#so many vows...they make you swear and swear
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drewskitten · 2 days ago
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⋆。˚୨ getting asked on a date ୧˚。⋆.
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You weren’t supposed to meet Drew Starkey.
Well, not in the way you did, at least - not in Madelyn’s kitchen, balancing a glass of cheap sauvignon blanc on your forearm and trying not to look like you’d just sprinted from your car because you were late. Again.
“I’m not kidding, if you ghost on this dinner I swear I’ll block your number,” Madelyn had texted an hour ago. “And you’ll never get your damn Tupperware back.”
So, naturally, you show up - winded, hair slightly wild, phone dead - and stumble into her Hollywood bungalow. What you weren’t expecting was the six-foot-something tornado of denim and charm leaning against her fridge.
You almost drop your wine when you see him.
Madelyn clocks your reaction immediately. “Oh, this is Drew - Drew, this is her.”
He quirks a brow. “Her?”
Madelyn grins wickedly. “She knows what that means.”
You clear your throat, playing it cool even though your palms are suddenly sweaty and your heart is doing that annoying little flutter. “That sounds way more mysterious than it needs to be.”
Drew grins, hand extended. “Mysterious’s kind of my thing.”
You shake it - firm, warm, a lot rougher than you expected. God, you think, he’s got hands like a man who can ruin you in five minutes flat.
“Drew’s crashing for a while,” Madelyn says, already turning back to the stove. “Between places.”
And just like that, he’s in your orbit.
 𓃹
The night goes down easy - wine, pasta, way too many inappropriate jokes - and you find yourself sitting on the back porch next to him, a blanket shared between you, maddie's fire pit flickering in the dark.
“Madelyn wasn’t kidding,” he says, glancing at you over the rim of his beer. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”
You raise a brow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Oh, it’s not,” Drew drawls. “Just…dangerous.”
You grin. “I’m not dangerous. I’m delightful.”
“I think you’re trouble.”
“Only if you ask nicely.”
He chokes on his beer. You smirk into your wine. Check fucking mate.
 𓃹
After that, it’s casual texts. Memes. Tiktok streaks. Flirty jabs. The occasional FaceTime when he’s bored or on set, which turns into late-night talks that stretch too long.
He learns how you like your coffee. You learn that he sleeps shirtless, hates tomatoes, and has a laugh that could quite literally make a nun reconsider her vows.
You flirt, sure - but it always stops short. Neither of you calls it what it is.
Until one night.
 𓃹
Madelyn’s hosting another 'event' - lowkey this time, just a few people. You were halfway through a gin and tonic when you feel Drew behind you, his voice low in your ear.
“Come outside with me.”
You turn to him with a laugh. “Why? So you can compliment my outfit in private?”
He gives you a lazy smile. “If I start, I won’t stop.”
You blink. That was bolder than usual.
Still, you follow him.
He leans against her fence, arms crossed, eyes on you like he’s figuring out how to say something he’s never said before.
You fidget with your sleeve. “Okay, what’s with the brooding stare? You about to monologue or something?”
He laughs, eyes warm. “Not a monologue. Just a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you wanna go out with me?”
You freeze. “Oh like…a date?”
He nods. “Yeah. Like a real one. Where I pick you up. And pay for your food. And kiss you at the end if I don’t screw it up.”
“I- ”
“Unless you’d rather keep texting me emojis and pretending we’re not into each other,” he adds with a grin.
You recover quickly. “Who says I’m into you?”
“Oh, come on. You flirt like it’s your job.”
You take a step forward, emboldened. “And if I say yes?”
His grin softens. “Then I’m yours for the night.”
Your mouth curves. “Only the night?”
“Let’s start there,” he says. “See where it goes.”
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yanderes-galore · 3 days ago
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Robb Stark vs Jon snow concept x reader who maybe has a dog that gets along with Grey Wind and Ghost? :3
Really hate how they don't have a ton of interaction in the books or the show, so here's an AU where you grew up alongside them in Winterfell and they didn't leave until adults. For plot. Even then this was still surprisingly difficult to write.
Yandere! Robb Stark vs Jon Snow
(Karstark! Darling)
Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive/Protective behavior, Jealousy, Swearing, Sibling rivalry, Illegitimate heir issues, Stalking, Blood, Murder, Trauma, Imprisonment, Some parts are implied to be female oriented if you squint?, Dubious relationship(s)
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Imagine being a Karstark who often visits the Starks.
Since you were young you've often met with the Stark children.
For which there were many.
However, two of them were the ones you often played with.
Robb, the eldest son, and Jon, the bastard of the family.
Your father, as a Karstark, often worked with the Starks due to how closely linked your families are.
Which often meant you saw the two boys in Winterfell.
You often tried to play with them when you were really young.
The boys naturally seemed to get along with you, your father encouraging you to play nice.
When you became a teen, your father had presented you with a hound to take care of.
Your hound was meant to protect you in the harsh winters and be a companion when you got lonely.
You often brought your hound with you on visits to Winterfell.
Of course, all the Stark children ended up getting dire wolves as pets around this time too.
You were so ecstatic to see your two best friends have puppies too, the two men amused with how giddy you were to watch the hounds play.
Sure, your dog was more domesticated than the wolves...
But the three creatures seemed to play nice just like you did with their owners.
You had always gotten along with the two eldest Stark men.
Their wolves even seemed to enjoy you too, Ghost and Grey Wind never seeming to leave you three alone.
Yet the wolves were usually occupied by your own hound.
In terms of how both of the Stark men acted around you...
Robb is more serious, being the eldest of the Starks.
He's charming with you, probably even having an interest in you since you were young.
He acts like a gentleman, often wanting to walk around Winterfell with you and be a good influence on you.
Part of him hopes to even impress your father... Originally just to be a good friend.
Yet something more later on.
Jon's the more reserved one, often brooding or distant whenever Robb steals your attention.
He originally thinks he doesn't deserve your attention... Robb's true born, after all.
Yet what Jon always liked about you was the fact you never judged him for his Snow name.
You still treated him as a friend, playing with him and Ghost... a smile on your face that he adores....
Jon has always vowed to protect you, uncaring of his nature as a bastard.
Even his 'mother' often ignored Jon, in favor of Robb more.
You make Jon feel cared for and needed... his beloved childhood friend....
However, both men seem to have similar interests in their childhood companion.
Which leads to some intense sibling rivalry.
I have a feeling what makes this rivalry intense is the fact Jon is a bastard.
Rob's the eldest son and legitimate, which means he has more claim in everything.
Property, power, who he marries...
Robb, if his mother and your father would allow it, may allow you to marry.
Jon, on the other hand, struggles to have his claim supported since he feels wanted by no one but you.
Robb, especially when he and Jon are young, may also rub it in.
Robb proudly says he knows what his heart wants, that when he's older, you two will marry and take over Winterfell.
Jon often disagrees, saying Robb gets enough as the eldest son.
For once Jon wants to be loved, to care for someone... You're the only one Jon wants.
So why does Robb want to claim you too?
Robb, in response to this, usually fires back that Jon can't be with a Karstark like you.
Your name is too important, so unless Jon is legitimized, politically your safest match would be with Robb.
Safe to say, even as young teens, these two nearly get into physical altercations in the snow often.
When they were younger, their father had to end up prying them away, scolding his young sons.
Even their wolves end up showing their interest.
While both aren't fully experienced in being wargs... Their wolves follow you and your dog... or even get into altercations sometimes.
But around you? The two try to get along.
After all, they both have a crush on you, but you're unaware.
They've been like this for years once puberty hit, both young men showing interest in their Karstark companion.
Your father probably knew... but never confirmed any matches between you and the Stark sons.
Originally their interest comes out when they're playing with you.
They always make one out to be a villain, the other a swordsman or knight meant to escort you.
They swap the role around, determined to see how you react.
Yet any actual attempts at courting would happen when you're all older.
You still come to Winterfell when you come, your hound by your side.
You are quite fond of both your Stark admirers, yet you try not to entertain anything.
Your father may want you to marry someone else... but the Starks do have good choices.
Both men no doubt try to impress your father when he takes you to Winterfell for business.
Considering how both men might be leaving Winterfell... They want to try and claim your heart now.
Robb knows he has to go off for war against the Lannisters, especially when it's said his father was executed.
But before that, the eldest Stark son hopes to take you as his lover.
Robb's giving you winter flowers, complimenting your looks, offering to take you on walks...
He's vowing to your father that he'll take good care of you, that he'd protect you from everything.
Even better if you're a Karstark... Robb may be side by side with you when your father leaves with Robb if he's lucky.
Jon, on the other hand, is telling your father you'd be much safer at Winterfell.
I imagine in this alternate telling of events Jon wouldn't go to the Night Watch right off.
He wants to see if he has a chance with you first... and if he does, how far he can push it.
But it isn't meant to be... yet....
Robb may want a family with you... Jon doesn't, not unless he can have your hand in marriage.
Both Northern men are quite passionate with you, their childhood companion and shared crush.
Even their wolves yearn for attention, pestering your own hound or you.
You have no clue this is them subconsciously showing their emotions through their dire wolf.
Anything past this is a bit hard to write.
I say this because their stories are so different and they're miles away from one another.
Robb, while off fighting, could speak with your father about your hand in marriage.
Robb definitely takes advantage of the fact Jon joined the Watch.
He knows Jon is meant to be sworn to celibacy and is far from here... So Robb may make attempts to win you over.
He's the best choice anyways, isn't he?
Jon still likes to be hopeful... Even in the Watch he still thinks of you, his first love.
In terms of who I think would win this rivalry...? If you want to go with canon... It's Jon.
Perhaps things start with you and Robb.
He doesn't manage to win over the marriage proposal, but that's fine....
Robb still manages to convince you to explore with him in secret.
His mother probably knows but says nothing, she always knew her sons adored the Karstark that seems just as wild as a wolf pup at times.
Robb knows politically he has to marry someone else for access to the bridge... But his heart was always for you.
For a long time you're with Robb while Jon matures at the Wall.
Honestly... It becomes less a rivalry once they're away... and more like you being passed to the other?
Robb is possessive just like Grey Wind who's always at his side.
He always keeps an eye on you, even through his wolf.
It's actually a bit amusing to see him so distracted when your own hound plays with Grey Wind, Robb himself unable to focus due to being in a playful mood.
You're no warg... but he takes out his playful behavior on you by keeping you close.
You start by having secret relations with Robb due to being the closest with him emotionally and physically.
It's a nice and passionate secret relationship... that is tragically put down by the time of the Red Wedding.
You're not left with much after escaping such a relationship.
Your father died due to treason, your lover assassinated, which forces you to flee the aftermath of the Red Wedding with blood on your hands.
You don't meet Jon again until way later... The young bastard who struggled to tell you goodbye now known as 'Lord Snow' and gathering forces.
He never forgot you, he just knew you'd probably be happier with Robb....
But by the time he sees you again, shaking with a beyond troubled look in your eyes...
Jon wishes he stayed at Winterfell and convinced your father to leave you with him... even if he was a bastard...
Jon hears everything from your lips.
How you used to belong to Robb... How you witnessed the death of everyone you both cared about... How you had to crawl away with blood staining your furs.
It... shocks Jon... makes the man filled with rage, actually.
Jon wanted you to himself, yes...
But he isn't sure if this is the way he wished for it to happen.
Jon hides his possessive nature, noticing the only companion you've had since the death of his brother has been your dog.
Said dog just as weary as you, Ghost quietly licking them with a whine.
Jon is caring with you for days, taking care of you in secret as he lets you have a shoulder to cry upon.
He doesn't care about his oath at this point... He's broken so many morals at this point.
He has mixed feelings on the death of Robb.
On one hand, he's glad he has you for himself now... on the other...
He doesn't like seeing you so sad.
Jon's the last one you end up with, be it book or show canon.
He manages to make you comfortable enough to confide in him... Maybe even encouraging you to allow him to be your man.
It's manipulative, yes, but you agree since he really is all you have now....
That's fine with him... To Jon, far as he knows, you're all he has too.
Jon is overprotective and possessive similar to his brother... Except you don't see it as anything all that bad this time.
You're both affected by loss, loss that might've been prevented by better choices.
Jon vows to never leave you alone again, he regrets not staying in Winterfell to care for you...
Bastard or not, Jon wanted to be a man for you....
Sure, he can do it now... but you've lost too much.
But... that's okay... He'll make sure it's okay....
He'll make sure you never lose anything ever again.
He doesn't care if he needs to lock you away from danger... or bloody his blade even more than it already is....
The rivalry is gone now... Jon has you now...
Nothing's going to take you away from him again...
Possibly not even death will quell the draconic burn he feels in his heart for you... just like when he was young.
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bighitfics · 11 months ago
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jungkook fics i can read all night all day seven days a week.
(a recommendation you didn’t know you needed) ₊⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
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Vows Of Betrayal ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook
��� contract marriage au, enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst.
(I will never not scream about this! this is my current favourite read! the enemies to lovers really hits in this one! AND THE SMUT SCENES ARE SO GOOD THEY MADE ME PREGNANT SO I RECOMMEND!) 😩💳
Inevitable ౨ৎ by @ahundredtimesover
— exes to lovers, second chance, parents au, angst.
(this happens to be the cutest story I’ve ever read, the longing and angst is so good!) 🥺🫶🏼
Dextrocardia ౨ৎ by @jeonstudios
— enemies to lovers, fake marriage, cop au, angst.
(this story should be arrested for being so damn good! i love how intense the enemies phase is before they start softening towards each other, the way the author managed to portray the patriarchal issues through this story is incredible, i never thought i’d say this but im an anti of jungkook in this story 😤😡 he better apologise with crocodile tears otherwise he can say goodbye to y/n.
You’re Still Mine ౨ৎ by @wattpadauthour
— workaholic husband jungkook, marriage in trouble trope, second chance.
(THIS STORY IS GONNA BE MY FOREVER FAVOURITE FOR A LONG LONG TIME! NO MATTER HOW MANY STORIES I READ I WILL ALWAYS GO BACK TO RE-READ! LIKE READ IT RIGHTAWAY IF YOU HAVENT! 😤)
Four-Seven-Eight ౨ৎ by @jiminrings
— marriage in crisis, angst, more angst, fluff.
