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#be not afraid. the drawing can’t hurt you
savagewildnerness · 2 days
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E12: Don’t be afraid, just start the tape:
So, first of all - what magnificent acting from everyone in this episode.  Oh my!  They’re all utterly wonderful!  I’m going to point it out at certain points as I go, but oh my - they are all wondrous!  And the language - every line of this episode mattered!
I found it interesting to reflect on vampire versus human perspective on both life and immortality in this episode - Daniel perceives immortality as an opportunity to seize existence eternally and truly LIVE life, while the vampires themselves dwell in existential malaise…. And is THIS that makes Daniel fascinating..?
Daniel ‘grabbing’ syntax - the bit where Louis refers to himself in the third person… now we have to  rewatch the entire show with this in mind, to see when else Louis or Armand referred to themselves this way…?!
“Someone half in love with an easeful death” - How Louis refers to Armand’s victims when he can’t find an evildoer are the exact words Armand later says to Daniel
Louis has more of an ease with himself in San Francisco, while at the same time being the most lost we have ever seen him.  He’s more at ease with his nature - in his posture; in killing… but not in all ways - clearly!
“Cocaine’s a fun boy’s drug.  I’m not fun.” LOL @ Louis, the truther!
Louis: “Do you want to now?” To Dubai-Daniel.  Audience: YES PLEASE!  Off you GO!
Louis’ sheer check shirt is TOO GOOD.  I love it.  I want it.
IS one of them the Zodiac killer though?  We need to look at that victim list from earlier than 1973…
“You were lonely, Louis, you were floundering…”
Jacob’s acting - he’s so great in this episode, but I especially adored the way he eviscerates Lestat!  Jacob is hilarious!  And it’s funny, like it is in the books!  So over the top… Louis leaning in to the tape like his words are weapons to lure Lestat towards him.  It’s so redolent to what Lestat did in creating his Come to Me recording with Antoinette’s voice… except the opposite - Lestat created a loving thing, but used his lovers voice on the loving thing to anger Louis… Louis twists Lestat into the most spiteful thing and I absolutely love that they included the concept in the books that would hurt Lestat the most of all - when Louis says that his piano playing is emotionless.  “He played without an iota of feeling.. with all the emotional acuity of a MONSTER!” Yeah Louis, THAT will draw Lestat out…
And while I’m on the note of music - how interesting the music in this episode… that single-note hypnotic piano pedal that keeps coming back over and over again - anticipatory…. The meagre, fractured strings… utterly unlike the music in this series outside this episode
And Louis, just wanting Daniel to agree… getting him high ought to make him more acquiescent… and yet, he gets more than he bargained for… Daniel still notices subtext in what Louis is saying and doing, and it intrigues Louis… for what do these eternal beings truly want, but to be entirely understood…? 
Daniel pointing out Lestat was Louis’ first love, even amid Louis’ trash talk
Daniel “I’m with her…. Get off that bench, brother.”
Daniel’s confidence in his SELF when asking for the dark gift - the confidence of a truly young man.  And How great is Luke - let’s say it now.  He is SO Eric.  His fear, his bravado, how scared for him you feel
The way Dubai-Daniel trusts Louis here, showing him the laptop
Armand: What if it was published?  You don’t have enough to fear from Paris?
“You are so BORING. Colourless.  Flavourless.  Dull. Dull. Dull nights, dull weeks, dull months, dull as f… Suffocation by the world’s softest, beigest pillow… the ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting than decades with you.”  OK but tell us what you REALLY feel, Louis, LOLOLOLOLOL
Armand’s mocking impression of Louis “Oh, it’s so hard to be me!!!” And Louis retaliating.  God, I LOVE their argument!  A perfect mix of awful, painful… and hilarious!!!  (Imagine Lestat laughing…)
The name unuttered in our home for 23 years
“She didn’t love you.  Not like he did.  Not like I have.”  They’re going there with Claudia!
“Can you hear her?  She’s calling me…”. Claudia’s ghost is clearly what calls Louis to going into the sun and I wonder if this is foreshadowing and if that image of Claudia in the sunlight could be Claudia’s ghost at the end of the series, but this time we can see her… again calling Louis…?
