#idk how much of this makes sense but I promise it does in my head

[midnightsslut]

thinking about how the desperate attempt to cling to her childhood with speak now elicited mixed responses (scott telling her she couldn’t have a fairytale-inspired title like enchanted, romantic relationships with older men who took advantage of her inexperience vs the need to be america’s sweetheart), which led to a pivot to try to slowly grow up (hence a noticeable aesthetic change, more mature themes and sounds in her music, etc), only for that to be confronted with even more criticism (sit-downs over leaving the cursive fonts of her early albums behind, constraints to her sonic experimentation, scott generally doubling down on his control of her music because, in her own words, her success in pop with IKYWT/WANEGBT made him see her as a woman which felt threatening, a global slut-shaming campaign, the paula of it all). no wonder it led to the feeling that she had to double down on her maturation arc with 1989 to truly feel in control for the first time, which, in turn, tainted her memory of her previous two albums because they both felt constraining and slightly embarrassing compared to her newfound sense of liberation.

[moonstruckme]

hey lovely! I was wondering if I could request a remus or poly! marauders where the boys (or just remus) are keeping his werewolf thing a secret from whimsical!reader bc remus is scared she’ll be scared of him, but she secretly already knows. I feel like she’d just KNOW(you know? lol) and one day hints that she does to Remus saying that it’s going to be a full moon soon as like a warning or something and he and the boys kinda look at her like….what does she mean by that? lol idk I hope that makes sense.

Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1k words

They’re all always on edge as the full moon grows closer, but James thinks Sirius might be faring the worst. Two days out, he won’t let Remus so much as make his own tea, and when you’re still not home a couple of hours after you’re supposed to be, James has to talk him down from calling the police. 

Now, Remus is comforting him, though neither of them will admit it, the ailing boy’s arms banded securely around Sirius’ midsection where they lie on the couch. Every now and again, Sirius turns his head to kiss Remus’ chin as if to make up for it. James watches them both from the kitchen, wondering if he could get away with slipping some of the anti-anxiety tea you got Remus into Sirius’ brew. 

When they hear your key in the front door, he thinks he hears a relieved sigh go up from the couch. 

“Hi, angel.” James arrests you at the door, beckoning you into the kitchen. “Been missing you.” 

“Hey Jamie.” You set a couple of bags on the counter, letting him pull you in by the waist for a kiss. “Whatcha making?” 

“Lentil soup,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close. “Be extra nice to Sirius,” he whispers near your ear. “He’s been worrying himself crazy about you.” 

You pull back to look at him, lips parting bemusedly, but James just pecks you on the side of your head. “Go,” he urges. 

You do as he says, padding over to the couch. “Hi, Siri,” you say, kneeling by the couch. “How’s your—day been?” Your words become muffled halfway through when Sirius wraps his arms around you, pressing your face to his shoulder despite the awkward angle. 

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, worry inlaid with fondness. Remus’ hand migrates to the dip of his waist, pacifying. “You didn’t leave a note or anything.” 

“Sorry,” you say, slipping free of his grip so you can see him. Your fingers find a piece of his hair, running the satiny tress through your fingers distractedly. “I didn’t expect to be so long, but I couldn’t find Remus’ chocolate anywhere. I think it must be the holiday.” 

Sirius pauses. 

“You were gone all that time getting the chocolate Rem likes?” James asks. He peers inside the bag you’ve left on the counter, and sure enough—bags and bags of it, enough to last for months. 

“Mhm, I had to go to six stores. I saw you were getting low,” you say, now to Remus, “and I thought you might be wanting it.” 

James lowers the heat on his soup, setting a lid on the pot so he can join you all in the living room. Remus’ expression is wavering somewhere between guilty and lovestruck. Sirius looks plainly besotted.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” Remus says, reaching over Sirius to stroke at your cheek. “Thanks, dove.” 

You lean into his touch, cheeks dimpling. “It’s no problem,” you promise. Sirius has a look on his face like he wants to eat you. James feels similarly. “Oh,” you say abruptly, “I set up my diffuser in the bedroom earlier, but since it looks like you’re going to be out here for a while, would you mind if I brought it out?”

Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other. “Course not. But what did you have it in my room for?” 

“I put some rosemary oil in it.” You get up, aiming for the bedroom. “I thought it might be good for your headaches.” 

When you return, Sirius apparently decides he can’t contain himself any longer. He sits up on the couch, opening his arms for a proper hug. You set up the diffuser hastily and go to them, letting him squeeze the life out of you without complaint. Your eyes slip closed. 

“Sorry I scared you,” you say softly. 

“You’re forgiven.” Sirius stamps a kiss on the side of your head, rubbing your back roughly. “You’re pretty hard to stay mad at, you know that?”

“That’s the goal,” you reply breezily. James laughs. 

“How’d you know I had a headache today?” Remus asks, watching you and Sirius amusedly. 

You hum into Sirius’ shoulder, not opening your eyes. “Well, it’s only two days until the full moon.” 

Remus goes shock still. So does Sirius, cutting a look James’ way over your shoulder. What the hell is that supposed to mean? 

James shakes his head, shrugging. He hasn’t let anything slip, though he does think it’d be easier if you knew. He and Sirius have tried to coax Remus into telling you a few times now, but the other boy is obstinate. He’s been spurned too much in his life to willingly open himself up to the possibility of it, even if they all know you could never be afraid of him. He’s just not ready yet. 

Still, James thinks sitting here in petrified silence is as likely to give him away as anything else. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” James asks you. 

“Mm, nothing,” you hum blissfully, seemingly too content in Sirius’ hold to think about much else. He thinks he can hear Remus’ breath shake a bit on the way out. 

“Right,” James says. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen for a bit? I could use someone chopping while I stir, or the other way around.” 

“Sure.” You open your eyes, gently easing yourself from Sirius’ clutches. The raven-haired boy eyes you curiously as you go, quirking an eyebrow at James like What do you think she’s on about? James can only shrug again, putting a hand on the small of your back while he follows you into the kitchen. 

As he goes by, he looks again in the bags you’ve brought home. 

“Angel, why did you buy so many bandages?” 

You shrug, taking up a paring knife and beginning to chop celery with careful, even strokes. “We were running out of those, too. Usually you and Siri are more on top of this stuff, but I figured it’s time I started pitching in. I know it’s a difficult time of the month.” 

There’s a dull slapping sound from the couch, and James looks over to see Sirius with one hand covering his mouth, the other stroking soothingly at Remus’ hair. 

“Right.” James swallows. He glances back at you, but you’re just chopping celery, placid as can be. “Thanks for, uh, taking up the mantle.” 

You toss him an easy smile. “Anytime.”

[patrophthia]

Hi! Your Theodore Nott works are amazing so I was wondering if I could request something with grumpy!Theo. Maybe the reader is always laughing and just generally really happy and maybe Theo can't help but feel attracted to that sunny disposition and ends up just being annoyed by how much he likes it, idk just and idea.

Thank you for your work, it's absolutely amazing 🩷

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE IS MY JAM!!!! I GOT YOU!!

just fine | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff (duhhh), sunshine x grumpy, more of an extroverted reader

part of my 1k celebration event !

There's a few faults to you. You laugh too much, you talk too much, you're too nice, smile too bright, too bubbly, too friendly and Theodore likes you too much for his own good. 

Okay, maybe the last one is his fault rather than yours but it's getting irritating to see just how much you effected him by merely sparing a glance in his direction. Let alone, holding a full conversation with him. 

It's a nice Saturday afternoon, students bustling about as they climb up to the Quidditch pitch —it's going to be an intense match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, or so he heard. Blaise is leading the way for him and Pansy to follow, he signals for Theodore to sit and he does as told; you occupying the seat next to him just minutes after. 

You're cheering for Gryffindor, solely because you were friends with Potter and you're loud about it. Your thighs brushes against Theodore's, warm against the cool breeze and Theodore hopes that his ear doesn't betray him and flush up. 

You turn to him after a bit, moving your leg away to give him room as if you're afraid you've encroached his space. "Who are you cheering for?" 

"No one." In particular. Draco asked for him and the others to watch the game to study the other team's strategy seeing as he wasn't allowed to be here. "You're one of Potter's, fan girl?" 

"Not a fan girl," you corrected him with smile. "Just a friend." 

"Right," he huffs, turning back the game. From the corner of his eyes he could see you hesitating, probably wanting to make conversation; so —for the first time in his life, he tries to make small talk. "How're you liking the game so far?" 

It takes you a second to answer him, and he wonders what even possessed him to ask you this. Curse you and your weird magnetic pull. 

"It's fun," you tell him, gazing at him as you did so. "How're you?" 

He's slow when he replies. "Fine." Then as if he only realizes that you’re asking him how he’s enjoying the game rather than how he’s doing, he tries to save himself by adding: “enjoying it just fine.” 

And when you giggle at his words, seemingly have caught his slip up —yet, not bringing him up to save him from embarrassment. He decides that he likes you (not that this was new information to him). "Really?" 

Theodore nods. 

“That’s a shame,” you say, your tone is playful and there’s a teasing tilt to it. 

Theodore turns, and he meets you head on; there’s a blinding smile on your face, bright enough to render him blind if he were to look at you for too long, he decided. 

