#i really do love you muse. please come back for good. or at least for a while.

[amplifyme]

This may never be completed, but I'm posting it here. Because the muse wants me to. Since she's been so quiet all these months, if she's decided to drop in now and make this edict, I'm gonna listen.

The beginnings of a One Breath fic, aka my albatross...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pause. Rewind. Play. “We should stop.” A hand moving up a glossy white inner thigh. Breathy sighs. Fast-forward. Play. The hand now wedged at the apex between her legs, large male knuckles clearly pressing up beneath the obscenely short skirt she wears, manipulating the hidden treasure there.

The ringing of the phone pulls him from this latest repetition of his bedtime routine. He’s compiling a list of his favorite parts, so he knows what to skip to the next time this tape graces his VCR. He’ll know those jagged segments by heart soon. Then he’ll be able to pull them up and zone out enough to maybe sleep.

He pauses the tape and stretches to reach the phone. He greets his caller with dull indifference. “Yeah?”

There’s a hitch of breath on the other end, soft and feminine, and he drags himself up until he’s sitting. “Hello?”

“Fox, is that you?”

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds before his synapses start to fire with something resembling clarity and he recognizes the voice. “Mrs. Scully?”

“Fox, it’s Dana. She’s back. They’ve brought her back.”

His heart gives a great thud, stops for an instant, and then begins to thump crazily in his chest. He breaks out in a sweat, stammers, “Wha-wha where? Where is she? How-?”

“Northeast Georgetown. In the ICU. I’m with her now.”

“I’m on my way.”

It’s not until he reaches the car that it occurs to him: he has no coat, no badge, no cellphone, just his wallet and keys. He scrapes a dusting of snow from the window of the driver’s door with his arm and slides behind the wheel. He doesn’t remember the drive to the hospital when he tries to recall it later. He doesn’t remember anything from when he first arrives at her hospital bed, except that Scully’s eyes are taped shut and she’s covered in wires and tubes. Her mother’s face reflects anger and worry, bewilderment: the sum total of unanswered questions. He sucks it all into his lungs like rarified air and shouts them out in her stead. 

Why. How. When. What’s happened to her? Who did this to her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“She doesn’t want to live in this condition.”

He hadn’t given it more than a glancing thought when she’d asked him to sign as witness to her living will shortly before the X-Files division had been shut down. It was just a formality, and more paperwork to sign off on and forget. Nothing that might possibly come back to bite him on the ass. Just a throw-away.

He forces himself to meet Maggie Scully’s eyes. He’s to blame for this. Because his easy acquiescence to what seemed a simple request has morphed into an ill-advised edict to allow her to die. How is he to carry on with this knowledge? Scully is not, and could never be, a throw-away anything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’ve been told not to call you Fox.”

Melissa Scully is not at all what he had imagined, and he takes umbrage at her new age methods, since her sister clearly can’t.

“I need to do more than just wave my hands in the air.” His arm drops to his side, and he turns away. But try as he might, the first words Melissa said to him ring in his ears with proof of something beyond his comprehension.

He turns back and belatedly rebukes her. “She never talked about you,” He doesn’t understand why he feels the need to strike out at her. But someone has to pay the price.

“Probably not,” Melissa responds with an enigmatic smile. “But she talks a lot about you.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“You don't believe... but you want to. You want to believe more than ever.”

He ignores her and goes in search of their mother. Her pain, he understands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Frohike, in a fucking penguin suit and bearing flowers. Branched DNA, a biological poison, and “Mulder, there’s nothing you can do.”  

A gun shoved in his face by a man who is supposed to be his ally. “You got him killed! You got her killed. That’s not going to happen to me.” A different man dead in a basement laundry room, killed execution style.

“I don’t think you have the heart.” It’s a dismissal, a taunt.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No sleep. And he’s so fucking tired. He hasn’t had more than four consecutive hours of sleep since she was taken. No food. Not for as long as he can remember, though his belly is as hollow as his bones. Time has lost meaning. He only leaves her bedside when he has to. The Scully women take their turns while he’s there but don’t seem to have the stomach for his urgently whispered arguments to run just a few more tests, give it just one more day, don’t give up – it’s too soon.

But she’s running out of time and the Scully women are busy in the hospital chapel or covertly waving burning sticks of incense, biding their own time. All three of them are preparing for the change to come. But he feels like the only one who’s fighting for that change to be Scully opening her eyes and coming back where she belongs. He won’t give up, no matter what it costs him. She wouldn’t give up on him.

He has the insane notion to ask Maggie Scully for permission to marry her daughter. If he’s Scully’s husband, maybe he can call the shots. Maybe he can guarantee her more time.

He is falling, falling, falling, and there is no bottom, no end point. The black hole surrounding him has jagged walls that are slick with blood from earlier battles, and he can’t grasp onto anything with enough friction to slow him down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Karen Ann Quinlan is not a name he wants invoked. The thought of Scully remaining in this condition is distasteful, horrific. How could anyone want that for her? So why can’t he just accept the facts and let her go?

“She was a good soldier, Mulder, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back.”

Her doctor, portly, balding, and resistant to anything outside the norm, rankles him. Everything does. Even the air he breathes is inhaled with a sense of resentment at its necessity. The worse it gets, the more inwardly absent he becomes, until he feels he’s outside himself. Nothing more than a helpless observer of this unfolding tragedy.

“Dana has made our decision.”

He vacillates between anger and grief, both cutting too painfully deep. Between acceptance of the facts and the rejection of them, so clinical and cold. Who is he fighting for? It is for her, or his need for her? Scully has respected him, always, as he has her. But this, this is too much to ask. And underneath it all, his ceaseless, immeasurable rage, and the need for retribution.

“Fox,” Mrs. Scully stands and readies to push through the swinging doors and over a threshold that can’t be uncrossed, solidifying the decision her words made clear. “This is a moment for the family. But you can join us if you want.”

No, no I can’t, he thinks. I won’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He decides this must be the apex of his anger. At least now it has a focus. That black-lunged sonofabitch is responsible for all of this. He’s certain of it. He offers himself up to Skinner, a willing sacrifice of everything he has left in exchange for his shot at vengeance. Justice. Justice. That’s all he wants. Time is running out.

Why? Why? How did this happen? How could he let this happen?

He stops short on his way out the door, sudden clarity blinding him in its accusation. It’s my fault, too. Skinner is honest enough to concur when he voices his fears, and Mulder is stunned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No. This is the apex. This is the source of the fire scorching him from the inside out. This man at the end of a gun barrel in this drab and empty room, cloaked in plumes of smoke. Cigarette Man is the one who has to pay. Otherwise, there is no justice.

“Why her? Why her and not me? Answer me!” His finger is steady on the trigger. Four and a half pounds of pressure is all it will take to paint the walls with brain matter. He wants to light the world on fire. Burn it all down. Rebuild a new one from the ashes. A world where Scully is safe. A place where his sister isn’t gone.

[pyrodigy]

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)

a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.

Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.

And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.

"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."

Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.

You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."

Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.

With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.

You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.

Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."

"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.

If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.

But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.

Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.

But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.

And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.

But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.

The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.

You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.

And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.

However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.

But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.

"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.

A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.

"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.

"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.

That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.

"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.

Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.

And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.

"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.

Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.

"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.

And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.

You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.

"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.

"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.

"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"

"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"

"Haha! Fuck you!"

Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.

"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.

"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."

The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.

Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.

"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.

Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.

"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.

Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.

"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.

But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.

You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.

"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.

"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.

"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.

You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.

"It's a he," you simply replied.

"Well, I couldn't care less about it."

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Okay now that I've reblogged that one post...

Holy shit

Like, please understand me. This is how I already interpreted these relationships after reading Journal 3 but like

Wow Ford really was in a weird kinda complicated gay situationship with Bill and Fiddleford, huh? When he's all alone on Christmas in tbob he's all like "Oh yeah haha of course...of course. You have. Yeah. You have a wife, F. How could I expect you not to leave. I am totally not secretly hoping you'll turn around and come back to me, or that you'll even bring your family back here if you have to so I can see you. I'd retreat to my dreams but I haven't seen my muse in weeks and I miss him so badly. I'm so alone"

He and Fiddleford aren't even dating but it's hard not to get the light impression that this situationship is such that Ford kinda treats Bill like his comfort triangle from his head and dreams and Fiddleford like his comfort best friend in his lab. Like he's sad on Christmas that his boyfriends left him alone, you know? Of course it's definitely more complicated than just that, but they are dear companions to him

Or when Bill finally comes back and Ford is pissed

"You return now? After all of that, after me missing you so badly, almost dying, wondering if I'd dreamed it all up. You return now like it was no biggie? Did you ever mean the things you said? Did you not find some other scientist or some other big brain to talk up? Have you found someone else? Another partner?"

And then Bill, dodging the question was like "Funny you think I'm cheating on you as if you haven't been spending all that time with F. The side bitch. The third wheel. You've even considered telling him everything, even though you know he has second thoughts. Heh. A little birdie told me he dreams of shutting down the project even."

Leading Ford to be like "Aw hell how could I accuse my muse of such a terrible thing when I haven't been a saint. He's right! F has been much less motivated lately and I've just gotten so paranoid from the isolation. I'm so sorry for my baseless accusations."

I don't even have a lot to say I just love these three. Fiddleford put up with a lot of shit from Ford while also dealing with his own problems and trying to help him regardless, while Stanford saw him as a comfort and a good friend but ultimately someone who was of lesser mind than he and couldn't see things through his eyes, while Bill was in Stanford's corner actively making him worse and contributing to his isolation (trying to get him to drop Fiddleford and actively feeding his paranoia), while Stanford was seeing both relationships of his with stars in his eyes and rose tinted glasses because he refused to do some introspection

There's so much stuff that journal 3 and tbob added to the equation that's just bad/shitty all around. Can't believe Ford went through a double divorce/breakup despite not having ever been married (or, at least, despite not even officially dating them sorta)

The entire situation in the past is just tragic and hilarious and concerning all at once and that's what I like the portal trio for tbh

[psychesalcove]

Can I please get ֶָ֢ "wait, don't pull away...not yet," with Percy Jackson for the event.

Take your time and thank youu~

✧.* percy jackson x gn reader

part of psyches, ' in memory of those who chose the sea' event !

-> want to participate in the event?

