of wetness waiting for him.
Neil moaned and looked up at you to watch your reaction as he brought two digits to your clit. Moving in slow, diligent circles and making you squirm as you pressed your body up into his fingers. It’s been a long three months for the both of you.
“Does that feel good, mommy? Do you like when I touch you like this?” He teased, making you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from whimpering.
“Y-Yes.” You choked out, slowly losing your mind to his aggressive touches.
Neil licked at his milky lips, savoring the taste before he pressed them to yours, forcing you to taste your own creation.
His tongue tasted sweet, like cantaloupe juice, and you wondered if that’s what it really tasted like. Neil pulled back and smirked at you, his fingers still working you into a frenzy.
“Tastes good right? Tastes so fucking good.” He moaned and finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without even consoling you, he yanked at the hem of your pants and underwear, shoving them down your thighs and passed your ankles.
You clung to yourself now, not entirely used to your post pregnancy body being put on display. Neither of you has made love quite like this in a while.
“Fuck baby,” the words slipped right off his tongue like melted butter. He pried your arms back and hungrily kissed at your chest, slowly making his way down.
His movements were quick and passionate, diving into your body like a sweet dessert. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a trail of spit behind, stopping close to your abdomen and just loving the feeling of your bush rubbing against his chin.
“You just taste so good— I can’t help myself.” He mouthed at your supple skin. His hands still trailing behind him, groping and fondling at every inch of your skin.
“I needed this. I needed this so bad baby, you have no idea.” He whined and his lips trailed over your inner thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, to make you feel good, and he would even as his own erection was pressing harshly against his jeans.
He latched his mouth to your dripping cunt, the warm, wet heat calling out to him, begging to be licked clean.
He did just that, filling the room with lewd slurping sounds as a mix of your moans blended together perfectly. You almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the other room.
“Neil, the baby is sleeping, w-we have to be quiet.” You warned in between a gasp, his mouth mercilessly working you into a mind-bending orgasm.
He sucked especially hard and pulled off, making you clutch the sheets for dear life.
“Yeah?” He whispered to you, his voice low and raspy. Even in the dimming light of the room, as the sun started to settle; you could see him. His lips and chin were slick with your juices. It was like a scene straight out of a porno—a good porno, of course.
You nodded at him and swallowed hard, he wasn’t asking for clarification, he was challenging you.
“Well then we better be quiet, right?” He teased and you nodded again.
His hand gripped your breast and tweaked the nipple, little teardrops of milk spilling out onto his fingers. You winced slightly at the manhandling but let him continue.
“Here, try some.” He said, collecting some of it and shoving his fingers into your mouth. Just when you started to suck them clean, he slipped two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and moan loudly around his digits.
“That’s right, Mommy can take it. Mommy can take it real good.” He praised you and moved both sets of fingers in sync. You clenched around him hard when his thumb swiped up at your already aroused clit. Slow and steady at first but picking up speed quickly.
You mouthed obscenities around him as he continued finger fucking you and he just took it all in. Biting his bottom lip, he was at the precipice of his own desire. The fact that he could do this to you, the fact that he could drive you crazy like this.. it was his only purpose.
Neil became uncomfortably aware of how much clothes he had on shortly after and pulled away just long enough to slip himself free of his confines. You laid there, trying to catch your breath and trying to stop your legs from shaking.
You watched him flip back the buckle of his belt and yank down his trousers and underwear in one swift move.
You stared at his erection, making mental note that the tip was slick with precum, it made your cunt ache more than it’s ever before.
You reached for him in desperation and he met you halfway. Neil pulled himself on top of you and feverishly ground himself against you.
Slipping his cock between your folds, right against your clit and using your own arousal as his lubrication. He bucked into you, a deep growl escaping his lips with each thrust upward.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week..” He confessed with his eyes closed.
“Every time I watch you put the dishes away or bend over to pick something up—“ he slid his cock roughly against your clit once again.
“—all I could think about was fucking you right then and there.” you mewled at his confession though you already knew he wanted to.
“I just want to fuck you over every countertop, rip your fucking clothes off of you and fill that pretty pussy of yours.” This desperate act of him humping against you was pushing you close to the edge, as pathetic as it was to admit. Again, it’s been a long three months.
“Can you imagine that? Us having another baby, your belly all big again—and god those milky tits getting bigger than ever.” He fondled at your breasts, making more warm milk leak from them.