And so he turns back the pitch, ears perked up for your next words. “You should be having fun, Theo.” 

A hum is only the response you get, trying to play it cool as if his hand wasn’t clamming up at how he could still feel your eyes on him. Look away dammit. 

“How about we play a game?” You suggest after a minute. “I promise it’ll be fun.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he asks you: “what is it?” 

You’re smiling again, thighs brushing against his in your excitement. “We’ll make a bet. If Gryffindor wins you have to take me out to Hogsmeade this weekend.” 

“And if Ravenclaw wins?” 

A laugh bubbles out of you and he hates how it was second nature for him to look at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as your eyes glaze over with a sense of accomplishment. 

“If Ravenclaw wins then what happens?” He repeats. 

The smile on your face doesn’t leave, and Theodore hopes that it never does. “If Ravenclaw wins, I have to take you out to Hogsmeade this weekend.” 

He understands why you laughed now, why you found it so amusing when he asked what would happen just mere seconds ago. No matter the outcome of the game, he’d be spending the weekend with you. 

And he doesn’t mind it one bit. 

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

[joekeeryswife]

plz could you write something about mase looking after you when you’ve had a rough day with the baby!!

stress - m.m

a/n: hello angel! thank you for your request. omg i love it so much, kinda changed it a little if that’s okay! (dad! imagines own my heart!!!!). idk how to feel about this one so lmk what you guys think! anyways, let’s get on with the imagine, enjoy reading 🫶

mason mount taglist: @noturbabe22 @luvvtrent @peterparkerbae

four weeks, it had only been four weeks since you’d had your baby and you were already feeling like you’d failed her.

you knew becoming a mum would be difficult but you didn’t realise just how hard it was going to be. it was like everything you did was wrong.

Mason had gone back to work only a week after Margot was born and that was one of the worst thing to ever happen. you felt like you didn’t have support even though he would get up with her during the night and as soon as he got back from work he would take over looking after her. what was funny was whenever Mason got back from football she was never crying, it was like she could sense he was coming home.

Margot loved Mason. whenever he had her she hardly cried, she’d watch his face with such concentration and coo at him all the time. but when she was with you, she’d scream and cry no matter what you did.

you felt useless.

you felt like the worst mum in the entire world, not understanding what was wrong with her as she cried just hurt your heart. you just wanted to be in the ‘baby bubble’ everyone spoke about.

you wanted to feel like your friends did when they had their kids. they were always smiling, always happy when they were with their babies who hardly cried when they were with them, it was like you were broken.

today was like no other. it started out okay, Margot was actually happy this morning when you woke up, Mason had given her a bath and put her in the cutest outfit but then as soon as he said his goodbyes to the two of you and he drove out of the driveway, all hell broke loose.

she was just sobbing and it hurt you to hear those cries. “oh Margot, what’s the matter my angel. please don’t cry sweetheart. are you hungry? is that what it is?”

you quickly balanced her with one arm as you tried to lift up your pyjama top so you could breastfeed her but every time you tried to get her to latch she would turn her head away and sob louder.

you had realised that Margot would hardly ever latch when you tried to breastfeed her. it was very rare that she would allow you to breast feed her so you had decided to start pumping your milk and give it to her in a bottle instead and most of the time she would drink it from the bottle.

“how about we get you a bottle instead hmm? would that make you feel better?” you knew she wouldn’t reply to you but it was nice to speak to her. you got up from the sofa after fixing your top and warmed up the milk.

her sobs grew louder as you rocked her. waiting for the microwave to ‘ding’ felt like hours. “i know sweet girl, not long now” you poured the milk once it was warm enough into the bottle and went to sit back down on the sofa. you tried a few times before she finally started drinking the milk, her sobs died down but her eyes were still filled with tears and the tear stains on her cheeks broke your heart.

she was hiccuping slightly as she drank her milk but her eyes were fluttering masa img she was trying her best to not fall asleep. “you rest angel, mummy isn’t going anywhere. and i’m sorry i can’t understand you like your dad does, i promise i’m trying my best”

with that, her eyes closed and it was finally silent in the house. you just hoped today would be a lot better than the rest.

-♡-

Mason was back home a little later than expected tonight, he had been asked to stay back to speak to ten Hag which he forgot to tell you about but he knew you had it all okay at home. you always had Margot in a good-ish mood when he would come home and it was always nice to come home to a quiet house after training or a football match. he would hear shouting all day and coming home was just perfect.

you didn’t want Mason to know you were struggling, to you it felt like the worst thing i’m the world. you were meant to be a good mum as soon as you gave birth but you just felt like all you did was struggle. you had no idea what you were doing and you didn’t want Mason to be disappointed in you.

however, tonight Margot would not stop crying. after her bottle this morning she napped for maybe 30 minutes before her sobs started again and that continued for the entire day. you didn’t know what to do and you felt like you had failed as a mother. you had no idea what was wrong with her and you hated that you couldn’t understand what she was crying for. you felt like she hated you.

as Mason entered the house he could hear the wails coming from Margot, he had never ever heard her sound like this before and or worried him. he could hear you, speaking to her softly over her cries, you sounded just as upset as her. “i’m so sorry angel, i don’t understand why you’re crying. i’ve fed you, cuddled you, changed you, i don’t know what else i can do. i’m sorry i’m failing you”

his heart broke. he walked into the living room and saw you holding Margot in your chest with tears streaming down your face. you looked so defeated and he hated it. “hey, what’s going on? are you okay?” he questioned as he slowly walked towards you.

you hadn’t heard the front door close so hearing him made you jump. you didn’t want him ti see you like this so you quickly wiped your eyes and showed him your best convincing smile. “oh yeah i’m fine, she’s just, i don’t know what’s the matter. i think she just might be tired” you lied, of course you weren’t okay.

“do you want me to take her?” he held is arms out so he could take Margo from you so you quickly passed her to him and he gently started rocking her which no i’m surprise stopped her cries. you felt your heart break. was it really that easy?

your eyes filled with tears, jealousy and frustration taking over your body as you saw how easy it was for him to calm her down. “look, go upstairs and have a shower, i’ll take care of Margot and you just have a break okay?we can talk after if you want to” he watched your shoulders drop slightly and your chin quiver as you tried to hold in your tears, something was definitely wrong and he was going to figure out what.

once he heard the bathroom door close he sat down on the sofa with Margot. he watched her huge brown eyes dart across his face. “what’s happened angel? you giving mama a hard time?” she cooed at him, a small smile on her face which looked exactly like yours. “you can’t give mama a hard time honey, mama’s with you all day” she squealed, obviously not understanding him.

“i’m sure you tired, if you’ve been crying like that all day i’m surprised you’re up right now” he decided to grab a bottle and try get her to nap so he could speak to you. he had never seen you like that before.

he warmed up the bottle and went upstairs to her nursery and sat in the rocking chair. he started feeding Margot and immediately her eyes started to close, he honestly wished that he was able to stay off work with you when Margot was first born. he had only gotten a week off work before he had to go back and he felt awful but ten Hag wouldn’t give him anymore time off.

once Margot finished her bottle he turned on the white noise machine and put her down into her crib. he quickly exited her bedroom to leave her to nap and went to your shared bedroom. he wanted to talk to you, you barely speak to each other now and he wanted to spend time with you.

after waiting for a while you finally came out the bathroom in new pyjamas and your hair was wrapped in a towel. your eyes were red, it was obvious you had been crying. “hey” you said, noticing him on the bed. he opened his arms and waited for you to sit on the bed next to him so he could hug you.

you quickly got onto the bed and cuddled into him. “we haven’t cuddled in ages, we haven’t spoke in ages. i want to know what’s bothering you sweetheart. i’ve never seen you look so upset” he kissed your forehead.

“i just, i feel like i’m not a good mum. like everyday all she does as soon as you leave is scream and cry and i’m trying my best to understand what’s wrong with her and i’m struggling. i’m struggling a lot” you felt your eyes well up with new tears. Mason felt his heart break. he was annoyed with himself for not noticing sooner.

“it feels like she hates me. and i just feel stupid because as soon as she’s with you, you calm her down. she even smiles at you. i’m feeling so lonely and i feel like a terrible mum.” your tears started flowing down your cheeks. you were quietly sobbing as Mason pulled you in closer and ran his hand up and down your back.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart, i really am. i’m sorry i haven’t been here to support you, i’m sorry you’ve had to do it all on your own. it’s not fair at all. and i’m sorry you think that you’re a bad mum because you aren’t. you are the most incredible mum” he heard your sniffles, guilt eating him alive.

“if you weren’t a good mum you wouldn’t do half the shit you do now. she doesn’t hate you angel, she loves you. you don’t know what she tells me when i come home” he joked which made you giggle through tears.

“i know it is tough right now, but i promise it’ll get better.” you looked up at him with uncertainty. “it will, stop giving me that look” he gave you a sympathetic smile. he hated that you were feeling this way, he wanted you to enjoy being a mum.

“you stay here for a bit, i need to go do something. don’t come downstairs until i say alright? just watch some tv and i’ll be back” he gave you a few pecks before he left you in the bedroom, confusion filling your body. but nevertheless you grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, trying to finally relax.