— my posts are completely race and body type friendly (unless stated in title) so no descriptive words here of someone's skin tone or body shape!! feel free to interact:)

an: just realized I hadn't wrote a an for my other event posts, but I loved writing every story so ty for requesting!! anyways, this is a rlly cute prompt with percy (but let's be fr this guy is always cute in some way lmao)

you placed your bowl into the sink of Sally's and Paul's apartment, attempting not to make much ruckus with the other dishes in the sink. you felt percy come up behind you, him alerting you of his presence by placing a gental hand on the small of your back. "hey you," he mumbled lightly, resting his head on your shoulder.

"hi hon," you replied, eyes roaming over the dishes from the wonderfully cooked meal sally made earlier. "d'you want me to do the dishes? it's the least i can do," you asked, feeling bad and not wanting sally to do dishes after cooking.

percy shook his head and breathed out a chuckle. "you don't need to, baby. mom n paul have a system set up: if she cooks he cleans, vise versa." he explained, hands now around your waist.

you hummed lightly in thought. "sounds like a good system," you said, turning around so your face was practically shoved into percys' chest. "they remind me a lot of my parents," you mused.

you felt percy tilt his head to the side. "yeah?" he asked, brining his face down to press a kiss to your hairline. "how?" he asked; tone filled with love and warmth.

"i guess, just how they act around eachother," you mused. "like each other is all they need in the world," you countined, putting your ear over where his heart was and listened to the steady beats.

"they are pretty cute, aren't they?" he says more like a statement rather than a question. "y'know, sally said that when she first saw us together, we reminded her of her and paul," he countined, smiling fondly at the memory.

"really?" you asked, one of your hands rubbing slow circles on percys back.

percy hummed. "yeah," before he could say anything else, sallys voice cut through the peaceful aura that had been created in the kitchen; her asking if the two of you were ready to watch a movie.

you breathed out a small laugh, and you shouted back to her, saying you could be in the living room in a minute. you made a motion to leave the embrace, but percy had other thoughts. "wait, don't pull away..not yet," he mumbled as he pressed yet another kiss into your hairline.

"perce, the movie is probably ready to play," you laughed as he only pulled you closer to him.

"we can make popcorn in here," he said, removing one arm from around you; but keeping the other arm securely around your waist. he reached up into the cabins and quickly grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn.

"mom! we're making popcorn, d'you n paul want a bag?"

[echobx]

husband & business man!Rafe hcs

◆ he'll be coming home from some dumb golf game or something boring and it was so annoying that he has to let it all out by fucking you into subdrop

◆ and then he'll be all sweet after peppering you with kisses to bring you back to reality

◆ but the first time it happened he was actually scared that he hurt you and kept rambling, like "shit baby, I didn't think that was even a real thing. you good? can I keep going or do you need a break?"

◆ and he's never been good at aftercare, but he gets into it and somehow it's incredibly fulfilling to carry you around after and wash you and put you in your favorite pjs so you can sleep and regain your strength

◆ and the morning after he'll make you breakfast in bed and shower you with compliments of how good you were to him the night before

◆ and that rhythm repeats once or twice a month because that's just how his work life is

◆ and he's a busy man, so every time he leaves for a project somewhere else he drags you with him because "we gotta get a scratch away map and scratch off all the countries I made you cum at least five times in a row"

◆ and although he's a doggy kinda guy, he's not appalled by doing a little missionary once in a while because you look so pretty when you cry because his dick is just that huge

◆ and he'll kiss away the tears and tell you to not be such a little bitch about it and just take it like a good girl

◆ and you'll nod, because who are you to argue with him over it because you know he's right

◆ still the tiny fight just always gets him to fuck you a little harder every time you do it

◆ he'd say shit like "gonna fill you up and get you pregnant like a slut" but he's also the one who made you get on birth control, so you know he doesn't actually mean it

◆ but he does mean it when he says he wants to make a little tape in case you can one day not go with him on a trip so the both of you have something to work with

◆ and you do it and it's not bad but not very good either but he doesn't care at all bc "look at that, such a pretty pussy taking all of me. god, you sound pathetic when I fuck you, baby. I love it."

◆ he'd tell you to get your nipples pierced but you refuse at first bc that shit hurts but he keeps saying it and once you do it he acts all surprised "oh baby, you really shouldn't have. that's the best birthday gift ever."

◆ ofc he pays for your manicures and for every little thing. but especially the manicures bc god damn he loves it when you scratch him like a wild animal

◆ he loves showing you off too, especially to his friends who still don't understand how you got him to settle down

◆ and he'll be a real ass over it too, telling Topper and Kelce to look at how hot you are

◆ and the first time round they actually did look at you, but just a bit too long for his taste and then he threatened them and they know him well enough to be actually scared

◆ and you're so sweet and bubbly and he's always looking at you

◆ especially when your eyes are fixed on some other girl who keeps eyeing him and he knows you could tear her to pieces if he let you

◆ the thing is, you know he only wants you, you know there's no real threat, but it still makes your blood boil to know that they think they have a chance

◆ sometimes you even let him fuck you right in front of them, like that one time at a party in a hot tub

◆ and he'd never deny your wish to show off how good he is at fucking you

◆ but once you get back home he makes sure that you remember that he is the one in control

◆ and you'll babble on and on about how you can't take it anymore but you both know it's a lie so he keeps railing into you until you squeeze him so hard that he sees stars

◆ and every time it ends the same, with the two of you cuddling and him showering with "I love you's" and whispered musings, telling you "if I hadn't already married you I'd do it again and again"

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

[shootingmorningstar]

[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic

could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.

please and thank you! 🫶

anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ

thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER

Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.

Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ

With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.

That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.

Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.

The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.

He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.

Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.

He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.

Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.

When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.

Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.

He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.

If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.

Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.

Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ

His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ

Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.

He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.

Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.

Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.

He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡

first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ

i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3

[signedeclipse]

Signed with Love - Upper Moons

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely fem!readers! Its valentines/love letters cards from your favourites <3

Characters - Akaza | Daki | Douma | Gyokko | Gyutaro | Hantengu | Kaigaku | Kokushibo | Muzan | Nakime

Series Parts Kamaboko Squad - HERE The Hashira - HERE

Akaza

To the girl of my dreams, Happy valentines! I'm sure you thought i'd forget sorry about last year, but I've got plans and everything. Theres a light show in the city, if you want to come I'm sure we can stop for some snacks and i'll get you the best view of them. If that sounds like a plan, i'll be by your house the moment the sun goes down. Can't wait to see you dolled up, Akaza.

Daki

Dove, Free your schedule on the 14th, I won't let plans get in the way of us spending this year together after so many times of it falling through! Oiron duties always take precedent, but I'm sure I can pull some strings to spend the night with you, the "new" girl, to do some "training". Dress for the part, I know you can lie your way in. Good luck, even if I know you won't need it, 'Warabihime'

Douma

Hello, lovely! I am over the moon knowing i'll get to spend valentines with you again! I miss you more and more every day you are away... How about this year we sneak away from the cult and I show you someplace you might really enjoy, and we can pick up some treats you like to keep at the estate! Don't leave me waiting too long. You know who ♡

Gyokko

To my precious muse, This velentines marks a decade together, and I figure its about time I let you closer than ive let any other. I know I can be more conservative in sharing my art, but this year i'd like to take you into my studio and teach you some of my craft. You know where to find me. Wear something you don't mind having ruined. Gყσƙƙσ

Gyutaro

Angel, I promised i'd always ask, so I expect you to say yes when I ask you to be my valentine again. It's too risky to go out with being on the radar, so when you come back home keep low and we'll do something simple. I can't risk getting you in trouble. Don't stray too far, GT.

Hantengu

Dearest, If possible, I would really appreciate if maybe you might consider being my valentine Whatever you'd like is yours Please H/S/K/A/Uro/Z/Ura

Kaigaku

Princess, I know you'll say yes anyways, so instead ill congradulate you for keeping me intrigued for so long. Long enough to call you my valentine. I'll be home to see you the moment the sun drops, and we can spend all night hanging out. I like you better where no one else can chew on you like eye candy, so I'll bring some snacks you like if it keeps you inside, Don't get too flattered, Yours, Inadama

Kokushibo

To the most beautiful woman I know, I would be honoured if you would decide to be my valentine once again. If you are inclined to accept my invintation, know that not a drop of the night would be wasted on anything you wouldn't like. You know you can trust me. I anticipate your responce, 黒死牟

Muzan

To the only sunshine I require; With this letter is a box of clothing. It's all custom to your fit and yours now, pick whatever you like and wait outside the gates of tokyo by sundown tonight. We'll be visitng some places I know you've wanted to see, and I'll make sure it's not on an empty stomach. Don't leave me waiting, M. Kibutsuji

Nakime

My dearest lullaby I am not one to partake in holidays, however, I cannot help myself when it comes to you. I was hoping you would be my valentine; not just today, but in life as well. There is a concert hall I used to perform at, and I would like to bring you there to hear the music I was so very fond of. It is very formal, so if you need any help getting ready you have my assistance. I miss your sweet song, Nakime Otokawa

Authors Note - This took me so long ahhhh thank you for your patience darlings <3 The tags took me longer than writing this entire thing /j

Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.

[starrvsn]

౨ৎ BEWITCHED ⠆OSCAR PIASTRI 𖥻81 !

PAIRING ⠆singer-celeb!(oc)reader x oscar piastri, exes-to-lovers!au.

FACECLAIM ⠆laufey

ᵎᵎ EVERYTHING IS FICTION ㅤᵕ̈

ynsannasource tweeted!

WHEN WAS SOMEONE GOING TO TELL ME Y/N AND OSCAR WERE TOGETHER WAY BACK WHEN ??????

view replies

﹫daydrmer WAIT WHAT???

⤷ ﹫ynnation i thought this was common knowledge 😭

⤷ ﹫daydrmer common knowledge for who !? y/n has always been so private about her relationships

﹫ynluvbot only the real ones know 🤞🏽

﹫81piastri RUE WHEN WAS THIS ???