His depraved words only brought both of you closer to the edge. You knew he wouldn’t finish this way, he liked it inside.
You moaned and arched your back with each drag of his cock down your sensitive bud, each movement only producing more and more lubrication.
Your fingers made lines of red down his back as you clawed. Each heave of your chests making the room grow stuffier and stuffier.
“Can you imagine that baby? Tell me how badly you want it.” Neil urged, his hips slowing down, adding more pressure every time he moved towards you.
“Y-Yes..” you said weakly. You were completely loss for words, you had no idea he was so into that. “I can—I can imagine that.” You croaked, which only made a wicked smirk form on his face.
“Just look you, poor thing hasn’t been properly fucked in months. Hasn’t had Daddy’s cock to come all over.” His words basically made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His never-ending teasing making your pussy twitch and physically yearn for him.
Neil felt it, oh he felt it alright and it only drove him more mad. “Ooh you like that don’t you? Why don’t you come like this. Come on, come for me.”
You went to object, opening your mouth to beg him not to make you come like this; like you were some horny teenager rubbing herself off on her pillow, it felt dirty and depraved—which you were by all means— but you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.
Neil stopped you, “No whining, just do it.” He insisted and you could barely contain the high pitched whimper that left your lips as your cavern squeezed around itself, desperate for something to latch onto as wave after wave hit your body over and over again.
You threw your head back and about halfway through your orgasm you remembered the importance of staying quiet.
Neil kept on rubbing his perpetually leaking cock up and down your clit till your thighs twitched and you became desperate to get away.
Now that your opening was slick and so beyond ready, he slowly slid in. Inch by inch, he filled your sensitive cunt. He relished in the feeling, the grip tight and still fluttering from your orgasm.
“Neil!” You gasped, not expecting the burn from the stretch that met you. It hurt, which was to be expected but this felt different compared to what you were used to. It felt like he was tunneling a hole into you. Splitting you but also igniting you in the best way possible.
“Fuuuck…” he drawled out, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked himself slowly in and out, over and over again.
Neil knelt over you, his elbows slotted on each side of your head. He leaned in so his lips were just grazing yours, his tongue slipping out to swipe at your parted lips.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this—you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” He said, emphasizing his words with deeper thrusts. “How much I missed you.”
You felt your ears grow hot as your arousal bubbled up again. It was a heat that was so indescribable and so delicious it made your mouth water. You nodded, your chest rising and falling, labored breaths leaving you.
Neil fell into a slow and brutal pace. You could feel every inch of him, every curve and vein as he fucked you into oblivion. The speed only made your head spin and you found yourself digging lines down his back once more.
“Oh my god, baby. You know how I love it when you do that.” He moaned for you, slotting his head in between your shoulder.
Each word made you wetter and wetter. Soon enough the whole room was filled with soft squelching noises. It only seemed to spur Neil on because in seconds he pulled back, sitting back on his knees and gripped your hips for support as he looked down at you.
“I could come right now.” He said, his glazed eyes roaming over your body. He watched the way his thrusts made your breasts move, watching them jiggle as little droplets dribbled down the curve of them and onto the sheets.
“I could fill you up so good, have you walking around the rest of the day with my come leaking out of you… but I can’t.” He resigned with a sigh and angled his hips slightly upwards before slamming into you full force.
The wind was knocked out of you instantly. Gasping and trying desperately to ground yourself you clawed at the sheets, inevitably pulling them loose from the tucked corners of the bed.
He was fucking you so hard you could hear the loose screw in the frame rattling with each thrust inward.
“Neil please!” You begged but you weren’t even sure for what. For him to slow down? For him to stop? Oh no, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.
“I can’t baby, not when I need to feel you come all over me. Need to see that pretty little face as I—“ He gripped at your cheeks for emphasis, making your jaw hang open and your lips pouty. He leaned over just enough to spit into your gaping mouth and moved your jaw closed so you would swallow it.
“—fuck you into this mattress.” He finished. You felt your chest tighten, all the muscles in your thighs and stomach seizing for a moment as another wave of ecstasy hit you.
His filthy words filled your ears like angels singing and you nodded along, your body already climbing to your next orgasm.
You would do anything he said in this moment as long as he kept doing what he was doing. If he wanted another baby—fine. If he wanted you to scale the Empire State Building—that’s fine too.
