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#sappy but you know what? i don't care
spaceratprodigy · 7 months
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🎉 [ Art from 2022-2023 ] 🎉
Happy Birthday to my most favorite person in the world, the love of my life 🖤
I still can't believe this'll make our 10th year of being best friends and even more I can't believe we get to celebrate our 8th anniversary this summer 💖💕
Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links
#I was gonna type out more but I decided I didn't want to be too sappy and emotional on main#so much has happened in these past 10 years#I can't believe I made it this far I really did not think I was going to have a future#but I did and I do#I have the most wonderful partner who I connect with in a way I never thought was possible#I am capable of being loved I am capable of loving in return#I learned how to love myself and be unapologetically myself for myself#I lost a lot of people and some very much for the better#I've become so so much happier my god I never thought I'd ever know what this felt like#I'm still angry and numb and having to battle depression but I've grown I've finally become someone worth being proud of#I'm no longer letting that anger and grief and everything that comes with it take over#I can't believe I've actually become gentler and kinder#I can't believe I've actually made genuine friends with people who are nice and caring and supportive#and are actually happy to see me and not trying to take advantage of me at every opportunity I'm finally seen as a person#I can't believe I'm finally in a safe environment I don't have to be terrified anymore I'm not going to be hurt anymore#I can't believe how far I've come creatively bc of how much bf has supported my every passion wholeheartedly#he is the reason I have a drawing tablet he is the one who encourages me and cheers on everything I do#god I still don't know how I could ever in my life thank you enough for every goddamn wonderful thing you do for me#you have changed everything for the better none of this would have ever happened if it wasn't for you#it's always been you#I fucking love you#more than anything in this universe and the next#forever and always#my art#glad I listened to my first tag lmao
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seelestia · 5 months
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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
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#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
★ 〜 masterlist.
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will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
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will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
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will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
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will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
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— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
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white-poppie · 7 months
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Tsukishima Kei believes subtle actions speak louder than words ⎯ especially in relationships.
To anyone Kei would seem aloof and cold, but you know that he cares from his little gestures. The way he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, that little relieved smile that makes way on his face when you drop by during his practice sometimes. Him mindlessly massaging your calves ⎯ your legs sprawled over his as he lets you watch whatever sappy romance you want watch when you whine about your day being so bad.
Tsukishima who freezes when you move closer on the couch and peck his cheek during the movie. His surprise slowly dissolves on his face, making way for a soft smirk as he turns his head and looks at you.
"Was that necessary?" he asks, his words almost accusatory, but his tone and expression is relaxed.
"Nope, but I'm trying to get you used to affection." you say softly.
He snorts at your words, “So, you’re planning to slowly brainwash me to become the ideal boyfriend? Or what?"
"I am trying to brainwash you into being utterly in love with me, the ideal girlfriend." you chuckle, rotating your pointer finger in front of his face. "Wish Woosh, Hocus Pocus. Tsukishima Kei will love me forever."
Although he tries keeps up his serious expression, but it turns more into a smile as a wide grin spreads across his face at your silly action.
"You actually want me to say it? That I love you?" He asks, "Is that what the game is?" he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in amusement.
"Maybe?" you whisper out softly and look at him with those hopeful eyes of yours that make him melt.
Tsukishima is silent, just looking at you calmly in a way that makes your heart raise with excitement and trepidation togther.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" you ask softly and he sighs, shaking his head, his eyes softening.
"Of course not, its just...I am not used to it?" He says and you listen to him intently, nodding, urging him to continue. "I just...I don't know, it makes me feel so vulnerable saying it." He utters.
"I just feel like what the point of saying it, when I already express it through other ways, you know?" he says, running his fingers through your hair, calmly. Thats how he loves you.
"I know. you murmur, "I just like hearing you say it." You hum with a pause, looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "You don't have to say it if you don't want to, its just that it makes it feel so much real when I hear it..."
Tsukishima smiles, lightly. Thats what he loves about you. You have these ways of making him feel utterly speechless and you do this so effortlessly.
"Okay." he says, his ears getting a tiny bit red. You want to point it out, but you bite your tongue to not ruin the moment.
"I love you." he says, his hand resting over your head and a you can't help the bright smile that makes its way on your face. Hearing it out of his mouth almost makes you flustered. You can't help but giggle and bury your face in his chest.
"I love you too."
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- FANFICTIONS  —HAIKYU!!
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imrllytootiredforthis · 3 months
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thinking about how there isn't enough on virgin!minho
like things get a little handsy and then you learn how sensitive he is... idk i just love subby whiny min but i haven't seen any inexperienced/virgin minho around :/
Made of Glass
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pairing: lee minho x reader
warnings: dom afab reader (no pronouns are mentioned, reader does have a hole but i don't think anything else - besides minho referring to the reader as a goddess once), sub virgin minho, lots of build-up, little bit of a handjob, grinding on his bare dick, penetrative sex ( r receiving, haven't written it in a long time so don't get mad if it's shit😻), fluffy build up (they're in love your honour), he says he hates you a lot (but he doesn't mean it cause we love subby tsundere boys)
word count: erm...about 4.6k
-- MINORS BEGONE --
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Minho wasn't ashamed of the fact that he was a virgin.
Untouched and "pure", undirtied by the hands of another some might even say. Specifically you, teasing him with light kisses and gentle touches.
And sure, he'd gotten to 2nd base in a high school relationship and older drunken mishaps but never anything more. Never as so far as to...feel certain things from another person.
Or from himself for that matter.
But no, wasn't ashamed that he was a virgin but he was maybe, perhaps, just a little bit embarrassed.
And he had absolutely zero idea how to breach the topic with you much less approach it.
You, who knew he was a virgin. Always so patient and careful with him.
Obviously, it should be expected that in the heat of the moment you stop when he freezes up or slows when he tenses up. But none of his previous partners had ever treated him so nicely, without getting angry or miffed off after at the very least.
They hadn't kissed his cheeks gently with a smile and conceded into a cuddle after it happened several times. They hadn't wrapped him up in their arms and turned on a movie, or delicately asked to talk about it after the fact.
You did though.
With no questions and no pressuring and no guilt-tripping. No anger.
He loved it. He loved you...as long as that had taken for him to come to terms with, with you and with himself.
He loved you.
And he was ready.
To...to, yeah.
And what better way than to just come out and say it? But that's embarrassing.
"I think I wanna...you know."
"Darling, sorry, can you speak up?" You looked up at him, yawning and setting your phone down on the coffee table.
He flushed and turned away, "um..." and he could feel every ounce of confidence in his body drain out of him like that.
Under your eyes, like this, you so attentive to listen to him. So nice, giving him your whole attention like he was the only thing that mattered.
You patted the couch next to you and he had no choice to sit down, falling into your arms like he was the missing piece to your puzzle.
He was quick to nuzzle his face into your throat, hiding against you. You just made him so nervous. Why did you make him so nervous still? After dating for this long, you shouldn't make him feel this way still.
Fluttery and gooey and nervous.
He'd say he hated it. The way you made his heart flutter...as sappy and love-drunk as that sounded.
He'd say he hated it when your hand cupped his cheek, turning him back to you. But he didn't hate it. Not one bit.
"I love you."
A grin split across your face, lighting up in that way you always did when he said those three words. No matter how many times he's said it, it would still drive you crazy like it was the first.
You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose gently. "Say it again for me darling? Just one more time, please?"
Now you were teasing him. But you couldn't help it. You loved teasing him so much. Loved fluttering kisses over his face and hearing him say those words again and again and again.
You didn't think you could ever get sick of it.
"Fuck you," He groaned but his tone with filled with anything but malice, making you laugh; letting him bury his head into your neck. "Fuck you for being so..."
"So what?" You challenged. "Hmm?"