(the heartache you’re gonna feel while reading this is no joke, i really felt sad for the y/n here (and cried a river) AND I LOVE IT WHEN BOOKS MAKE ME CRY LIKE THE WORLD IS ENDING TOMMOROW 😻💋 you know its gonna be worth it)
Time After Time ౨ৎ by @hiseyestell
— doctor au, she fell first but he fell harder (but much later), fluff.
(by far the most realistic fanfic I’ve read, jungkook is so cold that you wanna smack him in his stupid head, the female oc is so smitten with him its adorable but sad at the same time) ☹️
His Clumsy Secretary ౨ৎ by @hwangguemfictions
— grumpy x sunshine, he fell first and harder, office romance, major angst.
(this fanfic is criminally good! especially the bgm, the dialogues, the way he’s just so endeared with her, this is a big smash!) 🤰🏻🫦
The Deepest Marks Of Essence ౨ৎ by @lleldey
— tribe leader jungkook, yandere au, smut, angst.
(my favourite writer for a reason! 🫴🏼 i can never stop obsessing over yer unique storylines and writing, she’s my new favourite tbh and this story will convince you as well) 🤭💕
Marrying The Vicount ౨ৎ by @taevjim
— rich man x poor girl, regency era au, smut, filthy fluff.
(my two worlds colliding fr! this author wrote it so beautifully 😍🤌🏻 jungkook as a vicount tho (im already crying between my legs) this is like a fever dream come true, this is so effing good that i think no words are fair enough, maybe you should take a look yourself! (i swear this is worth the read!!!!)
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dollishmehrayan · 7 months ago
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# “I’M GONNA MARRY HER ANYWAY” ── .✦ ( how batboys marry you and propose to you )
a/n: this is a request by anon (here) but literally this is making me feel like ultra single on a spectrum, anyways I love these type of requests because I like some simple stuff like this ya know? Tags: (batboys x fem!reader)
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DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
The Proposal: The stars are twinkling above as Dick stands beside you on a rooftop he transformed into a wonderland of fairy lights and soft music. “You’ve given me so many reasons to smile, and now I want to give you one more,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion as he gets down on one knee. His eyes are so full of love you feel like you could drown in them. When you say yes, he lifts you into his arms and spins you around, whispering, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life loving you.” (He’s such a mediocre man proposing 😭🌚 h/j)
The Ceremony: Dick watches you walk down the aisle, completely captivated, like he’s seeing the sun rise for the first time. His vows are filled with tender promises: “From the moment I met you, my heart knew it had found its home. You are my partner, my best friend, and the love of my life. I promise to stand by your side, to laugh with you, to cry with you, and to love you endlessly.” By the time he finishes, his voice cracks, and tears stream down his face. (You swear he cried like 6x times that day.)
Married Life: Every day with Dick is a celebration of love. He leaves you little notes that say, “You’re my greatest adventure” and brings you flowers just because. He holds your face in his hands like you’re the most precious thing in the world, telling you, “I fall more in love with you every single day.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
The Proposal: Jason plans something quiet, but the depth of his love shines through. Sitting on the couch together after dinner, he pulls out a small velvet box and says, “I’m not great at speeches, and I’ve never been the guy who gets things right the first time. But I know I got this right. You’re my home, my peace, and my everything. Marry me?” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable, and when he sees your tears, he gently wipes them away and says, “I’d spend my whole life making you happy.”
The Ceremony: Jason’s vows are raw and honest: “I’ve lived a life that didn’t always make sense, but you—you’re my clarity. You make me want to be better, to deserve the love you so freely give me. I promise to protect your heart, to cherish you every day, and to never stop fighting for us.” His hand shakes as he slides the ring onto your finger, but the love in his eyes steadies him.
Married Life: Jason doesn’t just love you—he adores you. He’ll randomly pull you into his lap just to hold you, resting his forehead against yours as he whispers, “You have no idea how lucky I feel to have you.” On lazy mornings, he cooks breakfast for you, insisting, “You’re too good for me, but I’m keeping you anyway.”
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
The Proposal: Tim’s proposal is a masterpiece of thoughtfulness. He plans an entire day filled with your favorite things—a visit to your favorite bookstore, dinner at the place you’ve been wanting to try, and finally, a quiet moment in a park under the stars. “I’ve spent so much of my life searching,” he says, taking your hands in his. “But with you, I’ve found everything I’ll ever need. Will you marry me?” His hands are shaking, but his voice is steady, full of hope and love.
The Ceremony: Tim looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. His vows are deeply personal: “You are my greatest discovery, the love I didn’t know I was looking for. I promise to love you with the same care and dedication I’ve put into everything I’ve ever valued—because nothing will ever mean as much to me as you do.” He kisses your hand after slipping the ring on, his eyes misty with tears.
Married Life: Tim’s love is gentle but constant. He checks in on you throughout the day with texts like, “How’s my favorite person?” and stays up late just to watch movies with you. On nights when he’s overwhelmed, he pulls you close and whispers, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
The Proposal: Bruce’s proposal is understated but breathtaking. In a quiet corner of Wayne Manor, with a fire crackling in the background, he kneels before you. “ I’m not exactly good with words but…..I’ve faced many things in my life, but nothing has been as terrifying—or as wonderful—as loving you. You’ve changed me in ways I didn’t know were possible. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” His voice is steady, but his eyes are full of emotion. (He kinda proposes the same he did with Andrea Beaumont poor guy gets a bit of flashbacks 😭😭)
The Ceremony: Bruce’s vows are simple but deeply moving: “In my darkest moments, you were my light. In my loneliest nights, you were my solace. I vow to be your partner, your protector, and your greatest love for as long as I live.” His hands linger on yours during the ring exchange, as if he can’t believe you’re real.
Married Life: Bruce loves quietly but fiercely. He kisses your forehead every morning and holds your hand under the table during dinners. On difficult days, he pulls you into his arms and whispers, “You’re my everything. I couldn’t do this without you.”
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hxney-lemcn · 1 year ago
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I Love You~ — NRC Students x gn! reader
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summary: How Twisted Wonderland boys react to you saying "I love you."
tw: stalking (Rook), slight angst for some, mainly fluff.
a/n: this is the most I've written for for so many characters. I hope I did them well, I even wrote for characters I'm not confident in. Also, I swear they don't all just say I love you too back, Heartslabyul boys are just too sweet not not (for the most part).
wc: 4.5k (~200 each character)
Master List
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Your feelings had been building up over time. It got to the point that it felt like all your feelings were bubbling over. It was only sooner or later that the depth of your love was going to spill. You only hoped that it wouldn’t scare him away.
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❥ Riddle Rosehearts
It wasn’t the first time you said those damn words that sent his heart into cardiac arrest. ‘Love you,’ You would chime playfully as he seemed near to scolding you for something or another. He hated to admit how effective those words were on him, it didn’t help how you said it so casually. Yet this time was different, your tone being nothing but soft, your eyes nothing but warm…he wasn’t prepared for this. Avoiding your loving gaze, Riddle could feel his brain melt, his tongue felt like lead, and his heart was beating erratically. When your gaze turned worried, shying away the longer he stayed silent, he somehow gathered the courage to respond.
“I-I love you too.”
❥ Trey Clover
It was no secret how much you both cared for each other. You both seemed like a married couple to the other students. You never really needed to say anything out loud because your love was shown through actions, the way you both smiled at each other, and how the other was always on the mind. Yet hearing you say those words out loud shocked him. What shocked him even more was how much he longed to hear you say it again, and again, and again. It didn’t take long for him to regain his composure, smile brightening as he didn’t even hesitate to respond.
“I love you too~”
❥ Cater Diamond
He always hid behind a smile and a flash of his camera. People would say his care for you only ran skin deep, but you knew otherwise. You had managed to wiggle your way through Cater’s walls and that scared him, but it also brought a sense of relief. His compliments towards you were genuine, showing you just how much his fans loved you (an extension of his own love). He’d always say he loved you playfully, sending a wink your way making you nearly combust…and you’d respond in kind (unknowingly doing the same to him). So when you said those three simple words, your tired eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into his blankets, he felt like he was going to puke. He felt like a complete coward that he could only reply back after you had fallen asleep, vowing to show you just how much he cared the next day.
“I love you more than you know.”
❥ Deuce Spades
We all know that Deuce isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, yet you found that endearing. The way he showed his care for you was so obvious it was hard to ignore. How he clearly favored you over Ace, sending threatening glares to any student who dares to look at you the wrong way. You had never felt safer than when you were with Deuce, so you’d try to reciprocate…yet he always seemed to outshine you in your made up care competition. Yet you quickly found his weakness after he shied away after you hugged him once. So when he did something so endearingly silly, it was only natural for those three words to slip…rip Deuce. He stammered, face blazing red as he tried to wrap around what you said, trying to untangle any hidden meanings. Bashfully, he couldn’t meet your eyes as he responded.
“I…love you too.”
❥ Ace Trappola
This menace. He flexes all the time, claiming how you must love him with the way you follow him like a puppy. Yeah…he makes it hard sometimes. So out of spite you’d go to Deuce, causing Ace to sulk. It was in those moments that you realized he was lowkey (highkey) projecting his feelings onto you. It helped you deal with his unabashed praise for himself. You found yourself teasing Ace back, poking him and irritating him (he did find it annoying but he’d rather your attention be on him then anyone else). He’d show off during his games, always looking towards you and making him a clumsy mess on the court. When you finally muttered how you felt (somewhat bitterly) Ace felt his brain shut down for a second before quickly rebooting, a shaky smirk on his face with bright red cheeks as he replied. 
“Of course you do! Who wouldn’t- OW! Okay, okay, I l-like you too I guess.”
(bro couldn’t even say love you back 💀)
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❥ Leona Kingscholar
To anyone who didn’t know him, they’d think he was indifferent to you, if not annoyed by you. Yet to your and Ruggie’s keen eyes it was easy to see his affection for you crack through his impervious exterior. How he’d drag you with him for his constant naps, how he’d let you play with his hair, and how he’d glare at anyone who seemed to get a little too friendly with you. Leona didn’t like being vulnerable, after all, showing your belly meant submission and death. So when you said those three words he’d dreamt of you saying, how lovingly you were staring at him as you fiddled with one of his braids, he felt his scowl worsen at the fluttery feeling in his chest. His green eyes glanced away, his face softening back into a neutral expression.
“I better be the only one you say that to, herbivore.”
❥ Ruggie Bucchi
He’s another one that people can’t tell if he likes you or is using you. Whenever you were seen with him you were helping him with chores (in reality you only helped him so you both could relax together afterwards). It was clear how much you cared for him, bringing him snacks, helping him with chores, offering to pay for his meals (rip your already bare wallet). In return, he’d share with you. A feat that no one had ever seen him do before. Ruggie never felt guilty for taking/getting food…that was until you never seemed annoyed by how much he took from you. So he felt it was only fair if you had some too…you did pay for it after all. He found his tail wagging when you smiled at him, hugging him, or even when you ruffled his hair. So when you said that! Those words he never expected to be uttered from your lips, let alone aimed at him, his tail just couldn’t stop moving! No matter how composed he seemed, it was like his brain was on fire (insert that spongebob clip).
“Shishishi, I suppose I might feel the same…the price for that information is the other half of your donut. Shishi.”
❥ Jack Howl
This guy. Definition of tsundere. Acts like he wants nothing to do with you while sticking by your side for as long as he can. The nice thing is that he helps you become more healthy. He never forces you, but you feel more inclined to join him in his ‘morning’ jogs (his morning jog is way too early for you so it's technically his second jog of the day and he calls it his wind down jog). Everyone can tell how he feels for you, it's clear in the way his eyes are always searching for your comfort, how he steps in when someone gets too pushy, or when his tail sways when all your attention is on him. Another guy you feel super safe with. The two of you were studying when you said it, atmosphere warm. Jack’s ear twitched, unsure if he heard you correctly, eyes searching yours for confirmation. When you gave no indication that you were joking or being silly, it felt like his heart flipped.
“I…care about you…as well.”
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❥ Azul Ashengrotto
He is sneakily unseaky about his feelings. One moment he’s treating you like an actual valued guest with no hidden intentions (😒) and the next he’s lowkey (highkey) flexing on you. Mixed signals because you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make you feel bad about yourself or if he’s trying to make himself look better to you. “Oh don’t worry, this won’t put a dent in my pockets,” He’d say with a smug smirk (you’re lowkey side-eyeing him). One time you poked him to see how’d he react and it was super amusing. Ran away with the brightest blush you’d ever seen claiming he had work to do…yeah…right. When you realized he is in fact trying to impress you (and realized it was really fun to tease him with affection), you became more comfortable around him, looking forward to the next time you could visit the Mostro Lounge. It got to the point that Jade would just bring you to the VIP room (if Azul wasn’t busy swindling a poor soul). When you spoke those words it came out of seemingly nowhere, Azul spilling ink all over a contract he just finished writing. He was so close to darting out of the room, face ablaze, hands trembling. Do you know just how powerful those words are? 
“P-perhaps…d-do you…I-I think…” (You broke him, don’t worry he just needs time to collect himself. He loves you too 💖)
❥ Jade Leech
Rip. It kinda takes a lot to catch his eye (do you even want that?). He found it amusing how kind you were, you wouldn’t make it for a second in the deep (k…). Yet what really caught his eye was that you were a green thumb. How you recognized one of his mushrooms and the gleam in your eyes as you stated all you knew about it (not much, but more than anyone else he’s met). Now you have a scary eel that pops up every now and then. Jade only cared about mushrooms, but now on his hikes he’d spot a plant you liked (every now and then bringing it back for you). Downside, you now had Floyd’s attention as well. I mean c’mon, his brother finding interest in someone? He just had to check the guppy out…thankfully Jade stopped him from squeezing you (a true testament of his care for you). The words spilled out of you when Jade had offered to…’help’...with a certain…’problem’ of yours (an annoying student who wouldn’t leave you alone). A look of pure shock washed over his face before it quickly turned into a cunning grin, something that sent the hairs on your arms to raise. 
“My my, what a bold statement. Please, treat me gently would you?~” (He did not forget about your ‘problem’)
❥ Floyd Leech
Rip #2. You know he cares (sometimes) when he stops calling you guppy (sometimes he does it just to annoy someone cough Riddle cough). Your case was a mix of both. One time when Floyd wouldn’t stop poking your cheeks you poked his nose with a ‘boop’, and he had deemed you boops. Also wouldn’t stop booping you back after that. He is not ashamed at all. He’d squeeze you, drape over you, pick you up, poke you, nearly kill you. The usual. You always would pretend to be annoyed (although sometimes that annoyance was very real) and Floyd always found your reactions hilarious. Although he had his bad moods, 6/10 times he’d feel better when you booped him. Jade would tease him, Azul would ask you over to the Mostro Lounge more often, even Riddle would avoid you (because where you were Floyd had to be nearby). When he was in a bad mood and you booped him while saying “I love you~”, Floyd froze. Sharp eyes watching your every move like the predator he is, a wide grin revealing his sharp teeth. 