“The floor slants slightly North. The blood flowed that way.” This line is repeated a few times by Armand… and I didn’t understand why, but it felt important.  Did anyone understand why.
Gosh the language in this episode is beautiful - poetic, play-like, and so much of Anne’s words.
“He’s fine.  He’s just one.” Echoes of Armand telling Lestat how unharmed Nicki was….
“He confessed his innermost secrets to you” - the betrayal of emotional intimacy
“You’re going to teach me how to be fascinating.”  OK… now is the moment.  Love letter to Assad Zaman and to Armand.  It is just heartbreaking the way he needs something from Daniel here.  In this episode, Armand saves Louis’ life.  He is a conduit for Louis’ true love’s voice.  In fact, he does so much in love for Louis… And yet he is told he is boring.
The irony is that Armand IS special!!!  He is absolutely the most complex vampire… he just doesn’t understand how to love or be loved… and Louis is NOT his "one"! But he is SO fascinating!  And special.  All of the edits to Radiohead's Creep PLEASE!!!!
I also find it WONDROUS in a show about vampires - where vampires are always a metaphor to The Outsider... yet... in art, The Outsider is often portrayed in in my opinion - an unrealistic way, as in "actually the outsider is infinitely special, really!", BUT IN ARMAND, the writers have given us a truly actually special character who truly feels like many outsiders do - that they are irrevocably flawed and there is something significant truly missing in them (us) - AND is told by the person he loves SO much he would literally be a pathway to their other love that he is boring and not special and not enough... THAT is relatable! (Even though nobody has told me this, as I am simply isolated, personally! Yet, still, I feel it!)
“A splinter of coldness in you.  Is that what makes you fascinating?”  “Even his transgressions are ordinary.”
The way Armand looks at Daniel when he says “Do you want to hear my story?” - “An eager black hole.”  Armand seeking if it is how Daniel listens that makes him fascinating to Louis…
Armand communicating to Lestat “I won’t say a word.”  What is Lestat telling Armand here about where he is?
Their feet in the stones
“All I talked about him was trash.”  “Yes, you said that.  But why?  It’s not exactly how you’ve talked about him to me.  Did I catch you in a fantasy?” A fantasy where Lestat reads Louis nasty embellishments and comes chasing after him again….
“This prison of empathy I’ve locked you in.” Gosh, I love the language
“I am your maker’s voice: Louis, mon Cher.  You anted to say something to me? Why are you ill? What’s happened to you?  I love you Louis.  Tell him Armand.”
Armand really does this in such selfless love for Louis and of course Armand cannot bring himself to speak Lestat’s I love you to Louis.  It is too much.  Especially seeing as all Armand ever asked of Lestat was for Lestat to love *him*!  Oh Armand!  You deserve love!  
A final act of service
“You left me for death.”
Louis, using Daniel’s “And then…”
I am the quiet you have been longing for after all the garishness of life.  The way Armand eases Daniel into death.  Sensual.  Beautiful.  Terrible.  And Anne’s words.
Daniel saying how Armand redacted himself from his mind reminded me of Daniel saying “Disregard” to Armand’s input to the story at the start of the season
Armand did edit Louis and Daniel’s brains… but Louis was suicidal… so there was cause…
Louis’ anger at the end
Trial starting next episode…!
Assad: “Armand can’t ever relax with the truth”
Jacob in the post episode thing - saying he can’t think of a bigger betrayal than rewriting the history of a person you love and that it makes him angry… referring to what Armand does to Louis… when IN THIS SAME EPISODE, that’s literally what Louis does to Lestat, albeit not in Lestat’s mind… but still… there are similarities!! Haha
Lestat is my boy, and Sam IS Lestat… and everyone in this episode is so incredible - but ASSAD'S ARMAND.  Armand was always my second favourite vampire, but Assad - I do not understand how you are making me love Armand even MORE!  Be MORE evil, Armand.  And more tragic.  And more loving.  Be every thing you are.  I know you are fascinating!!!!!  Every episode, I love Assad even more.
Finally: reviewers were wrong - this is ABSOLUTELY the foundation of The Devil’s Minion.  From horror, grows love.  Though this episode is mainly created, there is SO MUCH of Anne Rice in it and it feels 100% her.  He words, her feelings.  Her gothic romance.  ADORE.