-♡-

it had been over an hour since Mason asked you to stay upstairs and all you could hear downstairs was Mason’s footsteps. you had absolutely no idea what he was doing and you were nervous to even go back downstairs.

“y/n sweetheart you can come down now” you heard him shout up to you so you quickly turned off the tv and made your way downstairs. whilst you were upstairs Mason did come to get Margot who had awoken from her nap about thirty minutes into him leaving you upstairs.

you had gone to get her out of her nursery but Mason quickly shooed you away back to the bedroom so he could take care of her. you were grateful he went to help Margot, he knew how stressed you were and he was trying to make you feel better so he took Margot downstairs with him.

you walked down the stairs and into the living room and saw blankets and pillows covering the sofa with your favourite food on the coffee table and your favourite movie ready to play on the tv. Mason was holding a now very aware Margot who actually reached out for you.

“i know it’s not much but i thought maybe we could spend time together for once?” Mason handed Margot over to you and kissed you passionately. “i’d love to” you kissed him one more time before you both made your way to get under the covers on the sofa.

Mason pulled you into his hold and kissed your forehead. “i know this doesn’t make up for what’s been happening these past few weeks but i do want you to know me and Margot appreciate everything you do” you felt a smile form on your face as he spoke, he had a way with words which always made you feel special.

“i have also spoken to ten Hag and told him that i’m gonna take a few weeks time off to look after you both. i don’t want you to feel alone, ever, because i am here for you” you looked up at him, it was the first time he’d seen you smile in ages.

“i know you are, you didn’t need to take a few weeks off. will he not get angry at you?” you kissed his cheek and he shook his head. “i didn’t get to take the time of when she was first born so i i don’t care if he’s mad. i have a family to look after” he lent down to kiss you again.

you didn’t know why you were so anxious to tell Mason how you were feeling, you knew he would help you and you appreciated him. “thank you mase, i love you” he smiled at you “i love you more”.

[thoughtsforsoob]

Hiii!Can I ask for "arguments with txt" with comfort at the end?

arguments with txt

a/n: I just made like a texts version of this so please check out my last post! I will fulfill this request by making a more long form version about what arguments with them are like/about. (I hate conflict. If people are arguing or fighting in front of me, I will run off or just straight up have a panic attack, it's happened before. trust me. witnessing school fights in hs was not kind to me). I hope this is okay too :) hehe you almost got 2 parts in a way. Please enjoy! I’m currently cleaning out my inbox so idk how fast it’ll get done but I promise im doing my best. Thank you!!!

Yeonjun

Argument’s with him are very uncommon. He often time doesn’t take them very seriously that frustrates you to no end. You and him tend to argue about little things which is surprise because you seem to talk out all of the big things you guys go through. It’s very confusing to say the least. He’ll get upset with you for little things like for example: leaving your dish in the sink for later. It drives him up the wall and it really shouldn’t. His tactics for when he’s upset is to just get away from you and ignore you for an hour or two. you already know his habits so you just leave him be. He’s not really good at admitting he’s wrong or that his behavior was pointless but he knows it in his head. Over time, he’ll stop doing things like this but just give him some time. He’s adjusting to being the both of you in the apartment and not just him.

Soobin

it's so hard to argue with him because he will never want to face your issues head on. he's shy in nature so any conflict makes him nervous and he retreats, avoiding talking about it. he would much rather forgive and forget without say much at all. sometimes, though, it's impossible to forgive and forget without saying anything. when those situations so arise, you have to sit him down and talk to him very calmly. he responds better to this type of conversations. anyways, he is very silent when it comes to arguments as well. you can tell he's upset because his responses are so short and cold. the best way to ask him to talk is just asking him straight but with a very calm voice so as to not make him upset even more.

Beomgyu

I would hare to argue with him. He's so unresponsive when it comes to arguments. The only things he does is sit there and listen to you talk to him about what he's done wrong, roll his eyes with a huff and then just spew out all kinds of meant things. He knows what he's saying but he doesn't;t think it'll affect you in the long wrong. During one argument, you were getting on him about picking up his game remote from the couch and putting them into the little box you bought him for all the cables and remotes to are stored in. you also threw in a little comment about picking his dirty clothes off the bathroom floor and he lost it. he said you were lazy and did the same thing too (leaving your clothes behind). he only realizes what he's done when you start to cry right in front of him. he goes nuts apologizing and will def come to his senses when he sees you this way.

Taehyun

he will sit there at argue with you for hours, upon hours, upon hours. he is not going to back down because he hates being wrong. even if he knows he's wrong, he hates admitting it. he always eventually admits his faults but it takes a while. he is so stubborn and it causes quite a few issues in your relationship. something this causes the both of you to fight over the most silly things ever. one of the silliest ones for example was when you were talking about how much you loved in actor in a movie you had watched he'd recently. he insists that it was someone else and eventually he realizes hes wrong but he hates to say he made a mistake. he gives you silent treatment for a few hours and when that time is up, he goes to look for you and tells you to get ready because you're going to get food with him. he is such a mom when it comes to apologizing (my mom loves to mend our issues with a trip for boba or a trip to target where she buys me snacks or a new shirt or something).

Huening Kai

he is just like soobin in the aspect of a relationship. non-confrontational to the bone. arguments trigger his fight or flight and it frustrates him when arguments run too long. arguments with him are always about him putting himself down or not letting himself rest enough when he is clearly exhausted. thats all. you too can usually talk things out due to your extremely close bond but sometimes things get out of hand and you have to get on his case. it usually starts with him coming home in tears and beyond frustrated. this is almost always because he sat in the practice room and read comments left by mean people. or because ehe was struggling with a new choreography. you try to help him by telling him to wash up and get rest but he completely just blows up on you and tells you to butt out. you leave him alone but he realizes his mistake when he see you on the couch, covered with a blanket, watching tv without him. he sits next to you and apologizes. he is not someone who hates being wrong. if he's wrong, he'll apologize with no hesitation.

[onlyhuis]

late night talking

member — minghao x f reader genre — angst, idk if there's enough fluff for this to count as hurt/comfort but the ending is sort of happy ? word count — 2.1k synopsis — the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am. warnings — reader is very drunk and very very insecure, lots of crying, lots of internal back & forth, unreliable narrator moment, refers to reader as girlfriend/my girl/etc., idk if i'm missing anything else but lmk if i am notes — this is an old fic that i never really intended to be released but @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions convinced me otherwise. sorry this is not at all what i normally post lmao i swear don't write like this often i just found this in my drive that i wrote when i was in a very shitty mood. we will return to your regularly scheduled smut programming soon i promise lmao! leave a comment in the reblogs or send an ask if you enjoyed this? idk i am nervous to post this pls don't perceive me too much

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you're ugly when you're drunk.

“hao?”

your voice rings throughout the house, the sound shaky and quieter than usual.

he wouldn't even have known you were home if he hadn't heard your friend's car pull up minutes ago, bright headlights flashing through the bedroom window. he wouldn't have known, if he wasn't already worried sick at you being gone so long and consuming an unknown amount of alcohol. he should've been there with you, but too much was riding on the deadline for his students’ grades that had to be finished before midnight. any other day he would've been by your side the whole night, a steady hand on your arm for balance and a sharp eye on your glass just in case. he loves playing the role of protective boyfriend, letting his girl do whatever she wants because he'll always be there to watch over her. but he couldn't do that tonight, and it tears him up inside.

he hears your trudging footsteps down the hall, soft footfalls signalling your approach as you drag yourself towards the room. he pretends not to hear; he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this and embarrass you.

“you're home early,” he comments with a chuckle, but his sarcasm is lost on you in this state. it's well after 1 in the morning, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words, brows deeply furrowed.

“what— are you working on?” you ask after a moment, focusing all your energy on not stumbling over your words. 

you know how drunk you are, he knows how drunk you are, but even now you're still putting on an act. you hate feeling stupid in front of him, and right now you couldn't feel any stupider. the worst part is that you feel as stupid when you're sober as you do right now, but you couldn't tell him that.

he pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he surveys your current state. he can't risk hurting your feelings, especially in such a vulnerable headspace.

“grading finals,” he decides on. not too detailed to confuse you, not too simplified to make you feel stupid, just enough to make you feel involved.

distantly you feel your eyes welling up with tears. you don't know why, but at the same time you know exactly why. you're never good enough compared to him, not when you come home drunk in the dead of night, and he never does. not when he's so good at everything he touches, so talented and beautiful and perfect, and you're… not. 

he deserves someone at his level, an artistic genius like him who can help him with his work. someone with an eye for his paintings, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone who can keep him on his toes. someone who won't drag him down and burden him with your obvious lack of skill and your quality of being so embarrassingly lightweight that you need to be supervised at all times. 

“i’m sorry,” you finally muster. you can't find the words to explain what you mean, but you hope he's able to sense your sincerity.