“Awwww, I love ya too Boops! Now lemme squeeze ya!” 
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❥ Kalim Al-Asim
Where do I even start? He’s loving on you the moment he sees you. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, it's all normal to him. He cares about you so why wouldn’t he show you? Poor Jamil, he was really stressed at first, unsure what your intentions were. So to start, you had to prove yourself to Jamil, Kalim had accepted you the moment his eyes landed on you. The more you hung out, the clearer your affection for Kalim shined, and you two were basically a married couple at this point. It was easy to care for him, reciprocating his affection without hesitation. Idk there's not much to say about him, he’s just a loving and carefree guy. It was when you both were winding down, hanging out with just the other, doing some homework (one of the ways you proved yourself to Jamil). Your dreary eyes watched as Kalim swayed in place, his eyes soon meeting yours. His beaming smile had all your defenses down, words falling out without you realizing it. It wasn’t until Kalim jumped at you, squeezing you tightly, face nuzzling into your neck.
“I love you too! We should get married!”
(😅)
❥ Jamil Viper
It’s admirable that you managed to break down Jamil’s walls. He was even more surprised at how your attention would always seem to land on him instead of his insufferable prince. No matter how much Kalim basically begged for your attention, your eyes would always drift to Jamil, a warm smile on your lips when your eyes met. He showed his affection for you in how he looked after you. He had grown up taking care of someone, and although he found himself hating Kalim for his position, for Jamil’s spot in the world, he found himself enjoying caring for you. He loved how your eyes lit up when he offered you lunch, he had made too much anyways (riggggghhhht…), he felt his heart flip when you offered to help clean up or when you offered to help braid his hair. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that you truly cared for him and had no ulterior motives. His heart beat erratically when you said those words, when you looked only at him so lovingly, how your hand caressed his cheek so tenderly. It was all so overwhelming and he pulled away, pulling his hood up to hide his blush. His tongue felt heavy and he wasn’t sure if he had the heart to let himself be so vulnerable.
“Let’s continue this later…but rest assured I feel a similar way.”
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❥ Vil Schoenheit
Ohhh boy. Vil, as much as I love him, might be a bit overbearing at first. If anything, you’d feel ashamed about yourself at first. You never seemed to be good enough as Vil would always find something to pick apart about you. You’d eat too many carbs, your uniform was wrinkly, your eyebags seemed to be more pronounced. When you snapped, crying and pleading for him to just stop, that you knew you weren’t beautiful or perfect like him and you didn’t want to hear it anymore, Vil had to rethink how he showed his care. He didn’t say those things because he thought you were ugly or terrible, he only wanted you to better yourself. To become more healthy and to take better care of yourself. Reflecting, he realized just how mean he seemed…enter the spoiling. Instead of nit picking you, he would give you stuff without a word. You found yourself with skin care products made by him (he didn’t want to taint your skin with bad ingredients), he would bring you a balanced lunch (perhaps breakfast and dinner too, if you’d be kind enough to join him), and he’d gift you outfits that complemented your figure perfectly (sometimes he’d have to get them costume made). It was a bit of a shock at the drastic change, but you found yourself doting on him more as well. You both were having dinner together, Vil complaining about his coworkers and you talking about whatever you were into at the moment. When he mentioned something he’d think you’d like you found yourself sweetly telling him you loved him. He was astounded, eyes locked on yours. As much as he tried to be composed, he couldn’t deny the fluttering of his heart or the heat on his cheeks. 
“I love you as well, my sweet potato.”
❥ Rook Hunt
This man 💀. At first you were terrified. Man was literally stalking you. You even went to the professors for help because excuse me? Stalking bad. And as much as Rook took amusement in your actions, he decided to finally get to know you…face to face (he already knew a ton about you). You gave him bombastic side eye when he first was trying to talk to you. He’d pop out of bushes (strangely no leaves stuck in his hair), he’d appear right behind you…one time he seemed to appear from literally nowhere. Against your own will, you warmed up to the freak. When he wasn’t continuously complimenting you, you found him to be funny. Rook is also unashamed about his love for you, he’d shout it from the roof tops if you asked. He also took the fact that you were warm to him as a sign of affection. You didn’t nearly deck him for popping out of the bushes this time? Oh mon chéri, his heart melts that you felt his presence to be so comforting. It felt weird, Rook had complimented you many times, spouting about how much his heart yearns for you. You almost didn’t want to tell him that you loved him, a bit spiteful since you knew how smug he’d look afterwards (you’d never live it down either). Yet when Rook handed you a rose, spieling about how it could never compare to you, you found yourself crumbling. Instead of that smug look you expected, he looked genuinely happy. Green eyes bright and shining, smile so wide you thought it split. Yet that gleam soon looked like that of a predator who finally caught his prey. 
“Mon chéri, my heart weeps with joy, I cannot imagine a world without your brilliance shining. Avoir son cœur est la plus grande récompense.”
❥ Epel Felmier
Epel is a tough nut even if he looks cute. He’d tease you mercilessly (Ace moment) on some days, while most he found himself complaining to you. Vil would work him tirelessly, and he can handle tough work! You’d sneak him candy or some jerky (that was more manly than candy). He found himself always trying to impress you, whether it be carrying something heavy or showing you his grades (he improved from last time okay). He loved how you complimented his strength or his intelligence, but deep down he was scared you saw him as a cute prim boy that Vil was trying to turn him into. If anyone tried anything with you he’s the one you’d go to, making his chest puff in confidence. Of course he’s trying to not fight so Vil won’t punish him, but a stern talking too wasn’t out of the picture. You both were relaxing under a tree. You mindlessly watched Epel as he carved an apple, handing you pieces when they were cut perfectly. Another one who can’t handle it when you say it. Eyes wide, shoulders hunched, face matching the apple he was holding. 
“Ya c-can’t jus’ s-say that! Y-you tryna k-kill me? ‘Tch, you’re lucky I like ya too.”
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❥ Idia Shroud
He’s such a simp. Some days he can barely squeak out a word to you, hiding himself in the comfort of his hoodie, others he’s flexing on you about just how much more he knows about a game than you. When he’s feeling extra generous (trying to get y’alls intimacy meter up to max) he’ll buy you the fancy currency in your favorite gacha game, go on, do as many ten pulls as it takes to get your favorite character up to max level. His favorite moments are when you both are watching an anime together, in the same bed…it makes his heart explode just thinking about it (dudes on the opposite side of the bed 💀). What makes him care for you even more is how you interact with Ortho. You two are his favorite people and seeing how well you both get along just further warms his heart. When you muttered those words to him, he literally screamed. Hoodie up, hiding under his blankets, his hair the brightest pink it’s ever been. He felt light headed and he was sure if he opened his eyes his vision would be spotty.
“G-gah! Your charm is maxed out! It’s n-not fair that you had the special dialogue to insta kill me.”
❥ Ortho Shroud (platonic only obvs)
He is just a little ray of sunshine. He’s the reason why you got so close to Idia in the first place. He’s always on the hunt for any potential friends for him and his brother. You were always sweet to him, doting on him and calling him cute. Ortho honestly thought of you as another sibling (might as well be with how much you hype him up). Ortho would always try to accompany you if he had time, always ‘hinting’ at you to visit his brother (bro is not hinting, straight up just asking). He felt his cpu warm as he processed his happy feelings at watching you and his brother get along, as well as when you always brought Ortho over to join you both. It didn’t take long for you to tell Ortho you loved him, I mean he was just so adorable!
“I’m so happy! I love you too!”
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❥ Malleus Draconia
I hope you're ready to become a royal beside him. He shows he cares with grand gestures (which Lila helps make them smaller gestures). Malleus is used to people fearing him, and the fact that you didn’t? Man was gobsmacked. He shared his interests with you, and you shared yours with him. He would research anything you said that he didn’t understand (it was even better if you were the one teaching him). If you thought your affection was spilling over, Malleus’ was flooding. It turned into him giving you fine jewelry, clothing, flowers, food, you want it, it's yours. He cared for you greatly, and he was unsure how else to show his affection. You gave him a hug? He’d hug you now as a greeting. One time you booped his nose and he went cross eyed following your finger. You’d almost spilled your guts then (I’m surprised you didn’t cus that shit’s adorable). You always confused him with your cute forms of affection, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed impossible for you to keep in your love any longer on a bright, moonlit night. As you stared into the night sky, you spilled those three little words that unknowingly sealed your fate. Malleus felt his heart be set aflame, eyes taking you in. It was then that he finally thought of a perfect ring for you. 
“I love you as well, child of man. More than you could ever imagine.”
❥ Lilia Vanrouge
As silly and carefree as he was, Lilia wasn’t ready to love again. He had his family, and that was all he cared for. So when he found himself messing with you more, missing when you weren’t around, wanting to cook for you (rip #3), he felt scared. Love never went well for him, it was almost like he was cursed, and those he cared for were ripped away from him. Yet you were so sweet, trying his food and trying to give him pointers on how he could improve. The cute scared face you made when he popped out of nowhere. Gosh you made it so easy to love, it was honestly unfair. He was supposed to be the cute one! You can’t go stealing his title! You also found it a struggle to love Lilia. You knew he was older than time itself (💀), and honestly you felt a bit weird for falling for him. I mean, you were so much younger, and he was a fae. It just seemed like a lot, so you kept your feelings to yourself. That was until one night, Lilia was tucking you in since you fell asleep on him, and you muttered those cursed words as you drifted off. He actually avoided you for a few weeks after that, and you felt embarrassed that you slipped. It wasn’t until he could no longer avoid you, missing you too much and having thought it through enough.
“I hope you understand the weight of your words, after all, us fae stay with our partner for life.”
❥ Silver Vanrouge
He is so easy to get along with. He’s always looking out for you, offering you snacks when you're hungry and handing you water when you haven’t drank any yet. While he does find himself dozing off a lot, he appreciates when you try to poke him awake or go over the material he slept through. No one even questions your status, they just assume you're together with how lovey dovey you both act. He’s fallen asleep on your shoulder more times than he can count, his soft hair tickling your neck. He’d apologize when waking up, but you were too entranced by not only his beauty but the cute animals that now surrounded you both. Not to mention the way your heart would pitter patter as he would promise to defend you, his shining eyes showing complete seriousness. You had whispered your love for him when he was sleeping, gently playing with his hair. You thought he wouldn’t hear, but boy were you wrong. His soft eyes blinked open sleepily, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Am I dreaming? I hope I’m not, because I love you too.”
❥ Sebek Zigvolt
Another tsundere ass. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings for you so often I’m surprised your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged from his constant yelling. It was confusing for him because the only other person he felt a somewhat similar feeling towards was Malleus Draconia, and you were nowhere near the level of the future king of Briar Valley. He’d take his strange feelings out on you, inadvertently pushing you away. Thank the sevens for Lilia (or not) because the bat fae would always have something to say about Sebek when he’d see you. “Have you heard of how brave Sebek was?” “Have you seen how cute he is when his face turns red?” Thankfully, Sebek got used to the pitter patter he felt when you smiled at him, no longer scolding you for…smiling? Another one that you learn tends to project. He’s degrading you for being human? Well he’s half human too, so he probably feels the same about himself more than you. Which causes you to try and compliment him more…which leads to him shouting, cycle repeats. I hope you brought ear plugs, cus the moment you spilled your guts, the soft atmosphere turned harsh. His face lit up red as his shoulders rose to his ears, be prepared for a flustered, shouting croc.
“C-cease your tempting words human! I-I only have eyes for Waka-sama! I have no time for foolish endeavors that will ruin my position! W-wait, don’t l-leave! I n-never said I didn’t f-feel the s-same!”
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6K notes · View notes
mggslover · 8 months ago
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Unrequited love
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In which reader has been haunted all her life by the ghost of unrequited love, always reminding her of everything she could never have. That is — until she met Spencer.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: angst x fluff x smut (18+) Content warnings: spoilers for s8e12, very angsty but no worries there's a happy ending Word count: 5,4k A/n: for anyone who can relate to not having their love reciprocated, I'm hoping you'll find your spencer reid soon
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It’s stupid, really, to love someone so wholeheartedly. It’s even more stupid to expect them to love you back.
Never in your life had anyone reciprocated your love — hell, no one had even accepted it. Unrequited love was a burden that has clung to you all your life, a thread of rejection woven through the fabric of your earliest memories. 
You remember the moment clearly, when as a little girl you found your mother hunched over the dining room table, furiously wiping away tears she did not want you to see. You watched from afar, making sure she left the room when you tiptoed to the table, finding a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook. Your small finger traced the letters of the handwritten note. The words were jagged, some unfamiliar, making you skip them. You experienced a rush of pride and excitement when you could make out some words: leaving, sorry, woman, goodbye. It was the first time you’d read something that wasn’t written in the large colorful books Miss Abigail assigned in school. It wasn’t until a few days later, when your mother explained that your father wasn’t coming back, that the weight of the note fully sank in. From that moment on it felt like your fate was sealed. 
In middle school you had some friends, but when the moment came to pairing up for school trips, it was you being the one left out. You always had someone you would call your best friend, but you’d never be theirs. Someone always seemed to be better, more lovable, more wanted. 
In highschool, you got your first boyfriend, Timmy. You weren’t sure you loved him, but you wanted to be seen, to be noticed. So when he asked you out, you said yes. For a while, you reveled in the feeling of someone showing you off. That was until the day you overheard his friends, talking by the lockers.
“I swear, his tactic is working!” one of them said. “Jessica dumped James the second she saw Timmy walking hand in hand with Y/N through the hallways.” 
“Oh shit, man,” another friend laughed. “If I knew that, I also would’ve used a fake girlfriend to get to Hannah.” 
A fake girlfriend. The words echoed in your mind as you started to make sense of the situation. It suddenly clicked how Timmy only showed you off in public, only kissed you in the busy hallways, where people could see. It was never about you.