You felt pressure building up, like weights were being placed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You knew you could come like this if he kept up his brutal pace but you needed more and well—Neil had no problem delivering.
He moved your legs so they now rested against his shoulders and leaned forward. He went impossibly deep and both of you let out an animalistic moan.
He sped up quick, sounds of his thighs slapping against yours echoing off the walls. He reached for your hand that was bunched in the messy sheets and placed it between your thighs.
“Touch yourself for me.” He ordered and you didn’t hesitate.
You brought two fingers down and started rubbing in rhythmic circles making the deepest parts inside your pussy start to twitch. Neil’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as you watched him tremble at the feeling of you—at the sight of you.
You were so clearly everything to him, and having you like this—your knees to your chest, split open and fucking writhing underneath him.. He’d call it heaven—scratch that—better than heaven.
“I-I’m close.” You choked out, your voice growing higher in pitch as he continued pounding his cock deeper and deeper into you.
Neil’s eyes returned to you, meeting your lust filled gaze before latching his lips down onto your nipple and starting to suck again.
It felt like he was dragging every ounce of energy out of you. Purely sucking the soul out of you.
You brought your free hand up to his hair, latching on and gripping so hard onto his locks you thought you’d rip them out.
“Neil, Neil, neil…” You chanted his name. The bed shook with you both, squeaks and rattling, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. It was too good. Too raw. And there was little to no care in keeping quiet anymore.
“Yeah baby, keep saying my name. Let everyone know who fucks you this good.” Neil purred, removing himself long enough from your tits to speak and then immediately returning back to suck them dry.
“Fuck!” You gasped one last time as you clamped down on him. Everything tensed for a long minute and you swore you blacked out. A soft ringing filled your ears, toes curling beside his ear, thighs trembling.
Neil moaned loudly, his mouth full and vibrating around your sore and hardened nipples. There was pain and pleasure mixing like a lethal cocktail, making you spill all around him.
The base of his cock grew sticky and the wet sounds only amplified. His thrusts grew erratic but never lost their strength.
You watched Neil detach from your nipple long enough to see the milky liquid stain his lips. He gaped at you, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Hunger. Deep and vicious in his eyes.
“Tell me you want another baby.” He said in a strained low voice.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” He ordered. You were surprised he still had the strength to tease you, to make you beg.
“I want it.” You said without hesitating. He was still fucking you through your sensitivity which was starting to make you squirm but he liked it that way.
“Say it again.” He demanded with desperation.
“I want a-another baby Neil.” You could barely get out as he slammed particularly hard into you.
“More.” He all but growled. You could tell he was there, right on the tipping age. He was always more.. demanding when he was close.
“I-I want another baby. Fuck—I love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” The words spilled from your lips without even thinking.
It was a drop of tenderness in an act that would surely get you both sent to hell if you weren’t already married. But it buried Neil, hammering in the last nail towards completion.
Neil stilled for a moment, his full body weight pressing down on you as his thighs shook against yours.
He gaped for a second, the room falling eerily quiet as his orgasm sucked the air out of him. He gasped loudly, “Fuuuck..” drawled from his throat.
You felt him flex inside you over and over again, the head of his member hitting your sweet spot every time a hot gushing dose of come spilled from it.
His hands gripped the back of your knees for support as he pumped the last bit of it deep inside of you.
You tried to catch your breath but under the weight of him, it was proving to be difficult. Before you could say anything though, Neil pushed his lips to yours.
Lazy, sweet and all tongue. He lapped at your lips and then pressed his tongue to the back of your teeth. You hummed into the kiss, pulling him in deeper by the back of his head.
You both laid there for a moment, lip locked and absolutely wrecked. You pulled away just to tell him that he was starting to crush you, but of course, just a second later you heard the crackles of the baby monitor next to you, and soon enough the baby’s cries could be heard.
Neil smiled down at you, that same goofy smile that had you hooked from day one. “I’ll get him, you stay here and rest up.” He said already pulling away and out of you.
“You deserve it.” He added, placing one last kiss upon your nose and turning towards the closet to pull out some fresh clothes.
You deserve it.
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ozzgin · 1 year
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Hai, sweecheeks thanks for accept my request, i'm so really Grateful for that 💋. If you don't mind, do you accept my request again regarding Inuyasha and Sesshomaru.With a beautiful butterfly demon, and sexy but has a fox-like demeanor, she is very elegant and has never been attracted to shika no tama. She just wants to live a quiet life.The beautiful butterfly demon is the girlfriend of Inuyasha and Sesshomaru. (separate) .