“what for?” he asks. his voice is softer now. 

you hate it when he uses that voice. he's talking down to you, talking like you're a child and he has to explain everything to you in the gentlest way possible because you aren't capable of handling the truth.

you love when he uses that voice. sometimes he can be so blunt it almost feels isolating, but when he talks to you like you're a child in that sweet, gentle, kind tone you feel like everything will be okay. he can soften himself for you, drop his straightforward persona around you and be the tender man you know he's capable of being. 

you lift your eyes to his computer screen and the feelings you've been struggling with float back into view. “i'm sorry,” you repeat, voice cracking despite the effort you put in to stop it from breaking. it's all you can say.

you don't notice when the tears overflow, bursting from your eyes without a sound. you're embarrassing, you're an idiot, standing in front of him with red eyes and hunched shoulders as tears stream down your cheeks. you don't even feel them fall.

if he knows what you're trying to convey with your tearful apologies, he doesn't mention it. 

of course he knows, how could he not when he's so astute with everything? you suck at keeping things to yourself. 

of course he doesn't know, why would he take the time out of his busy schedule to care about how you're feeling? you're not worth his energy.

the moment seems to stretch on for eternity, standing in front of him. you don't know why you started dating in the first place; he doesn't have the time, you're too annoying, too clingy, too affectionate. standing in front of him, you don't feel anything. you just feel cold.

you turn to drag yourself out of the room, deciding that you've embarrassed yourself enough by now. you don't know where you'll go or what you're doing, probably to pour yourself a glass of water and try to sleep on the couch. obviously he won't want you to sleep in his bed when you’re like this, why should he? you aren’t deserving of that privilege.

but then you feel a warm hand on your wrist, gently tugging you back towards him. you lose your balance, stumble over your feet, fall onto his lap. you're mortified, barely able to get another “sorry” out before trying to stand again on wobbly legs. you shouldn't be here. you're so aware, so painfully conscious of your weight on him, every ounce of energy you have left fighting to keep yourself from annoying him even further but it feels like it's too late. everything that comes from you is too little, too late.

“no,” he says. his tone is still that soft, sweet sound, but his voice is firm and you don't try to get up again. “we can talk tomorrow,” he says as he begins to run his hand along your back, and you hate yourself for the way you instantly melt at his touch. “just… relax. calm down.”

your body slouches against his chest, feeling like a puddle on his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck whether you meant to or not. your legs dangle limply off his lap, arms wrapped loosely around the back of his chair as he holds you.

“it's okay,” he says simply, still stroking his hand along your back in small, soothing motions. “it's okay.” he repeats the words, maybe to convince himself but mostly to convince you from having a breakdown. even now when he's treating you so delicately, your brain won't let you rest: he's probably scared of you, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean any of it and he's using whatever means necessary to stop you from turning hysterical or even violent. of course it doesn't mean anything to him. 

“how much did you drink tonight, baby?” he asks, and you know you should take that as judgmental but you don't have the energy left anymore. you don't note the twinge of concern in his voice, you can't see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“a little— a lot,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. the real truth is that you lost count. you weren't trying to get drunk, but one turned into two turned into ten and before you even knew what you were doing a car was dropping you off in front of your house.

he shifts his legs for you to sit more comfortably on his lap, and as much as you want to fight it you don't have the strength to. “do you want to go to bed?” he asks gently. “or do you want to stay up with me?”

“don't… want you to go to bed ‘cuz of me,” you mumble against his neck. god, his skin is so soft and warm. you couldn't move your body right now even if you tried. “not your fault.”

“what kind of guy would i be if i didn't take care of my girlfriend when she needs me?” he asks. “i can put you to bed if you want. it's alright. it's late anyway.”

“it's not– your job,” you manage to reply, and his hand on your back stops for a second.

“it is my job,” he says softly. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i'm sorry if you feel like i haven't done that.”

“please, don't— no sorry,” you choke out as fresh tears prick at your eyes. “it's my fault. i'm sorry. it's my fault.”

he holds you tighter, both arms wrapped around you on his lap now. “it's not your fault,” he says in that same firm but gentle voice. “you haven't done anything wrong at all. it's alright, baby, i promise. you don't have anything to worry about. why are you sorry?”

“i don't know,” you mumble. your hand clutches at his chest unconsciously, balling his t-shirt in your fist. “i dunno. i love you. i dunno.”

“i love you, too,” he says after a beat. the tears, the drunken outburst, he just lets it all happen. without a word of complaint. despite the voices in your head fighting to convince you otherwise, he never says a single negative thing to you.

you know he's not normally like this. with everyone else he's polite, unemotional, reserved. he's never vulnerable. which is why you're so confused right now.

“why?” you slur, still grasping onto hope.

he hums in questioning, nudging you to elaborate.

“why are you like this to me?”

but now he's the one who's confused. “like what?”

you pause, and the room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound your shallow breaths against his chest. “nice.”

for all his knowledge, this time he's actually lost. “why would i not be nice to you?”

“i don't deserve it.”

he shifts again, pulling you closer to his chest as he starts to run his fingers through his hair. “of course you do, baby.”

“you don't deserve me.”

he stops again, this time in shock. “hey. that's not true.”

“is too true,” you say. your eyes are closed and you can't help the frown overtaking your face. “you should have somebody you deserve. it's not me.”

he just sighs, and you feel his chest expand beneath your cheek at the deep breath he takes. “i love you, baby. not anyone else. you'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk then. but i'm not mad at you, okay? there's nothing wrong. everything's okay.”

you try to mimic his sigh, but the angle you're laying at on his chest and the alcohol in your system makes it hard to breathe deeply. 

“do you want to keep sitting with me?” he asks. he knows how much you like the sounds his keyboard makes, the quiet tapping as he enters grades and types comments to his students about things you could never fathom to understand.

your eyes stay closed and your head doesn't move. “yeah,” you murmur softly.

he settles back into his chair, you curled up on his lap. he's not doing much, he's finished the worst of it and now just entering numbers. he glances down at your figure, almost asleep on him, and he feels an ache in his chest. 

every emotion feels amplified to you right now, but if it took getting blackout drunk for you to finally say it then it must've been weighing on you for a long time coming. he wonders how long you've felt like this, felt inadequate compared to him, and it makes him pause. it was never his intention. when you're awake and sober and hopefully not massively hungover, then you can talk, and he can make this right.

he loves the person snuggled against his chest, loves the feeling of you comforted and protected by him, and he'll do anything to make sure you know that. he'll do anything to let you see yourself the way he sees you. above all the worries he has about you, he knows one thing for sure.

you're cute when you're drunk.

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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[f0point5]

As if you couldn't turn Max watching her breathe into a masterpiece, don't lie🙄 idk maybe they're driving around in her new car and they coincidentally see Elliot😂 would be a nice reprieve from *clenched teeth* freddie

Sooo.

I tried to incorporate a bit of Max watching her just breathe because it’s funny. But also Elliot. But also the car.

But also mostly I was just freaking out because the male perspective is so alien to me. This might suck. We’re going to be KIND if it sucks because I’m just a girl okay men don’t make sense to me.

Anyway, I’m deciding to name this one because this is what I was listening to when I wrote it.

✨set during winter break✨

Call It What You Want To

“How do you take this long to get ready?” Max groans in frustration, dragging his hand over his face.

He’s been waiting 45 minutes. Not the longest he’s ever waited for you, but he’s been looking forward to this night out for two whole days. After everything that’s gone on in the last couple of weeks, and how none of that is likely to be resolved before Testing next week, he could really use a drink or twelve.

“I’m almost done,” he hears you call back, your tone telling him you’re unbothered by leaving him waiting. “Do you want everyone to think you have an ugly girlfriend?”

Max opens his mouth to reply but closes it just as quickly. What is he supposed to say to that? That no one on earth has ever thought his girlfriend is anything less than breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that it stopped him for thinking you could ever be his girlfriend more than once? That sometimes during a race he looks at the tv screens on the track in case you’re on camera? That whenever he passes the picture of you in his hallway he thinks he’d have hung it up even if he didn’t know you, because you’d still be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen? No. He’s not saying any of that. Three months is way too soon to let you know that you could use his balls as earrings. It’s not like you need a bigger head.

“I want my girlfriend to get to the club before it closes,” he shouts, stifling a smile. It’s been three months, but he still likes saying girlfriend.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he hears you say, your voice getting closer as you make your way to the living room. “We can’t all just put on a t-shirt with a funny saying on it and-“

You stop when you round the couch and finally notice him staring at your slinky black satin dress. Actually, he’s staring at the parts of you not covered by the dress, which gives him a lot to stare at. He might just give everyone what they want and quit driving if they could promise him he’d only have to lol at you in this dress for the rest of his life.

“What?” You ask him, which has him blinking furiously, trying to focus. You’re holding out a pair of heels to him, the ones you bought with the gift card his dad’s wife had given you for your birthday.

“Nothing,” he says, taking the shoes from you. He shifts off the couch to kneel in front you, lifting your leg to put the shoes on your foot and do up the buckle. “You look good,”

Above him, he hears you chuckle, and then your fingers run through his hair. You’re petting him like a cat, and he’ll be damned if he ever admits how close he feels to purring.

“Why does that still sound like it’s painful for you to admit?” You tease, using a bit more of your nails on the final run through of his hair.

“It’s not painful,” he tells you winding the glittering strap around your ankle.

It’s not painful. Sometimes it’s a lump in his throat, or a tightening in his chest. Sometimes, when he’s on one knee in front of you like he is now, it’s an urge to say something he can’t yet find the words for. But no, it’s not painful.