You decided to give love one more chance in university, but when a night that was supposed to be the first of many, ended in a one-night-stand and a “I’m sorry, but I don’t really see you that way”, you made yourself a vow: no more chasing love. You stopped giving your love to people who would never truly appreciate it, and instead, you gave that love to yourself. The library became your refuge, spending endless hours studying to give yourself the future you deserve. You passed your exams with flying colors and never forgot to reward yourself after every small victory. And when you landed a position at the BAU, making it as an FBI agent, you knew you made the right decision to never fall in love again. That was until you stepped into the office, and you saw him. Spencer Reid. 
“And this is doctor Spencer Reid,” your boss Hotchner introduced him with a nod. 
He was tall, awkward in the way only someone who was brilliant could be, but he smiled warmly as he waved a hand at you. “Hi.”
You smiled back and stuck out your hand instinctively. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
He blinked at the gesture, looking uncomfortable. He swallowed, his voice uncertain. “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like shaking hands.”
You tilted your head and laughed. “That’s totally fair. Do you know how many germs your hands carry?”
His eyes widened in surprise, as if no one had ever said that before. “I-I actually do! The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to-”
“Kiss?” you interrupted, a grin spreading across your face.
The words came out simultaneously, and you both laughed. A sound that felt... easy. Like something you hadn’t experienced before.
Someone you would later come to know as Morgan, who had been leaning against a desk, looked up at the two of you, eyebrows raised in disbelief as he shook his head. 
It was then you realized — there was something special about Spencer Reid. It was something unspoken, something more than just the intellectual connection. Before you even knew it, you had fallen in love.
You never confessed your feelings to Spencer, but you felt like there was an unspoken understanding between you. Every morning, you arrived at work with an oversweetened cup of coffee for him, and in return, he made sure you never went without your favorite sandwich from the shop around the corner, especially on days when you were too absorbed in a case to remember to eat. On your days off, you took each other on trips. Sometimes to a museum where you would explain the art in great detail, and he would pretend not to know any of the facts, just to hear you talk. Other times, you’d go to a movie screening, where he would simultaneously whisper translations of the foreign dialogue to you, making you giggle when his breath tickled your ear. You convinced yourself that this was what love was: understanding someone to the point of not needing words.
But how foolish were you to have forgotten about the shadow that lingered behind you, always ready to remind you of everything you could never have.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! Have you heard the news?” Penelope squealed in delight as she rushed toward you, the rhythmic click of her heels making a melody against the office floor. 
You glanced up from your desk, raising an eyebrow. “Based on the excitement, I’m going to assume you're not talking about the wildfires in California.”
“Oh no, no,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m talking about big news. The juicy kind.”
You chuckled, leaning back in your chair as you sipped your tea. “Alright Pen, bring it on.”
Penelope’s grin widened. “Spencer has a girlfriend!” She yelped, hands flying to her mouth as she realized just how loud she’s gotten.
You blink as you try to process her words. “He finally adopted a cat?” 
Penelope shook her head vigorously. “Y/N, I mean a real girlfriend. An actual human being girlfriend!”
You scrunch your forehead, the words not quite connecting. “I don’t think I understand.”
Penelope leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Derek told me that Blake told him that Spencer’s been making calls... to a woman.” She glances around quickly, making sure no one can overhear. 
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your smile drops at the familiarity of the situation. Spencer had been leaving the bullpen often recently. You’d always assumed it was because he was still struggling with his headaches and didn’t want the team to get worried. Not in a million years would you have expected Spencer was seeing someone.
Penelope continues speaking, but her words fade into the background as your thoughts spiral. “Excuse me,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you push yourself out of your chair and rush to the bathroom.
Once inside, you lock the door behind you. Your chest tightens, the familiar weight of a panic attack settling in as if it had never left. Your breath comes short and shallow, the room spinning slightly as you grip the sink. The air feels thick, suffocating even. For the first time in years you find yourself back in this situation, fighting to breathe.
After a while, the whispers and giggles about Reid's love affair had died down. Still, it took Spencer some time to feel comfortable enough to share more about her — Maeve Donovan, the brilliant, lovely woman who had stolen his heart. Being his best friend, it was you who he turned to. The one who had to endure all the little details of their intimate phone calls.
And you tried, you really did. You tried to be the supportive friend, even when each word about Maeve felt like a thorn twisting in your chest. You’d joke, asking him if he was sure Maeve wasn’t some sixty-year-old man catfishing him, or teasing him about how it didn’t count as a relationship if you’d never actually met the person. The snark was the only way you could cope with the sinking feeling every time he smiled when her name came up, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of her. But Spencer was oblivious to your remarks. No matter how hard you tried to plant seeds of doubt in his mind, it never seemed to have any effect.
It was a sad thing to admit, but on nights when anxiety kept you awake, you couldn’t help but wish for their relationship to end. You prayed for a chance to tell Spencer how you really felt. You convinced yourself there would be time, that everything was going well, and eventually you’d find the courage to speak up. But on nights like these, you deeply regret never having thought of the possibility of another girl realizing how incredible Spencer is, and making a move before you ever could. 
Those feelings of jealousy turned into big regret, when Spencer came bursting into the bullpen, panic and fear evident in his eyes. He was frantic, certain that Maeve had been kidnapped. His suspicions turned out to be tragically true, and your world crumbled the moment the gunshot rang out, taking Maeve from him. Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Spencer broke down in front of you, and you couldn’t even reach out to comfort him, believing it was you who caused this. That the ghost you knew as unrequited love, finally gave you what you wished for. 
You wanted to scream, to turn back time, to take back every selfish thought. But now wasn’t the time for regret. When Spencer locked himself in his apartment, unwilling to speak to anyone, you made it your mission to be there for him. You were the only person he let in, and when the door creaked open, you were struck by the sight of him — pale, hollow-eyed, and worn down in a way you’d never seen before. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace. The two of you cried together, until his neighbor shouted at you both for the noise. From that moment on, you’d take Spencer to your apartment. Making sure he had a warm, homemade meal waiting for him as you’d binge Doctor Who episodes, trying to get him to smile even just a little. Slowly, he began to open up, the weight of his grief pouring out in quiet conversations. And you made sure you listened to every word as you held him close, offering whatever comfort you could.
As the weeks passed by, the weight of the situation was becoming overwhelming. It wasn’t easy hearing the love of your life talk about another woman. The way he spoke about her, like she meant more to him after just a couple of months than you ever did in all the years you stood by his side. It was almost too much to bear. When you overheard a moment between Reid and JJ, where Spencer mentioned how he would’ve had kids if it weren’t for Maeve dying, you realized you couldn’t keep going like this. You needed time to process what you were feeling, to grieve what you’d lost — even if it wasn’t really yours to begin with. So, you called in sick for the next case. Hoping you could clear your mind, while the team was out of state.
So here you were, experiencing heartbreak like all those times before — rotting on the couch with a pint of ice cream as you watched reruns of Love Island. 
You jumped when a loud banging echoed from the front door. Your surprise faded as quickly as it came, knowing there was only one person that would bother you this late an hour. 
“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up!” Spencer’s voice rang out, firm and insistent.
With a sigh, you shuffled to the front door, trying to steady yourself before facing him. The moment you opened the door, you were met with Spencer, brows furrowed in concern and annoyance.
“Where were you? You didn’t show up on the jet, and you’re never late,” he said, brushing past you to step inside.
“Sure, let yourself in,” you muttered under your breath, closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t feeling well, had a headache,” you replied, keeping your tone casual.
Spencer paused, taking a quick glance around the room. His eyes landed on the TV blaring in the background and the half-empty pint of ice cream on the coffee table. He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.
“Your TV is on full blast, and you’re eating ice cream,” he said, his tone skeptical, clearly aware of your lie.
You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, I just needed a break.” 
“A break?” He scoffed. “You never take breaks. We practically had to force you to stay home when you got shot. You’re always there, no matter what. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”
As much as you appreciated hearing that he needed you, this wasn’t the time to feel flattered by it. “Spencer, I know,” you started, your voice taut with frustration. “I just had my own things to worry about.”
“What things?” He stepped closer, his tone rising. “What could be more important than your work? Then being there for a friend when he needs you?” It was obvious how upset he was.
“I was worried about you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I called you every day, and you didn’t pick up.”
His words hit harder than you expected, and a bitter laugh escaped before you could stop it. “What about me, Spencer?” you snapped. “Have you ever thought about me needing a break? Or am I not important enough for that?”
“Oh, please.” His voice dripped with disbelief. “You’ve always been there for me, but suddenly you can’t pick up your phone because you need time for yourself?”
“God, you’re such an ass,” you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“Me? I’m the ass?” His voice pitched higher, his eyes widening in disbelief.
“Yes, Spencer! I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I needed time off.”
“You could’ve just picked up the damn phone!” he yelled. “Do you even realize how worried I was?”
“It sounds like you were more worried about yourself than me,” you countered in an icy tone.
His face twisted in frustration, but then his shoulders sagged. “Is that what you think? I was worried about you. Can you even imagine what it was like for me to call and get no answer?”
You swallowed. For a split second your mind drifted to Maeve, thinking that he might’ve felt the same fear as when she didn’t pick up the phone. You quickly put the thought away, he didn’t care about you like that.
“If you’d just asked Hotch, you would’ve gotten an answer right away,” you responded, crossing your arms in defense.
Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so Hotch knew?”
“Of course, Spencer. He’s my boss!”
“And I am your friend! I always tell you everything before I let anyone else know.”
You rolled your eyes, frustration taking over. “Well, that’s on you. Just because you feel the need to bother everyone with your problems doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”
The instant regret was written all over your face as the words left your mouth. Spencer’s expression shifted, looking completely stunned.
“Spencer, I didn’t mean-”
But the damage was done. His shoulders stiffened and his jaw tightening before looking away.
“Please, Spence, I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” your voice trembled as you reached out to him, but he instinctively took a step back.
“Spencer, I’m so sorry,” you pleaded. “I don’t know why I said that.”
He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Oh, but you said it. And you meant it.” His voice was quieter now, but somehow it felt heavier. The anger in his eyes had faded, replaced with something worse: disappointment.
“Spencer,” you whispered, the sound barely audible. You were terrified to say anything else that could upset him.
He gaze fell down, before he looked back up at you. His expression had softened slightly, though the hurt still lingered in his eyes. “Do you really think I bother people with my problems?”
“No!” you replied in a desperate cry. “I don’t know why I said that. I don’t think that at all. I’m so glad you opened up to me and trusted me with your feelings.”
“And yet…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples in frustration. “You ignored my calls. You avoided me. And then you said that. Jesus.” His hands fell to his sides as he let out a tired sigh, exhaustion etched into every feature.
“Spencer,” you started, but he interrupted. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking at you like he was searching for answers he couldn’t find. “If you’re glad I talk to you about my feelings, why did you shut me out?”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his question bearing down on you. “It’s just… a lot to handle, Spence,” you admitted. “I’m not a therapist. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. I want to be there for you, I really do, but it takes a toll on me too.”
“It takes a toll on you too?” His voice rose, and you cursed yourself for triggering another outburst without meaning to. “I’m the one with ‘the problem’. I’m the one with the dead girlfriend! All you had to do was be there for me when I needed you.”
You exhaled heavily. “I’m getting a drink,” you muttered as you made your way over to the kitchen. Spencer followed behind you, not willing to give up yet.
“Of course,” Spencer said, with a sarcastic edge. “Grab a drink. That’ll fix everything.”
Ignoring him, you grabbed a glass and poured a generous amount of whiskey. You raised it to your lips, savoring the burn as you swallowed.
He crossed his arms, watching you with a raised eyebrow. “You know what? Go ahead. Keep ignoring the problem. That’s what you’re good at, right? Avoiding things.”
Your hand trembled slightly as you set the glass down. “I know you don’t believe me,” you said, your voice shaking, “but I am trying.”
“Trying?” Spencer’s laugh was humorless. “You didn’t even call me. You just disappeared. I needed you, and you left. What kind of ‘trying’ is that?”
“God, Spencer, I didn’t want to avoid you. I wanted to pick up the phone, to explain everything, but I couldn’t. I knew I’d just hurt you more, and I couldn’t-” Your voice broke against your will. “I couldn’t risk ruining all the progress you’ve made.”
Spencer’s expression softened, his furrowed brow easing as confusion replaced his anger. “You’re not protecting me by keeping whatever it is that’s bothering you to yourself. You’re hurting me even more by shutting me out. I want to be able to help you when you’re struggling, Y/N.”
Your throat tightened. You bit your lip in an effort to stop the tears and confessions from spilling out.
He gently cupped your hands in his. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me in. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.” 
Your chest ached as you stared into his glistening eyes. How could you possibly tell him? How could you burden him with the truth when he was already carrying so much? But the way he looked at you, so desperate — it broke something inside you.
The words escaped before you could stop them. “I’m in love with you.”
It felt like the world had stopped. Spencer stood completely frozen, his heart skipping multiple beats. Then he loosened his grip on your hand, and you immediately regretted speaking up.
“You.. you’re in love with me?”
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, guilt twisting in your chest.
He stared at you in silence, his gaze unreadable as he processed your words. After a long pause, he spoke up. “You’re sorry?”
At this point, tears were streaming down your cheeks. “I’m an awful friend.”
“No, no, no,” Spencer said quickly, stepping closer. His heart ached as he reached up to gently cup your face, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. He hated to see you cry. “You are not an awful friend — you’re wonderful.”
“Don’t say that,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not wonderful, Spencer. I listened to you grieve every night, and still I felt jealous because she got your love, even if it was just for a second.”
His eyes widened. “Jealous?” he asked softly. “You were jealous of Maeve?”
You cringed at his words, shame tightening your chest. “I know, it’s disgusting. I get it if you never want to see me again.”
“Is that what you think? That I’d stop wanting to see you?” He shook his head. “How can you think I’d judge you for having feelings for me?”
“Because I blame myself, Spencer!” you cried. “I should’ve been happy for you, but I wasn’t. And now she’s gone, and I feel like it’s my fault.”
He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a tight embrace. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of that. You didn’t make any of those things happen,” he reassured. “They were just… they were just an unfortunate turn of events. You didn’t have any control over it.” He held you tightly against him, trying to comfort you as his heart ached. 
“You shouldn’t touch me,” you sniffled, but you weren’t able to pull yourself away, needing his touch.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. “I should touch you,” he said firmly. “I should hold you, and comfort you, and be there for you. Because that’s what friends do. That’s what I want to do.”