⤷ ﹫dwnuderpiastri before his F1 debut apparently

﹫lan4norris PLS i need to know what happened between them

﹫oskrttt81 omg why do i feel like he would listen to her music before races 😭

⤷ ﹫vrmvroomf1 me when im delusional

⤷ ﹫mcclarenboys4lyfe imagine his tech just playing her music over the radio during a race 😭

⤷ ﹫koalaop81 bro would have war flashbacks 😭😭

﹫magnolia.sanna yeah she def wrote songs about him

—

ynsannasource tweeted!

a little update on y/n and oscar! after ALOT of digging i found an archived post from oscars instagram.

view image below:

oscarpiastri my baby is so talented 🤍

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﹫f1goss the nosiest person award goes to 🏆

⤷ ﹫ynsannasource girl please you're a gossip page

⤷ ﹫f1goss got me with that...

﹫magnolia.sanna FUCK she had to have written at least half the album about him

⤷ ﹫livefastpiastri what love will do to you is definitely about him omg

﹫papaya.mclrn does anyone know why they broke up? or like how long they were together for?

⤷ ﹫prettiestyn apparently, this is what i heard at the time but they both had mutually agreed to part ways because y/n was gaining so much traction on her music career and oscar was beginning his f1 career that following year. especially since they were long distance for majority of their relationship a lot of people thought it was really straining them from doing what they wanted, not sure how long they were together for tho

⤷ ﹫dreamingofyn i think they were together almost 4 years

﹫pasteypiastri new oscar lore just dropped

﹫ferralforyn i love the oscar and yn crumbs

liked by lilyhme, oscarpiastri, beabadobee, alex_albon and more

ynsanna hi everyone! my single ‘dear soulmate’ is out now <3 listen in on where ever you stream your music, i love you all so much thank you for always supporting me mwah 🩷

view comments

bewitchedluv babe wake up!!! new y/n single just dropped!!!

piastri81bakery OSCAR IN THE LIKES ??!

⤷ fan11 FUCK BROS LURKING

⤷ fan12 wonder how he feels being someone’s muse 😩

alex_albon loved the song!!

⤷ 23lexbon ALEX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREE ??

⤷ lilyhme﹫23lexbon i put him on hahah

⤷ lilyhme﹫alex_albon ....WAIT YOU LISTENED WITHOUT ME ????

landonorris guys-guys what happening to me *turns into a warewolf*

⤷ lan4norris oh! okay…

⤷ bestiepierre10 trying to steal pierre’s brand i see

⤷ pierregasly can't outdo the doer i fear

georgerussel63 the feelings i felt listening to this

⤷ logansargeant alex blasting this on full volume in the garage got everyone in their feels

⤷ lilyhme i know there had to be a mechanic that cried

feelsforf1 they way half the grid is here 😭

⤷ alex_albon i put them on what can i say ??

⤷ lilyhme NO i put them on, give me my flowers >:^(

⤷ ashmartini148 damn near everyone but oscar 😭

yndoll yeah this song is def about oscar

charles_leclarc collab ???

⤷ fan04 PLEASE THIS HAS TO HAPPEN

⤷ fan05 I CAN DIE IN PEACE IF IT DOES

⤷ fan06 this and oscar and yn getting back together will be enough for me

danielricciardo cried during my workout, thanks y/n !

⤷ lance_stroll no pain no gain 🦾

fan07 everything is slowly falling in place…

fan10 hope oscar listens to this and comes crawling back because i would

fan09 the feral need for them to get back together is crazy

﹫ethunreal they way everyone is psychoanalyzing the song

⤷ ﹫starletyn what is there to analyze tho…. it is about him

﹫048122 yeah she’s so not over him like girl let him go

⤷ ﹫prettiestyn they split to focus on their careers like good for them but fuck i wouldn’t be over him too if i saw them everywhere

﹫mistyskies no because y/n was the reason i got into racing when she was with him during formula 2 and now he’s in f1 like it doesn’t feel right without her

﹫stellarf1 okay but the whole paddock under her comment section???

⤷ ﹫fan11 speaks volumes imo 👀

⤷ ﹫fan they def know about them being together

﹫yukipookie does he even have feelings for her still like… it’s giving one sided

⤷ ﹫sonnamyheart naw her music plays everywhere he def thinks about her

liked by lilyhme, landonorris, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and more

ynsanna new location unlocked: monza! thank you for ferrari for inviting ❤️

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fan14 guess the collab will be happening

fan15 can literally smell a collab from the fourth slide

alex_albon it was so nice meeting you!

⤷ lilyhme criminal that you met her before i did

⤷ alex_albon i facetimed you and you didn’t answer… sounds like your fault

⤷ lilyhme blocked and deleted

estibestie we all know what this means right???

⤷ leclarc16wishes charles is on his way to steal oscars girl??

⤷ fan16 NO YN&OSCAR LOVE REDEMPTION

fan17 they had to have crossed paths PLS

landonorris no fair >:(( come to mclaren garage next time!

⤷ ynsanna invite?

⤷ fan12 SLY LANDO NORRIS

⤷ fan13 we all know what youre doing

georgerussell you’re lucky you make phenomenal music, it was lovely seeing you!

carlossainz55 y/n is so much prettier in person, muy bonita!

⤷ fan18 oscar is punching air i know it

⤷ fan19 yeaaa shoot ur shot carloss

francisca.cgomes please come to more races!!! i had an amazing time speaking with you

⤷ ynsanna we’ll have to see… but it was so lovely meeting you 🤍

fan20 oscar needs to do something asap before one of the others take her

﹫livesoilove post replies

﹫fan21 OKAY ITS HAPPENING

﹫fan22 omg my manifesting did work

﹫fan23 so deserved omg

﹫fan24 i love this for them :’)

﹫fan25 their stories too, they def were togetherrr

oscar piastri's story replies

landonorris tfti :(

danielricciardo glad my pep talk actually worked :D #aussiebrothers4lyfe

loganseargent bro licked the plate clean

y/n's story replies

maudeapataw IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

georgerussell having dinner with the man you wrote your song about i see

yourbff ya'll didn't talk at all or look at each other during the grand prix but you'll have dinner with him??? respect.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, maudeapataw, oscarpiastri and others

ynsanna enchantment in the air

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aussiepiastri81 i wonder who that is on the second slide

ynfan bruh is that george russell i thought we were rooting for oscar ???

⤷ starletyn girl...

magnolia.sanna OUR RED STRING LOVERS

pierregasly the seals look just like yuki!

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 cute?

⤷ pierregasly no, small and lazy.

⤷ ynsanna pls take your beef else where ❤️

⤷ pierregasly y/n who do you think is cuter me or yuki

⤷ ynsanna please don't make this into a competition

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 we won't because if we did i'd win :)

pasteypiastri pov: everyone knows who you're with but you soft launch reguardless

⤷ sonnamyhear and i'd eat it up, bones and all

landonorris tfti :(

⤷ oscarpisatri your fomo is honestly concerning

⤷ landonorris surprised you know what fomo means.

⤷ oscarpisatri i'm not like checo relax

⤷ schecoperez ouch :(

⤷ fan26 OSCAR UPGRADED FROM LURKING IN THE LIKES TO COMMENTING LFGG

sanpiastriluver y/n and oscars stories just one day apart :)

fan27 using y/n's song is soooo obvious, i love it.

fan28 just because you don't put the artist doesn't mean we don't know who's singing

fan29 bro fr said out of sight out of mind

fan30 they're just making it to easy atp

⤷ username a little to easy

fan31 the song choice is so cute :')

fan32 why do i feel like the soft launching was probably oscars idea

⤷ username it probably was LOL

⤷ username a peak introvert moment

liked by ynsanna, danielricciardo, landonorris, alex_albon and others

oscarpiastri always find your way back home 🫂

tagged: ynsanna

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dreamypiastri the hannah montana reference ????

⤷ sannamyheart knowing y/n she probably forced him to watch it

⤷ ynsanna and he loved every second of it

yndreamland is this a dream ????

pookieyuki oscar hard launching before y/n??

⤷ alex_albon lando owes me $50 now

⤷ f1kisses LMAO NO WAY THEY BETTED

⤷ landonorris thought i knew my teammate better than this 😣

ynsanna just a girl and her baguette 🤭

⤷ oscarpiastri me or the baguette?

⤷ ynsanna ...next question

danielricciardo remember me when yall get married, knowing i helped get you two back together again

⤷ rickycado03 in daniel we trust !!!!

landonorris no thanks lando for the picture of us???

⤷ ynsanna you crashed our date :(

⤷ landonorris … i wouldn’t say crashed i like to think i made it better oscar is boring anyways

⤷ ynsanna we were having much fun before you came thank you very much >:^(

⤷ alex_albon yeah y/n defend your man !!!!!!

⤷ landonorris who's side are you on ?????

⤷ alex_albon not yours duh.

liked by lilyhme, oscarpiastri, mclaren, troyesivan, yourbff and others

ynsanna home sweet home 🤍

tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri and i wouldn't have it any other way ❤️

⤷ ynsanna never again 🤍

yourbff MY BABIES ARE BACK TOGETHER AGAINNNN

ynnation its like nothing ever happened :''')

fan33 so cute 🥹

mclaren you're welcome whenever you like y/n!

⤷ pookieyuki our certified wag

⤷ starletyn yn supremacy !!

fan35 epitome of red string lovers

fan34 you guys are so cute i think i might be sick

lilyhme you guys are the cutest couple ever !!

⤷ alex_albon cuter than us?

⤷ lilyhme hush you

logansargeant in my mind you guys were always together, glad to see you back 🫡

⤷ ynsanna logan :''(

⤷ landonorris words to make a grown man cry fr

danielricciardo i will be the best man at yall's wedding right :)

⤷ landonorris get in line buddy

⤷ alex_albon the mc more like....

georgerussel63 still cannot believe you all thought i was the one dating yn

⤷ ynfan not my proudest moment...

⤷ oscarpiastri we don't even look alike too

⤷ georgerussel63 yeah, im much taller and better looking

maxverstappen1 does this mean we all get to watch y/n when she goes on tour??

—

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[forever-rogue]

Hi! I’m the anon that asked if you’re taking requests for Joel and aaaah I’m so happy you still are! <3 could you pretty please write something where the reader surprises Joel by baking him a little cake or something for his birthday? And he’s so shocked not only by the sweet gesture, but because he knows it was probably a huge hassle to try to gather all the ingredients needed for that in the QZ. So, he pulls her in for a big kiss and is like “you did this for me???” And if you’re comfortable, maybe you could include some smut so Joel can show his appreciation 😌 thank you so much! xx 🥰❤️

AN | Omg, please, this is so sweet!❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re up to something.”