He finishes with your other shoe, squeezing your calf gently before placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.

“You’re just painfully gorgeous,” he says as he gets to his feet. “Can we go?”

You roll your eyes at him with with a smile. “Your car or mine?”

********************

He chooses to take your car. Every time he gets in your Ferrari, he thinks about Vegas. He drives it often.

He weaves through the streets of Monaco with one hand on your thigh, and he can’t remember where the fuck he was putting that hand before you.

“The thing is, unless the contract gets sorted next week, he’s totally fucked,” you’re saying as Max turns onto Avenue Princesse Grace. There’s a gaggle of people outside with their phones out. Simply fucking lovely. “You’re not listening to me are you?”

Max turns to you, squeezing your thigh as the car slows. “Of course I am, Engel. Do me a favour? Just say fuck again, a bit slower,”

“You’re twelve,”

“You would not have gone out with me at twelve,” Max jokes, slowing to a stop in front of Twiga as a valet comes towards the car.

“You were cute at twelve,” you say, “fourteen is where it started to go haywire,”

Before he can respond, you’re getting out of the car, and immediately the camera phones are focused on you. Max follows you out, handing the keys to the valet as he tries to ignore the feeling of being hunted. He wonders if they know he can hear every word they’re saying. He wonders if they’d like him to take their picture and post it all over the internet. He watches you slink through the crowd towards him, not even bothering to pretend you’re not being watched.

It’s ironic, he thinks, he brings the spotlight, but you’re the one who shines in it.

Inside the lobby, you head straight for the elevator while he talks to the woman at the front desk- it’s a well rehearsed routine. Lando isn’t here yet, typical. He asks if they can send over some St. Tropez cocktails and some gin tonics, and texts Lando to hurry up, before turning to join you at the lifts.

Except, he notices, you’re not alone. You’re standing by the lifts, with a big smile on your face, explaining something to a guy with a familiarly large head.

Max has seen Elliot around a couple of times. Monaco is stupidly small, especially in the winter when it’s nearly empty. The two men always studiously ignore each other, because what is there to say? Max doesn’t know if Elliot knows that you’re together now, and he knows it shouldn’t matter, but it does.

He didn’t hate Elliot in Austin, even though he’d planned to. But then they’d met and Max found he really couldn’t hate someone who was as smitten with you as he was, as he’d always been.

He finds that he kind of hates Elliot now, though, as he gets close enough to hear you giggle at something.

“No. It was actually okay, just cold, you know?“ you stop when Max places a hand on the small of your back, where you dress is low enough that he’s touching your skin. You turn to him. “Oh, hey. Is Lando here?”

Max shakes his head.

“Typical.” You sigh. “Max, you remember Elliot, right?”

“Yeah.” He says, and they shake hands. How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” Elliot says with a shrug. His shirt matches your dress. Fuck him.

“Well, you can if you want,” Max jokes, except it’s not a joke because he hates those Britishisms. If you want to say something just say it. And if things are fine and you have nothing to complain about why make it sound- he just doesn’t like the guy. And he doesn’t like that you liked the guy.

Mercifully, the lift arrives, and when it does, Max steps aside.

“You take this one,” he says, gesturing to the open lift. Elliot looks like he wants to refuse out of politeness in the way only English people do, so Max forces himself to put everyone out of their misery. “It’s the least I can do,”

It’s such a dickhead thing to say, but he can’t help but smirk, and it does the trick. Elliot gives both of you a tight lipped smile and steps into the lift, pulling out his phone as the door closes.

You turn to face him, his hand falling away from your back as you fix him with a quizzical look. He waits for you to chastise him for his comment, then wonders fleetingly if you’re comparing him, in his silly t-shirt and tight jeans, to Elliot in his perfectly crisp chinos. Then he finds himself staring at your lips.

“Oh, right,” you say suddenly, tapping his shoulder. “That’s what I was saying. So this builder says he’s ordered all the materials, but he has to no contract. And my dad…”

Max listens to you talk, winding his arms around your waist in a way he’s still getting used to, and you smile at him in a way he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He promises himself then never to get angry with you when you’re getting ready. You’re worth the wait.

[shigamochii]

Shigaraki Headcannon's Again:

CW: SFW, Slight Mention's of NSFW but it's mostly SFW. Mention's of s/o. f!reader.

★.🩸.★

Music Taste:

I like to think Tomura listens to metal and heavy metal music such as: Slipknot, Metallica, Rammstein, etc. I do like to think he listens nu-metal music as well. (ex: KoRn, Static-X, Nine Inch Nails, etc.).

I feel like Tomura would secretly love pop music from the 2000's or like emo music from that era, it's mostly like MCR. It's hard to imagine him listening to crunkcore or scenecore stuff. I'm open minded with it.

If Tomura has a gf (s/o) he would be happy to share his selection or taste in music with you, he enjoys sharing his interests with the person he truly loves.

Tomura does still wear his usual outfit which consists of his long sleeve v-necked shirt and black pants that reveal his ankles. In his downtime or whenever the LoV doesn't have anything going on, he chills around base in a casual t-shirt and sweats.

If you're wondering.. yes, he wears band t-shirts sometimes. I like to think his most favorite one is Slipknot not only does he like the music/band but likes the shirt designs.

I don't really see Tomura being one to head bang to the music he plays, I like to think he uses this genre of music as a sort of stress reliever, if that makes sense? I do the same thing so.. ya lmao.

Aside from just metal music, I think Tomura would listen to vaporware or some type of synthwave music. Perhaps some 80's pop and rock.

If you and Tomura are cuddling he would most likely put on something more calm and relaxing to fit the mood between the two of you. It wouldn't be much of a good idea to play metal while trying to unwind and cuddle lol.

If Tomura has wireless earbuds or even wireless, he would definitely want to share his earbud with you, again I think the man would want to share his music taste with you and only you. Tomura knows you won't judge him for his interests on anything and he loves you for that, heh.

*Dumb Thought: but if you have a driver's license since y'know Shiggy can't drive because of his quirk or maybe he can, idk. If you're on a drive together, you'll let him play music. Shiggy loves playing DJ in the car. It makes him feel special.

★.🩸.★

NSFW Mention's (18+):

(these might not be good so.. bear with me..)

If you and Tomura are engaging in sexual activities we would most likely play music that's toned down, maybe soft rock.

I like to think one time Shiggy played metal while pounding away at your pussy and after that day you banned him from playing metal while the two of you fucked. You were extremely sore after that day too lmao.

Shiggy loves fucking you to sexual songs and I mean heavily sexual songs like: Closer, Freaky Now, Tonight I'm Fucking You, etc. He thinks it kind of sets the mood to get down and dirty.

I also see Shiggy not playing music all the time, he enjoys hearing your cute little mewls and moans when he thrusts into you, he loves hearing the sounds of his skin against yours. He just wants to hear you in general.

★.🩸.★

That is all l have so far, some random headcannon's based around Tomura and music. I'll try to do more in the future if I can think of any to do, if you have any ideas my inbox is open. If I haven't gotten back to anyone, I promise I'm not ignoring sometimes I'm really unsure on how to answer certain asks in my inbox.

[bunni-v1]

idk if this counts as a story idea but may I request Lillia x child human reader. It was during the fae and human war and you were his kid but got ripped away by the humans from the war and years later you reunite.

Stay safe pls!! <33

Lost and Found

TW: War Trauma!; Lilia does stalking again but only a little; You look like Lilia

Info: Lilia x Reader (familial); Angst with a happy(?) ending; Not cannon compliant; Not my finest piece my bad guys

🍓I LOVE writing Lilia. I started writing him for Cureé and I realized how silly he is. I was a bit lost on how to go about writing this since canonically Lilia didn’t know how to (or didn’t know he could) love until Malleus. But… tbh making shit up is what fanfic is for lol.

Fae can only be born through love. That was a fact that all Fairies knew. You could not produce a child unless there was mutual love. So, it was quite a surprise when General Lilia found himself stuck with a child who looked a little too much like him for it to be a coincidence.

He was not capable of love, at least… he didn’t think he was. He had no clue who could’ve mothered you — he had no idea who he loved, except the princess of course, but she did not love him back… Without your mother, what was he supposed to do? He was a General and he was in the midst of a war — how could he have time to raise a child?

He would’ve dropped you off on someone else’s doorstep, making you another unsuspecting person's responsibility. When he looked into your big red eyes, he knew he couldn't. You didn’t ask to be born just like he didn’t ask for you. Whether he liked it or not, you were his responsibility and he was just going to have to live with that fact.

So after drills and horrific blood-filled battles where he lost hundreds of soldiers, he would return home to you. 

You were old enough to be walking and talking, and boy did you walk and talk. You wandered around his small quarters and babbled on and on about things he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It was annoying, at first. He was used to silence when he was alone — he treasured it. You did not.

Still, he put up with it because he didn’t have a choice. 

He would make you little meals — none of which looked all that… delectable, but you scarfed them down like they were the best things you’d ever had. Maybe they were.

Eventually, he began talking to you — about his troubles, about his day, about his workload. It didn’t matter, because you would sit there and listen attentively to everything he had to say and respond with the best sentence you could muster for your age.