His voice was muffled against your skin, barely legible, "So...insufferable." But he must like suffering then. "And intolerable." And he must have built up some tolerability, maybe because he was around you so much, indulging in you far too often.
You pulled his body against yours, leaning back to slot his body onto yours.
He was too eager to follow your lead.
To let himself be maneuvered so his hips were pressed against yours and your chest was aligned with his, so softly you moved him, so carefully you treated him.
He could feel your heart beating in time with his, fluttering and quick. He loved the feeling like he loved everything about you.
Fuck you for making him feel like this.
For the butterflies in his stomach. And the flush on his cheeks. And the hard-on between you and him, wishing desperately you wouldn't notice.
But of course you would.
You pulled his face from your neck, hands holding either side of his face, keeping him in place - like he'd want to be anywhere else.
"So I'm insufferable and you're...what?" Your lips pouted and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss them. To kiss you. Hard and fast and the way he needed.
He pretended to think but was only sidetracked by the feeling of your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, tracing his lips and following down to his jawline.
"Mmm, I'm...handsome. And, uh," he let out an embarrassing breathy sigh when you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth so softly he wouldn't be sure it was there if he hadn't watched you.
"And...?" You prompted, smiling coyly. You knew the effect you had on him.
You peppered kisses over his face, following where you'd touched him with your fingers seconds before. You nipped at his cheek and pulled away before he could properly reply.
"...pretty?" Though the words came out more as a question than anything else. "I mean-"
A giggle escaped your lips, "Hell yeah you are," you brush your nose against his, looking at him in a way so scarily intimate he has to look away first.
"Pretty..." you mutter, sighing. "Y'know, I think I can accept being insufferable and intolerable if you can accept being pretty," you whisper, guiding him back to you with a delicate kiss, finally to his lips. "And handsome," you murmur, smiling against him as he deepens the kiss, hands grasping at the fabric of your shirt.
You pull away with a small teasing smirk, "And beautiful, and gorgeous, and stunnin-mmph!"
His hands fist the fabric, pulling you in before you can continue with your stupid rant. Before you can focus on the way his heart pounds when you add on another praise.
You hum and recede into the motion, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth, sloppyily, in the way oddly reminiscent of the way horny teenagers kiss.
In a matter of seconds he's turned the kiss from sweet to something not-so-sweet.
Exactly what he wanted, and maybe he wouldn't even need to suffer through the awkwardness of asking.
Everything he put in was returned by you in the tenfold, one hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, the effects making you laugh against his lips. His form shivering into yours, full-bodied and obvious.
"Sensitive?" You pulled away, with a breath, mouth curling up. "It's okay, it's cute-mmph!"
He crashed his lips against yours again, effectively cutting off your words and your thoughts. Even if you continued to play with the nape of his neck, fingers teasing over the spot. The feeling only made him more and more desperate.
But if he was needy, you were nothing but eager to reply, deepening the kiss like you were trying to consume him whole.
"Darling," you mutter, too soft. "Minnie," you groan, holding him to you gently.
But you were too soft, too gentle.
He wanted more, he wanted you.
Unrestrained, doing what you wanted for once, using him like you wanted. Because he wanted it.
Wanted to not be treated like he was a piece of glass, in danger of breaking every moment. He loved how carefully you treated him but now he wanted to be treated rough, he needed to be treated rough.
But he didn't want to say it.
Slowly, he pressed his hips against yours, shuddering at the fizzle of friction sending sparks through his nerves.
"Minho," you sighed, nails scratching against his scalp making him whine. "Darling," with a particularly harsh nip to his lips, almost hard enough to break the skin - that was what he wanted.
A whimper built up in his throat only to be swallowed down. He wasn't that desperate yet. Even if every one of his movements seemed to argue otherwise, finding a clumsy rhythm in grinding against you, replicating and intensifying those sparks.
Building them up to what he hoped was more.
Even if the motions were clumsy and new. Curious but wanting all the same, the way he moved was raw, exploring and ruining. It made his head spin and everything else go foggy.
You dragged your mouth away from his, tugging his head up by his hair to lick your way down his neck.
A lick and an open-mouthed kiss, making him shudder and shake, heat emanating from the areas you touched and the places you pressed together.
Separated by stupid clothes but not enough to stop him.
He must look pathetic the way he thrusts against you, each discordant grind getting more desperate, more sloppy with the skim of your mouth. With the drag of your tongue down his jaw and pulse-point, heart thrumming beneath your lips. With every shockwave of euphoria that tingles down his spine, with every moan and whisper of his name that leaves your lips.
"Minho," "Minnie," "Baby," "Darling,"
His head is too fuzzy to worry about anything else. To think about the needy noises that leave him, he's sure he sounds lewd, and dirty.
From just dry-humping against you.
But it's not enough. He wants you rough and hard and on top of him. Showing him what to do, telling him what to do. To make him feel good, to make you feel good.
He falters imperceptibly. Should he...?
No, he doesn't want to. He can't. Because how is he supposed to ask you to-
He's caught up in his head but his body works on autopilot, reacting to the sensations that are bringing him closer and closer to cumming in his boxers.
Caught up in his thoughts but not so much so that he forgets about you,
and he certainly doesn't miss anything you say, like the words "Such a fucking good boy," nearly growled into his throat, voice husky and ragged as your teeth scrape down his skin.
Good boy?
He freezes. Heat pools deep inside of him, warm and making him painfully, painfully hard. The words push him nearly to the edge, and he can feel himself on the precipice of-
And then he's being shoved back, hard.
Harder than you meant to, but necessary for what you were about to do.
You pant, as does he, both of you flushed and trying to catch the breath stolen from your lungs.
No, no, not when he was finally getting somewhere, not when finally, finally he was getting what he wanted. Not when you were actually unrestrained and-
"I'm sorry."
His gaze snapped to yours.
"What?"
Your lips were red and parted, he was sure his weren't in much better shape. All he wanted to do was kiss them again, and again, and again.
He wants to hear you call him a good boy again.
"I-I'm sorry," you ran your hand through your hair. "I should've...I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry Minho." This time you were the one looking away.
"The fuck do you mean?" He snaps. It came out a little harsher than intended, he admits. But really, he was sitting here, horny and pent-up and just wanting to get fucked, and here you were, pushing him away and apologizing?
You blink, slowly, surprised.
And here he is, fuming.
Why won't you just fuck him?
"I'm sorry-" would you just stop saying that? His glare shuts you up. "Um," You only looked confused now, a furrow between your brow.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips. You watch it.
He wishes you'd just make the first move.
Because now he was going to have to say it. Out loud. To you. Not just mumble some nonsense and hope that you'd pick it up.
"I want you." He said simply, inching closer to you.
You nodded but made no move to continue anything. "Okay..." then a sigh. "I'm going to need you to elaborate just a little, Minho."
The flush across his cheeks spreads, down his neck and over his collarbone. Why did you have to look at him like that? Like he was made of glass or something? Like you cared about him so much it made him melt.
Fuck, he loved you.
"Look at me baby." You gently cup his face, turning him to meet your eyes. "You can tell me."
You definitely knew.
He could see it in your eyes, the worry giving way to a teasing look. Now you just wanted to humiliate him huh?
He hated you.
"Shut up."
You smiled, pulling him into your chest again, laying between your legs. Just like you were before. "Well that's not what good boys say, now is it?"
He pulled his face away, burying it into your shoulder to hide from your eyes. "I don't like you." His voice came out muffled into your shirt.
You only scoff out a laugh. "We both know that's not true darling. You love me." Voice dropping to a whisper, you lean into his ear. "Do I make you nervous baby?"
Someone just kill him now.
Put an end to his misery.