I always love you and your blog my dear, sorry I always disturb your time❤️🌹
Hi and no worries! How very unexpected, it‘s my first time writing anything Inuyasha related so I‘m both nervous and excited haha. Let‘s see how this goes.
Inuyasha Characters x Butterfly Demon! Reader Headcanons
Featuring Inuyasha, Sesshomaru and a stunning demon reader.
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Inuyasha
“Eh?” Followed by a prolonged pause and confused blinking. That’s the reaction you always get when people learn you’re Inuyasha’s girlfriend. You’re always amused by it and clap your hands in delight, especially because you get to see Inuyasha’s response to it. “What’s so shocking about it?!” He barks, appalled. To everyone’s defense, it is rather unusual to see a demon of such elegance and charm followed closely by a half-human, unrefined mutt.
But you can’t get enough of his antics. He’s raw and unfiltered. He wears his heart on his sleeve and even when he tries to deny his feelings, you can read him like an open book. Most demons are prideful and scheming as you’ve learned in your very long life, but Inuyasha appeared to you like a breath of fresh air and you’re grateful to see someone with a humane side to them. Humans have always fascinated you and Inuyasha is now your source of never ending curiosity.
Inuyasha, on the other hand, took some time to get used to you. You’re stunningly beautiful yet sly like a fox and he was very suspicious of your intentions in the beginning. Always with a smile on your face, he could never tell what you’re thinking. Your graceful display of power would also remind him of Sesshomaru and therefore his inability to compare, given his human side, so he’d quietly retreat into insecure annoyance. He was running an imaginary race for power, until he’d come to the realization that you were never part of it in the first place. You yearn for peace and quiet, completely uninterested in this competition of strength.
In a way, you both complete each other. Inuyasha has helped you uncover an intricate spectrum of emotions that might’ve remained dormant had you not encountered him. And you’ve allowed him to find a sense of peace. In the tumultuous search for the Sacred Jewel, you’ve taught him that sometimes it’s okay to just enjoy life as it is. His desire for power has slowly been replaced by his blooming love for you.
Your guilty pleasure is teasing him relentlessly. You can easily tell just how attractive he finds you and how embarrassed it makes him. So every now and then you’ll ambush him with flirty innuendos and watch him squirm, frustrated and red-faced, while you tilt your head in innocent confusion. You find his genuineness adorable.
Sesshomaru
While Sesshomaru has grown to be more accepting of humans, he can’t help but feel a certain sense of pride about having a partner of your prestige. You’re both powerful demons and your union has only further spread your envying reputation. It feels almost natural that the two of you ended up together.
It was actually you that softened his views towards humans. He found your interest in the feeble creatures to be downright ridiculous and borderline foolish. Why should you, a vastly superior demon, concern yourself with such pitiful matters? Yet this is what intrigued him most about you. You don’t seem to think like other demons and your behavior and actions are often times unpredictable to him. There’s a mysterious twist to your cunning smile and he’s surprisingly eager to decipher it.
Jaken likes to boast his gratitude for you. Ever since you’ve joined them on their travels, Lord Sesshomaru seems to frown less, and Jaken himself has gained a conversation partner that’s not threateningly taciturn and might punish him at any moment. Rin often marvels at your beauty and charisma and wishes she could grow up to be like you. Just like Jaken, she’s thankful you’ve helped Sesshomaru leave some of his hate behind. His eyes hold less malice, and when rested upon your figure there’s a glint of adoration that can be discerned.
Similar to you, Sesshomaru is entirely indifferent to the Sacred Jewel. He’s confident in his strength and abilities and has no need for external aid. Once this entire mess involving Naraku is over, he might even be tempted to give in to your dream of a peaceful, quiet life. He could use some rest, especially if it’s in your company.
Sesshomaru is very reserved in displaying his emotions, though he can be overly affectionate after brief encounters with other males. Your looks are enough to turn anyone’s head and while he is certain you wouldn’t leave him for anything less, he can’t help the faint jealousy that wells up in his chest. He’d rather let it be known who you belong to. You like his possessiveness, but might occasionally tease him by saying that one simply cannot cage a butterfly. It will rest on your shoulder out of its own volition.
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