He hated to admit it, but he came to care about you. He liked spending time with you after his long day, and worried about you while he was gone. Each milestone you crossed filled him with a sense of pride he’d never gotten on the battlefield. He adored each hair on your head, even when your little hands were tugging too hard on his own while you tried to practice braids.

He even began to teach you magic and loved how your face would light up when you got a spell right. 

The both of you would go for runs together in the forest, and your long black hair — so much like his — would flow in the wind.

When it would storm, you would cry until he wrapped you up in a blanket and held you tight in his arms.

He would’ve been happy with this little life he had with you. He could’ve lived his days out like this and been satisfied.

War tears families apart, though. War does not have favorites. War doesn’t discriminate.

He should’ve known better, he should’ve been more careful, he should’ve moved you as soon as he knew humans were in the area. He didn’t, though. He left you there and promised you that he would be right back. He promised you that he’d keep you safe.

He rarely failed his missions, but this one he had. He came back to his home ransacked and you gone. 

He searched for hours: Nothing.

He screamed your name until his throat was raw: Nothing.

He begged his men and friends to look: Nothing.

It was one of the few times in his life he cried. It was one of the only times that he could not stop. The little family portraits you’d made served as cold reminders of what he had lost. He could hardly handle looking at anything that belonged to you, so he locked it away in a little box and hadn’t opened it since.

That was centuries ago, and Lilia had long since moved on from his loss. He only hoped that the humans did not kill you — that they had enough humanity to let a child survive, even if you were his. That, maybe, you were still happy and alive out there.

He used what he learned from you to raise his boys — who were his pride and joy. Still, he missed you every time that Malleus would proudly show him a drawing of their little family. Or when Silver looked at him in excitement after finally perfecting a spell.

You would’ve loved your younger brothers, he was sure of it. If only you could be there to see what they’ve all achieved.

Still, they grew and time passed until eventually Malleus and Silver were both attending NRC. Lilia joined them — half to keep Malleus safe, half because it seemed like a fun idea. He had seen most things in his life, so there were few surprises left that could actually surprise him.

Seeing Malleus chatting with a near-carbon copy of himself, however, did quite the number on his old heart.

You were short — still taller than him, unfortunately — and had grown your hair out so you could put it up in a ponytail. Long like his used to be. Your red eyes seemed to sparkle in such a familiar way. His heart and his head couldn’t take the shock, so he slipped away before he could be spotted.

He continued to observe from a distance, trying to convince himself that he was wrong. That it could not be you after all these years. Everything proved him wrong. The way you talked, your mannerisms, and your love for art. Especially your keen eye.

When you cornered him in between classes was when he really knew it was you. You had a scowl on your face that could scare off any trained soldier. It was his scowl.

“Are you going to explain why you’ve been following me all this time, or am I gonna have to use force,” you said, just as he might’ve so many years ago.

He didn’t have much of a defense, so he improvised, “I like your art, watching you draw is interesting.”

“That's…” He was busted,  “a bit creepy… If you liked my art you could’ve just talked to me, I know I’m a little scary looking but I don’t bite.”

Thus began the ruse of art-loving Lilia. The two of you would meet up around campus and he would watch you sketch these elaborate drawings like it was nothing. He always knew you would be a talented artist. 

He got to know you again. Got to see what you liked, and what you didn’t like, and learned that you couldn’t taste — which explains why you ate his cooking so happily. He found out that you were saved by a loving human family who not only adopted you but did their best to let you learn about your origins. He knew you were loved in the way that you were meant to be — in the way he never would’ve been able to during that time. 

It helped heal his heart enough that he was able to go through that little box of your stuff that he had kept for so long. He had missed looking at the little drawing of you and him you’d given him for his birthday.

Truthfully, he thinks you forgot all about him, and he was okay with that. Less pain for you to suffer through. Then, one day, that changes.

The pair of you were in his room because he had this cool piece of architecture you were dying to sketch out in person. He had left the room for only a few moments, but when he came back you were focused on his desk, and he realized that he did not put things back into the box like he usually did the night prior. You were staring at one thing in particular, the picture you drew all those years ago.

“I apologize for the mess,” he sounded behind you, but you didn’t react. 

Instead, you picked up the little picture yourself to examine it closer. The silence as you observed the piece made Lilia’s skin crawl.

Finally, you turned to him with an awkward smile, “This is gonna sound crazy, 'cause we’re both college students, but… did you ever have kids — like, your own kids?”

Unsure of how to respond, he muttered, “Once.”

“Were they taken by humans,” you followed up.

“A long, long time ago.”

“This is probably a stretch, but, do you think that maybe you could be my dad…?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, face going stiff as if he was once again that young soldier who found you crying on his doorstep after your mother abandoned you. You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what to do yourself when he was looking at you like that. 

“It was just a stupid question, I’m sorry,” he didn’t respond, “I’ll go. Sorry.”

As you began to walk out, his mind came back to him and he kicked into full gear, “Wait, no, I’m not upset. Please… sit, let’s talk.”

Talk you did. About him and his life. How you disappeared and how he searched for you for so long. Then about his boys, and how much he loved them and how badly he wished that he could tell all of you the truth. You cried as hard as you could, and he swaddled you up as best as possible and wrapped you up in his arms — like he always used to do. He cried too, the hardest he had in his entire life. Because you were safe, and because you were reunited with him.

At some point, you asked, “Did you miss me?”

He could only respond, “Every single day.”

[rxmqnova]

Say that request are open so I have one for Scarlett x sister!reader

Reader is Scarlett younger sister maybe we are around 15-17. We used to be really close to Scarlett when we were younger but don’t see her anymore because she’s always busy with work. So one day she promised us she would take us out but completely forgets about it and she doesn’t realize into the next few days that she forgot she had plans with us and comes over to her parents house to try and make it up to us.

Idk if this makes any sense….

Forgotten sleepover

Y/N: 15 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV Humming her favorite song Y/N's finishing up her make-up, so she could go out with her older sister tonight.

Scarlett and Y/N used to be very close. Y/N used to tell her sister everything, she used to sleep over at her house nearly every weekend, though over the last few years they seem to have grown apart.

It's been a really long time since Scarlett had time for her little sister. It's not that she wouldn't want to, because she would want nothing more, but she's been working really hard on her own skin care line, The Outset. And if she's not at The Outset office, she's on set.

Y/N's been begging her older sister to make some time for her and it finally happened. It's Friday and the two are going out for dinner and then Y/N's even sleeping over at Scarlett's house just like the old times which she's super excited about.

Last few touches and Y/N's ready to go. She takes her bag and rushes downstairs to put on her shoes as Scarlett should be here in any minute.

Minutes after minutes pass though and Y/N's still waiting, thinking whether she should call her sister or not. Scarlett promised to spend time with her, so she surely needs to be here soon.

Meanwhile Scarlett shuts the door of her house, a sigh of relief escaping her lips after another stressful day at work. The blonde can't wait to have dinner, take a shower and go to bed. So that's exactly what she does, completely forgetting about the sleepover she promised to have with her little sister.

After nearly 2 hours of waiting Y/N gives up, tears filling her eyes while she's rushing back to her bedroom. She was so excited to finally see her sister and to spend some time with her and Scarlett just doesn't come.

———

The weekend flies by fast and it's Monday now. Scarlett still hasn't realized anything, though she's quite confused as why isn't her sister answering her calls and messages.

The blonde sighs after calling her little sister for what feels like a 100th time this morning. Right now she's home and about to drive to The Outset office.

She opens the calender on her phone to check what she needs to do today, her eyes widening when she spots what she had planned for last Friday's evening.

She needs to go to work though, so that's what she does and her entire day gets filled with thinking how could she make up last Friday to her baby sister.

When Scarlett finally leaves the office, instead of back home she drives to her parents' house, hoping Y/N would be home and she could make it up to her somehow.

She immediately heads upstairs, knowing her sister is most likely to be in her bedroom. And after knocking and opening the door, she finds her little sister sitting on her bed and scrolling on her phone.

"Mom, I'm really not hungry right now" Y/N says without looking who's at the door, making Scarlett let out a chuckle which makes Y/N look up. "What are you doing here? Don't you have some super important work to do?"

"Don't be like that, Y/N" Scarlett sighs, walking over to her sister's bed and taking a seat next to her.

"I was waiting for you 2 hours. I was so excited and you didn't even let me know you wouldn't come" Y/N crosses her arms over her chest, looking at her older sister.

"I'm sorry, I had a really stressful day and I just-"

"As always" Y/N scoffs. "You never have time for me anymore. I just want to spend some time with my sister. Am I asking too much?"

"Honey, I'm really, really sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you" Scarlett places her hand on her younger sister's knee, giving it a rub, though Y/N just rolls her eyes in response.

"Don't promise me anything when you can't fulfill the promise, Scarlett. I don't want to be disappointed again" Y/N says, her arms still crossed as she's looking at her sister.

"… Okay, fine. Pack your things. We're leaving" Scarlett orders, Y/N furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "Come on, we'll have the sleepover"

"Scarlett, I have school in the morning. I-"

"I will drive you to school on my way to the office. You'll probably be there a bit sooner, but whatever. So? Are you coming or not?" Scarlett raises an eyebrow, watching her sister's still confused face impression and waiting for an answer.