"N-no;" his voice still muffled in the fabric of his your shirt. "you're just-"
"Just what?" You challenge, fingers teasing into his hair, the way you know he likes it. "You're a big boy, you can use your words, can't you?"
He shudders and swears he can hear your smirk. "I...- fuck you."
You tug on his hair, making him face you. You swear he has a eye-contact problem. Or maybe he just gets too nervous looking you in the eye.
Either way, he's too adorable not to coo at.
"I was imagining this the either way around, but whatever rocks your boat~" you purr. "All you have to do is tell me what you want."
His hips jolt against yours, heat filling his body. As soon as he does though, your free hand stills his hips, fingertips teasing under the hem of his shirt while you look at him expectantly.
He wants to hide again, but you hold him in place. Pinning him against you, not letting him look away, not letting him move.
He wants you so bad.
"Touch me..." He mutters, and your hand slides just a bit higher on his abdomen, your thighs squeezing just a bit tighter around his hips.
It's over for him. He knows as soon as your lips turn up just a bit more into a coy smile. "Where?"
When he doesn't reply soon enough you skim your hand up and over his ribcage. Breathing growing heavy as your other leaves his hair, trailing down his neck and over his shoulder, slipping just beneath the collar of his shirt.
"Here?"
Such a simple touch makes him feel hot.
"Or here?"
Slowly, your hand under his shirt makes its path towards his chest.
He gasps lightly when your fingers tweak over his nipple, delighting in the way he quivers, rutting against you. You click your tongue at him. "You know, I really can't do anything to you until you tell me what you really want." Lips ghost over his ear, nipping lightly at the shell. "Too bad, really. I could take such good care of a cute little virgin like you~"
His voice cracks under the weight of your touch; trying to clear his throat while biting back a moan. "I'm not cute-"
You cut him off with a kiss, tentatively, like you hadn't stolen his breath with a kiss only minutes ago. Like you're afraid to break him.
But he wants you to break him.
The kiss is too short for his taste but it effectively cuts off his thought process, making him nearly dumb against you. Not dumb enough to not catch the smile against his skin, "I'm not cute." But he sounds so cute. It only makes the smile widen, turning your attention to trail kisses down his neck, murmuring between each press of your lips.
"Yes you are." Kiss.
And for some reason, he can't argue.
"Remember?" Kiss.
"I'm...what was it?" Smile, kiss, lick.
"Intolerable?" A pause, but only for a second, taking the moment to drag your tongue across his throat.
"And you're cute," Stopping to suck on the spot where his pulse thrums, feeling his heart beat under your lips.
"And pretty..." Kissing, once again, over the pretty mark you've left on his pale skin.
"And beautiful...and stunning...and..." you pull away, looking to see his eyes hooded and pupils blown. "...not getting anything more until you can tell me what exactly you want here."
You pinch his nipple one more time before pulling away, leaving him cold, whining, grinding desperately between your legs.
He's hard enough, you wonder if he would've cum in his pants if you hadn't stopped.
"I..." he starts and you wait patiently for him to continue. If you've learned anything about Minho, it's that he's nothing if not embarrassed to voice his wants. Especially the ones like this.
You remember how he blushed and couldn't stop wringing his hands when you worked him up to ask to kiss you for the first time.
The way he couldn't look you in the eye, focusing anywhere else.
But he knows by now, you're nothing if not a tease, willing to play the long game to get him to tell you what he wants.
Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
He's so hard though, it hurts. And his skin nearly burns with the need to be touched, to feel you on him again. And all he wants to do is let you have your way with him.
Something that won't happen until he tells you.
"Please," he whines. Though he knows it's not enough. He just wants you. "Please?" On him, touching him, teasing him, kissing him, consuming him. "I need it." pressing a sloppy kiss to your collarbones. "Just fuck me, I want you so, so bad." He pants, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Wanted you so bad, for forever now."
God, you can't wait to fuck him.
A grin blooms across your face, one that he can barely process. "Thought you'd never ask baby."
Not before you're pushing him onto his back, onto the soft cushions of the couch, switching your positions before crawling on top of him.
"M' gonna make you see stars baby." You purr, and he can do nothing else but nod dumbly, looking up at you with wide eyes like you're something of a goddess on top of him.
And you will make him see stars. Not yet anyway.
His vision goes hazy though as your hands quickly move to pull his shirt over his head, leaning down to kiss him again.
Deep and hard, filled with promises and care.
You lace your fingers with his against the couch cushions as you kiss down his jaw and down his neck and his chest and-
He gasps when you lick over his nipple, wrapping your lips around one to suck on it lightly.
Your tongue swirls around it, free hand tweaking at the other, making sure not to ignore it.
His cock is so hard, he can feel it throbbing in his sweats. He's sure he's already leaked through his underwear.
He swears he could cum from this alone.
"Don't!" He gasps and you pull away quickly, concern etched across your brow before you see his face clouded with pleasure, mouth hung open to let out breathy moans. "Please don't." He squeezes your hand in his. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."
You melt, filled with the overwhelming need to make him cum by just playing with his nipples. How cute he'd look from having his tits played with.
"So sensitive, aren't you?" You coo.
Maybe another day though. Right now, you'll give him what he wants. What he's wanted for 'forever'.
"Shut up," he scowls though it's quickly wiped away when you pinch his nipple one more time, making him gasp.
Finally, you glance down at his sweats, tenting with his boner. "Well someone's excited for me." Seeing you stare at his crotch makes him excited. His already hard cock twitching in his pants. "You're so sensitive for me, aren't you, Min?"
He hates you so much, covering his face with the back of his arm. The fact that you're only telling the truth makes him want to hide his face into your chest again.
But you're too far away, and too focused on watching his boner through his pants, fascinated by how hard you've made him with so little.
"Please," he whispers, but the way you watch him, eyes full of hunger makes him throb even more.
Somehow, he gets a kick out of you just watching him, softly moaning at his eagerness, as he lets out a hushed whisper, "Please. Please y/n, don't tease me like this. I'm already horny." His legs spread open shamelessly.
"Awe, why? Can you not handle it?" You look up at him, at his blushing face and his needy eyes. You wanna kiss him so bad.
And so you do, getting close to his lips, your warm breath tickling him. Your hand runs over his clothed cock, teasing your nails gently over the head of his dick. His eyes widen as you begin to touch him over the fabric.
But your lips quickly silence him as you kiss him again. He moans into it, the feeling of your hand on his cock, stroking him lightly and your lips on his.
Your tongue pushes through his lips as you stroke him a few more times, squeezing him lightly in a way that has his back arching off the bed, pushing into your hand even more.
Panting, you pull back a little. "Such a good boy for me, Minnie." Before you're pinning his hips to the couch and looking at him one more time for conformation.
Then you pull his sweats and boxers down in one swift movement.
And then he does see stars as you slide yourself over his hips, grinding against his bare cock.
He thinks he tells you he loves you, that he worships you, that he adores you more than anyone on this planet. He thinks his hand squeezes yours so hard that you bring it to your lips, kissing his hand and telling him to relax. He thinks you grind against him slow and gingerly, watching to see his reactions.
Like he'd ever tell you to stop.
He'd rather die.
Shoot him in the head if he ever tell you to stop, because it sure as hell isn't him.
Again, he thinks. But he isn't sure. He isn't sure of anything really right now.
His head is a mess of sensations and feelings, whines pouring from his mouth until you kiss him again and again and again.
Whispering that he's a good boy.
He's going to cum, he's going to cum.
Stars explode behind his eyes as they roll back and he isn't even inside of you yet.
And then you stop.
And he thinks tears might be rolling down his cheeks. He needs you, he needs you so fucking bad.
"Please, please, please." He pants, trying to roll his hips up against you, failing to find any contact as you sit back on your haunches, just out of his reach. "Need you," he gasps. "Need you so bad!"