Oh and PS, it's both hilarious and totally tragic that sexy Loumand times can't truly happen until Armand has literally WIPED Lestat from Louis' mind, hahahahahaha! Poor Armand. Obviously he's monstrous in this episode. And I love you for every ounce of your monstrosity and all of the pain beneath it!!!
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nsfwarros1 · 2 days
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do you think a limit will be reached for gortash' size? he's really losing his mobility now, is that something the either of them would want? i know health isnt a factor for them and i imagine cas would want gort as big as he could possibly get him. narratively gortash giving up his entire self to cas in the form of immobility is so interesting
hmm so the limit of Gortash’s size really is just the fact that canonically they just don’t live for long enough that he gets completely immobile even if he comes close, which is also the reason why I doubt I’ll draw him casually immobile since it’d always be an AU or an alternate timeline really. But generally saying... no Gortash doesn’t stop gaining weight it just more or less slows down due to his size. I’ve mentioned this a few times but Gortash shows his devotion to Cas in this way but at this point it’s also the fact that Gortash doesn’t know what else to give him. Like it’s very much a “Gortash is afraid of Cas slipping away if he ever manages to fuck this up” that also causes Gortash to intentionally lean into it more and even try on purpose. It’s multiple things causing this to be stronger now really, like Cas having left before and Gortash having had to experience the coldness of Cas after a fight where he just didn’t want to touch or feed Gortash like that anymore as well as Gortash slowly admitting to himself that Cas is just… greater, in a way. This never mattered to Cas really but there is something about Gortash getting over himself to the point where he needs to admit he’s just a mortal without any insane magical skill or something similar compared to Cas. so all in all he’s not really afraid to lose his mobility if it came to it
The other thing is also that the bigger Gortash gets and the more unable he is to do many things by himself the more he knows that he can trust Cas. Gortash not even really having to communicate it (because he still has a certain pride when it comes to things) but Cas knowing and doing it anyways. Things like getting around but also stuff like needing Cas to bathe him and take care of his skin or needing Cas to help him with pains etc, as much as an asshole Cas is this is never something he brought up or didn't do whatsoever
I also wanna mention that health isnt a factor yes however still only in a vitals way - he still definitely suffers from the weight physically (like his joints and other pains) but he never really cared about it because Gortash very much sees it as a necessity to keep Cas’ love, if that makes sense. Not even in a “hes gonna leave if I don’t get bigger” way thats not what I mean it’s more like a… you can’t love a devil deeply without it hurting way🤕
As for Cas, Cas doesn't know limits and Cas' jealousy and possessiveness will always outweigh whatever sane thought there might be about how he actually does enjoy things that require Gortash to be mobile, so that's just that😖
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luckycaricature · 2 months
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“I could never draw, I can only draw stick figures” mickey mouse is a stick figure. what is your point.
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peachsayshi · 1 year
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cc x·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ thinking about...reader trying to break up with yandere gojo  
minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; dub con; lovesick gojo & he’s obsessive/toxic about it; he’s mean but yummy, okay?; size kink (ish?); gojo showing off his strength; sex without protection
notes: I had this written as an idea right after I wrote my hc’s for the jjk men in their yandere version. twylm readers, please forgive me for not posting the next chapter. I am working on it but I am really struggling - I had the worst burn out after the last chapter, and have been having a hard time trying to get back into the story >.< 
wc: 1,228
gojo plays with the hem of your skirt - the flat expression on his face telling you that he’s listening but appears unbothered by your statement. you can see the annoyance in his eyes, the irritation that you would say something so ridiculous in the middle of a make out session. 
his hands find the back of your thighs and with one swift motion he pulls you over his long legs so you’re hovering above his lap. the imbalance forces you to clutch onto his shirt with frustration, and he mindlessly reaches to undo his belt before tugging your underwear aside with his long, slender digits. 
“toru, are you listening to me?” you whisper in a small voice. 
“you want to take a break?” he repeats calmly, but those last two words are laced with disgust, barely slipping through his clenched teeth, and he lowers you down just enough for him to press the tip of his swollen cock against your slit. 