"I- Y-yeah, I-I'm coming"

"Good. I'll talk to mom about it and wait for you downstairs" Receiving a nod, Scarlett makes her way downstairs while Y/N's rushing around her room to pack everything.

———

"I didn't really have time for cooking, so pizza for dinner?" Scarlett asks, closing the door of her house as the two just stepped inside.

"Sounds good" Y/N smiles, suddenly dropping her bag on the floor and practically jumping into her sister's arms, holding her tightly and never wanting to let go of her again.

Scarlett looks at her sister confused before shaking it off and wrapping her arms around the younger girl, a smile forming on her face.

"I missed you so much" Y/N mumbles out, still holding her sister tightly.

"I missed you too, sweetheart. I'm really sorry about last Friday, Y/N/N. I'll try to work on my schedule, so you and I could hang out more. Would you like that?" Scarlett asks, placing her hand on Y/N's cheek and rubbing it with her thumb.

"That would be awesome… Only if it's not too much of a trouble for you though" Scarlett can't help but smile on her sister's words, pulling Y/N in for another tight hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you so much, Y/N/N" Scarlett smiles, pressing another kiss to the younger one's forehead.

"I love you too, Scarly"

----------------------

Scarlett Johansson masterlist

Masterlist

[ughdontbeboring]

only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?” 

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC cast x short and fluffy reader? (Maybe the reader has an extra fluffy tail)

TADC cast x short and fluffy!reader !

Ooo I wanna make brioche, but I also wanna make macarons... but I also wanna make scones... OOOOOO but I also wanna make butterscotch haystacks (having a crisis) (this is totally unrelated to the ask I just be yappin)

CAINE:

Now to be fair, you didnt specify how short you are so to Caine you're probably just normal sized/j .. absolutely loves your fluff, probably runs his hands through it every chance he gets, regardless of if its hair, feathers, or fur! Since you're on the smaller side he can pro comfortably hold you in his arms while flying around! Loves showing you how the grounds look from above, I think!

No thoughts only Caine taking you up to fly over the grounds while its nighttime and you see all the lights down below and everything looks so pretty!!

He wont drop you I promise

POMNI:

You're normal sized in her eyes/j

Keeps her hands to herself but if you offer to let her pet your tail! Good stress relief, I think! Pomni never really initiates it before you offer, though, since she doesnt really want to invade your personal bubble

Please communicate with her that it's fine and it's not something you mind!

RAGATHA:

Occasional pets! She kind of lies somewhere between pomni and jax in terms of how much shes going to pet you without any prompting! More so a head pats person than a tail.. stuff?? Trust me the "tail stuff" makes more sense when you read jax's part..! Doesnt make fun of you for your height, i just cant see ragatha doing that. I was originally gonna say she would make petnames for you based on it, but I'm not actually sure she would.. has probably made bows and stuff for your tail!

JAX:

(Bumping my fists on the table) jax fidget hc jax fidget hc !!!!! Messes with your tail when its within reach; usually just messing with the fur or lightly bapping it around and watching it instinctively move around in response! He would already tease you for being shorter than him... but if you're actually below the average height (or at least, the average within the digital world) then hes gonna lean really into it! Makes a show of getting something down for you, probably overstretches himself and gets on his tip tops to sell the point (he, of course, not needing to do any of thst thanks to his height)

KINGER:

The "how to talk to short people" meme but hes on the incorrect side by crouching down to your height/j he doesnt mean anything rude by it..! Sometimes likes to mess with your tail by petting the fur when you guys cuddle inside the pillow fort! Honestly I can see him with a fidgeting habit, too, like jax! But I think his is less intense and he has a little more restraint.. that said once you give him the go ahead hes gonna be constantly petting your tail if it's long enough

ZOOBLE:

(Watches your tail swish around) "oh... cool.."

Zooble doesn't exactly feel this way or that about your tail, however I will say you extra fluff makes cuddling with them more enjoyable since they look like they're made of hard plastic (Zooble I'm sorry I love you)

Probably lightly teases you for your height; not to the extent jax does it but they probably let out a flat "haah.. short.." when you briefly struggle with something non important

GANGLE:

Short person x person who can (physically and emotionally) be knocked down easily; you guys both have your own struggles/j

Would never ever in a million years make any mean comments on your height, and this includes teasing and nicknames; she doesn't have the heart to even lightly poke fun at you

Petting can be a little weird, since gangle doesnt exactly.. have hands.. I mean she does, but they're like the ends of ribbon; she doesnt have palms or fingers, nor can she put the most force behind her touches (at least that's my personal hc, she doesnt strike me as someone who's. Strong... or even proportionally strengthed? Idk shes ribbon)

Very silly she loves it when your tail starts swishing around when you see her!!

[fuxuannie]

❥ . until the end, forevermore

✦. synopsis — stargazing with leon brings a sense of comfort and room for laughter, however oddly enough, it leads to a conversation that you or him needed to hear.

✦. love mail — 💌 ignore the 100th layout change pls i'm very indecisive ;_; eeuuueeuu... i really like soft leon can u tell uwjehejr I REALLY HOPE PEOPLE LIKE THIS i love it sm personally

✦. tags — fluff, comfort-ish, ooc.. possibly, soft leon, re4 remake leon, idk what i was doing with this, g-neutral reader, one tiny suggestive joke doesnt rlly matter

Laying uncomfortably in a patch of grass and staring at the sky wasn't exactly LEON's idea of a fun time, but when he's actually there in the moment - he doesn't realize how calming it really is. It's been a rough couple of days.. weeks, years - life. Something as simple as stargazing, it made him feel at ease.

Of course, you holding his hand next to him and hearing to your heart-warming laughter was an added bonus.

"Look, I don't know how much longer I can pretend I can see the shapes you point out and not think you're crazy." Leon teased, turning his head to you as your eyes were still fixated on the stars. You don't reply, but he doesn't complain, gives him more time to admire you.

Sometimes he feel like he doesn't do it enough, spending his time to look at you, then on the other hand it feels like it's all he ever does. You're the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last person on his mind as he drifts to sleep, he's so inlove with you but never in a way that it hurts, but that it lets him feel at home.

You make him feel like he's home.

"You know you're supposed to be gazing at the stars, right?"

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't realize you've turned to face him, a look of warmth that he always sees in your eyes. "Well I've found myself something prettier."

"Corny."

"For you, always."

You chuckle a little at his one-liner, squeezing his hand as you do. It's always the little things that you do that make his heart race.

You then spoke;

"I had a weird thought." "Oh? In public?" "Shut up."

"This life.. it's really screwed us over."

"Yes, it has."

You move a little closer to lean your head on his shoulder, looking back up at the stars that seemingly shone brighter just for this moment.

"I think in our next we should just become like.. I dunno, cat owners."

Leon smiles.

"Nah.. You sound stupid."

...

"I'd rather have a dog."

You gasp in fake offense, jolting up immediately. "How dare you-" But he easily pulls you back in, landing on his chest as his arms wrap around you and essentially trap you in the most comfortable way ever. You're about to protest, but he adds;

"I promise that in our next life, if your little.. ideas about reincarnation are real, then I'll love you as I did in this life and the lives after that. Because for however long there is a (name) and Leon, there will be (name) and Leon. That's how it works, I don't make the rules.

You blinked a few times in surprise, but eventually nuzzle against his chest. "You stole that one from a book you read?"

"I hate reading."

"Idiot."

"It means it came from my heart you asshole!"

[dendro-bunny]

Drawn to you like the sea to the shore ======================

Rafayel X Reader

(A/N): bro- why am I actually like this man having inspiration to write at 12 am. Like am I ok? Idk anyway I wrote this in one sitting and I forgot how to write… it’s been so long :(

Warning: Suggestive, pretty fluffy, light body dysmorphia (why does this work have a ‘y’ in it? Like English please chill for once!) 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As you push the door from your bathroom you look at your boyfriend bashfully. You pull on your dress away from your body. You give a small cough to draw his attention.

“Ahem… Ralfy? Uh are you sure this is ok? I’m not sure this is the right outfit for me?” You start shifting on your heels.

Smugly he opens his mouth to say something, then he looks up from his phone and his jaw drops. The words escape him with a gasp. His eyes rake over your figure drinking the sight of you in. In what feels like forever he looks at your face through his lashes.

“Sorry was distracted, what did you say cutie?” Rafayel gives you a cunning smile while tilting his head.

“Maybe I should take it off-” you go to turn around to the bathroom and feel yourself be tugged. You feel your back hit a chest and you look up to see Rafayel staring at you with a serious expression. As your big doe eyes look at him he groans and stuffs his face in your neck.

“Don’t take it off my muse, you look like a true masterpiece. One that I could never recreate.” You feel his hands start to trace your sides, from the bottom of your thighs up to your shoulders. Paying extra attention to every curve and crevice of your body.

“God and the scent you have on drives me wild-“ he cuts himself off by inhaling you deeply before letting out a groan. “I know you think you look bad but babe trust me you look ravishing, the way your hair sculpts your face and your eyes give off the most gorgeous hue, not to mention your lips.” He turns you to face him. His hand caresses your face. A hand firmly pulls you close to him as he plants a feverish kiss against your mouth. Like he’s depraved and hungry for you.