You push sweaty hair out of his face, kissing the back of his hand one more time before you pull away entirely. He whimpers and you coo. "Be patient baby, just need to do something."
He watches blearily as you pull off your shorts and tries to calm his racing heart and heavy breaths as you roll a condom over his length.
"One more minute baby," you hush as you kiss him. "Are you ready?"
He nods desperately, of course he is. He's waiting for this for so long. He's wanted you for so long. He's going to go insane if you don't-
He gasps.
You groan as you slide down his length, slowly burying him inside of you until he bottoms out.
If he though grinding was intense, this was like nothing he could've ever imagined. His mouth gapes open, an endless stream of whiney moans and needy whimpers flooding into the room, feeding into you as you lift up and sink onto his again, groans of your own mixing with his.
He can't think anymore - he doesn't want to. He only wants to fall into the feeling of your walls squeezing around his dick, warm and wet as you ride him and the feeling of your hand once again finding his.
Whispering into his ear that you love him so much as you turn his head into mush
"I…I can-" Minho tries his best to talk, to tell you how good he feels. He really does, but whenever the thought comes to mind, it just gets cut off with the liquid heat coursing through his veins.
By the intense feeling of everything that is you.
He's an idiot for not asking you to fuck him sooner.
"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle breathlessly when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?" You bring your interlaced fingers to your lower abdomen, "You feel it?"
All he can do is respond with a loud sob as he nods his head to your question, hips bucking up into you, desperate to chase the high quickly approaching ever since you've touched him.
He's not going to last much longer.
"You fit so well inside me," you murmur.
He's going to cum. Of this, he's sure.
"Please!' He hiccups, but he's not sure what he's pleading for. "P-please!" For more? For less? For something - anything to stave off the inevitable, he doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want it to ever end.
You kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw. You flutter kisses over his face, so softly compared to how you're fucking him into the couch so roughly.
"I love you, Minho."
"I love you so much!" He pants and squeezes your hand, his other grabbing onto the nape of your neck as he shoves your lips against his.
He's fucking beautiful, you think. Cute and pretty and beautiful, under you, falling apart.
It's the most gorgeous sight you've ever seen, and he's whining your own name against you lips, pleading between sloppy kisses for you to let him cum, to let him cum for you. 
You show your approval with a collision of lips and teeth and tongue as he tips over the edge and you follow suit. He sobs as he cums, shivering violently as waves of pleasure roll over his body, his back lifting into an arch, pushing himself deep into you with a followed whine.
Each moan and whine are muffled by your tongue pushing into his mouth but his hips still grind as he pushes himself into overstimulation, whining until you have mind enough to still his hips.
For a moment, the two of you are silent, chests heaving, both catching your breath as you pull away, looking at him.
"Minho?" His eyes are shut and his cheeks are painted red. "You okay baby?"
He murmurs something you don't catch, but you don't tease as you push the hair out of his face, sweat-soaked and tired, kissing his forehead once.
You make a move to get up off of him but he only wraps his arms around you, holding you in place. "Don't leave," he whispers, looking up at you with tired eyes. "Just stay, please. For a little bit?"
His sleepy eyes make your heart skip a beat. "Who are you and where's my Minho?" You tease softly, but give in nonetheless.
"Fuck you." But his tone is with filled with anything but malice, as he nuzzles into you like a happy cat.
"I just did." You giggle.
"I love you so much." He mutters, kissing your shoulder. "I love you so fucking much."
"And I love you too."
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a/n: I did it ^-^, who's proud of me!! also haven't written reader being penetrated in a looooong time, so if it's shit, oh well :p
pls leave feedback, i need motivation to finish my other teaser fics😭
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UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.
1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.
2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.
So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.
Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.
He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.
Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.
Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.
I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.
He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.
I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.
OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.
Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world
PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox
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veritasangel · 2 months
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⋆ 。⋆ any pov (petnames 'angel/love') ୨୧˚ warning: nsfw content {mdni}
↣ cockwarming with simon, this is kinda just word vomit so i apologise {wc: 477}
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He loves it so much, gets to be as close to you as physically possible, literally nestled right inside you, just basking in the intimate moment without expecting more.
You’re sat on the sofa together and every once in a while, he absently runs a hand through your hair, a small smile playing on his lips. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of your breath hitching whenever he moves slightly.
He holds your hips to stop you moving, "Stay still," he says, his voice gruff as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. “Sshh love, let’s just stay like this- don't get whiney with me, okay?” 
And you do as you’re told, feeling him twitch inside you, yet he makes no move to thrust. You both remain like this, connected, for what feels like hours.
He talks to you about everything, tells you how much he loves you, how he’d do everything and anything for you, he tells you about his day, about his work.
He even tells you about his darkest fears. For Simon, it’s just an intimate hug, a place where he feels safe, completely enveloped by you. The two of you have a therapy session almost, he voices his emotions and you comfort him, you talk him through it.
He clings to you like you’re his lifeline, he’s just so unbelievably grateful for you. The two of you smile and laugh and kiss. You caress his face and he does the same, he peppers kisses across your cheeks and even recites his vows again because when you're cockwarming him, he gets sappy.
He closes his eyes, savouring the feeling of you surrounding him, taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent, absorbing your warmth. He loves this, loves the simple intimacy of being inside you without the urgency of sex.
It’s home.
You’re his home and he hopes you know it with how often he tells you. 
His voice is soft, filled with tenderness as he speaks, "I adore you with everything that I am."
You smile as your eyes meet his, and he moves his hips slightly to earn a small whimper from you. Laughs a little as you playfully nudge him, “Sorry- I told you not to move, but here I am getting tempted.” he teases.
And you just have to kiss him to wipe the smug grin off his face, legs wrapping tighter around him as he kisses you back. Hands softly begin to explore one another as he smiles into the kiss, nibbling slightly on your lower lip as you laugh, only pulling away to tell him you love him.
“And I love you too, angel. More than you’ll ever know.” he whispers, his eyes gazing into yours lovingly, expressing all of the love and care he’s unable to voice.
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༄ cod m.list ༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it
© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴
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dearaceofhearts · 5 months
Text
you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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tinycoffeeroom · 5 months
Text
just friends | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
part 2 !
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📍 sass cafe, monaco
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👤 bffstagram, landonorris liked by bffstagram, landonorris and 59,203 others
y/nstagram dj lando came out of retirement for the night🤠
landonorris 😎 only for you xx ↳ y/nstagram i'm honoured mr norris 🫡 ↳ fan i love my besties who don't know they're my besties
bffstagram bro my tummy hurts ↳ y/nstagram i'm coming round with coffee and croissants you big baby ↳ bffstagram i love my gf ♥️ y/nstagram
fan i wanna party with y/nlando so BAD dude ↳ y/nstagram if you ever find yourself in monaco hmu xx
user ew flipping off the camera so ladylike ↳ y/nstagram idk your mum quite likes my fingers 🫶 ↳ fan ☠️☠️☠️ i love her
fan bffstagram is so hot, i need her ↳ bffstagram thank u babycakes 💗
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liked by bffstagram, lilymhe and 69,928 others
y/nstagram rainy days in monaco 🌧️
lilymhe i deserve financial compensation for the emotional turmoil tfios sent me through ↳ y/nstagram don't,,, sat and sobbed my eyes out at the last 100 pages
fan how to lose a guy in 10 days... tfios... who hurt you y/n? ↳ y/nstagram hahahah nothing like that! i promise i'm all good!
bffstagram i still have a headache from crying at that book, next time i choose what we're reading for book club ↳ y/nstagram BORINGGGGG who doesn't love doomed romance? ↳ fan you guys have a book club? thats so cute 😭 ↳ y/nstagram yep! it's me, bff, kika, lily and flavy!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux and no one thought to invite me?? ↳ y/nstagram come join us babe!! ❤️
landonorris wow, didn't take you for a sappy romance reader ↳ y/nstagram there's a lot you don't know about me comment deleted ↳ y/nstagram tfios can make even the iciest bitch cry (it's me, i'm the icy bitch)
landonorris also answer ur damn texts ↳ y/nstagram sorry idk how to read suddenly ↳ fan The Lando Norris gets aired, there's hope for the rest of the bitchless community ↳ landonorris dude...