“Shit, fuck, damn it Joel!” you shrieked as he walked into the bedroom and found you on the floor, crouched near the bed. You’d smacked your head on the edge of the nightstand when you’d startled at his sudden intrusion. You hissed as you rubbed at the already sore spot and landed on your butt as you glared at him.

“Baby,” he did his best, although it was still a vain attempt, to hide the bemused expression on his face. He kneeled down next to you, and replaced your hand with his own, making sure there was no visible injury, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you huffed, glaring at him without any bit of malice, “maybe you could announce yourself and not sneak up on me!”

“I wouldn’t have to sneak up if you weren’t being so secretive and clearly hiding something from me,” he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow as you seemed to deflate slightly. He chuckled warmly before reaching over and touching your cheek, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “what are you up to, huh?”

“I’m not up to something,” you insisted….you lied rather. You were absolutely lying to him, but it was for a good reason. You were planning a surprise for his birthday and for once you wanted it to be an actual surprise. So yeah, you were being a little secretive and sneaking around, but it was all in the name of love…and birthdays. He’d see soon enough, and you hoped it would be worth it all, “maybe you’re just getting old and seeing things.”

“Wow,” he sat back on his haunches as you offered him a sweet little smile. Joel was older than you and you enjoyed teasing him about - affectionately of course. Everything and anything related to Joel filled you with affection and fondness, “you’re really hitting all the sore spots today.”

“Ha ha,” you rolled your eyes, absentmindedly touching the bump on your head, “you’re hilarious, Miller.”

“Old and hilarious,” he grinned, and you were glad to be sitting because that smile always made you weak in the knees. He had the prettiest smile and it lit up his whole face; you loved making it come out as much as possible, “and you are tenacious and sneaky.”

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of me,” you refused to look at him as you stood up and stretched, making sure the blanket was hanging down to cover the underside of the bed. You held out your hand to him, helping to gently hoist him to his foot. Not that he needed help, but you liked the idea that he too needed your help at times, “considering there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m not stupid,” he reminded you, hands on his hips as he looked at you, “and I know you’re up to something.”

“Joel-”

“I’ll tell you what,” he insisted softly, “I’ll drop it if you make it worth my while.”

“Bribery,” you mused softly, “that’s what we’re resorting to these days. How very interesting. But, I’ll indulge - what’s your price?”

“My price,” he took a step closer, “is at least one kiss.”

“One kiss,” you raised an eyebrow and he nodded, clearly looking pleased with himself, “seems like a low cost. Cutting yourself short?”

“I said at least one,” he settled his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body, “now what do you say?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’ve got everything now,” your face felt like it was going to break in half from how hard you were smiling. You took the chocolate and tucked it into your bag, keeping it safe and secret until you were ready to use it.

“Holy shit,” Stacy nudged your side gently with her elbow, “I can’t even remember the last time I had a fresh baked…anything.”

“I know,” you sighed softly, “I’ll save you some o-or make a whole other cake. I hope he’ll like it.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” the serious look on her face made you laugh softly, “what person wouldn’t love a freshly baked cake? Hell, at this point even people that don’t like cake or chocolate would be dying to get a piece.”

“Well I guess if it all works out, I’ll open a smuggler’s bakery and keep everyone nice and happy,” you knew that it was unrealistic but sometimes it was nice to keep these sorts of dreams alive. Stacy pressed a kiss to your cheek, happy to hear the joy in your voice. 

“You really love him, huh?” she asked as though it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Your face grew warm as you focused your gaze on your feet. You bit the inside of your cheek before turning back to look at her and nodded slowly, “it’s almost disgusting how sappy the two of you are with each other.”

“I doubt we’re that sappy with each other,” you insisted; you lived in the belief that most people saw you as nothing but a lovesick puppy following Joel around, “it’s probably more like me being a pathetic fool for him.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she insisted firmly, “that man looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in this entire fucked up world.”

“Stace-”

“Don’t argue with me,” her voice was firm but fond, “I would never tell a lie and I’ll absolutely never lie to you.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender before shaking your head in amusement. Before either of you could say anything else, a shadow loomed over you and cut through the sunlight. 

You looked up and found Joel standing there with an amused expression on his face. You held up your hand and gave him a meek little wave and a little smile, “hey Joel.”

“Hey baby,” he held out his hand to you, an invitation you always accepted with glee. He pulled you up and into his arms for a warm hug, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “she’s right you know. Don’t argue with her.”

“At least one of you has some sense,” Stacy high fived Joel before taking a few steps back from both you, “would you look at the time! I’ve ugh...gotta go!” 

She turned around and took off and you watched her go, shaking your head, “she’s not very subtle, is she?”

“Just about as subtle as you are with whatever you’re hiding,” he’d been trying for almost two weeks now to figure out what your little plan was. You weren’t going to give in - not until the actual day was here. You wanted this to be a real surprise for once. You put your hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. 

“Let it go,” you sing-sang at him, “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on this. Don’t you think if there was something going you’d have found out by now?”

“Not necessarily,” he shrugged, running a hand through his dark locks, “you could be in for the long con.”

“Joel,” you moved past him and looked to see if he was going to follow, “let it go. ‘sides you promised that you’d drop it in exchange for a kiss. If I recall correctly, I gave you plenty of those.”

“There’s always room for more of those,” he easily caught up with you and draped his arm around your shoulders, “if you’re willing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shrugged him, “hurry up and maybe you can have some more.”

“Yes ma’am.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d turned on the record player, a gift that Joel had managed to get for you a while back. You loved it a terrible amount; it was something you’d mentioned in passing a few times and he’d made sure to get for you. Now you listened to it whenever you got the chance.

The small apartment, that you’d tried so hard to make feel like a real home, was pristine and smelled like fresh chocolate cake. You were currently perched in front of the oven, looking in every few moments to make sure it wouldn’t burn. You wanted everything to perfect - as perfect as it could all get these days. 

It was Joel’s birthday today. It was not the first one you’d spent together, but it was the one in which you were aware that it was his birthday. He’d never told you when it was before, but you’d managed to coax it out of him. It had taken a lot for him to put his guard down around you, but did it over time, slowly and with tons of love. Just like he’d done for you. 

But since today was the first real birthday you were celebrating, you wanted to make it a memorable and special day. At one point he’d mentioned that he used to love all things chocolate, including chocolate cake. 

And it had been difficult to actually get everything for the cake, weeks of running around and finding the right people for the right things. So yes, Joel had been right on the money that something was going on. Little did he know that it was something just for him. 

There were some fresh flowers on the table, ones that you’d grown yourself in one of the community gardens. They were among a few other things you’d set up to make it clear that you were actually celebrating his birthday. Some makeshift decorations livened the place up as well. Maybe it was silly, or cheesy, but you really wanted this day to be everything. 

Once the cake was cooled and your frosting was made, you iced the cake, making sure the chocolatey goodness was spread all over the fluffy layers. It had been a long time since you’d baked - given that the opportunities were few and far between - but you were pretty impressed with yourself. It seemed like it would be delicious, and you had been able to make a second cake to share with your friends. It wasn’t much, but it was a treat that people would love.

Your heart started beating wildly when you heard his familiar footsteps in the hallway before he slowly opened the door. Despite the fact that you knew he was coming in, you still flinched when you heard his familiar sigh as he stepped inside. 

The smell was the first sign that something was different, the second was the flustered look on your face as you held up your hands and waved them around accompanied with a small, “ta da!”

“What’s all this?” he asked softly, looking around the decorated space before settling his focus back onto you, “baby.”

“Happy birthday, Joel!” you beamed as you bounced over to him and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He hugged you back just as tightly, burrowing his face in your neck, “surprise!”

“You remembered,” he whispered as you pulled back and kissed him softly as you nodded. 

“Of course I did,” you grinned, “now that I finally got it out of you, I’m never going to forget! I also happened not to forget that you said that chocolate was your favorite type of cake. So…”

You moved to the side so he could get a proper look at the cake on the counter. His expression softened even further, as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “you made cake.”

“I made cake,” you confirmed, tenderly touching the side of his face. He closed his eyes and preened into your touch before wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, “hopefully it’ll be good. Preemptive apologies if it’s not.”

“I don’t even want to know how you managed to get all of these ingredients,” he should have known that you’d do something like this, “wait a minute…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you put a finger to his lips before he could even say anything else, “you were right this whole time. I have been up to something…and this just happens to be the thing I was up to.”

“I knew you were lying to me,” he chuckled fondly, “I always know when you’re up to something.”

“Well, I hope you’ll accept my sincere apologies and some cake,” you made a small sound of surprise as he wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto the table. You made a small sound of content as he stepped between your legs, his large hands cradling your face, “and the flowers. I grew those myself, thank you very much.”

“And they’re beautiful,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “but still not nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Joel,” you put your hands on his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze, “stop trying to be such a romantic when this day is about you!”

“The two things are not mutually exclusive,” he insisted as you snorted in amusement. He caught your eye for a moment, his big brown eyes soft studying yours intently, “I love you, you know.”

“Yeah,” your heart constricted at the affection he so easily gave to you. Joel was a hard man, and it took a long time for him to be so open and free with how he spoke to you and how he loved you. And you treasured each and every moment of it, “I know. I love you, Joel. Do you want some cake?”

“I want some dessert,” he agreed and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as he looked you over. You felt the warmth spread through your body, felt that familiar tingle start in your core as you bit your lip. Joel was sure that sight would kill him one day, “and then I’ll have some cake too, I think.”

“Joel,” his name sounded more like breathy whisper, “are you sure you don’t just-”

“We’ll have it all,” he promised, “really. I…thank you for this. All of it. It’s more than anything I could have ever dreamed of. Really.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you brushed your lips over his, “I wanted to do it. I loved doing it. I love you.”

“Baby, you’re goin’ to be the death of me,” he groaned softly.

“I certainly hope not,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “bedroom, please. We’re not ruining the table.”

“As you wish,” he smiled before kissing you until you were thoroughly breathless and dizzied.

“Happy birthday, Joel.”

[ivystoryweaver]

hi ivy!!!!

congratulations on the anniversary, I think you’re doing amazing and I’m really impressed with the frequency at which you put out stories

Could you please write me some thing super soft with Santi? That’s my baby. Maybe something smut but loving and communication, ys know, LaL style

love you

When You Come Back Home

"But on really good days, you get a picture of him."