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice quivering with emotion. “I did feel jealous, but please, don’t think for a second that I didn’t care. I’d do anything to bring her back.”
“I know you care,” he murmured into your hair. “I know you do. That’s why I could never think of you as a bad friend.”
You cried against his chest, as the weight of all these months finally came crashing down. His arms tightened around you, grounding you. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”
You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me.”
“Yes, I should,” he said. His arms didn’t loosen, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish if he let go. “Your feelings matter. Your happiness matters. I don’t want you putting yourself aside for my sake.”
Something in his tone gave you the courage to lift your gaze. His eyes searched for yours, and they were filled with an emotion you hadn’t dared dreaming of. Carefully, he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing against your tear-streaked cheek with a gentleness that made your chest ache. 
“I mean it,” he firmly repeated. “You matter to me, more than you probably realize.”
It was out of instinct that you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand calming you down.“You can still talk to me,” you said quietly. “I just… I needed a break. But we can still have our talks.”
He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I know. And I’ll take you up on that.” 
His hand remained on your face as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “I care about you. I always have, and I always will.”
The proximity was impossible to ignore as his thumb traced slow, soft circles on your cheek, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice quiet and pained, “for not realizing sooner how you felt about me.”
“It’s fine, Spence,” you replied with a shrug. “I should’ve been more obvious.”
A quiet sigh escaped his lips, his heart heavy with remorse. “You were, I should’ve known. Penelope and JJ never treated me the way you did.” He admitted. “I wasted so much time. I could have had you, but I was too blind to see it.”
“You… you would want to be with me?” you asked, surprise noticeable in your voice.
His expression filled with disbelief. “Of course I would. How could I not? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re caring, you’re beautiful...” His voice dropped to a tender hum. “You’re everything.” 
You looked away, as doubt crept in. “You’re just confused,” you said. “I gave you a lot to process all at once.”
“I’m not confused,” he said steadily, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not about this. I know how I feel. I know that it’s you that I want.”
Your heart ached at how convincing he sounded, but you couldn’t stop your uncertainty. “You’re not over her, Spence.”
The mention of Maeve made him swallow, his gaze flicked downward for a moment. “I know,” he said quietly, as he looked up at you. “I know I’m not completely over her. I may never be. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Tears welled in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel fair,” you admitted. “I’ve wanted you for so long. It doesn’t feel fair that I get to have you now.”
Spencer gently urged you closer. The simple comfort of holding you in his arms felt overwhelming. “You deserve everything, Y/N. You’ve been here for me from the start. You’re one of the most selfless, most loyal, most caring people I know.” 
The warmth in his gaze, the tenderness in his touch, made it impossible to look away.
“I need you,” he said, his voice a raw confession. “Not talking to you these past days was torture. I can’t do this without you. I need you in my life, Y/N. Not just as a friend.” He paused, his next words coming out in a whisper. “You deserve to be loved, please let me be the one to do that.”
You felt your breath catch. No word in the dictionary could describe the way you were feeling. “Can I kiss you?”
His lips parted in surprise, before his eyes flashed with emotion. “Yes. Please.”
His hands cupped your face, before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was everything — raw, urgent, and filled with years of unspoken longing. A desperate whimper escaped your throat, conveying the need you’d kept bottled up all this time. Spencer seemed to feel it too, deepening the kiss as his fingers threaded into your hair, afraid you might slip away.
He effortlessly lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his body fitting perfectly between your legs as you wrapped them tightly around his waist. The closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy your need. Your fingers found his tie, fumbling to loosen it before letting it fall to the floor.
They continued their path to the buttons of his shirt. Spencer groaned softly against your lips, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. Your palms met his bare skin, causing his grip on your hips yo tighten. The air around you grew hotter, as every inch of his body seemed to react to your touch.
“God, Y/N…” he roughly murmured. His forehead rested briefly against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. But his hands never stopped, sliding down your sides and pulling you even closer.
You continued your exploration, your fingertips tracing the planes of his chest and shoulders as if trying to memorize him. 
You’d always imagined taking your time when this moment finally came — savoring every touch, every kiss. But now that it was happening, you couldn’t stop the rush coursing through you. The need to feel him everywhere, to prove that this was real.
“Spencer, please,” you whimpered against his mouth, your voice filled with desperation.
“I know, sweet girl,” he murmured, knowing exactly what you needed. His hands slid down to your thighs, gently parting them to make room for himself. His touches made you desperate for more, and you let out a quiet cry of relief as his fingers moved to his belt, the soft clink of the buckle filling the air.
You didn’t want to waste any time, tugging your pants down your legs in a frenzy, eager to meet him halfway. Spencer’s gaze flickered to yours, his eyes dark with need, and in an instant, his mouth was on yours again.
His kiss was hungry, all consuming. One hand grasped your waist, holding himself steady, while he used the other to hook beneath your leg, lifting it effortlessly to pull you in even closer.
You threw your head back as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he slowly pushed into you, the stretch intoxicating. Your fingers gripped his back as you sunk your nails into his skin.
The sharp bite of pain drew a low, guttural groan from him, his face buried in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against you as he murmured your name like a prayer.
“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you gasped, as he began to move, his hips rolling into yours. 
His breath hitched at your words, and he pressed a soft kiss to your jawline. “I know, baby,” he mumbled. “We’ll make up for it,”
A soft giggle escaped you, but it was quickly swallowed by a moan as his pace quickened. 
“Oh, Spence… I’m already close,” you confessed, never having reached an orgasm this fast.
“Thank God,” he groaned, his voice rough with desperation, as his grip on your hips tightened. He guided you to meet his thrusts, the intensity of his movements growing erratic, overwhelmed by pleasure. 
Unable to resist, you cupped his face, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss as you moaned and gasped for breath. 
Your walls clenched around him, drawing a string of delicate moans from your lips as your head fell back. Spencer took full advantage of your exposed neck, sucking and biting on the skin, claiming you. His thrusts grew deeper. He was determined to hit the spot that he knew would make you cry out in pleasure.
Spencer’s low, breathy groans filled the air, and you could tell he was close. Your legs began to shake around him, and as if perfectly in sync, your release crashed over you at the same time that he shuddered and spilled into you.
“I love you,” you gasped, the words leaving your lips over and over as your orgasm rushed through you. Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. You couldn’t tell if it was the sheer intensity of the feeling or the flood of emotions you’d been bottling up for so long, but what you did know is that you meant every word.
Spencer stayed close, his breaths uneven as he gently rocked into you, drawing out the shared high. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to brush your hair out of your tear-streaked face. His eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he truly saw you — every part of you.
A soft smile tugged at his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“I love you too.”
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fromdove · 21 days ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⁞ fuzzy socks && kisses
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word count: ~2308 words
pairing: jason todd x fem!reader
warnings: no warnings!! just fluff fluff fluff
dove's notes: hope you lovelies feel fed! i've been in kind of a writing slump lately but this got my ass out of it, thanks jason! you sexable man
© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.
∿    . `💭` ㆍ
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── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
It’s late. Like... late-late. The kind of late that seeps into your bones.
Even Gotham—loud, wild, unapologetically feral Gotham—has finally surrendered, just for a moment, to something like stillness. The city glows in that soft amber-orange light, the kind that feels more at home in an old Polaroid than in real life. The sun is almost fully up now, low and golden, peeling the night away.
The usual chaos seems to fold in on itself, hushed by the light drizzle slicking the pavement, taming the streets into quiet. The rain isn’t a storm—just a gentle mist that turns the city’s sharp edges soft and blurry. Streetlamps still flicker with that worn-out, golden buzz—old, tired things that have been burning too long and just want to be left in peace.
Jason’s key slides into the lock with practiced ease, he turns the key just right, pushes the door so it doesn’t squeak, nudges it closed with the heel of his boot instead of the knob. and the door clicks shut behind him just as silently.
He doesn’t need to be sneaky here—not really. but old habits die hard, and years of slipping through shadows don’t shake off just because he’s home. His movements are practiced, second nature: helmet off first, carefully set on the shelf by the door. One boot, then the other—nudged off with the toe of the opposite foot, slow and quiet like the night depends on it.
The hardwood greets him with a low, familiar groan—right on cue. That same loose floorboard just past the entryway. The one he told himself he’d fix months ago. He meant to. Still does. He just... hasn’t gotten around to it yet. Too many nights chasing down people who make louder noises than floorboards ever could.
You don’t stir from the creak.
Turns out he was right. You waited up for him.
He’d asked you not to wait up. Not in a demanding way—never like that—but soft and worn-out. He’d pulled you in earlier, arms snug around your waist, face tucked into your hair. Kissed the crown of your head and mumbled it into your scalp. “Get some sleep, yeah? please don't wait.” Low, rough, he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night worried about you too.
And you had nodded against his chest, mumbled something into his shirt that sounded like “okay.” And then you’d looked up, eyes squinting, and stuck out your pinky.
“Promise,” you said, voice soft but still holding that stubborn spark. “Double pinky swear. Triple. Triple pinky swear with a twist. and the secret seal, you know the seal.”
You wiggled your pinky at him like it was the most sacred of all vows. you made it seem like it would physically hurt you for him not to make it official. And when he tried to pretend he didn’t remember the "secret seal", you just poked him in the chest, right over his heart, with a dramatic little hmph.
“Seal it,” you said. So he did. He kissed your pinky, then your forehead, and said something grumbly about how ridiculous this was. But he was smiling when he said it, all soft around the edges. so you didn't take him too seriously.
He should’ve known you’d break the swear the second his back was turned.
he should know by now what your promises mean.
When you say, “I’ll sleep, I pinky swear,” what you really mean is: “I’ll lie on the couch with something playing, just to fill the space. I’ll tell myself I’m not waiting, that I’m just resting, but I’ll keep glancing at the clock anyway. Keep listening for your key in the door without even realizing I’m doing it. I’ll stay like that until my eyes finally give up on me.”
And, well. here you are now, proving exactly that.
You're curled up in the corner of the couch, soft and still. One arm hangs off the edge, fingers loose and completely at ease. Your head's tilted in a way that would probably horrify a chiropractor, smushed against an old throw pillow that’s definitely past its prime. The blanket you meant to wrap around yourself is bunched awkwardly at your waist, halfway sliding off. Your feet are bare, sticking out at the end.
He shakes his head.
“You and the goddamn socks,” he mumbles, almost fondly.
You never remember them. He reminds you every time. Sometimes through gritted teeth, sometimes through a text sent from five rooftops away. Somehow, he always knows when you’re not wearing socks—even when he’s nowhere near you.
He swears you forget on purpose. Just to get under his skin.
He doesn’t care about Gotham winters—not for himself, anyway. But when it comes to you, suddenly it’s a national emergency. He’ll play the overbearing mom if he has to, lecturing you about cold floors and catching colds and how you’re definitely going to get sick if you keep this up. He just wants to make sure you’re warm and okay. And if that means telling you to “put on your goddamn socks” like it’s life or death—then yeah. He’ll do it. Every single time.
But it’s hard to be annoyed. Looking at you like this, he can’t feel anything but softness.
The TV’s still playing. Some old movie you’ve seen a dozen times, maybe more. you’ve worn this DVD out. You’ve cried during it, laughed at it, talked over it. The dialogue is quiet, the music gentle, and he recognizes the scene even without looking—it’s the one you always quote, the one that always makes you cry, even when you say it won’t this time.
He doesn’t move right away.
Just stands there in the entryway, taking you in.
There’s a soft crease pressed into your cheek from the pillow. Your lips are parted slightly, breath slow and even. One leg’s folded beneath you, the other hanging off the couch like you gave up halfway through trying to find a comfortable position.
For a moment, his chest aches with the gentleness of it. from how soft it all feels. The quiet trust of being missed. Of being waited for. Of being loved in a way that's steady and patient and real.
Eventually, he moves toward you, his steps light. Careful not to jostle the couch.
He crouches down beside the couch, one knee down first. Then the other. resting one forearm on the cushion as he watches your sleeping face up close for a beat longer than necessary. There’s a smear of mascara under one eye from where you must’ve rubbed it in your sleep. He notices the way your eyelashes flutter. The soft puff of your breath when you exhale. The faint remnants of whatever lip balm you’d put on earlier, faded into a subtle shine.
His hand hovers for a second before brushing a loose strand of hair off your forehead.
“You forgot socks again, sweetheart,” he murmurs under his breath.
He nudges one of your toes, just to check if you’ll move. You don’t. You’re completely knocked out.
God, you look so cold. He can’t seem to shake that thought.
He moves carefully. He takes one arm beneath your knees, the other under your back. He lifts slow. Doesn’t rush it. Your body sags against his shoulder with a sigh, head finding its usual home in the crook of his neck.
He holds you for a second longer than he needs to. Just standing there in the middle of the dim living room, the flicker of the TV painting sleepy shadows across the ceiling, your heartbeat slow against his chest.
Then he walks.
He walks you to the bedroom in silence, letting the movie play on in the background like white noise.
He leans down slowly, careful not to rush as he lowers you onto the bed. Your body melts into the mattress with a quiet sigh, your arms falling loosely by your sides, completely surrendered to the idea of rest.
Once you’re lying there, he pulls the covers up gently, making sure the blanket doesn’t drag over your face. Without really thinking, he shifts your pillow just a little, tucking it closer so you’re comfortable.
Then he slips out of the room for what feels like no time at all—just long enough to dig out a clean pair of his thickest socks. The kind so ridiculously bulky they look like something your grandma would have knitted with all the love in the world but zero concern for fashion.
The fuzzy, wool-lined ones, way too big for anyone but somehow perfect, the ones he bought you during some crazy snowstorm. the same ones you refuse to wear because you think they look ridiculous.
He kneels at the foot of the bed like he’s about to propose to your frozen feet and carefully peels back the blanket, just enough to free your toes. They twitch a little when the cool air hits them. He smiles to himself, like yeah, cold. thought so.
He warms your feet first with his hands. Rubs his thumbs gently over the arch of one foot, then the other. His palms are calloused, sure, but warm—so warm. He murmurs something barely audible while he works, something like, “You're going to be sick if you keep this up.” but there’s laughter buried in the rasp of it.
Then he pulls the socks on—slow and careful, making sure they don’t tug or stretch out of shape. He slips them onto your feet one at a time, smoothing the edges gently, his thumbs brushing softly over your ankles.
And then, like he can’t stop himself, before he pulls the covers back over your feet, he leans down and presses a slow, gentle kiss just above your ankle bone. Right in that little space between where the sock ends and your skin begins.