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liked by fan, fan and 103,028 others
f1gossip Eagle eyed Sass Cafe goers managed to capture Lando Norris getting cosy with an unknown blonde girl. Rumoured girlfriend Y/N L/N was nowhere to be seen. Trouble in paradise for the young duo?
fan delete this rn y'all are fucking up my y/nlando chances
fan rumoured girlfriend?? i thought they were just friends ↳ fan that's what they both say, but they're always very close whenever they've been seen out together ↳ fan i'm pretty sure there was like a super grainy photo of them kissing but you can't really tell if it's either of them ↳ fan hey how about we don't speculate on people's love lives???
fan y/n has been absent from social media for like a month too ... its so over for us y/nlando'ers
fan her instagram is girlstagram! from what i could see before she went private, she posted a selfie of her and lando and they looked very close ↳ fan damn the fbi needs to hire you or smth
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liked by bffstagram, estebanocon and 65,928 others
y/nstagram thuggin it out (i've listened to your best american girl 34 times today i think bffstagram is about to smother me with a pillow)
fan um who hurt my bestie ???
fan whoever hurt y/n must die at the hand of my sword
fan lando norris i am in your walls FIX THIS
bffstagram i would never smother you xx also come out of ur room it is boring as FUCK out here ↳ y/nstagram damn cant a girl go through it in peace? ↳ bffstagram absolutely not, i have wine and nibbles get out here NEOOWWW or i'm breaking into ur room ↳ y/nstagram the door is open babygirl
fan ik this is a parasocial friendship but are you ok y/n? ☹️ we love you ↳ y/nstagram oh sweetie ❤️ i'll be fine, sometimes you just gotta be a lil sad y'know? thank you for asking, ily ❤️ ↳ fan ily, take care of yourself 🥺 ♥️ y/nstagram
estebanocon chérie, i don't know what's wrong but i hope you're ok! lets grab coffee soon, flavy misses you! ☺️ ↳ y/nstagram thank u este 🫶🥺 text me when you're free! tell flavy i love her 💗 ↳ flavy.barla i love you too 💕 ♥️ y/nstagram
fan no lando like, i have one (1) fear ↳ fan do not even speak that into the universe
fan after f1gossips post, i have my speculations ↳ fan dude, if he fumbled y/n he really will be lando nowins
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liked by flavy.barla, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others
y/npriv absolutely not thuggin it out lads
flavy.barla chouchou (sweetheart) 💔 that's it, me and este are taking you out for lunch tomorrow ↳ y/nstagram nooo don't let me ruin your date time!! ↳ flavy.barla nope it's already done! este's booked that little restaurant you like on pl. du casino ↳ y/nstagram le salon rose?? oh i could do a little weep, i love you guys 😭 ↳ flavy.barla we love you so so much y/n 💕
lilymhe i will hit him with my golf clubs ↳ y/nstagram i haven't even mentioned anyone? ↳ lilymhe we all know their name rhymes with bando borris ↳ y/nstagram wdym we all know? who else knows? ↳ flavy.barla ... me ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ francisca.c.gomes ^ ↳ lilynzeimer ^ ↳ heidiberger_ ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ iamrebeccad ^ ↳ y/nstagram ok ok i get it damn
kellypiquet want me to ask max to rear end him with his race car? ↳ y/nstagram as if max would ever be behind lando ↳ kellypiquet 😳😳😳 ↳ y/nstagram i may l*ve him but i am also a realist ↳ y/nstagram ok no i do feel bad
y/nstagram uploaded to their story
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[caption 1: love of my life, apple of my eye, the thelma to my louise 💖 @/flavy.barla] [caption 2: damn stole my girl from right in front of me 😔 @/estebanocon @/flavy.barla]
seen by landonorris, flavy.barla and 67,394 others
flavy.barla mon ange (my angel), you know you're the only one for me 💕 ↳ y/nstagram tell that to your giant of a boyfriend :(
estebanocon i'm not a giant 😠 ↳ y/nstagram stop reading flavy's messages weirdo ↳ y/nstagram but on a real note, thank you for dinner, i really needed it ↳ estebanocon of course, i'm not sure what lando's done but we hate seeing you so sad ↳ y/nstagram who said it had anything to do with lando? ↳ estebanocon whenever me and flavy have an argument she pulls out the mitski lyrics, i know the signs ↳ y/nstagram that's different, you and flavy are dating ↳ estebanocon and you and lando aren't???? ↳ y/nstagram what? no? we're just friends ↳ estebanocon oh mon amie naïve (my naive friend) friends don't look at each other the way the two of you do
landonorris can we talk? seen
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anyone interested in a part 2?
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alastorss · 7 months
Note
Could you maybe write something with Alastor and reader,
and reader gets hurt in the extermination and he cares for her? And maybe like she takes a nap on his lap and he just sorta falls asleep right next to her?
a/n: hello!! i sort of got carried away with this one and made it more sappy than i originally intended, but i hope you still like it! for context: the reader stepped into battle when alastor was hurt by adam and this is the aftermath :) hurt/comfort and fluff!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Alastor has been eerily quiet since returning to the newly-rebuilt hotel, sutures and bandages in hand.
All his belongings, including his beloved cane, have been cast aside in lieu of medical supplies to be split between you. One measly box worth of gauze and sanitizing wipes. Definitely nothing to gawk at, but good enough.
He's stripped his shirt without any exchange of words. You know his silent request, too prideful to ask for your help verbally but desperation clear in his expression.
"Is this the only spot?" You ask, slowly stringing a suture through his skin. He hisses in pain—his only response. The demon doesn't even gratify you with his eyes anymore, opting to stare off into space as if his mind has taken a vacation elsewhere.
You frown but continue delicately stitching him, piecing him together until he's whole again. His back hits the dresser as he leans on it, body instinctively trying to crawl away from the stinging of the needle. Finally, you knot the end of the sutures and sigh in relief, reaching over to get something to clean the area.
"I'm glad this whole fiasco is over," you comment softly, knowing it won't make him look at you. "With their leader gone, maybe the angels will finally—"
"You disobeyed me," he suddenly snaps. "Why?"
You pause in your movements, blinking up at Alastor while he glowers at you. His eyes narrow into slits, half out of anger and half in a grimace.
"You were cornered. I couldn't just sit by and—"
"I told you to stay out of it," he interrupts again, slapping away your hand. You gasp, alcohol wipe hitting the floor beside you. Defiantly, you challenge him with a glare of your own.
"I'm trying to help, asshole!"
"I know, I know!" He explodes, obviously frustrated. "And look where it got you!"
He pinches your chin to tilt your head up toward him, rotating your face around so he can observe your wounds. A cut lip, a bruising eye—horrible reminders that sinners could be hurt. And you were no more of a sinner than he, much less an Overlord who knew the shape of a soul.
"You risked your life by intervening! What if you had been struck down, you fool?"
Alastor's voice is all panic and no composure, missing any semblance of that accent which is so beloved to him. You know he's telling you exactly what he feels, true emotions unburdened by the character he built for himself in the afterlife.
"So be it! It's no less a fate than what would have happened to you!" You emphasize by jabbing your finger just above his wounded abdomen, careful not to agitate his fresh stitches.