“I need to slow things down...” you breathe, lashes fluttering at the sensation from the contact. 
your thighs naturally start to tense up when he holds you there, and the pads of his fingers dig roughly into your hip to keep you in place. you hiss against the harsh touch, gazing down to find your lover pouting at you like a disappointed child.
any stranger would consider this an adorable expression with the way his big eyes widen while his brows upturn sorrowfully. 
to you, however, it was an entirely different message. 
“are you unhappy?” he asks, his words weighed down by hurt. 
a warm sensation travels up your calves as you try to maintain the pose and you shake your head no while squeezing him gently with reassurance. satoru flickers his attention back to the point of contact. your pelvis feels tight from holding this awkward position, and the ache to have him inside you naturally makes the space between your legs pulse with need. 
satoru gojo has given you everything and more. there is no reason for you to be unhappy. 
he made sure of that. 
“okay,” he confirms with a sigh, one palm moving to grope the curve of your ass while the other stabilizes your leg as he draws you down his length. “do you not love me?” 
a hard lump forms in your throat. 
you’re careful never to actually say those words to him. 
satoru’s devotion consumes your entire your soul - you can’t help but feel like you would be making a deal with a devil if you decided to admit your true feelings. 
you managed to keep his peace of mind this far by reassuring him with deep, promising kisses and strong acknowledgements of his feelings. 
technically you aren’t lying, but the reality is that you’re afraid to love him...and of what your love does to him.
giving him another silent reply, you nod your head as your fear creeps up the back of your spine. the only relief you find is the stretch between your legs, and your lips part into a circle as satoru gives himself to you inch by glorious inch.
your skirt flaps over you both, concealing him buried inside you. he arches forward to kiss your jaw, his large hands finding your breasts and he massages them over your fitted tank. 
he delicately trails his fingers down your waist to latch onto your hips once more. “then why...” he murmurs into your neck, “do you want to take a break?” 
your hand finds the back of his head, a moan leaving your parted lips when you feel him lick a stripe up the column before lightly nipping at your earlobe. 
“it’s just...” you gasp, feeling flowers of heat bloom in all the places he’s touching you, “I just feel like we are getting ahead of o-ourselves..ah...” 
he rocks your hips back and forth, moving at such a languid pace that you can’t help but clench your thighs around his own. your fingers curl around the snowy threads of his white hair, tugging at it gently before pulling his face away so you can meet his eyes. 
he looks smug - but he always does because he knows that you’re just addicted to him as he is to you. 
“isn’t that what we want?” he questions, the corner of his mouth twitching into a lazy smile as he takes off your top and unfastens your bra, “we’re already so perfect...” 
“satoru,” you whine, “that’s not the point-” 
this time he ruts his pelvis upward, interrupting your thoughts as he hits you at the right spot that makes your eyes disappear into the back of your head. he leans against the chair, maintaining full eye contact with you as he casually lifts you up before dropping you back down on his cock. “just want to make you m’pretty wife, is all...fuck you like this every single night...” 
you bite your bottom lip, frustrated with how wet he’s making you with his words. your body subconsciously succumbs to his demands and you slowly start bouncing up and down over his length. 
“that’s right, angel,” satoru grunts with approval, his hungry hands grab your ass roughly, and you squeak when you feel a slight sting from behind as the sound of his palm slapping against your skin echoes around the room. “see? I’m making you feel s’fucking good, your pussy’s so wet f’me...just for me...” 
when his mouth finds yours, you know you’ve lost the battle. his scalding kisses leave your lips swollen but you still search for him out of desperation to feel the fire. he’s reminding you how hard it would be to let go of him, reiterating that there is no man in this world who could ever love you as much he does. you feel silly for bringing this up, questioning your own trepidations about him and wondering if this is simply you sabotaging what you already have. 
you are in a daze from the way he fucks you but he isn’t slowing down his movements and you feel like he might actually split you in two. he would never speak to you with angry words, but you can feel it in his movements.