Then he stands back up and carefully tucks the two thick blankets around you—one side, then the other—making sure you’re snug. He even folds the top edge down near your collarbone, just enough so you won’t get too hot, but still stay cozy.
He brushes some hair out of your face. Lets his fingers rest there for a moment, just above your temple.
He probably should’ve showered by now—still smelling like sweat, gunpowder, and whatever else Gotham threw at him tonight.
Not wanting to dirty your bed, he quietly slips off to the bathroom.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The shower lasts about twenty minutes. He keeps it quick. Not rushed, just efficient. Muscle memory, mostly. Hot water, steam thick in the air, the scent of soap clinging to his skin. He scrubs away the grime of the city, the kind that seeps into your bones even when nothing technically went wrong.
He’s not injured tonight. No bruised ribs, no split lip, no blood staining his knuckles. Somehow, it was a quiet patrol—so quiet it made the back of his neck itch with suspicion. But nothing happened. For once, Gotham gave him her version of a night off.
And he took it. Reluctantly.
Now, clean but still a little damp, his towel-dried hair curling at the ends, he’s wandering down the hallway barefoot and shirtless. Jason’s a total hypocrite—always fussing about you wearing socks and staying warm so you don’t get sick, then here he is doing the exact opposite. If you were awake and saw him like this, he’d never live it down. But honestly, you’re no different—you’re always on his case about being careful and responsible. Guess that makes you two just two sides of the same stubborn coin.
Every step slightly quicker than the last, the hum of the apartment settling into sleep around him.
The bedroom door creaks faintly as he pushes it open. You’re still in the same position he left you in—curled up beneath the blankets, your breathing deep and slow. He smiles to himself.
He pulls back one side of the blanket slowly, careful not to let the cool air wake you. Then he climbs into bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. The sheets are warm. You are warmer.
As soon as he settles, you stir—just a little. Your body shifts with the change, but you don’t wake. Not really.
Still, your hand finds his.
It’s slow and searching, like your body is half-asleep but still knows exactly where it wants to be. You don’t even open your eyes. Just reach out blindly, fingers brushing along his until they slot perfectly between his own.
He Just stares at your face in the low light filtering in through the curtains. His chest tightens—not in the bad way, not like panic or dread. In the way that makes him feel too full. Like there’s something blooming under his ribs and it doesn’t know where to go.
You tug his hand toward you slightly, not even aware you’re doing it. He shifts closer without thinking, until his chest is pressed to your back and his forehead is resting in that familiar dip just behind your shoulder. He exhales slow. Letting himself sink.
Your skin is warm beneath his touch, and your hair still carries the soft scent of your shampoo.
He presses the lightest kiss to the curve of your shoulder blade, actually not even really a kiss—more like a pause. A place to rest his mouth.
Night, sweetheart,” he whispers. His voice is rough, a little low and lazy from sleep he hasn’t let himself have yet. But there’s something softer underneath it.
You don’t speak. You just make a quiet sound in the back of your throat—something between a sigh and a hum. The kind of noise someone makes when they feel something good and safe and familiar settle beside them.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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phoenixrisingastro · 5 months ago
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𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔚𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔓𝔬𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔜𝔬𝔲: 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔄𝔱𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫
There are lovers you forget, faces that blur into the past like whispers in the wind. And then, there are those who mark you, stain you, haunt you. The ones you can’t shake no matter how many years pass, the ones who live inside you like an unrelenting ghost.
Some people are designed to be unforgettable. Their energy lingers, their presence intoxicates, their touch leaves permanent fingerprints on your soul. These are the people who possess you—or the ones who make you crave to possess them.
So what makes someone unshakable? What makes someone a walking addiction, a fever that never breaks? Look to the stars. Because some people are just born to be worshiped… or feared.
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The Placements That Make You a Living Obsession
Some people don’t just love—they devour. They don’t just leave an impression—they imprint. They pull you into a world where time doesn’t exist, where they are all you can think about, all you can crave.
If you have any of these placements, consider yourself a walking temptation—dangerous, hypnotic, inescapable.
Pluto Conjunct the Sun, Moon, Venus, or Ascendant
Pluto is raw power, magnetic dominance, the abyss you can’t escape. When it fuses with personal planets, you don’t just exist—you consume.
Pluto-Sun: Your very existence commands reverence and fear. People will try to break you, tame you, but they never will.
Pluto-Moon: Love with you is trauma-bonding. Once someone loves you, they never truly stop. You own them, even after they walk away.
Pluto-Venus: Your lovers either worship you or destroy themselves trying to have you. Even if they escape, they’ll compare everyone to you forever.
Pluto-Ascendant: The world sees you and wants more, but they don’t realize that once they get close, they’ll never leave whole.
You’re not just a lover—you’re a religion.
Venus in Scorpio or the 8th House
Venus in Scorpio is not here for a “normal” love. They don’t want surface-level connections. They want blood oaths, psychic bonds, vows spoken in whispers against bare skin.
Love with them feels like jumping off a cliff—once you fall, there’s no coming back.
They have a way of looking at you that makes you forget how to breathe.
Even if they never touch you, you’ll feel owned by them.
They don’t love lightly. They possess.
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Lilith Conjunct the Sun, Moon, Venus, or Mars
Lilith is the forbidden, the untamed, the bite of desire that tastes like sin. If you have Lilith touching personal planets, you exude an energy that makes people act out of character.
Lilith-Sun: You are unapologetic in your darkness. People both despise and crave you.
Lilith-Moon: You awaken people’s deepest taboos, their secret fantasies they’ve never spoken aloud.
Lilith-Venus: Your beauty isn’t just attractive—it’s dangerous. People see you as a temptation, an obsession, a curse they can’t escape.
Lilith-Mars: People don’t just desire you—they want to conquer you. But once they get close, they realize they’re the ones under your control.
You are the unholy temptation they can’t resist.
Mars in the 8th House
Sex with you feels like a ritual, a death, a rebirth. Mars in the 8th house isn’t interested in meaningless pleasure—they want to merge, to own, to ruin and be ruined.
You pull people in without trying. Even those who swear they’ll keep their distance find themselves crawling back.
When you leave, you don’t just go—you haunt.
Lovers will remember you for a lifetime, even if they don’t understand why.
You don’t just take lovers—you consume them.
Aspects That Make You Addictive
Some synastry aspects make people feel like they’ve known each other forever. Some make them want to escape but never will. And then there are the aspects that make people willing to burn their lives down just to keep tasting you.
These are the aspects that make love feel like a spell, a hex, an inescapable fate.
Venus-Pluto Aspects (Synastry & Natal)
This is the mark of obsession, possession, destruction.
Love feels fated, intoxicating, irreversible.
Even when it’s over, it’s never over.
Someone always comes back… even if they shouldn’t.
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Mars-Pluto Aspects (Synastry & Natal)
Lust at first sight? No. Lust that feels like a past-life curse.
The sex will ruin you for anyone else.
Power struggles, jealous rages, nights of passion followed by days of war.
Even after you walk away, you’ll dream about them.
Moon-Pluto Aspects (Synastry & Natal)
This is not just a connection—it’s a soul contract.
They will see the deepest parts of you, even the ones you hide.
When they touch you, you’ll feel exposed, vulnerable, like you belong to them.
No matter how far they run, they’ll always feel your energy around them.
Pluto never lets go.
Are You the Possessor or the Possessed?
You know the feeling.
You meet someone, and suddenly, they live in your thoughts rent-free. You tell yourself it’s nothing, that you can stop thinking about them whenever you want.
And then you realize—you can’t.
Maybe it’s their energy, their mystery, the way they see through you like no one else has. Maybe it’s the way they touch you—like they already own you.
Or maybe… just maybe…
You are the one who possesses.
Maybe you’re the one who lingers in their mind, the one they can’t shake, can’t leave, can’t replace.
Maybe you’re the reason they check their phone at 3 AM.
Maybe you’re the reason they stare at their ceiling at night, wondering why they can’t stop craving you.
Look at your chart.
Look at theirs.
Then ask yourself…
Are you the hunter? Or the prey?
© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved
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angelltheninth · 4 months ago
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You and another writer motivated me to continue watching Invincible- I just finished season 2 last night and I forgot how much Mark suffers yet he still keeps his heart of gold, which just makes him more attractive to me.
Seeing all the tragedies Mark goes through makes me want to love up on him and console him, and tell him he’s doing his best. Can you write something like that for him? With comfort sex please 👉🏻👈🏻
I'm so glad that my writing got you into the show. It's so good, and it makes you cry at the same time
Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, comfort sex, nipple sucking, self-hatred, gentle sex, crying, hurt/comfort, slight breeding kink
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions
A/N: Mark goes through so much, that is so true. He needs therapy.
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The one pushing for the two of you to hurry up and get naked is Mark
However the only reason he's being pushy is because he is so desperate to feel something other than the pain and grief he's constantly been hit with
All the while you're whispering soft words into his ear, cradling his head in your hands as you bring his lips back to yours to stop his tirade of self-loathing words
It can only be for a while but you swear that you will take his mind off the things that bother him so much that he can hardly sleep
Neither of you can turn back time and do things differently but you have the here and the now, and right now you want to show him how much you love him and want him
Your hands are slow, gentle, taking time to take his clothes off, paying attention to every scar he's gotten, older and new ones
Mark shivers when you pull him close and press your bodies together, your legs around his hips, his hands trembling across your thighs and ass as he floats you down on the bed
Usually he's pretty chatty during sex, but now he just can't seem to tell you anything but how he wishes he was better, stronger, worthy of loving you as much as you love him
He sucks desperately on your neck, his tongue licking against your pulsepoint
As he pushes his aching cock inside of you his whole body is shaking with nerves and energy he's been holding within, the stress, the lust
Earning a moan of approval from you he picks up the pace, not really caring if he breaks the bed at this point
Desperate for his mouth on you he takes one nipple and tugs lightly, eliciting the sweetest sound of pleasure
Barely any space is left between your bodies
Fingers intertwined with each other and your pussy tight, massaging his pulsing cock, it feels like those are the only things that are keeping him grounded, from spiraling
Judging by how Mark is looking up at you and by how hard his hips are snapping against yours you can all but hear him asking you if it's okay to come inside of you
Even on the best of days he's shy to ask you that question
Not that he doesn't want to do it, but now, with so many things happening, it's riskier if you should become pregnant
To hell with the what ifs, you love him and he loves you, so you give him a nod, you tell him, whisper a yes into the tense silence between you
Whimpering as he pistons his hips against yours tears spill down his cheeks, all of his emotions hitting him at once
You lean the both of you on the side and hold him while he keeps pumping thick ropes of cum inside of you, vowing to get stronger, to never let anyone hurt you, hurt him, hurt anyone he cares about ever again
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melloeyed · 2 months ago
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More Gaslight District X Mom!Reader
(Mostly Ken x Wife!Reader Headcanons)
Warning: There are spicy parts in here!🔞
Part One
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(A/N: I’m actually glad you guys liked the previous post, so I guess I’ll make another one! Man, so many people liked it-🫀🫀)
• You and Ken’s relationship was the perfect example of unhinged and wholesome. Two proud parents of a big, happy psychotic family. You both have never been more happier in your lives.
• You were always the calm to Ken’s storm. Whenever the gears would shift in Ken’s head, you would always be there to calm him down during his random wrathful outbursts.
• You always thought losing his temper was cute, but work was too hasty for him to flip shit every 5 seconds. Ken would always feel ashamed whenever his wife would calm him down whenever he got too wrathful.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! I SWEAR I’LL-!”
“Shh, Ken! You’re yelling again. The kids are sleeping!”
“…oh…sorry, honey.”
• Of course, you’re always there for your husband whenever he needs a hand. Being a father and a don of a mafia is never easy, so you’re always willing to switch places with Ken if it means that your hubby gets the rest that he deserves.
• Marrying Ken was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. In all of your undead years of living in The Gaslight District, you’ve never thought you’d find someone to finally complete you. Ken has always felt the same way.
• Your wedding night with him was absolutely unforgettable, too. Instead of saying wedding vows at a chapel, you and Ken completed your vows by bombing the building of the rivaling gangs. You still remember how the remains of the victims rained down upon you and Ken while you two kissed, nearly staining your wedding dress.
• The honeymoon was even better. You two nearly spent the entire day gushing over one another and loudly bumping hips (much to Mud’s dismay). In bed, in the car, on the kitchen table, in the shower, even on the floor. Ken was always rough with you and you loved it.
• Ken knows how much of a hold he has on you and he loves it. To his deep and attractive voice, his handsome strongfat body, and his loving personality. This delicious man leaves you weak to the knees with the littlest effort.
• You also tend to do the same to him, only unintentionally. Wearing his favorite perfume makes him more clingy to you than ever, soothing him with your sweet voice leaves him all flustered, and bending over while at work can guarantee that he’ll leave a hard smack on your ass.
• Ken has a secret little hobby of flustering you out of nowhere. Watching you perk up and blush by his words really strokes his ego.
“You know, Ken. Considering how much beefy you were back in the day I’m not surprised you stretched your old clothes out!”
“Heh, that’s not the only thing I’ve stretched out, hon...”
“O-Oh, my…”
• The last thing you expected was starting a family with Ken. Sure, kids are great and parenting was a beautiful yet, difficult thing, but you never really saw yourself being a mother, considering how violent your life is.
• Although it has been hard for you to decide, you immediately changed your mind when you first saw Breadhead and then Mel as babies. Two beautiful bundles of joy that you would destroy the world for.
• When Breadhead was first born, you and Ken were all over him. Your firstborn son, fresh out the oven, joyfully being held in a bundle by his new tearful parents.
“Oh, Ken! He’s perfect! Look at his cute little bread head…”
“I know, look at him! Our son! Our little roll of joy…”
• After you and Ken became parents, you began to stay behind at the Butcher Shop to take care of baby Breadhead. Ken and Mud were bummed out that you couldn’t go with them, but someone has to babysit.
• Your favorite memory of Breadhead is when he first ate a Rotling in one bite when he was 3. You still have a picture of that moment.
• Watching Breadhead grow up was a wild but enjoyable experience. From his first steps, his first word, and his first kill, you were nothing but a sweet and loving parent to him. Hence, why he became such a mama’s boy.
• But when Mel came into the family, so much has changed in your life. You weren’t fully aware what kind of bad blood Ken had with the Virtues and he never really wanted to talk about it. You remembered how shocked you were when Ken arrived at the shop with the human baby in his arms.