Wincing, he goes silent. It's unnerving how quiet it is again. You've gotten so used to the ambient buzz of his static, but with it missing, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck pricking up in unease.
He still hasn't released your face, clawed fingers pinching your chin and holding you in place. It isn't until he feels the wetness of your tears pooling at the pads of his fingers that he recoils in surprise.
Sighing, he twists over to open new packs of wipes. You stay still while he carefully cleans your face, ignoring your little whelps of pain the best he can.
Once the blood is gone, he pauses. Then, his fingers gingerly wipe under your eyes, swiping away the globs of tears spilling down your cheeks.
You are pitiful right now, he thinks. Though he probably looks no better.
"I'm sorry," you hiccup. "I don't mean to make you worry."
His expression softens, though his viscous smile remains. You can see it in his eyes—something genuine buried beneath his act.
"I don't want you to die," you admit quietly.
"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear."
You laugh dryly, wiping up your tears on your own with your bloodied sleeves.
"But you almost did. What would I do without you?"
The question is rhetorical, but something vile still swirls violently in your stomach at the idea. As if knowing what's going through your mind, he grabs you by the cheeks and forces you to meet his stare again.
"Not another word out of you," he demands.
His gaze flicks to the bruising under your eye, flesh already discoloured and swelling. "Got a remedy?" You grumble.
Alastor shakes his head but leans in anyway, pressing a chaste kiss just below the swelling. His lips linger on your skin for a moment before he pulls away, amused by your stunned expression.
He invades your space again, this time kissing the crown of your head. Speaking into your hair, he whispers, "I will be more careful. I promise."
"And I'll think before charging into battle after you," you chuckle softly, overwhelmed by his warmth.
Slowly, he tugs you along and sits you on the sofa. He brushes the hair from your eye and takes the opportunity to look at it under better lighting. Just like that, he vanishes, melting into the shadows. When he reappears in front of you, he has cold packs. In a place so warm, they are of little use. But they are better than nothing, he supposes.
Groaning in pain, he seats himself beside you and allows you to slot under his arm. Two demons seeking comfort and companionship curled up together—any other Overlord would laugh.
But Alastor knows what it means to be loved, to have someone who would stand in front of a lethal blow for him, to be stitched back together by your hands.
In the safety of each others' presence, you both fall asleep with the faint hum of static filling the air.
~
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shadesoflsk · 6 months
Text
THE OLD WAY
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pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader
summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.
warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.
word count: 4k
author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)
MY MASTERLIST
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City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.
That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.
With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.
Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 
But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.
Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 
So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 
“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 
You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 
He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 
He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 
However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.
And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 
For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.
Oh.
Oh…
The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 
He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.
However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 
On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 
He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.
He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 
Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.
“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.
“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 
“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”
He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 
“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 
The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.
“You think so?” 
“Absolutely.”
Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.
“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”
Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 
“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.
“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 
Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 
“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.
“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.
-
Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.
Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 
“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 
“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 
And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.
When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 
“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 
“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 
For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 
A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.
For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.
He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.
Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.
Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.
“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”
And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.
“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”
His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.
“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 
“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 
Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.
And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 
As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.
Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 
He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 
“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 
A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.
You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.
Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.
At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 
“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 
At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 
For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 
You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 
“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 
“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”
He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 
“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.
In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 
“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 
“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.
He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.
“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 
“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 
And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 
“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”
And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.
“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.
“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”
Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.
“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 
“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 
Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 
It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 
He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 
“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 
He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.
“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 
His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.
“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”
Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.
And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.
“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.
The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 
You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 
After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 
Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.
“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 
“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”
“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.
With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 
“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 
“More than okay.” 
He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.
“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.
“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”
“Shut up, Leon.”
You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.
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💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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signedkoko · 7 months
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Signed with Love - Overlords & Sins
What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤
Characters - Asmodeus | Beelzebub | Carmilla | Mammon | Rosie | Valentino | Velvette | Vox | Zestial
Series Parts Hazbin Cast - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!
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Dear to the dearest,
You've always got me running myself sappy, but I'd like to offer my hand to you this valentines.
You know how popular Ozzie's is on Valentines, so how about a nice spot for brunch and then we pick a song to perform together tonight? Just you and I on stage, surrounded by people who wish they had what we do~
Eagerly awaiting your reply,
Prince of Lust, and yours forever;
Asmodeus
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Heya lovely!
I'm so fucking excited to be spending valentines with you this year, and I don't say it enough so here it is in writing!
Normally I throw a party but I don't know, I kinda rocked with the galentines dinner you suggested, I'm thinking we invite some of our closest and have a hell of a good night, yeah?
You're the only party that matters,
Your Queenie Bee🐝
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Mi vida,
I think it's about time we get away from work and the girls, how about we take valentines off?
I've always wanted to show you some of the places I used to frequent, since you always ask it only seems fair. I'm sure you'll adore the cuisine, I miss it dearly.
I'll help you get ready before we leave,
C. Carmine
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Sup hottie!
How about we ditch my valentines show and leave it to the performers to take care of shit? I much rather be with ya anyways.
Anything you want, just tell me. I'll take care of everything from there babe.
Love ya more than you know,
MAMMON
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Sweetest darling,
I reckon its about time I follow my own advice and pursue the one I love this valentines.
We can take a break from everything and go sight seeing! I don't get away from the town much, but everything you tell me sounds exquisite. We can go somewhere with a nice tune and I can really show you how I used to swing!
What do you say?
Your Rosie
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Querida cariño,
Theres no reason for me to ask what I already know, and I don't want to hear another valentines joke about my name.
I know work has kept me busy babe, but this Valentines its just you and I. We can laze around all you want or you can drag me wherever, I'll make sure we get in.
Like a moth to a flame, eh?
Val.
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Heya gorgeous,
Ive got two outfits in our sizes that could use a little test drive around town this valentines.
Already booked the photographer, so I hope you'll come model with me for my end february magazine, yeah? If you do a good job we can do dinner and drinks after, though you've never disappointed me, dolly!
You know I love you, always have & will
Velvette
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Hope you're doing well, angel
You always joke that I can't write for shit so heres proof. In fact, I'm here to ask you to be my valentine.
I already know its a yes anyway, so how about I let you in on the itinerary? I got breakfast at the local spot booked with live music, an afternoon just the two of us, and for dinner I have our main reservation and a backup in case you don't like it.
Romantic or what?
Owner & CEO of VoxTek, Beloved valentine of you, Vox
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Greetings,
Tis with great pleasure that thou is still by thine side after such an overwhelming year.
We must beg thou has considered indulging such an old soul in an evening of romance. Perhaps thou would dare to consider looking upon their bed, for there lays a gift.
Yours affectionately and forevermore,
Z
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Authors Note - Who are you expecting a letter from? Who will you accept? I'd love to know! Heres to another part of the valentine sseries 🖤
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peachsukii · 7 months
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Bakugo hates Valentine's Day, but hates seeing you give everyone else one more during senior year. 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 
"Happy Valentine's Day, Izu!" you cheer as your latching your arms around him for a hug. Izuku picks you up, spinning you around and sets you down gently.
Katsuki rolls his eyes at the sight. He knows you two are best friends. He knows you're also one of his best friends. Why's he so bothered about a damn hug?
"You too, y/n! Here, I got you a card." Izuku shuffles through his bag and turns back to hand you an All Might themed valentine with a piece of your favorite chocolate.
"Thank you! That's so sweet of you. Here, I got you one, too!" You say as you hand him a mini-pack of mochi and a Mount Lady themed valentine.
Returning to your backpack, you unload all the valentine's you prepared onto your desk. Katsuki turns his head up with a shocked expression, judging the pile of sweets and cards you've prepared.