“gonna c-cum, gonna cum, gonna cum...” 
it comes out of you like a warning, but it only makes satoru go deeper and before you know it your vision is white. your body feels everything all at once, and the coil that’s been tightening around your lower belly loosens from the intense orgasm. the pleasure is euphoric, sinfully so, and it drains you of all the energy you’ve preserved. your body goes limp in satoru’s arms, and he keeps them wrapped securely around your waist as he pumps his cum inside you.
he holds you in this embrace, allowing the seconds to pass. his breath fans your collar bone while he tries to catch himself. your eyes feel heavy when you blink them open, and you cup his face in your hands as you seek to cool yourself down with his azure eyes.
“I’m never going to let you go,” he confesses with a sweet kiss to the inside of your palm, before placing another on your cheek while he tightens his grip, “so stop trying to push me away.” 
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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baby fever
in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work
fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......
The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 
From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 
“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 
He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 
“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 
“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 
“She is pretty adorable.” 
You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 
“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 
HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 
“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 
“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 
At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 
“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 
His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 
“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 
“Can we have one?” 
Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 
“You--you mean like a baby?” 
“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 
“I thought we were waiting on that.” 
“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 
“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 
“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 
“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 
You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 
“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 
“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 
“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 
The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 
He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 
“What? What’s wrong?” 
There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 
Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 
The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 
“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 
His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  
Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 
“You’re ready?”  
“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 
He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  
“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 
“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 
He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 
“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 
“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 
“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 
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k-hotchoisan · 1 month
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Hii Sunshine hope you doing well 🫶🏻💗If it’s convenient, can you write one where San is a black cat hybrid, in heat and needy but he is afraid to hurt y/n [my size kink is kicking in] but eventually he gets her ✨help✨??
pretty kitty 🐾
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<san x fem!reader>
San is the prettiest kitty—even when he’s doing his best to hold back during his heat cycle when all he wants to do is to breed you over and over.
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Genres/warnings: smut, pwp, kitty!san is in heat and he’s whiny 😫, size kink, breeding, cream pie, orgasms after orgasms, san just cannot get enough, oral (M receive), soft dom!san, biting, reader and san call each other kitty!
A/N: I’m back?????? and doing this as a little warm-up 😔 life has been overwhelming and my mental health has not been mental healthing unfortunately. I’m presenting this as my apology,, I hope everyone is doing well, and thank you for being patient with me, always <3
Word count: 2.8K
Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify
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Something is up with Choi San. Your hybrid feline partner has been exhibiting strange behaviours for the past week or so, at least, from what you noticed. Initially, it started with him snuggling against you, which was quite the common behaviour of him, but then you swore you heard him whimper softly from time to time. Then it escalated to him latching his blunt feline teeth against your skin, nibbling and licking you sometimes, leaving marks on your skin in his wake. It would have seemed like his usual behaviour, that is, until he suddenly started pulling away so suddenly, and he would spend most of his time locked away in his room. You wonder if you should interfere, but by then he would come out like nothing happened, wearing the pretty smile he always had before pressing kisses onto your forehead.
Well, you got your answer one night.
San is curled up against you as usual, his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, his tail swishing on the couch. His ears are perked up, as he tries to concentrate on the program running on the television. 
But he can’t seem to. His eyes are gradually glazing out, his tail slowly pulling straight and his ears are slowly pointing to the front. San shuts his eyes when he feels your fingers brush against his dark locks, then scratching the back of his ears. He takes a shaky breath, biting his tongue in the process as his sensitivity climbs up in levels dangerously quick once more, evident by how much his pants are tightening at his crotch.
You feel your hybrid still and finally look down at San, wondering why he suddenly froze. Then you realise how pink his cheeks are getting.
“Sannie”, you call out. “Are you okay there?” Your hands press against his cheeks, and for a split second, you think he’s running a fever, which shoots panic right into your veins. 
San only whimpers in reply, his ears are downcast, and he presses himself against you, rubbing slightly in any feeble attempt to relieve the discomfort, and his erection makes things slowly click in your head.
“I’m fine,” is all he’s able to mutter before he bites his bottom lip, drawing blood. He attempts to pull away before his dick starts to take over his brain, but your hands force him to stay seated beside you. 
“Sannie”, you call out once more, trying to get the feline to focus. Your eyes dart to his pants, noticing the dark stain that’s beginning to pool on his pants.
“Are you in heat?”