• Like others, you were fearful of the legend of the human child that would end The Black Hand’s curse of immortality throughout The Gaslight District. You first had thoughts of getting rid of Mel out of panic, but you then stopped yourself after seeing her for the first time.
• You remembered how her small pale head poked out of the bundle she was wrapped in with her precious round red eyes looking up at you in wonder. This beautiful human baby girl gazed at you with no fear regardless of your deathly appearance and immediately your panic was replaced with love.
• Ken was unsure whether or not he could trust you with the secret that Mel is the human, but when you slowly walked up to him, with you’re eyes glued to baby Mel, relief was what he nearly expected.
“(Y/N), please just-“
“…She’s beautiful…”
“…I knew I could trust you.”
• Words couldn’t describe how relieved and overjoyed Ken was when you agreed to keep the secret with him without hesitation. You two both knew that he couldn’t carry that burden alone and you completely moved by the fact that he believed that he could trust you with such a thing. You and Ken became much closer while raising Mel.
• Unlike Breadhead, Mel would always want to spend more time with Ken, but unfortunately he would always go on missions with Mud and Breadhead so she was mostly stuck with you in the Butcher Shop.
• Mel barely admits it, but she thinks you’re way cooler than Ken. As much as a daddy’s girl she is she can’t get enough of you being badass. Especially the time where she watched you traumatize the hell out of a creep.
• Ken absolutely loves it when you and Mel have precious mother-daughter moments together. Nothing makes his heart burst more than seeing his two favorite girls having a great time together.
• Ken nearly cried tears of joy when he watched you two slaughter a gang of Rotlings trying to rob the store with absolute glee together. When the entire gang was practically mincemeat, you and Mel’s similar deranged laughs echoed through shop as Ken heart melted at the sight of his wife and daughter together.
• Like mother, like daughter, right?
“Ken, are you crying, mate?”
“With pride, Mud…with pride…”
• Even though your marriage is perfect, it’s not unheard of you two getting into fights. Usually it happens when it comes to regarding Mel’s safety from The Gaslight District. Of course, it would never get physical though.
• The outcome of these fights would never be pretty, but in the end, you and Ken would always make up and apologize for the conflict you two put each other through. Parenting is never easy, but you two always needed each other to keep things straight.
“Look, (Y/N)…about the things I’ve said before I-“
“No, no. It’s alright, Ken. I know you want what’s best for Mel. It’s just that…it’s really difficult…”
“I know. But, all I know is that we’re together in this and I know you have my back…”
• You and Ken would always love to go back on old memories together. You two would usually sit on the couch looking at old pictures of the family and talk about your favorite old times together.
• Mel, Breadhead, and Mud would often join in on these conversations. Mud really took time to remember each and every moment you, him and Ken spent together. Of course, he would always poke fun at you two being gushy over one another.
• And everyday, you and Ken always take the time out of your day’s to remind each other how much you love one another. You two would usually find romantic ways to pass up the time whenever you two were alone, either in a sweet or spicy way.
•You can’t imagine yourself being with another man other than Ken. Your life has changed so much for the better with your amazing husband. As for Ken, he feels the happiest man on earth whenever he sees you every day. Proposing to you was the best choice he’s ever made in his life.
• As the killer couple of The Smiling Dead, you two have made quite a reputation together. Every Rotling in the Gaslight District knew better than to oppose one of you two, knowing that you have each other’s back always. A mafia couple so strong that not even death could bring you two part.
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rafesangelita · 6 months ago
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♡ WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW - FIVE :: finding you when he thought all hope was lost, rafe decides that this is the last time you two will ever be separated.. til’ death do you part.
warnings: lots of emotions lol, crying, angst, description of unprotected sex, fluff
links: series masterlist | prev chapter
wc: 1.7k
“how did you find me?” you’re pulling rafe inside by his shirt, his hands finding your hips as he stared at you incredulously. he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. he didn’t answer, instead he took your face in his hands, tears brimming his eyes as he rested his forehead on yours. “please never do that again.” you felt your heart break when his voice came out shaky, your own tears already rolling down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry—” rafe shut the door, clicking the lock shut before sitting you down on the motel bed.
“i got your note,” rafe made sure to keep your hand in his as he spoke, “i know that you left because you felt like you were doing the right thing.” he laughed bitterly, flashbacks of the look on his dad’s face when he saw that you didn’t take the money ran through his mind. “but i need you to know something else..” your heart was beating out of your chest, a million words sitting on the tip of your tongue. there was so many things you wanted to say, but you didn’t know where to start.
“doing the ‘right thing’ would never result in us being away from each other. you sacrificed everything and left behind everything you’ve ever known for me, so i made my own sacrifices too.” just as you were going to question what he meant, he held up his hand, the gold ring that he once wore with the utmost pride was now gone. your eyes widened, your lips parting as you shook your head. “oh, rafe..” inspecting his fingers, you couldn’t help but run your digits over his palm, “what did you do? what did i do?”
regret pooled in your stomach. the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happened. “hey, look at me— you didn’t do a damn thing, alright? my dad didn’t take anything from me, i left it. the same way you walked away from everything, so did i.” your head shot up at his words. “you left it? the business, your family ring, everything?” rafe watched as the corner of your eyes became wet with tears, your chin wobbling slightly. “y/n,” he stroked the side of your face, “everything means absolutely nothing if i don’t have you by my side.” you swore you could’ve died right there.
rafe embraced you as you let out a sob, your hands clinging onto him as if he’d disappear from your grasp. “i’m so sorry i left!” you cried out into his chest, “i’ll never leave you again, i swear it!” your arms moved to wrap around his neck, your heart finally feeling full again. rafe shushed you, rubbing your back soothingly as you two cried in each other’s embrace. rafe knew it was now or never. everything that you two have been through— all the tears, all the scrutiny and pain, trials and tribulations, all the laughs, the sweet moments, the whispering of words in the dark, all of it was meant to lead up to this very moment.
rafe pulled away, taking both of your hands in his as he moved down to the floor— on one knee. sniffling, you watched with a confused gaze as rafe reached into his pocket. “i bought this ring the morning i first left your camper,” your eyes widened as he pulled out a small box, “you left one of your rings on the bathroom sink and i took it with me to get an accurate size on this one,” he laughed, “i thought i was crazy when i was there buying it from the jeweler, but it all makes sense now.” a small gasp left your lips when he opened the box, revealing a dainty diamond ring. “rafe..” your voice was barely above a whisper.
“marry me.”
his words cut through the air, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” a hint of a smile played on your lips as his eyes got lost in your own. “marry me,” he repeated, “you fulfilled wedding vows since the very beginning. ‘for better, for worse.’ you and me made decisions, we let go of things despite how painful it was, we did it for each other,” rafe swallowed thickly. ‘for richer, for poorer.’ you never cared about how much money i had, you welcomed me into your camper and we made the best of it,” he rose his eyebrows suggestively, making a giggle fall from your lips at the memories of you two getting tangled in your bed.
tightening your grip on his hand, your smile faded when he broke down, his shoulders shaking slightly as his head hung in complete surrender. “you didn’t give up on me when you had every reason to. ‘in sickness and in health.’ you stuck by me when i was at the height of my addiction, and i could never thank you enough for never losing faith in me. i yelled at you, i talked to you harshly— fuck, i hate myself for that. i was in the worst shape i had ever been in, and you still looked at me as if i hung the stars up for you. you loved me at my worst, and brought me back up to be my best.” now you were crying too, small hiccups emitting from your throat.
“y/n, will you please do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?” rafe glanced up at you, the expression on your face unreadable. “of course i will.” that was all rafe needed before he slid the beautiful ring on your finger, both of you pulling each other into a searing kiss. with his lips still connected to yours, rafe took a seat on the bed, pulling you on top of his lap effortlessly. you two stayed like this until the tears on your cheeks dried, both of you growing needy for something more than just rushed kisses and lingering touches.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips, “i never want to be away from you ever again.” rafe’s eyes were now clouded with something else other than tears— lust. “stop saying sorry. nothing else matters right now.” rafe’s fingers slipped underneath your top, your eyes fluttering shut as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. groaning at the taste of your skin, you gasped when he cupped you through the lacey material of your bra. being apart from one another was one thing, but not being able to hold, love, or touch each other was completely different.
“i’ve been staying at your camper for this past week, you wanna know why?” you moaned softly as he took your top off, humming a small ‘why?’ before you tugged at his shirt. “because it smells like you. the sheets, your pillows, everything, it all smelled like you and i needed to feel you close somehow.” you pulled away at the revelation, your hands coming up to cup cheeks. “please let me make it up to you..” your voice was so sweet, but the indication of your words was even sweeter. “oh, you will.” rafe nodded to himself, his hand coming up to unclasp your bra.
rafe laid you down and worshipped your body as if it was your first time together all over’s again. not a single inch of your body went untouched, the man above you whispering praises again your skin. you two laughed, cried, kissed, and hugged all while he rocked inside of you, his fingers intertwined with yours as he continuously placed kisses to your knuckles. he was gentle, yet so precise with his movements, you were easily gasping his name in no time. never looking away from each other once, you held eye contact while he spilled into you, his lips molding to yours as if they were made just for you.
“i love you.” you smiled softly as his breath fanned against your cheek. pulling him flush against your chest, you wrapped your legs around his waist in order to keep him between your thighs. “i love you, too.” rafe rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, his large palms rubbing soft circles into your skin. you two stayed like this until he pecked the corner of your lips, rolling to your side before taking you in his arms. with your back to him, both of you admired your ring as if you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “rafe?” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips when he hummed.
“i can’t believe it..” rafe trailed kisses along the back of your shoulder, his hand holding up your own. “i can,” he started, “i knew this day was going to come, i just wish i did it sooner.” you turned around in his embrace, running your index finger along his jaw. “you never answered my question earlier.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “what? how i found you?” nodding, you let your eyes trail over his features as he explained himself. “well i searched the whole island, and when people told me they hadn’t see you anywhere i figured that meant you left it altogether.”
your eyes widened at his words. “you looked for me all this time?” you already felt bad for leaving in the first place, but now you felt even worse. “of course i did. i went to the icecream parlor and asked around for you there, and then i went to the country club, but everyone just kept saying the same thing.” you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. “i looked up the closest motel and this place showed up, so now i’m here.” rafe was unbelievable. “i need to get you a wedding band!” you gasped, the realization dawning on you once you stroked his empty fingers.
“i already got one. it’s at the camper.” you stared at him blankly. “rafe cameron.” he smiled when you said his full name, finding amusement in the way your voice sounded serious all of a sudden. “i mean it when i say i thought everything through already,” he kissed you, “i never really understood what people said, but now i get it.” smiling against his lips, you looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you mean? what did they say?” rafe cradled your head, those blue eyes of his dripping pure adoration for you as he spoke.
“when you know, you know.”
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annievrse · 6 months ago
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i'll crawl home to you
trafalgar law x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: it's hozier so religious themes, reader is referred to as an 'angel' and a 'goddess'.
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I've done terrible things in the past...
It was always an excuse, a justification, a way for Trafalgar Law to convince himself he deserved all the terrible things that happened to him. He was a man of solitude, preferring his own company to that of others, and if others wanted to stay beside him, it was their funeral.
It was the first thing he told you, in the back alley of a marketplace, his blank hands grasping bags of meat. He was young, in his late teens when he asked you to join his crew. You seemed like a critical addition to the Heart Pirates, your expertise and skills in an area he hadn't considered essential.
It was a whim, something he hadn't discussed with Bepo, Shachi, or Penguin, but Law wanted to make this call without their commentary. It felt right to ask you, like the strings of fate were pulling the air from his lungs and puppetting his lips.
It was briefly surprising when you agreed to join, despite his initial warning, and he felt his heart flip in a way it hadn't before. You never questioned him like you should have, but, when you're young and eager to leave your small island, any out is enticing.
All I care about is who you are in the present...
Trafalgar Law didn't know it at the time, but you'd nestled yourself beside his heart and vowed to remain there for eternity.
When the Navy had come looking for Trafalgar Law, famed pirate of the Worst Generation, there was no way he'd go down without a fight.
The Polar Tang is alive with chaos, the air thick with clouds of apprehension and charged by panic. The storm raging inside the submarine is nothing compared to the one occurring outside.
Law stands on the deck, his hand outstretched and the sea shrouded with his power. Three Navy ships surround his beloved Tang, but none had come close enough to harm it, and by extension, you.
Against his wishes, you loom in the doorway, the darkness of the entrance a veil. It doesn't take much for Law to notice your presence, and when his chest tightens and aches, he knows you're watching.
It used to alarm him that his blood-soaked hands didn't scare you, and now you watch with pride. His mind was a whirlwind of crippling anxiety and debilitating despair at the thought that his sins could imprison him, forbid him from worshipping you the way you deserve. But even if they did, he'd claw his way from hell to be beside you again.
"You're not meant to be here," He says lowly, gaze calculating. "Go back inside."
"You need help, more ships are coming from the south."
Law scoffs, his anger toward the Navy growing tenfold. The pulsing blue dome retracts and the floating Marine vessels fall into the sea, the men aboard flailing into the water. "Submerge."
You step aside as Law approaches, his footsteps are heavy against the metal. The Tang shutters once he pushes the door closed, and the familiar sensation of your stomach rising has your hands latching onto Law's forearm.
"You okay?" You whisper, voice soft. If Law didn't know any better he'd think you were an angel.
His piercing eyes assess you for injuries he knows you don't have and then he sighs. Law leans down, his lips a ghost over your own.
"Better now that you are."
You smile and press your mouth against his. Law swears he could get a toothache from kissing you.
"C'mon," You say, walking backwards and tugging him along with you. "Let me check you over."
Law used to struggle to grasp your need to ensure he wasn't hurt after he wounded so many. Good and evil weren't two opposites that he would have contemplated in the past, considering his upbringing, but when he laid his eyes on you, he questioned whether the two thrived separately or could co-exist.
Can good live with evil when good knows all that evil has done? When evil is everything that good opposes? Law thought himself as inherently evil, but with good like you love him like he was not, he wasn't sure he knew the meanings or cared anymore.
Nothing matters but you.
"You seem to be fine," You mumble, pulling the thermometer out from under his tongue. "No fever."
"I am fine. No symptoms of illness or any injuries."