"Damn, couldn't pick just one valentine?" He snarks, turning toward you in his seat and crossing his arms. Deep down, he hated that you had one for everyone when he wanted you to only care about him. But that's stupid, he knows how nice you are and love everyone in class.
"Just because you hate V-day doesn't mean everyone else does, Kat. I made one for everyone." You say as you resume organizing the valentine's on your desk.
Katsuki huffs and turns back to the window, hiding his disappointment. He would never vocalize that he wanted something from you - he's not some lovesick puppy.
Your desk is empty after making your rounds in the class, hand delivering all of the cards you made to each person. The only person who you didn't give one to?
Katsuki.
Once he realizes that you don't have any more, and he's still empty handed, he storms over to you.
"Hallway, now," Katsuki demands, grabbing you by the wrist and interrupting your conversation with Ochaco. You wave to her and mouth 'sorry!' in her direction as you're leaving the classroom.
"What the hell, y/n? Are you singlin' me out?" He growls, clearly upset by your exclusion. You sigh, knowing that this was exactly how this was gonna go.
"No, Kat. I didn't want to give you yours in front of everyone else."
He lets out a 'hah?' in confusion.
"I snuck it into your room before class. I know you don't care for all of that sappy shit, so I didn't want to put you on the spot," you explain, hands on your hips. "You think I'd forget your ass?"
Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed that he assumed the worst of you. He doesn't say anything.
"It's whatever. Happy Valentine's Day, Katsuki."
After classes finish for the day, Katsuki books it back to his dorm room. He smacks the door open to see a card, little box, and some snacks on his bed. The box had a little mabo-tofu character keychain alongside a bag of his favorite spicy chips. The valentine was All Might themed, not surprising, but had a short little message on the back:
To Kat, you're dyna-might to me. :) ♡ y/n
He smiles to himself, placing the valentine on his dresser and popping open the bag of chips. Suddenly, his phone buzzes in his pocket from an incoming text message. It's a picture of flowers on the desk of your dorm room. "aw kat, this is so damn sweet. thank you! i love them. ♡"
"sure. don't think i don't pay attention when you tell me shit."
Turns out he never needed to be jealous in the first place.
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faithfulren · 4 months
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surprise gift
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in a quiet evening at the dorm, katsuki bakugo surprises you with a thoughtful, handmade gift.
----
it was a quiet evening, and the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. you were lounging in the dorm, a comfortable silence enveloping you. katsuki bakugo, your boyfriend, had been unusually secretive lately, often disappearing for hours on end. you had no idea what he was up to, but you trusted him.
you were reading a book when you heard the door creak open. katsuki stepped into the room, his hands behind his back, a nervous yet determined look on his face. "hey, got a minute?" he asked, his voice a bit gruffer than usual.
you closed your book, curiosity piqued. "of course, what's up?"
he took a deep breath, stepping closer. "I made something for you," he said, his eyes avoiding yours as he brought his hands forward, revealing a small, intricately crafted wooden box. the craftsmanship was impeccable, with delicate carvings of your favorite flowers and a tiny heart subtly engraved on the lid.
your eyes widened in surprise and admiration. "katsuki, this is beautiful.. you made this..?"
he nodded, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "yeah, took me a while, but.. i wanted to make something special for you. open it."
with trembling hands, you lifted the lid of the box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet nestled inside. the bracelet had a single charm in the shape of a small explosion, a nod to katsuki's quirk, and a tiny heart next to it. it was simple yet perfect, a symbol of his strength and his affection for you.
tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you looked at him. "katsuki, this is… I don't even know what to say. it's perfect. thank you."
he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional display but also relieved that you liked it. "yeah, well, don't get all sappy on me now. just wanted you to have something that shows how much you mean to me."
you stood up and closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tender kiss. he responded immediately, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer. the kiss was soft and sweet, filled with the unspoken words of love and appreciation.
when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your heart swelling with love. "i love it, katsuki. and i love you."
he smirked, his confidence returning. "damn right you do. and i love you too, more than anything."
you spent the rest of the evening together, the bracelet glimmering on your wrist as a constant reminder of his thoughtfulness and love. katsuki's tough exterior might be intimidating to others, but you knew the soft, caring heart that lay beneath, and you cherished every moment you shared with him.
--
as the night grew darker and you both settled into bed, katsuki pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. you sighed contentedly, feeling safe and loved in his embrace. the handmade gift was more than just a bracelet, it was a testament to his love, a promise of his dedication, and a symbol of the special bond you shared.
and as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but feel incredibly grateful for the surprise gift and the man who had given it to you.
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casuallyanidiot · 8 days
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Yandere manager who was never gonna let you get famous.
Nsfw for this one! MDNI!
Warning for noncon/dubcon!
Yandere manager who holds a high position in a prestigious entertainment company. He works with so many prolific stars, so he's surprised that your pitiful little portfolio ever even made it to his desk. You've got no experience, no connections, and you're not exactly industry standard in terms of beauty.
Yandere manager thinks it's kind of funny that a cute little thing like you thinks they can make it in such a cutthroat industry. he's kinda curious about what you're like though, so he calls you in for an interview. He can't help his large, sleazy grin that forms on his face when you sit there in his office stuttering through an introduction.
Sure he'll hire you, but you've gotta get on your knees.
Yandere manager feels a sick thrill run up his spine as he goes over contract details while your pretty little lips are spread around his cock. Your eyes are filled with tears, and he can feel your little whines and sobs vibrate in the back of your throat, and he groans. He has to admit it, you've got that special something about you that certainly has him captivated.
"Looks like we've got ourselves a deal, sweetie," He grunts out playfully and signs his name as he forces your head down further and came down your throat.
Yandere Manager who only books you for enough gigs for you to justify staying with him. He makes you fuck him whenever he asks, and whenever you want an actual job, you have to do something more extreme to get it. A modeling gig? Yeah sure babe. You've just got to dress super slutty and let him take you in the middle of a crowded club.
Yandere Manager who rails you violently whenever he catches you trying to network. He bets you think you're so smart and clever for chatting up some pervy, old director to get a spot in a music video. Does he not give you enough? You don't need all that attention unless he's giving it to you. You don't even know how many people are gonna wanna bury themselves in that tight little hole of yours, how many people would take advantage of you. At least with him, you knew what you were getting.
You're fucked so thoroughly, and Yandere manager loves watching you stumble around after he's stuffed you full of cum. He's started making you wear plugs afterwards just so he can watch the discomfort on your face as he takes you out shopping or for meals.
Yandere manager starts to feel a bit fond of you in not just a carnal way. As much as he loves seeing your cute little asshole twitch and stretch around the toys he pushes in you, he also likes seeing you smile, hearing you laugh. He likes the way your eyes light up when he allows you to do a photo shoot. He starts liking the way you shudder and squeal when you orgasm, too.
He's not a sappy guy by any means. Really, he sucks. Even he knows that, but maybe now that you've got his initials tattooed on your plump, well spanked ass cheeks, he can start making you like him too.
He's gross, and he knows it. But he loves fucking you so much he can't find it in himself to care. I mean you're not going to get away when he's got you coming back to him with the promise of success that he's never ever gonna let you have. Not for the risk of his favorite, cute little fucktoy leaving him.
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feyascorner · 8 months
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i'm not saying i dont understand why larian stops us from romancing astarion if we don't sleep w him in act 1, but i'm saying i want to romance astarion without sleeping with him in act 1.
can you imagine the sheer confusion of this man when you reject his advances not once, but twice? he pulls out all the big guns too, showering you with flattery and flirtatious comments every hour of the day, but you're not having any of it.
"we barely know each other," is your automatic answer when he approaches you at the camp celebration.