Awww hey bb, you are so sweet. ILY! The muse has been kind lately - you know it ebbs and flows, so it's always nice to catch up. (Until I went on vacation, that is)

Yes ofc Santi is your baby, I'm so honored you trust me to write something soft, especially mentioning the amazing LAL! Leather and Lace is sooo good and you're a genius at world building.

Word Count: 3.9k

Santiago x f!reader, fluff, married life, flirting, dirty talk, lingerie, oral, fingering, p in v, language, absolute smitten husband!Santiago

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Gazing listlessly out the window, you idly pass your off day, waiting for word from your husband. Despite the ease electronic communication provides you, Santiago writes you letters, and sends polaroids. It may be the thing you love about him most - he wants you to have something tangible when he's not there to hold you, kiss you and gaze into your eyes.

Your collection of polaroids covers the side of the fridge, top to bottom, the bulletin board behind your bedroom door, you have a few on the bathroom mirror and even a couple in your car. Most of them tell the story, through scenery, of each and every place he's visited or worked.

But on really good days, you get a picture of him.

Santiago practically vibrates with energy - always on the move, ready for a mission or an adventure. When he's home, he inevitably takes on a project, hosts an entertaining barbecue, whisks you away to a special trip, and his stamina is no less vigorous when he gets you alone, between the sheets.

The mail truck rumbles around the corner onto your street, nudging you out of idleness. You rise to your feet, ready to collect the mail the moment the truck pulls up to the next driveway. Your bare feet hit the sizzling Florida pavement, hurrying you toward your destination.

But there is no letter, not today.

Slightly deflated, you rush back inside, grateful as the air conditioning kisses your skin. That's the thing about snail mail: it's unpredictable, which makes receiving it such a delight. Oh well, at least you'll be able to see your husband's face later when he calls.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you pour yourself some fruit infused water, rolling your eyes at how quickly the Florida heat can parch your throat.

Then you hear the front door open. The voice of your husband almost makes you drop your glass.

"Oh my god, Santi!" You screech, rounding the corner and flying into his waiting arms.

"Heyyy, mi cielo," he breathes against your ear as he holds you close. He's not a tall man, but he's a solid wall of strength - his forearms flexing along the curve of your back as he molds your body to his.

"How...are you here?" You gasp, sinking your fingers into the thickness of his salt and pepper curls.

"Home early," he states the obvious. "Missed you too much." His mouth chases after yours, tasting your soft lips one at a time. The heat of his breath melts you in his embrace, and it occurs to you that this experience far surpasses a new Polaroid.

"Let me take you out tonight, bebécita," he hums against your mouth between kisses. "Got you something pretty to wear."

You assume he's brought you a dress, but it's something much more...shiny.

"Don't ask me where it came from. I don't think you want to know," he cryptically warns, earthy eyes sparkling with a playful glimmer.

"Please tell me there were no drug lords involved," you half joke as he fastens a gorgeous diamond bracelet around your wrist. "Florida is way too close to all that shit."

"No drug lords. I promise." He grins, kissing your mouth for good measure.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Music pulses, colorful lights flash - the tang of alcohol fills the air. Santiago's hips move expertly to a familiar tune, the Spanish lyrics energizing the delicious Bachata he leads. You gladly follow, feeling success as a dancer, simply by matching his movement and energy.

Spinning you a few extra times to show you off, Santi grins as you laugh delightedly. You tend to recharge with alone time, but your husband needs this - friends, fun and some sort of action. You gladly give it to him, knowing that when he gets you home, you will have him all to yourself for days on end, with no one to disrupt your bubble.

“Mi cielo," he cinches you tightly against him, the shift of his hips pulsing against yours, urging you to drag him by the collar to a dark corner. "Ready to go?"

You know he's not ready. But he checks in with you, just to be sure, to give you an out.

"Already tired after one dance, Garcia?" You tease, syncing the movement of his body with your own, the motion honestly a tad scandalous for the dance floor. "Thought you wanted to show me off tonight. Me and this mysterious bracelet."

He smiles brightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight as he dips you and finishes the song with a flourish - trumpets wailing as the bongos boom out a fantastic finale.

"They're good," you huff out breathlessly, motioning toward the live band on the stage.

He nods, leading you by the hand toward the bar as the band eases into the next dance - a merengue.

The night goes on this way, with a generous amount of alcohol, a group of your best friends and a few sensational slow dances that have you desperate to get him alone.

During one particularly smooth Rumba, he kisses a trail down the side of your neck, the tequila lowering his inhibitions to a scandalous level. "Ready now, Señora Garcia?" He smoothly husks, working his lips over yours and stealing your breath as his hips once again swirl into yours.

"Si, mi amor," you gush back to him, noticing the sparkle of your bracelet as he leads you outside by the hand.

A ride share carries you safely home, but Santi's long, dextrous fingers have already temptingly edged under the hem of your shirt, anxious for the caress you both crave.

"Behave yourself," you teasingly admonish, swatting his hand away even as he nibbles on your neck, his breath ghosting your skin.

"Can't wait to get you out of this and underneath me," he rumbles on your ear, linking his fingers with yours, simply because there is nowhere else he can put them without earning another stare from the rearview mirror.

"Hey," you whisper, returning the favor by breathing hotly, making him shiver with want. "What makes you think I won't be on top?"

He growls, gripping your chin with his free hand and opening his mouth over yours - the heat of his tongue setting you on fire. You forget, for a few heavenly moments, that you're in the car with a complete stranger.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Stumbling through the front door like teenagers, your husband can't help but manhandle you, shutting the door dramatically before pushing you up against it - his strong hands gripping your hips as he touches his forehead to yours.

"How uncomfortable did we make that driver?" He jokes between lingering kisses to your lips.

"Don't worry, I gave him a good tip," You remind him, locking your wrists behind his neck and arching against him temptingly.

You carry on this way, endlessly kissing, caressing, bodies craving contact at every point. Santi hooks your thigh around his own, thrusting slowly up into the center of you as his free hand slips back underneath your top. “You really wanna do this here, bebécita?” He whispers between kisses.

Santiago is in amazing shape and you’re stupidly in love with him, but gone are the years of sneaking around for wild quickies against doors. Still…it’s tempting.

“Maybe not,” you smile against his lips. “Got something new for you too. Why don’t I go change?”

“Mmm, okay.” Although he agrees, he squeezes your hips, shifting up to rock against you with renewed vigor, lips trailing across your jaw to suck a mark into the flesh of your neck.

“God, baby…” you pant, meeting his thrusts eagerly, dizzy and euphoric from the alcohol and the dancing…and him.

“Missed you so much.” He clambers through the fog of his own lust and pulls you into a protective embrace, helping you stand up straight, so he can take you upstairs, as you requested.

But the world has spun off its axis tonight, and as he takes you by the hand once more, the way he loves to do, you find yourself stumbling down with him on the staircase, giggling like you did when you were younger - when he took your virginity and made you fall in love with him.

“Shit, sorry,” he half apologizes, his legs falling open as you drape your body over his, your thighs spreading wide across his lap.

“Told you I’d be on top,” you cheekily toy with him, shifting your aching core to rub over his obvious erection.

“Fuck…honey,” he growls, done with all the teasing and flirting. He pushes hungry hands under your shirt, feeling you up as his lips chase yours. As his tongue rolls over yours, he moans into your mouth when he feels the softness of your bra. You wore his favorite - the black lace with touches of emerald green satin. He bought it for you overseas - the biggest surprise of all being that he got the right size in a beautiful bra that’s actually comfortable and supportive.

But that’s how Santiago is: observant, beautiful, comfortable, supportive and sexy. Weird to have a bra remind you of your stunning husband but well…

He all but tears the shirt over your head, restraining himself only enough to keep from pulling or otherwise messing up your hair. Santiago is an expert at you. He knows when to push or pull or lead or follow - when to be rough or test your boundaries, and when to protect you and love you softly.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he rumbles, hands reverently steadying you on top of him by your soft shoulders, before he drags them down to cup your lace covered tits. You arch into his expert touch, slowly rocking in his lap, putting on a little show for him.

You’ve changed over the years. Your body naturally isn’t what it was the first time he took you. But Santiago never ceases to make you feel prized and adored and so beautiful. He makes you believe it somehow, even when you silently criticize yourself in the mirror.

So you let him adore you - you’re safe with him as he touches you all over, worshipping your curves and soft, plush places.

“I love you so much,” you breathe out as he nudges at your stomach, attempting to get you to lift up so he can take off your pants.

“Love you too, baby. But I’ll love you more when you’re naked.”

You snort at his cheesy forwardness, realizing he’s a bit more horny while you’re swooning with romance. You are on the stairs, after all. But he’s determined, rolling you beside him and yanking at fabric until you’re bare from the waist down. So much for the matching cheeky panties.

You forget to care that he didn’t mention them when he spreads your legs wide and drags his knuckles through your wet heat. The overexposure you feel dwindles away as he leans over to brush open-mouthed kisses against your stomach. Steadying yourself, you push your fingers through his curls. “This isn’t fair, babe. You’re still completely dressed.”

Peering up at you through endlessly long lashes, he smirks. “I don’t need to be naked to eat you out.”

“Santi,” you gasp in mock surprise, as he quickly and tauntingly kisses a trail down to your core. “What has gotten into you?”

He grins. "That a trick question? Oh shit - "

You watch him wince in pain. "Knees?"

He groans, nodding. "Knees."

"Come here, Papacito," you tease, climbing to your feet and offering him your hand.

The sight of you standing above him on the stairs, naked except for your bra and a sparkling bracelet quickly convinces him to follow.

You rush ahead of him to your bedroom, feeling a dizzy, freeing rush after a night of dancing and foreplay, but so ready to get this man of yours on your familiar, comfortable bed. After ordering him to lie down, you slip into the silky little number you ordered specifically for his next homecoming.

Slithering on top of him, you yank at his belt buckle.

“Just tell me what to do, mi reina. Make it easy for me.” He grins in self-satisfaction.

"I just want you out of these clothes," you fire back, wordlessly working him free enough for you to take hold of.

He groans out something incoherent as you tease the hot, heavy length of him, gliding your hand up and down his shaft.

"Just like that," he pants, his hips involuntarily bucking as you lean over and swirl your tongue all over his tip. "Fuck, I missed that." Slipping his hand around the nape of your neck, he has to restrain himself from thrusting up into your hot, wet mouth.