"Just making sure. You never know what could happen out there. What if I lost you—"
"Baby, not even death could separate us. I'd crawl out of the cold, dark earth to be with you. No need to worry."
The corners of your lips tilt up, and Law rests his palms on your cheeks. His touch is firm, and the look in your eye absolves him of any crimes—both a judge and a goddess.
Your hands press over his, and the added pressure of his skin on yours does little to satiate your need for his touch. He's not going anywhere without you.
He says your name like a prayer, his voice low and raw. "I love you."
You kiss his palm, gaze locked on his. "Don't think I wouldn't do the same."
Law sighs, his heart clenching. "You're not going in the ground on your own."
You don't think too much about his admission for your own sanity. "I love you."
Now, it wasn't an excuse. The things Law did in the past, and still do to ensure the safety of you and his crew, are something you admire. There's never good without evil, and as much as Law believes he is the latter, he is half your soul, and it is nothing but good.
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readreidsworld · 1 month ago
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Pedro Pascal x Reader
Summary: You and Pedro get married and build a life together
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Pedro had exactly one job don’t peek at your dress before the wedding.
He failed.
Or rather he tried to fail. Hovered outside your dressing area more than once. Got caught twice.
“Pedro,” your stylist laughed, blocking the doorway with a makeup brush, “she’s not ready.”
“Can I just hear her voice? I swear it calms my heart rate.”
You poked your head out with an amused smile. “Baby, go rehearse your vows.”
“I did,” he groaned. “I’ve rehearsed them so many times, I could deliver them in six languages. “Then go hug your sister or drink water. Something bride-adjacent.”
He sighed dramatically but obeyed, muttering, “This is psychological warfare,” as he walked away.
The moment he saw you at the end of the aisle, the world fell away.
You walked slow, heart thudding in your chest, veil trailing behind you, eyes locked on his. He looked like he couldn’t breathe.
Pedro’s lips parted like he was about to say something, but nothing came out.
His hand came up to cover his mouth, and yeah he cried.
Not loud. Not messy. Just quiet, stunned tears at the sight of you.
“Wow,” he whispered as you reached him. “You’re how are you real?”
“You’re gonna make me cry,” you choked, laughing and blinking rapidly.
“Too late,” he murmured, wiping your tear gently with his thumb. “We’re a mess.”
“A very beautiful, expensive mess,” you whispered.
The vows were perfect. Honest. A little funny. Very you. When you both said “I do,” it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Pedro kissed you like he’d waited a lifetime.
You were pretty sure he had.
You escaped to a tiny seaside villa on the Amalfi Coast.
It was warm and golden, quiet and undisturbed. Pedro wore linen shirts and went barefoot everywhere. You lived in oversized sunglasses and sundresses and spent every day with no plans.
You made breakfast together. Napped under palm trees. Read books with your legs tangled on the couch. He kissed your shoulder every time he passed by.
One afternoon, you were lying on a hammock, reading, when he plopped down beside you with a lazy grin.
“Wanna know something?” he said, brushing your hair back.
“What?”
“I’m obsessed with you.”
You smiled. “You told me that yesterday.”
“I need to keep reminding you. In case you forget.”
“You’re literally wearing a shirt that says ‘Husband’ right now.”
He looked down at his chest. “And I’ll be wearing it forever.”
You laughed, leaning into him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
That night, you danced barefoot in the kitchen while pasta boiled and the sun set pink and slow through the windows. Pedro held you close, humming something under his breath, one hand splayed over the small of your back like he never wanted to let go.
“Mi esposa,” he whispered.
You closed your eyes.
Mine
The Amalfi air was heavy with heat, thick with salt, and scented with blooming citrus. The sun was just dipping below the cliffs when Pedro found you on the balcony.
You were leaning against the railing in one of his linen shirts bare legs, wild hair, skin kissed golden by the sun.
He stared.
“You know,” he said, voice low and rough, “you’re gonna kill me walking around like that.”
You turned, lazy smile tugging at your lips. “It’s your shirt.”
“Exactly. My shirt. My wife.” His voice dipped as he walked over, slow and unhurried. “Mine.”
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, then another just beneath your jaw. His hands came to rest on your waist familiar, possessive.
“Pedro,” you murmured, tilting your head back slightly as his lips dragged along your neck. “We haven’t even had dinner.”
“I’ll eat later,” he whispered, grinning against your skin. “Right now I’m busy.”
He scooped you up before you could sass him again laughing as you gasped, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He kissed you like you were something sacred and sinful all at once, walking you back inside without once breaking contact.
You landed on the bed in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter.
He hovered over you, dark eyes scanning your face with reverence. “I can’t believe I married you.”
“Believe it,” you whispered. “Now come show me how much you love your wife.”
And oh, he did.
Soft and slow at first fingers tracing every inch like he had all the time in the world. He kissed down your stomach, whispered things in Spanish that made your breath hitch, murmured “so beautiful” like a prayer against your skin.
The room filled with the sound of crashing waves outside and the kind of soft moans that only come from feeling completely adored.
Later, with your body tangled under the sheets and his chest pressed to your back, he wrapped an arm tightly around your waist.
“I’m never going to stop touching you,” he whispered against your shoulder, voice hoarse.
You turned in his arms, pressing a sleepy kiss to his chest. “Good. I’d be offended if you tried.”
He chuckled low and warm, thumb brushing lazy circles into your hip.
“I love you, cariño,” he whispered.
You smiled against his skin. “I know. You prove it every night
It started with saltines.
You were halfway through a bag at 8:00 a.m., wrapped in Pedro’s hoodie, when he walked into the kitchen, paused, and blinked.
“You okay?” he asked, eyeing the crackers and your pale face.
“I think…” You hesitated, then met his eyes. “I might be.”
He blinked. “Might be what?”
You held up a pregnancy test box.
His entire soul left his body.
Pedro, usually calm and charismatic and smooth under pressure, became unhinged in the most adorable way.
“Wait” he said, voice pitching up an octave. “You think you’re pregnant? Like with a baby?”
You nodded slowly.
He sat down. Hard.
“I need water? A pillow? CPR?”
You laughed, tearful and nervous. “I haven’t even taken the test yet. I wanted to wait for you.”
He immediately launched into action. “Okay. Yes. Let’s go. Take it. I’ll be outside the door. I’ll hold your hand if you want. Or not. I don’t want to make it weird. Is this weird? Are we ready? I think I’m going to throw up in a supportive way.” You kissed him, short and sure. “Just breathe. I love you. That part’s constant.”
Five minutes later, you opened the bathroom door and held up the test.
Two lines.
Positive.
Pedro stared at it, then at you. Then his face crumpled.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, stepping forward and gently cradling your face. “We made a little us.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Then yours.
You both sank to the bathroom floor in a heap of laughter, tears, and an unspoken vow to love this tiny future human with every ounce of your souls. Pedro became insufferable in the best way.
He wouldn’t let you lift anything. Not even your coffee mug.
“You’re literally growing bones in your body. You’re on rest duty.”
He bought seven kinds of prenatal vitamins, built the crib at 2 a.m. just because he was “too excited to sleep,” and downloaded a baby tracker app that gave you both weekly fruit comparisons.
“You’re an avocado today,” he told your bump one morning, kissing it softly. “A delicious little avocado.”
You snorted. “Are you flirting with the fetus?”
“Obviously. I flirt with anything that shares your DNA.”
By month five, your belly popped and Pedro melted.
He’d lift your shirt just to talk to it. Constantly. Random conversations. Love letters. Full bedtime stories.
“This is your mamá,” he whispered one night, curled beside you, one hand on your belly. “She’s funny and smart and the most beautiful person in the world. If you take after her, you’re gonna be perfect.”
You teared up. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”
He smiled and kissed your stomach. “Join the club.”
It hit him for real one night in bed.
You were asleep, curled up with a hand resting on your bump. Pedro was watching you, gently stroking your hair, when the baby kicked for the first time.
His eyes widened.
Then he lost it.
He laughed, gasped, cried all at once his hand frozen in place, heart pounding like a drum.
“Hey,” he whispered to your bump, voice shaky with wonder. “Hi, baby. I’m your dad.”
You stirred, half-asleep, and reached for him.
“Kick?” you mumbled.
He nodded, pressing your hand to the spot.
Another thump.
And just like that, Pedro Pascal fell in love all over again.
With the baby. With you.
With the life you’d built together
The first contraction hit at 3:17 a.m.
You groaned in your sleep, hand clenching the sheets, and Pedro sat up instantly eyes wide, curls a mess, completely alert despite having just been snoring.
“What what is it? Are you okay? Is it the baby? Is it gas?”
“Definitely not gas,” you gritted out.
He launched into motion.
“Okay. Bag. I packed the bag. Shoes. Where are your shoes? I’ll carry you. No, I’ll wheel you. We don’t have a wheelchair shit, why don’t we have a wheelchair?!”
You grabbed his wrist and squeezed. “Breathe, husband.”
He looked down at you, wild-eyed. “You’re in labor and you’re telling me to breathe?”
You nodded.
He exhaled shakily, then kissed your forehead. “Let’s go have a baby.”
The hospital room was warm and buzzing with quiet chaos soft beeping monitors, nurses shuffling, the low hum of the world shifting around you.
Pedro never left your side. Not once.
He held your hand through every contraction, pressed kisses to your damp forehead, whispered sweet nonsense in your ear like “you’re doing so good, baby, I’m right here, I’ve got you.”
When the pain got worse, when your eyes blurred with tears, he wiped them away and whispered “I wish I could take this for you” like a prayer.
You didn’t say it then, but you knew if he could he would have. In a heartbeat.
Hours passed. Time bent and blurred.
Then suddenly it was happening real, raw, unstoppable.
“Okay, sweetheart,” the doctor said, “on the next one, you’re gonna push.”
Pedro stood beside you, gripping your hand tight, eyes locked on yours.
“You can do this,” he whispered. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
“I hate you,” you cried.
“I know,” he nodded, already crying. “I still love you so much.”
And then One push. Two.
A cry not yours.
Tiny. Piercing. New.
The room changed.
You collapsed back against the pillows, exhausted and shaking. Pedro stared at the tiny, crying bundle in the doctor’s arms like he’d just seen God.
“Oh my god,” he choked. “Oh my god. That’s that’s ours. That’s our baby.”
Tears streamed down his face, unstoppable.
You watched them place the baby on your chest, watched Pedro reach out with trembling hands to touch the tiniest fingers.
“Hi,” he whispered, voice broken and full of awe. “I’m your dad.”
Later, in the soft quiet of a hospital room bathed in sunrise, Pedro held your baby to his chest shirtless, skin to skin, eyes wet and shining.
You watched from the bed, completely overwhelmed.
He looked at you with pure, stunned devotion.
“You made this,” he said softly. “You made this little miracle.”
“We made them,” you whispered.
He leaned over, kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips. “You are the love of my life.”
Then he kissed your baby’s head and whispered, “And you? You’re my heart walking outside my body now.”
And just like that in a quiet room, with your new family everything in the world made sense
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cherryredstars · 1 year ago
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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink
A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!
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You know there is a process.
And you know this isn't it.
There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.
And yet...
You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.
But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.
You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.
Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.
He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.
You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.
"Got to make sure it takes."
Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?
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Part 2 Part 3
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melrosing · 1 year ago
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So many vows...they make you swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protect the innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the gods. Obey the laws. It's too much. No matter what you do, you're forsaking one vow or the other.
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enyaliuswrites · 5 months ago
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➽ Things Rafayel would do as a lover
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Rafayel is the type of lover that will paint or sketch you a lot. Like A LOT. Mate has multiple books worth of drawings and paintings of you, either getting his references from imagination (he’s such a god at drawing frfr), a picture, or real life. But, he’ll always say that it’s not perfect. (It is in your eyes)
Usually, you’ll find yourself doing work or studying in front of Rafayel as he quickly props a easel and starts painting or grabs a sketchbook and pencil and starts sketching. He’ll make random retorts to stop you from your responsibilities,
“Come on, cutie, let’s do something fun together. You don’t have to do work, right? It’s so boring, I can see how much you don't wanna do it.”
However, after you ignore him and actually start doing work he’ll shuffle around and bring his art equipment. Once in a while he’ll say something like,
“Your facial expression is really cute when you're so focused.” 
or, “Hey, don't move, I’m nearly finished, just a liitttleee bit more.” 
If you’re focusing for a long time, he sees how stressed you are and he’ll boop your nose or cheek, smearing paint, charcoal or pencil led. Then, he’ll lift you up and force you to relax with him. Whether that be just lying down together on the floor in a peaceful quietness that is later broken by him going on a rant about whatever it is that happened that day, “I tripped over a paintbrush and I’m pretty sure I sprained my ankle for a second.”, or it be getting something to eat together.
Rafayel is the type of lover that will never press hard even if he sees something that's bothering you. He’ll wait until you’re ready but he’ll try his best to distract you or to lift your mood in the best way he can.
He’ll most definitely self-declare himself as your fashion consultant, taking control of your wardrobe and even buying more clothes every time you meet him, “Just a little gift, cutie.” 
One time you made a blushing Rafayel admit that he wanted to match clothes with you and that's why he bought you so many clothes. From that day onwards you guys started to coordinate outfits whenever you would meet.
If you’re a university student, Rafayel is the type of lover that will offer to guest speak at your university just so he can keep an eye on you, catching a glimpse of you and rushing over to see you. 
He’ll beg you to not go to your classes and hang out with him and even when you remind him that you can't do that he’ll pout and probably sulk at the bottom of your campus pool for a couple of minutes as you beg him to stop since a crowd’s starting to gather.
Rafayel is the type of lover that brings those disposable old cameras everywhere you go together and snap pictures of you when you’re unaware to print them out and stick them on his wall or a photo album afterwards.
Rafayel is the type of lover that makes handmade gifts. From paintings, sketches, scrapbooks, accessories from seashells. He’ll give them to you even when there’s no occasion, 
“You can't just expect me not to make you something when we haven't seen each other for so long.”
“Rafayel, we saw each other yesterday.”
And when there is an occasion he goes all out, a pop-up scrapbook, a corkboard with pictures of you two together and some of himself (“So you don't miss me too much, cutie.”) and a painting of you. Honestly, he gives so many gifts you swear that you can't store them all. 
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A/N: Rafayel is such a sarcastic, drama queen, but honestly he's so much more than that. Art creds: Fireworks Vow - Love and Deepspace Dividers by @omi-resources
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