"must we know one another's ins and out's before truly getting to know what we have to offer? what our bodies have to offer?" he grins, but it only makes your face fall.
you go to bed that night straight after the party, and he just stares at the back of your head from his own bedroll, utterly appalled at what just happened.
he decides that perhaps you genuinely don't find him attractive, so he begins to hatch another plan to seduce some other poor fool in the camp, but he constantly finds his eyes drifting to you anyway. even as he puts up with wyll's all too noble chatter in hopes that he'll provide the protection astarion seeked from you, his red eyes are looking past the warlock's head and to you.
oh shit, he thinks. there's something very very off here.
from the transition between act 1 and 2, he's basically in denial about his feelings. but when your party officially reach moonrise towers, he honestly just accepts his fate and that you won't reciprocate his feelings, especially after how strongly he advanced on you a few weeks ago. he's surely scared you off.
but when you defend him in front of that foul drow at moonrise, he thinks that you almost sound like you care for him.
it's a small flicker of hope, and he decides to blurt out his words at camp---admittedly less gracefully than he'd hoped--and when you accept his proposal to be something more, he's back to be confused again.
"what? why?--" he stops himself. "--I mean, I know why, but why?"
He's supposed to be the experienced one in relationships, but he's reduced to a blubbering fool when it comes to you.
I know it'd be an extremely long wait if the game finally lets you sleep with him after you defeat Cazador, but I think it'd be so gratifying? spending hundreds of hours just getting to know this silly guy and realizing hey, he's not so bad! and him realizing that love can come without all the physical aspects of it. or ofc maybe there's the very real possibility I'm just a sappy romantic idk...
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pix-writes · 23 days
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Stanley Pines relationship HCs
(stan pines x reader), I hc Stanley to be dyslexic, yet another bit of writing about old guys getting to be freaky so 18+ below!
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tho surprisingly fluffy at times, I just think this guy needs a good hug.
At first I think Stan would flirt with that rather brash confidence of his pick up artist/con man persona with you in the beginning, espeically turns to joking if you are choosing to riff/banter (whatever you want to call it) in response to his cheeky remarks. He likes to know he's met his match with a person who's not afraid to put him in his place!
But when he actually knows he's falling for someone then I think he would actually be more reserved, shy even, though it's not always outwardly obvious. If you are (or he thinks you are) talking to/got the hots for someone else he'll be even more withdrawn and gruff with you than he is usually.
I think that it's likely you get together after a series of awkward and/or funny scenarios/converations, like "What are you waiting for a kiss on the cheek?" "Yes, actually." "Can it, smartass!" ... ... "WAIT... What?!" "What?!!" 😳 type deal. Mabel has probably also caught on and is trying to put you in matchmaking situations.
Whilst both the stans are protective over their partners, Stanley is the more... possessive one, mostly in a good way: he wants to provide for you so that you're taken care of, he may not have much but he wants to know that you have less to worry about than him. Does NOT share, can enjoy showing you off and people looking but they can't touch!
He's lives a mostly independent life, so I can see him getting with someone equally (or more) independent and whilst that can reduce some of his worries, cause he knows you can look after yourself, he also still worries! 😅 and he wants to feel needed by a partner, so you might need to let him take the lead or do things/roles in your shared life for you, even if its just something mundane. Like, if you're shorter than him, he will do petty things like putting stuff out of your reach so you have to ask for his help (even if you try to do it for yourself will reach for it before you... Will also put a hand on your ass when he does it 😂).
Realises (subconsciously at least) that you help releive some of the burdens off of him as well. That said, definitely let him do everything for you when you go on dates (after the first one, where you put up a virtuous protest about paying for yourself), he's an old fashioned, almost-chivalric romantic at heart. He'd never admit to being sappy though and states that its simply 'the way to do things' or 'I'm just taking care of my girl'.
The rest of the Pines family realises when he's serious about you because that's when he won't spare on gifts for you. They don't have to be (and probably won't be) super expensive, he'll pick you up little things as well, a wilty bunch of discounted flowers from the store happens to appear sporadically yet often in the mystery shack, saying something a little flirty about how you can make them perk up (the sap!), and you can roll your eyes or quip back at him all you want but he sees how much you appreicate them, which makes up for the times he can be a bit more careless or in a grumpy mood.
Underneath all that confident persona is quite a bit of insecurity, that's not to say that all of his confidence is false, but he definitley has some old self worth/belief issues. Will often wonder what you're doing 'with an old man like him' (no matter if you're the same age or what) especially in the beginning of the relationship. The good thing is that he's susceptible to your compliments ;) and he's often stunned that someone he finds so beautiful is with him and will tell you at the most random times that he's a 'lucky guy' or that he's 'hit the jackpot', like you can be in bed in the rattiest stained t shirt, hair in rags, face mask on, haven't brushed your teeth, doing a crossword puzzle in bed, whatever, and he'll say something along those lines or about how beautiful you are to which you can either a) think he's joking and laugh/say something witty in return, or b) say "what even when I'm (insert something seen as unattractive here)?" Please know that he is SO serious when he says this.
The downside is that whilst stan has made leaps and bounds of improvements to taking care of himself, espeically when he knew the twins were coming for the summer and post-weirdmageddon (since he doesn't have to worry about the portal anymore), he still has a lot of filthy habits! He can be lazy and want to be in comfy clothes rather than a suit all the time, sure, that's fine, but what can really drive a partner crazy is the nail clippings on the floor or the hair clogged up drains in the bathroom and not cleaning up after himself properly! He honestly shouldn't be surprised that this is one of the things you can argue about regularly, old married couple style (he's been divorced enough times to learn this before and yet here you are! ^^')
Stanley Pines is Stubborn with a capital S and so there's some things he's not willing to change, but there will be some things he knows are important to you that he'll try to make progress towards, he'll also go towards taking even more care of himself in different ways, too, since he wants to spend the best amount of time that he can with you and his family.
Keeps photos of you dipper and mabel in his wallet. Considers the twins, wendy and Soos the kids you never had, so he's gotten over all the 'what could've beens' that used to make him sad before.
Will teach you some good boxing moves and punches for sure, even if you do know how to defend yourself. And takes you fishing and will teach you a bunch of practical things, if you ask him to show you he'll be over the moon!
Will preen so much when you praise him or acknowledge his achievements, actually was holding back tears when you said you were proud of him for getting his qualifications (after he spent so long without a HS degree/equivalent). Through working on the portal is SO smart, an equally skilled sailor and navigator etc etc as Ford, may not have the same methods of working stuff out as his brother but acutally knows a lot of disparate things, engineering, mechanics, physics, fishing, wierd loopholes in laws in different states and so on! Once weirdmageddon and the loss of memory has passed, Ford is genuinely touched by Stan's knowledge - a reminder of what he went through to get him back - as well as thrilled to speak to him on subjects that he never expected to share with his twin.
If he was asked whether he's a tits or ass man, he would say both, but honestly, he really loves thighs, I think he has a big attraction to curvy women in particular, but he would love his partner no matter what size/shape/gender (he's definitely bi, just more leaning towards hetero on the kinsey scale in my mind).
Stan is a menace when it comes to teasing, he's made an art form out of riling you up, loves when you get feisty with him. If you're bratty and push his buttons though, he'll give you time to run 🫠 will he give you a fair countdown or skip some of it? Depends on how generous he's feeling, so you better not stick around! Game for getting a little freaky, has a pair of handcuffs for this very reason, likes to be in charge but wouldn't mind being 'arrested' if it's by you 😉 (you can depend upon it that he knows how to escape them at any time though).
Total goof when he's relaxed, it's like being with a best friend, just be willing to get roasted on occasion (lovingly). You both watch ducktective and period dramas together, though he'll swear he's not into the latter - until he starts a running commentary on the plot.
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