Santiago knows there's not another woman like you, anywhere. He's traveled over half the world, a couple dozen times over, so he knows. It's not just that you're beautiful. You radiate beauty. The trust you place in him and the freedom you give him to be who he is, to pursue his career, is as much a siren call, luring him back to you every chance he can manage, as it is a steady anchor for him.

As you take him deeper, his breath quickens at the thought of coming down your throat, but somehow, he's distracted by a need to reclaim you. To take possession of your body the way he dreamed of doing on the dance floor. As your lithe body swayed, matching his rhythm, following his lead, he noticed the men devouring you with their eyes.

He would grip your hips tighter, grind against you possessively and trail his lips down the side of your neck, marking you as his own.

But before he can claw his way out of the haze you're literally sucking him into, you pull off his cock with a pop, lips wet and pouting.

"Take these off," you whine, yanking at the waistband of his pants, attempting to pull them down over his thick thighs. "Can't reach all of you."

He surprises you by climbing off the bed to undress completely. With only moonlight spilling in through the bedroom window, he wears the vigor of his last mission on his skin, darker from days in the sun. His toned muscles flex with every motion, fresh bruises and old scars telling the story of his adventurous life.

You're way past giving him a lecture every time he returns home with a new piece of the story etched onto his skin.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, you stretch out your fingers, tracing a healing bruise just under his ribs, situated beside a small, angry cut. Your eyes lock with his and he nods, letting you know that whoever inflicted this pain is taken care of. You press your lips there, learning the new marks of him, claiming this new part of him as your own.

"Show me where else," you plead, but he's shaking his head, easing down to hover you, his body flexing deliciously as he rolls you underneath him and covers your lips with his.

You moan into his mouth as his hands roam all over the shape of you, just like while you were out dancing, but wilder, more possessive. His tongue licks deeper as he grips your hips, positioning you underneath the hungry thrust of his hips against your thigh.

Your fingers slip around his neck, tenderly fingering the scar from his surgery before sliding into his hair, yanking hard enough to pull his mouth free of yours and earn you an appreciative moan. You yank again, harder, the leverage enabling you to pull your silk-covered breasts flush against the bare heat of his chest.

Slinging one leg around the back of his thigh, you meet his steady grinding eagerly, already panting as he smirks against your cheek.

"You've been wet all night, haven't you?" He teases, tugging your earlobe into his mouth. "All those men watching you dancing, but no one's touching my wife but me."

He sucks a mark into your neck, pushing one hand up your inner thigh, kneading the soft flesh, but stopping short of your aching, wet core.

"Wanted to touch you right here, make you come, soak those pretty panties," he taunts, tracing one finger over your puffy folds.

"Why didn't you?" A pout escapes your lips as you desperately attempt to shift your hips, to chase his fingers for any sort of friction. "Wanna come for you, Santi, show them I'm yours."

At that confession, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them forward into your spongy softness, beckoning your hips forward.

"Want me to finger you next time we dance, baby?" He huffs against your lips, rubbing the heavy length of his cock against the slick on your thigh, already dripping from your sopping core. "Wear a pretty dress for me and let me feel you up? You would be louder than the music when you come. Dirty girl.”

Your back arches off the bed at the sound of his voice goading you - something he does often during long distance sex. Your mind briefly drifts to the half dozen times he’s nearly taken you over the edge with his voice alone, uttering filthy things, finally allowing you to touch yourself for some gratification, or at least relief.

Before you can beg him to keep talking, he swipes his thumb over your clit, working a third finger into your hole, expertly coaxing your first orgasm out of you. Your thighs shake, chest heaving as you tremble and shudder around his fingers. “Oh fuck, Santi…so good,” you pant. “Missed you so much.”

Chasing after his lips with your own, you press a tempting kiss to his mouth, licking it open even as he strokes you past overstimulation, smiling into your kiss as you squirm to get away from him.

“Too much?” he grins, nibbling your bottom lip, swirling his middle finger like a cyclone inside you, just because he can.

“No. Want your cock.” You bite his lip and he hisses as you wrap smooth fingers around his hard, leaking length, pushing your thumb roughly over his tip.

Shimmying your hips closer to what you really want, you beckon him forward, rubbing his tip between your folds. But he resists you.

“Say that again,” he murmurs, biting gently on your jaw, then your throat, his hot breath making you tremble with desire.

Twisting your wrist, you work your hand up and down the length of his aching dick. “Want your cock. Want you inside me so bad.” Your tongue swirls inside his ear and he stutters out a gasp, shifting his hips to push his fat tip into your dripping hole.

He moans out your name, thrusting all the way inside. Your warm, wet walls hug him perfectly and he settles in that spot he knows you love. The stimulation and warmth of feeling him flush against you has you desperately rutting against him.

His hand grips your luscious thigh, pushing it up, folding you and opening you wider for him. Shifting his hips, he pumps into you faster, this angle hitting you so deep your head drops to the pillow as you whimper, overcome with how delicious it is to feel your husband, home, in your arms, in your bed, deep inside you where he belongs.

Grunts of pleasure pass his lips as he makes you his again, after weeks of nothing but a blurry, in-and-out video or sometimes, a crackly voice over a satellite phone.

“Don’t know how I ever leave this pussy,” he huffs, his body rolling over yours, spearing you open, molding you to the shape of his cock after so long without it. “That’s it. I fucking quit. I’m gonna spend the next month inside you.”

You know he’s not serious. Not yet anyway, but you love to hear it when he reclaims you like this. How he’ll forget everything else just to spend all his time coming inside you. And oh, does he make up for being gone when he’s home.

"This feels good," he sighs, hands tracing the shape of you through the silky lingerie you're wearing for him. His fingers drag and push the soft fabric until he's taking it over your head, licking his lips at the way your tits bounce as he fucks into you. "You feel better, though."

"Come here," you plead, luring him down all the way on top of you, kissing him wildly as his chest settles against yours. A light sheen of sweat forms between you, slick and hot as you sling your legs all the way around his waist, pulling him harder and deeper, if it's possible.

The thrusting of his tongue inside your mouth almost seems to match his hips and you grip onto him for dear life, holding him so tightly, your bodies rutting faster and harder in one deliciously fluid movement, so in sync you move as one.

The friction against your clit has you on the edge. You're unable to meet his hungry kiss with anything more than a long, breathy moan.

"Come on, baby, I'm so fuckin' close," he rumbles, his rhythm faltering as your walls hug his shaft, fluttering and pulsing, soaking his cock before you shriek in pleasure. Gripping him tighter, so wet and so tight he comes with you, filling you with his warmth, dragging his lips across your shoulder to bury his strangled cry in your neck.

You cradle his head, kissing his cheek, his ear, carding your fingers through his damp curls and whispering how much you adore him as he comes back to himself, finally going still, safe in your arms.

You rest there together, mouths fusing for a languid kiss, bodies joined and sated, sharing one another's breath. Santi holds you so close and you know he needs this. Needs to stay inside you, connected to you, wrapped up together, the heat of your bodies, your sweat and the slick between your legs raw and real and grounding for a man who has seen too much and is gone too often.

This is when Santiago is his most vulnerable, and inevitably makes his way to the question voicing his deepest fear. "Don't let me go."

"Never," you swear, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter and squeezing him fiercely. "I'll always be right here, you know that."

He feels the slight scrape of your new diamond bracelet against the nape of his neck, toying with the scar from his operation. He knows diamonds won't make up for the fact that he's not here, and he doesn't want to pretend that it means something deep - such as he's with you whenever you wear it.

You're both years past that bullshit now. It's a beautiful piece and it belongs on his beautiful wife - it's that simple.

He asks you every time he comes home, if it's too much. Makes you promise you'll tell him if doubt has crept into the back of your mind. He does it now, and you know what he means.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He kisses you again, his body finally relaxing completely.

"Besides," you tease, "You're going to be inside me for the next month, remember? So neither of us are going anywhere."

He was teasing about that. You know it and he knows it. But now that you say it out loud...

"Yes ma'am." The next mission can wait.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Ivy's 1st Ficiversary Celebration

Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist (Santiago, Leto, Nathan, Llewyn, Orestes)

Main Masterlist

updates blog @ivystoryupdates

[roo-bastmoon]

Things needing immediate attention in MUSE era...

We have GOT to diversify streaming platforms. Last year as a present to myself I went ahead and purchased a premium family bundle (for 6 email accounts each) for YouTube/YT Music, Pandora, and Spotify--plus a premium Apple account hooked up to Stationhead, and I currently have free trials going for Tidal, Qobuz, and Amazon. Premium streams are essential for charts.

Every day I make clicking through playlists on all these platforms as part of my routine: before breakfast, at lunch, and before bed at a minimum.

We also need to be very diligent about voting. Once I sat myself down and took the time to download the apps, set up accounts, and watch a few YouTube tutorials about how to do it, it's actually pretty easy and usually only a once or twice a day sort of thing.

Then there are the polls that have unlimited voting. That is a numbers game, a war of attrition. So while I wait for my lunch to heat up? I vote. Stuck in a waiting room for an appointment? Voting. On the phone with someone who is just gabbing away? Uh huh, mm mhm, but clickity click, I'm voting the whole time. I aim to hit that Vote button about 100 times a day. All told, takes less than 5 minutes.

Also our boy just posted on Insta after 126 days of silence. Please interact with the story and show him the love!

All in all, I think we really need to get into a routine where we fire on all cylinders. Streaming parties, funding parties, outreach & hype parties... We are hyper-focused on Spotify and YouTube videos and that stuff is absolutely important, but it leaves too many gains on the table. Let's use every tool in the box, okay?

Finally, I want to wrap up this post with gratitude:

I know I encourage you guys a lot to push yourselves and work hard, and I don't mean to come off as your taskmaster, but rather as a cheerleader.

We took a mostly Korean song with an insultingly low level of promo, plus no ads, no playlisting, no radio, only one version, with less than a full week to chart, which dropped during a major US holiday -- and it's very likely it will land on the Hot 100. That is...outstanding.

If nothing else, Jimin will see that he's loved and appreciated and we have his back. Whatever the assholes online try to say about vpn and bots and other bullshit, it was your blood, sweat, and tears that gave Jimin his well-deserved seat at an otherwise unwelcoming industry table. I'm so grateful to you and to this community for that.