San tries to blink away his tears, his hard cock starting to fucking hurt the more he’s just leaving it like that. He hates this funny feeling, like nothing can satisfy him no matter what he does. It’s not the first time he’s felt this way, and he hates how weird this all feels. San has always tried to be a considerate hybrid, showering you with so much love that he made it his life mission to suffocate you with it ever since you adopted him. He’s tried to suppress his ruts, deciding to take suppressants initially. It works, at least until the pharmacy had run out of stock for the month. Now, all that is flooding in his mind is how he wants you pinned under him, forced to take his cock deep in your pussy, and he’s driving him fucking nuts. He tells himself he can manage it, and he does his best, but fucking his fist can only hold him off for so long. 
And now it’s his limit. 
He knows you would say yes to help him and he detests the idea of hurting you, especially in a crazed frenzy that he’s unable to hold off and all he can think of is just holding you down and fucking you. Hard.
San breaks off eye contact, which is starting to tick you off. Your hands are now cupping his cheeks.
“I can take care of it myself”, San replies, trying to ignore the way his body feels like it’s ignited into flames whenever your touch lingers on him for a little too long. 
“But it’s not working isn’t it?” You counter, which draws a frustrated expression from San. His body is tense, and it’s taking all of his strength to not pin you down and just take you on the couch right there and then. “You know it’s okay to ask me for help right?” 
“I don’t wanna hurt you”, he mutters, his gaze dropping to the seat of the couch. 
“And I know you won’t”, you reply, closing the distance between the both of you. San’s heartbeat quickens at the proximity and your words. He’s so enamored by the fact that you trust him that much, and it’s driving him fucking insane. 
“It’s different when I’m not myself”, San attempts to counter once more, fighting with any remaining rational thought before it gets completely flushed out by his cock. 
“What makes you think I can’t take it?” You ask rhetorically, and that makes San freeze in response. He parts his lips to say something but you cut him off- 
“Come on, Sannie. You know I trust you with my body.” 
He swallows hard, the remainder of his rationale dissipating when you’re already tugging the waistband of his pants, pulling the clothing off as his red and angry cock springs out, wet and thick with slick already. 
It’s the not the first time you’re sucking him off, it’s not the first time San is gonna fuck you, but his cock just seems extra thick when he’s in heat. 
Not that you were complaining. 
Beads of perspiration trickle down San’s temples. He feels like his body is on fire right now—every area of skin your fingertips brush against is making him feel like he’s about to combust. He’s reminding himself to breathe and relax, but his heartbeat is doing otherwise. 
And when he watches you taking his full length into his mouth, he barely holds himself together, the pleasure shooting up his veins when he feels your throat close and squeeze his cock. His hands reach out to the back of your head, and he’s doing his best not to just push you down and make you choke. 
You hear his grunts slowly turn into whines, the way he gently squeezes his thighs against your head, and his toes are curled. 
“T-that’s it. Fuck. Oh fuck! Deeper, deeper. Please”, San cries, unknowingly already pushing your head further down his cock, and he barely registers you gagging. But all you’re feeling is slick lubing your cunt and butterflies in your stomach from the way San is looking so desperate just to get off.  It’s so fucking adorable.
You pull back, listening to the whines from San, watching the way the thick and white fluids bubble from his cock and leak down his shaft, while he watches you pull your shirt over your head, your tits bouncing slightly for his mouth to gape and for his eyes to fuck. You lower yourself back to his pretty dick, giving his shaft kitten licks from the bottom, San’s hands immediately tangling against your hair, pushing you impossibly close to his cock. 
A few more teasing licks later, you finally take his cock in your mouth, your tongue running up and down the thick shaft while you bobbed your head, and San is grasping at any final ounce of sanity he has left. His moans are so desperate and pretty, and you’re soaking in the way he’s so tensed up as you’re pulling his orgasm closer to the surface. His tail is coiled tight against your arm. 
“Cumming. Your mouth feels so fucking good—“, his words being cut off when his mind completely blanks out, washed in white as his cum seeps past your lips when his cock leaves your throat. 
“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum, kitty”, you tease as you wipe your lips with a piece of tissue, not realising your partner is staring down at you with glazed eyes, that he’s barely satiated. 
Before you could process anything, San’s thick arms wrap around your waist, then he fucking heaves you off the couch, and starts walking towards your shared bedroom. 