Rafayel was always passionate about everything he does, when inspiration strikes that is. When it came to you he always had inspiration. Always knew what to say to you always knew how to hold you even, if he was a big tease about it. With his kisses he always puts his 100 into it. All the words that elude him he puts into his kisses.

He pulls away only to breathe for a moment before leaving hungry pecks on your lips and jaw. “Maybe I should take that off of you, and show you how much I want you.” You can only whimper not being able to get a word out.

Your common sense tells you to push him away so you actually make it to Ms. Talia’s event on time for once, but the other part of you wants him to. It wants him to so bad. Your skin feels like his evol is crawling underneath it. You feel your back pushed against a cool surface.

“Raf- Rafayel please.” “What are you asking for cutie? Fishies like me don’t understand human gestures.” He taunts with a laugh. He goes back to leaving marks over your neck and shoulders.

“Please… T-Talia is waiting for us…” You barely manage to push out between pants. He grumbles something against your neck and huffs. “Rafayel we promised to be on time this time.” You give him pleading eyes and he caves. He steps back as a groan of annoyance comes from his puffy lips.

“Why did you have to go and make that promise babe, especially when you look so good.” He gives you a lovesick smile and squeezes your hips. “Then I’ll change so you aren’t so… distracted.” You look at him as his eyes scan over your freshly made bruises.

“Good luck with that cutie, I’m always distracted by you. No matter what you, especially when you aren’t wearing anything and you’re in my bed underneath- Oof.” You cut him off by throwing a nearby plush at him. You scream a few profanities at him and walk into the bathroom trying to hide your flushed expression.

“Yeah you do that a lot underneath me to- ow! Was that a toilet paper roll?!” He picks up his expensive toilet paper laughing.

“Next time it’s the whole toilet!” You slam the door and a howl of laughter comes from the other side of the door. You swear that lemurian was gonna be the death of you.

•————————————•—————————————•

Holy shit did not think I’d write again- but like THIS MAN HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD LIKE THE PURE FILTH IN MY MIND OF HIM IS IMMACULATE-

Ahem anyway maybe I’ll write more but this is a gift, very late valentines gift XD

[figgrrr0]

oh my lord, thinking abt kaveh who comes home and sees his beloved s/o in his oversized shirt and he suddenly gets so possessive at the sight and just rails you all while youre wearing only his shirt 😩 idk im just head over heels over this pretty man and him being dominant is just muah 👌🏻 ndjwndkskks bonus: i imagine kaveh losing it if it’s alhaitham’s shirt you’re wearing one day instead of his and all hell loose

I will admit rn that I know absolutely nothing about this man, but omggg... he's so gorgeous I can't–

This is longer than I planned but that just shows how much I love this idea. Ty for sharing 🩷

I've never done angst so pls ignore if it's clumsy

Jealous Kaveh

Reader: Bottom!Gn // Genre: Smut, angst

Cw: angst (he thinks you're cheating), rough/emotional sex, slight choking, slight degradation, it gets resolved I promise

Due to your recent antics, Kaveh is wholly unsurprised by what he finds when walking through the door to his room. You, leaning against the wall in a clearly provocative manner, clad in only a shirt so huge on you that the sleeves almost reach your mid thigh.

Rolling his eyes, but unable to hide the affectionate smile that breaks through, Kaveh makes his way over to you. His hand takes its usual place on your hip, though when he pulls you nearer, he can't help but notice that something feels... off. Different.

The odd feeling settles low in his stomach, making him feel almost nauseous, but he pushes it to the back of his mind quickly. He wouldn't want to push you away, especially not when you're looking this good, and obviously trying to rile him up – again.

Kaveh draws you into a kiss, then. It's slower than usual, passing for overly loving, when in reality, his mind is filing through the new information that has so rudely made itself welcome in his mind.

You smell like Al Haitham; or, more so – he notices as he leans down to kiss your neck – the shirt you're wearing does.

Ah, it all makes sense now.

He'd registered that something was out of place as soon as he'd seen you: the shirt itself was of a similar fashion as his own, so while he didn't immediately recognise it, it was a common enough fit that he wouldn't be surprised to see it in his closet. But, even so, the mischievous smile you'd failed so miserably to hide certainly gave away that you were hiding something.

Kaveh wasn't sure he wanted to know what that was.

With a frustrated groan, Kaveh pushes you against the wall, taking care to cushion the back of your head with his hand. He breaks the kiss then, looking deep into your eyes, and the intensity that swirls in his own makes you almost nervous.

He was angry. But, what made you really realise your mistake with this little prank, was the watery glaze of tears that covered his eyes.

Just as you're about to apologise, reach out your hand to encase his cheek in your loving warmth before the situation gets out of hand, he beats you to it.

His hand shoots up to encase your neck, cutting off your words as he presses his lips to yours once again, messy and unco-ordinated – nothing like the kisses you usually share. The barest hint of pressure against the sides of your throat coax you to gasp against him, grabbing onto his shoulders at the threat. But it's not needed, really. Kaveh can make you light-headed with a single look; so how's it going to be this time, when his control has already unravelled, just barely hanging on by a thread that's ready to snap?

Minutes go by like this. You, pressed to the wall and squirming beneath Kaveh's rough handling; and Kaveh, one hand roaming your body in a hurry, the other pinning your tongue down so that you can't try to explain, collecting your drool before it spills.

Finally having enough, Kaveh grips onto the collar of the shirt that drapes over your body, his hand tensing before it jerks with a quick movement– the offensive fabric falling to the floor in two pieces soon after. As if seeing and feeling it weren't enough, the distinct "Riiipp" that sounded far louder than it should have in your ears was certainly enough to glue you in to what Kaveh had just done.

You'd both be in trouble once Al Haitham found out. But first, you'd have to hope you can get through the wrath of your jealous boyfriend before even starting to worry about that.

Now that you'd separated, you could finally see the full effect of the situation in Kaveh's face and erratic actions. He's keeping you as close to him as possible while also keeping you pressed flat against the wall, the fingers that are coated with your spit coming down to press directly into your exposed hole. As impatient as he's feeling, his movements are still sound and practical, making you feel good and forcing moans from your mouth at how different than usual it all feels.

Even though you feel bad for making him feel this way (you really should have thought this through more beforehand), you can't help but enjoy the roughness of his actions. His fingers move fast and hard, scraping deliciously against your walls as they curl inside of you, coaxing you to open up for him. It leaves you clinging onto him to support your balance, your legs growing shaky from the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

But then, it's over far too quickly. Kaveh pulls away before you can reach your peak, hoisting you up until your legs are locked together behind his back. And then, with no other warning, he's pushing into you.

It's instantly overwhelming, the pace he sets from the start a complete 180 from what you're used to with him.

On any other night, you'd describe the sex between you and Kaveh to be making love. Gentle touches and whispered praises, kisses full of passion and reciprocated "I love you"s.

Tonight, he's gripping you hard enough to form bruises, harsh breaths being hissed against your skin, bites of desperation and broken "I love you"s. Except this time, his hand covers your mouth, forcing you to listen as he pours his heart out. Tonight, he's well and truly fucking you.

And it's all because he thinks he's losing you.

As much as you want to take him into your arms and wrap him into a hug so tight that he can't move, so that he has to listen to you as you explain about how stupid you'd been... you know there'd be no getting through to him as he is now.

Of course, if you'd truly wanted him to stop, if he was hurting you rather than sending bursts of white-hot pleasure coursing through your entire being with every rough thrust that smacks against your ass – then he would. As far gone as he is in his own mind, taking out his confusion and anger on you – Kaveh would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Even now, he's looking into your eyes every few moments, a silent check-in to make sure you still want this. To make sure you still want him.

He's high-strung on emotions, nerves running wild and caught up in the pleasure. The truth is, in this situation, the best thing to do is let him work through it however he needs.

...

A while passes like this, his hands glued to your hips, hard cock slamming as deep into you as possible. Eventually, Kaveh's mind finally starts to come back to him, as he takes in the utter mess he's made of you: eyes rolled back, mouth parted around the moans that are punched out of you with every push of his hips, and nails digging into his shoulders and slicing down to his chest when you're jostled too far.

He's slowing down his erratic thrusts then, worried it's too much for you, that he's overdone it. He's about to pull out, ready to take care of you so that you can have a proper conversation once you're both in the right headspace, when he's completely taken back by your response:

You slam yourself back down onto his cock, begging him not to stop and to be rougher.

And only then does Kaveh realise that this was your plan all along.

No longer is he worried about the security of your relationship or the validity of your feelings for him. You were just being a needy little whore, begging for attention and playing on his frustration with his room-mate.

Now, as he picks his thrusts back up to the blinding speed they'd been before, insults and degradation spills from his lips, mixed with the grounding kisses that you'd started to miss. Now, it was the perfect mix of gentle and rough, old and new.

And when the night is over, cum dripping from your hole, Kaveh will pick up the discarded shirt that got you into this mess in the first place, using it as a cloth to wipe up the sticky mess that drips down your thighs.

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