We all know that Jimin is organic, authentic, and uniquely talented, and therefore isn't even in competition with anyone else. But we can still get him some good wins. What we do for him, we do out of love--not obligation or bragging rights. His music and his artistry are a source of JOY!

WE ARE OFFICIALLY IN OUR MUSE ERA!

We have two weeks to study up and get premium accounts and gather all our energy to support a whole album. How lucky we are to be so well fed and loved.

FIGHTING!

[milky-aeons]

— BY A COMMANDER’S SIDE

౨ৎ  . . . even though you may not always be by his side, there are multiple ways you and ARMIN ARLERT express your love for each other.

warnings: sexual content, memories of war, ptsd, marriage, pregnancy, mdni, w.c 845

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ tenerife sea — ed sheeran ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was, at first, not very forthcoming about his feelings towards you. Who allowed them to balloon into something monstrous, something that wouldn't let his eyes leave you no matter where you came or when you went.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who mustered up the courage to ask you on a date after weeks of deliberation. That mind of his really was a double-edged sword, having the ability to lead squadrons to victory but crumbled when he looked into your eyes and became so adorably tongue-tied.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, on the day of your wedding, wore a crown of flowers in her hair and jewellery made from emerald sea-glass. Who kept the jewellery on that night you spent together, the smooth stone sliding over your bouncing breasts as you rode him into ecstasy.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who held him tight on those nights he couldn't sleep. When the haunting echoes of war visited him instead of dreams. Who cradled him against your chest and carded through his golden hair, humming to him a song from your childhood, until his tense shoulder muscles smoothened down and he took more even, slumbering breaths.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was always phenomenal when it came to choosing gifts. Whether they be for special occasions like your one year anniversary — when he surprised you with that delicate little music box specially crafted to play that tune, the one you always sung to him — or little delicates he brought home after a long day's work. Chocolates, flowers, books from the Capital where he conducted the duties of Commander.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would know immediately when your husband has had a taxing day. When he'd come through the door of the little town house you shared — his eyes shadowed, his hair mused from where he ruffled at it. You would go to him and place longer, sweeter kisses against his lips. You would instruct him to sit in the kitchen so you could brew him some tea, so you could take your fingers to his temples and draw soothing little circles.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who brought you to the beach on late summer's nights. Who would be mysterious and playful with his little secret, ushering you out of the house when you least expected it. Of course, he had the charade planned right down to the finer details; the standing wax candles in the sand, the blanket, the bottle of fine Mitras wine and two polished glasses waiting to be drunk.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was reserved with his desires, and yet eager to please you at the same time. Who would murmur hot and heady into your ear; where do you need it, love? Does it feel good when I do this? Tell me what you need, let me please you. Who had years of power in his honed abdomen muscles and thighs as he would use them to thrust into you without conviction. Who would relish in the way you called out his name as your walls clenched around him, undoing him by the very seams.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who gave him a small clothed package unannounced one day. Watchful as he undid the layers with those gorgeous blue eyes wide and curious. Who did not take long to understand what the gift meant — a little wooden horse and a hat that would be much too small for him. He had stood, unbelieving, his eyes shining with tears, and picked you up in a hug that stole the air from your lungs and spun you round, round, round.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who lay beside your curved belly swollen with life and read to them. About fields of fire, endless seas of ice, vast rivers of colour in the night sky. Who would place kisses to your unborn child, who would place kisses on the back of your hand and tell you how much he loved you.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who cooked with you on the days he had been spared from his military duties. Who would lift your beautiful child up into the air and make them giggle as you stirred the pot. Who would come up behind you and encircle you in his strong arms, placing a quick, chaste kiss on your temple.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was cunning with him, adoring the blush that still coloured your husbands cheeks when you did something daring. You would seek him out on late nights in the study as he poured over reports by lamplight. Quietly, you would slip your nightdress down from your shoulders and let it fall to a pool at your feet. It always made your pulse flutter, the way he looked at you, like a man strangled. Like a man so madly and irrevocably in love.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who, before he left every morning and before he closed his eyes at night, would mutter the same exact words;

"I love you, my moon and stars."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would murmur right back;

"And I love you too, my entire night sky."

[frudoo]

Goddess — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Retired Johnny focuses on his art. His favorite muse? You, of course.

Warnings: Slightly smutty, very suggestive. Plus size reader (female). Body image issues mentioned. Shitty Scottish (PLEASE give me feedback, I wanna get better!!)

I’m not gonna lie y’all—I’m not too proud of this one. The idea was perfect in my head but my fingers did not want to write it </3

MDNI

A shudder escapes your pouty lips with every drag of his vaseline-coated fingers across your soft body. Johnny’s excuse was to tell you that your skin needs to be prepped before he could do anything, but that was ten minutes ago and he’s been massaging your breasts for five, now. Finally, he pulls his hands away after giving your nipples one more flick for good measure. He chuckles at the breathy whine you let out.

     “So eager, bon’. Cannae even handle a bit o’ prep?” The cocky bastard teases, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose before turning around and grabbing the plaster bandages off of his desk. 

     This all started when you made the mistake of telling your beloved husband that you were feeling down. The demons had gotten louder the longer you stared in the mirror, and Johnny had walked in right as the first tear fell down your round cheek. He let you cry in his arms, kissing your forehead and murmuring into your ear about all of his favorite parts of you. Turned your tears of self-loathing into glistening proof of ecstasy with his face buried between your thighs, leaving no room for doubt about just how much he adores you. He told you his idea while you were curled into his side, slick with sweat and pleasantly fucked-out. 

     That’s how you ended up here: sitting on a stool in his workspace, naked and compliant (just how he likes you, he joked). The body cast, of course, was his idea of making you feel better about yourself—at least, that’s what he told you. The truth was that he’s utterly obsessed with you. The ring on your finger and the home you shared wasn’t enough for him. He wanted—needed—to be surrounded by you in any way, shape or form. No matter how many paintings or sketches or statues of you that littered the house, he wasn’t satisfied, always convincing you to sit all pretty for him so he could recreate the most beautiful work of art he could think of. 

     Johnny starts on your breasts, coming as no surprise to you. The plaster strips are cold and tacky against your supple skin, and it makes you grimace. He takes his time molding the pliable medium to fit you perfectly, nimble fingers working restlessly to exact the curve of your perky nipples. He hums while he works, biting his tongue between his teeth in pure concentration, dismissing the whines and annoyed sighs you let out. 

     “Haud yer wheesht, bon’! Willnae take long. Lass loves the attention,” he scolds, but the shit-eating grin on his face makes you huff louder. 

     “I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you purse your lips, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your torso—his new favorite canvas.

     “Ah jus’ want tae show ye tha’ yer body shuid be in a museum. Ah ken ye’re bonnie, but ye dinnae, so ah’m gunna prove t’ye wha’ a goddess ye’re.” Johnny explains softly, those sparkling blue, oceanic eyes darting up to meet your impatient gaze. 

     Can’t really argue with that, can you? With a final sigh, you reluctantly relax your body, allowing the artist to more accurately place the plaster strips onto your lubricated skin. He rewards your cooperation with a tender kiss to your lips and a warm smile. His calloused hands smooth out the bandages over the soft rolls on your waist and tummy, making sure every single detail of your perfect form is immortalized. If you yourself can’t live forever, he’s determined to make sure people are able to admire you for centuries to come. 

     Once Johnny’s satisfied with the sticky mess he made on your plush body (for once, it’s actually a PG-rated mess), he steps back to admire his handiwork with a pleased hum. His eyes scan over your body in appreciation before he turns and washes his hands, drying them off with a rag. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, he tells you corny jokes to keep you distracted from the discomfort of drying plaster on your skin. Once it’s dry, he tells you to take a deep breath so he can pry off the cast—you’re secretly thankful that he spent so much time putting vaseline all over you because pulling it off was already a task. 

     With a gross pull of your skin and then a soft squelching noise, the artwork is off of your body. Johnny smiles giddily, happy with how perfect and detailed it turned out. He sets it carefully on his desk to let it dry more on the inside. Much to your relief, he allows you off of the stool and guides you into the washroom where he runs you a nice bath. He insists on cleaning your body, gushing about how beautiful and perfect you are for him—and then he fingers you silly as a reward, making sure the bathwater is deliciously murky before draining it. He dries you off with tender hands, pressing doting kisses all over your face just because he can. And once he’s got you in bed, all sleepy and warm, he climbs in beside you and whispers into your ear:

“Gunna make a cast o’ yer gorgeous cunt next, aye?”

[cambion-companion]

I cannot concentrate on my work (ironically as a TA writing up my phd thesis) because I read your intelligence 8 tav x raphael fics and now I am shaken to the core and all I wanna do is daydream about being a clueless little slut in the house of hoep

please saer can I have some more

hahaha I'm so glad that brain worm took root, intelligence 8 Tav is delightful. I also wanted to incorporate this lovely ask as well and express my gratitude for the support you all have given me this month. All is well! Enjoy a drabble with a Tav/reader utterly oblivious to the true nature of a cambion...to them he's just a tiefling with wings! how cool!

Raphael + reader (gn) drabble

(I'll probably write another that's more romantic/cute but this was too funny to pass up)

"You have an uncanny talent at getting into the most outlandish situations." Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, inhaling a deep breath.

You looked around at the decadent room he'd rented for himself, steam rising from two baths and flower petals ornamenting the lush red carpet. "I wouldn't think a devil-guy would be the sort to have tulips thrown about."

"Roses." Raphael corrected, his hand clasping firm about your upper arm just in time to save you from slipping on the wet tile and braining yourself. "I would wager a hefty sum of gold your mind does not entertain too many thoughts at one time."

"Thank you." You murmured, touched. You allowed him to escort you to safety upon a chair and watched with vague interest at how his lips twisted in bemusement. "I should thank you for saving my bacon back there. Wasn't expecting to survive that. But Shart always gets Withers to bring me back when we run out of those glowy scroll things."

"I do believe I sense a migraine coming on." Raphael squeezed his eyes shut briefly before crossing to pour you both a glass of dark brown alcohol.

You took the fancy crystal glass and downed the drink with gusto, only realizing your mistake when the scorching whiskey had passed into your gullet, and you burst into a coughing fit. Raphael sighed and gave you a solid couple thumps on your back as you struggled to breath. "There now. Death by imbibing spirits too eagerly is no way to enter the afterlife. Not until you've served your purpose, at least."