You fall onto the bed, watching your feline partner’s pupils dilate, his tail now long straight, and his ears completely perked up.
San’s lips aim for yours, his kisses sloppy and desperate, his tongue going scavenging every corner of your mouth before he grazes his fangs against your lips and pulls back. You stare back at him with confusion hinted with a strange sense of eagerness. San doesn’t fuck you during his ruts often, mostly because he opts for the suppressants, but when he does…
He pulls the remainder of your clothes off you, swallowing hard while he fucks you with his eyes, especially at the way your pussy is just dripping for him, glistening with slick under the lights. 
San leans in closer, his body weight pinning you underneath him as his cum stains your pelvic area, “No tapping out now, kitty.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, because he lines his cock up with your cunt and pushes in, making you gasp at how fucking thick he is, even when he just cummed barely minutes before. 
“You gotta relax for me, babe. Fuck. You’re so fucking tight”, he hisses, feeling your cunt stretching to accommodate him. You’re in awe—the switch between being desperate and domineering when San is in heat never ceases to amaze you. But you barely have time to let your thoughts manifest because San has your legs spread wide open for him, his thrusts pushing any wandering thoughts you have out of your head. He’s filling you up so good and full that you see a slight bulge pushing against your lower abdomen. 
“S-San, you’re so fucking thick. Oh my fucking god”, you groan when you feel his cock drag against your plush walls before he plunges himself back in. It’s a tight squeeze for sure, but San isn’t relenting anytime soon, especially when the look of complete pleasure flooding his face is only making you even wetter. His eyes are growing wild. In between fucking, he’d lean in to leave pretty marks all over your neck and chest, uselessly reminding you who you really belonged to. He would whisper that you are so fucking pretty for him, covered in his pretty marks on top of completely ruining your pussy. 
The more his cock hits your sensitive spots, the more your grip on reality slowly loosens, the only things you’re soaking in are the wet sounds of his cock making a pretty mess out of your pussy and the feeling of San so thick and heavy in you that stars start to flicker beneath your eyelids whenever you shut them. 
San pulls back from your body momentarily—his cock still fitted into you—to get a better angle to fuck you in, pushing your knees closer to your chest, giving him the perfect view of your pussy completely drenched in cream and precum. And it gives him more access to hit even deeper parts of your poor cunt.
Your mind grows blank, mostly focus on trying to chase an orgasm that’s bubbling up to the surface. You watch the way San’s pretty ears are twitching, the way he clenched his teeth, his once blunt fangs now sharper the more he grows feral from fucking you. His cheeks that were once dusted pink now are flushed alongside his furrowed eyebrows. His eyes would roll back from the way your cunt squeezes him and it drives him to want to fuck you even more senseless. 
“Sannie—“, you huff, trying to tell him, “I’m cumming. Don’t stop.” San stares down at you, his eyes reflecting adoration mixed with hunger. Your breath hitches when you feel it bubble at the surface—and it feels so fucking heavenly—you jerk slightly with a broken moan, your pussy fluttering while still full with San’s cock stuffed deep inside. Your hands fist the sheets, your thighs shaking, your toes curled from how mind-blowing it feels. 
“So good. Gonna make a mess outta you”, the feline hybrid promises he presses himself against you, forcing you to hear him groan in bliss while warm cum spills and fills you up. He stills for a second or so, before he pulls out slowly, watching the way his cum slowly seeps out of your fluttering hole, and he swallows hard. 
“Need more. Not enough”, San mutters, before he pushes his cock back in, forcing his cum to leak and spill onto your inner thighs. Your eyes are watering, fingernails clawing against San’s arm which he barely registers when he fits his full cock right into you one more time. 
He grunts, voice so low right in your ears, and you can’t help but squeeze around him, on top of feeling overstimulated. 
“W-wait—“, you jump, every nerve in your body still buzzing from your high. San meets your gaze, and you feel goosebumps on your skin when you feel his tail graze against your tummy. 
“Like I said, no tapping out, not until I’ve bred you full”, San reminds you before he shifts positions—settling you on top of him. His hands shifting to squeeze your ass before he guides you to slowly sink onto his cock once more, the both you shakily exhaling, San’s cock twitching in you as he lets you adjust to him. Your cunt is wet and sticky, but he still fills you full all the same, now even deeper since you’re sitting on his dick. 