"What?"

"I'm concerned for your well-being, dear."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. "That's really nice of you, Raph." He winced at the nickname but just barely managed to keep a pleasant neutral expression. "I don't know why everyone else threw such a fit about you, you're not a bad dude."

"I'm flattered." Raphael almost felt a sense of annoyance at how easy this was. He enjoyed a challenge, and this mortal was certainly not bringing it. He drained his glass fluidly and returned it with a clink to the table. "Now, your person is more or less stable for the time being."

You looked around, checking behind you. "What person?"

"Your body has been plucked from the peril you so naively flounced into." Raphael clarified, a slight edge to his words now, he was running low on patience. "Be a good mouse and run along, fetch me the crown and we can part ways amicably."

"I never imagined mice to be much good at fetching." You mused, rising to your feet as Raphael practically pushed you from his room. "That seems more a dog's forte. Oh, we have a most wonderful dog back at camp-"

The door closed in your face, so close it almost clipped your nose. You stared at the dark wood for a moment, then smiled and shrugged. You spoke a little louder so he would be able to hear through it. "His name is Scratch! What was I saying? Oh yes, dogs fetch crowns and balls better than mice! Maybe keep that in mind when giving people animal nicknames!"

No answer.

He must have gone to take a nap. You were sure cambions probably did that often since they seemed to act much like cats in every other way.

Smiling to yourself you departed, convinced that you and Raphael were now bosom friends.

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

the fruits, rotten 一 malleus draconia 一 twisted wonderland | 18+

Summary. Malleus should've been more careful in handling the details of his relationship to his grandmother. A shame, really. Mayne he would have to go around hiding his love for you like a coward then, but that's how life pans out, a series of mistakes we wish we could have redone.

Warnings. 18+ Content Ahead. Mentions of Smut.

Edit Status. Not proofread, we die with beta

Word Count. 1.9k

Song. the fruits, paris paloma

A.N. I'm back here's some shit lol. Ended up joining this weird cult but it's all good now :D be careful online kiddos

My love, are you the devil?

I would worship you instead of him

The sound of a brush scrubbing softly against keratin filled the Ramshackle Prefects room, The low hum of the fae prince cuts through gently, his large body hunched over on your bed, hands holding his head while you kneel before him. A small laugh leaves you as you watch his eyes slowly close, his breathing evening out, as he continues to lean forward until his forehead makes contact with your chest, and his hands slip from their place against his jaw.

You do your best to finish his horns, cleaning each ridge with precision and a gentleness to not wake up the sleeping prince, his hair still dripped with water from the shower you shared, which greatly helped in keeping all the grime soft enough to be removed easily enough. 

A deep breath makes you stop for a second, your eyes on Malleus, watching as he slightly readjusts before settling into your chest once again. You can’t help but worry for his neck and back, even while your thighs ache and your knees throb in pain. No matter how soft the bedding Crewel had given you was, staying in this position for nearly half an hour was beginning to take its toll on your body.

Finishing as quickly as you could, you readjust the prince to relax in your bed, pushing him to his full length slowly as you held his head and neck, before removing yourself from his side as he shifted once again to find comfort in the plush covers and pillows.

For I'm too busy committing sins

I have no time for confession

God, you think to yourself, he really was such a beautiful creature.

“And where are you off to, child?” An amused voice finds your ears, and you can't help but jump as a chill runs down your spine, the chilly air not helping you in settling quicker. You grip the band of the duffle as your teeth grind against each other, thinking quickly, you sigh and turn around, deciding to stall him before coming up with something… believable.

“And where are you off to so late? Doesn’t Bat-Daddy have you under house arrest?” You muse, raising your eyebrows and you watch him- he's still stand-offish, tense, but the mention of his guardian makes him relax, before a realization comes to him.

“How do you know that?” He grits, teeth on display as his most prominent feature, his fangs, have you faltering for a second. Pointed ears move downwards in an unspoken sadness.

“Sebek isn’t all that quiet when you’re upset, especially when you’ve been reprimanded by both Lilia and your grandmother, Mal.” You start shifting your weight between each leg, anxiety eating at your core.

He shouldn’t be here. He isn’t allowed to be here.

The knowledge of that leaves your heart breaking, but you didn’t want to leave Malleus in trouble over some silly human who doesn't belong to this world, especially when the topic of love and relationships with him comes to mind.

He isn’t allowed to be with me.

“I see. I don't think I have the heart to reprimand him, though.” He chuckles, attempting to lighten the mood, hopeful eyes and his ears twitching up and down, before remaining in a downwards position as your sad smile reaches his eyes.

“Go. I don't want you in trouble for being here.” You point with your nose to his direction.

Go back, please.

“Can I at least know where you’re off to? I’d like you to be safe.” He’s nearly begging.

My love, you're something special

“Crewel. Late night job with one of his oldies. Nothing too bad.” You smiled, catching your eye, and he seemed satisfied with that answer.

You never seem to leave the fae prince's mind.

Your smile, your laugh, the way you get excited when you’ve learned new things about this world, the way you yawn, how your shirt seems to always expose just the right amount of skin when you stretch-

You don’t like how easily you can lie to him now.

I've never met someone like you

He cannot get enough of you. He’s a man possessed, and not even a real man to begin with in technicality, both in his race and his age amongst the fae. He wants to hold you, to mold into you, have you in his unwavering grasp and never let go. 

His skin yearns for even the slightest of your touches, his lips mourn for yours once again, his eyes wish to the souls beyond to fall deep into yours- his heart can only survive with you by his side, happy, and healthy.

But he cannot give you that.

How could you make him feel this way? To love and lose, to yearn and obtain, to lust and hate. He wants to be angry, to hold his wrath to a standard of equivocated fear and respect like it usually is, but he can’t, not with you.

You'd make me fall from heaven

If only he was human. If only you were a fae. If he was a commoner or if you were of noble blood. If he was your lover and you were his.

How could a magicless human make him feel so much?

His whispers echo in a room filled with desperate pleas and calls demanding to be answered, his back hunched and cracking as scales start to make their way from under his skin, his body moving forward even more to accommodate the tail that manifests itself, Lighting crashes during the storm that rages on, and Malleus is grateful for the weather of the past week, able to hide his tantrum within the will of nature.

The room fills with smoke as he breathes heavily, unable to stop the small flames that leave him, and he gets his hips into an empty space- leaving him whimpering and choking up, before a low and deep growl follows.

But I know just what I do

Long black nails rake across the faes face as he grips at himself hard enough to draw blood, the wounds healing as quickly as they arrive, his breathing is shaky, uneven, as a low laughter leaves his throat. His eyes blow a brilliant green, nearly lighting up the room with their light alone, his horns crack and split open at the ridges slightly, exposing the game green that lights the prince's eyes. 

Your name leaves his voice in desperate whispers, clawed hands dipped in ink rush down his blistering flesh, lust consuming him as he reaches down to grasp at himself, imagining your own hands being the ones to do so.

"Angel, " he calls me 

It wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

Does he know that I'm falling

His lips clumsily drag themselves from your sternum, up your neck, and take your own greedily- nearly biting your lips in the process. It's sloppy, needy, and his grip is unrelenting as he tightens himself around your hips. He starts to huff with small amounts of smoke leaving his open mouth, tail and scales manifesting, his horns and eyes carrying their warm glow.

“Malleus- calm down.” You manage to get out before he's on top of you again, whining and growling, pulling at your pajamas while he nearly tears off his own clothing as well. The wind whips against the window, a sharp crack scaring you into a jump, and the small amount of bare skin that meets his own leaves him weak and fumbling.

From a precipice that I tripped off long ago?

“Malleus.” Your voice is strained, a harsh whisper, as your head is leaning back against the plush of the window seat as you desperately grip at the cushions and stone wall. He’s hunched over again, but this time, he's able to associate himself with you.

“N-no. Please just- just-” He’s stuttering and cutting himself off, unable to properly think now that he has you in his grasp. Nearly three months now. Three months of you running off and leaving him alone. Abandoning him. All because he let his affections for you slip. All because his grandmother's court didn’t approve of your relationship.

For three months.

"You're so pure, " he says

He was starving.

Does he know, I'm forsaken?

The voice of your guardian and adoptive father seems to fade into the distance as you stare out of the window, looking down upon the campus, thoughts running wild as a new soreness leaves your body aching and throbbing.

Malleus was starved. 

You think to yourself, if you could keep ignoring him for this long, and go back to avoiding him at all costs, and your heart breaks at the thought. You loved him, and your relationship was small, budding, but still strong and fulfilling.

Until the bud was found and cut by his grandmother and her court, leaving you heartbroken, and you in fear for your life as you were left with a simple warning.

But now he's had his fill of you.

Stay. Away.

And you did, ignoring him best you can, occupying your time with others, dodging him at every turn. That was, until he came to you in the middle of the night, opening the window of your little reading nook in Ramshackle, and begging you to have him.

“Puppy! Are you paying attention? This is important to how we're going to handle this little… situation,” Crewel doesn’t know about last night.

No one does.

The original sinner

Maybe there's hope for the two of you to let go.

Your neck throbs as you feel his teeth sinking into you once again.

But soon you'll know

For if I'm going down

Naked in that garden

His arm remains under your pillow, the other around your waist and keeps you close to him, while both of your legs remain intertwined with one another. Marks and bites litter your body, as Malleus also bares his own from you, though you can say you were more careful of your claims on his own body.

You fear the consequences of being found, but you can’t help but indulge your lover any time he comes to you, needy and whiny for attention. You push your fears to the side, enjoying your simple and short time with the fae, slowly turning and moving to embrace him.

I guess I'll take you with me

You slowly bring yourself into waking up, eyes heavy with sleep and body sore once again, naked and warm. The cover of the duvet encases you in warmth from your own body, Malleus’ own body, cool and slowly warmed by your own, wrapped around you tightly.

You breathe in his scent, a natural smell with his usual soap and cologne, a mix that leaves you addicted and needing more of him. Your nails slowly rake up and down his back, the pale skin going pink and rising slightly, going to his back and hips, upper thigh and the bit of his shoulders you can reach.

Slowly, Malleus wakes, and simply enjoys your presence and attention.

He could only think that this is how he wants to wake up everyday.

But for now, he lives with your love in secret, until he has the power to keep you by his side as he sees fit.

Whether you still remain by choice, or not.