“So full. Oh god. You’re so deep, Sannie”, you squeal when he presses the bulge on your lower abdomen once more, adding to the pleasure. 
You lift yourself off and slowly bounce off his cock with San’s hands on your ass to guide you, although he is rather impatient with it. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a hug while he’s thrusting right into your cunt over and over, and it makes you tug against his hair and scratch the back of his ears, which pulls out a purr and another thrust up your cunt and a light nibble against your neck. 
“You shouldn’t do that if you don’t want me to ruin your pussy”, San warns you along with a loud slap his palm impacts against your ass. You return his words with a cheeky smile before you bite against his ears gently, and he groans below you, his thrusts increasing in speed and as he fills you up with his cock every two seconds. 
He pulls you down for a messy kiss, his breathing heavy. Then he pulls away, looking up at you, dripping with lust, entranced by how gorgeous his partner looks filled up with his cock. The feeling builds up dangerously in your stomach once more. You glance at San, his eyes are shut, soft grunts leaving his lips, his cock twitching in you once more, he’s at his limit too, it seems.
You tap his arm, and San’s eyes flutter open, staring back at you as his pupils dilate and his ears point forwards. The corner of his lips curl into a smile. 
“Are you gonna cum for me again babe?” 
You nod, biting the bottom of your lip, a broken cry leaving your lips when he pushes his hips upwards into you once more, ripping a moan out of you as white bursts and floods your veins, your cunt convulsing around his cock for the second time, making San hiss. 
As you go down from your high, you interlock your fingers with San’s, keeping eye contact with him. 
“You can let go, Sannie. You’ve been such a good kitty”, you hum, brushing his hair back, not forgetting to scratch the back of his ears, knowing that it drives him fucking nuts as San bares his fangs and bites onto your shoulder, his cock spurting even more white into your spent pussy. His eyes roll back when he pulls away from your shoulder, whines piling on whines when he seems like he’s spilling his cum into you endlessly. 
As the snapped tension slowly dissipates, the both of you are left panting and catching your breaths. You giggle, breaking the short moment of silence, which San cocks an eyebrow, curious at your amusement.
“What are you laughing at, kitty?” He asks. 
You stare at him for a couple of seconds, admiring his face. “Nothing. I was thinking of how pretty you look when you cum, kitty.” 
San pouts at you, his face flushing from the shyness, and his retaliation comes in the form of biting your fingers. He gently lifts you off him, almost forgetting that his cock is still in you for second when he hears you whimper. But what definitely catches his attention is the amount of slick and thick white that trickles out of your pretty pussy, and San has to bite his inner cheek to hold his instincts from going a third round. He carries you to the bathroom, his tail swishing satisfied behind him, thinking about how baths aren’t so bad when you take them with him. 
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blue-jisungs · 4 months
Text
making up with them after a fight ♡
author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?
warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything
this is a continuation to fighting with them!!
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┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.
suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?
jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.
however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.
“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.
“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.
“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”
“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.
“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”
“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”
“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.
“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.
and minho hated this.
he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.
so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?
"y/nnie… i’m sorry"
you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.
"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”
he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.
"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"
"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.
"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.
"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.
silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.
"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.
"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.
"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"
"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.
"y/n?" he called out. no answer.
you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.
he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.
"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.
"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.
"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.
then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.
"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"
"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.
"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.
"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.
"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.
"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"
jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.
"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"
jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.
"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"
"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.
"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.
"you were what?"
jisung rolled his eyes playfully.
"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.
"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.
"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.
"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.
"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"
finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.
"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"
you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.
"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.
felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.
"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.
he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.
"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"
"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.
"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"
"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.
"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"
that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.
"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.
"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.
in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.
"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.
"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.
"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.
"okay…" you hummed.
hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.
masterlist <3
taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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theobsessivesideblog · 5 months
Text
Trust Issues
An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.
Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well
————————
He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 
But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 
He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 
“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 
“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”
“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.
You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.
He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 
His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 
“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”
He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 
“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”
“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 
Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 
“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”
“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”
“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”
“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”
His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.
“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”
You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.
“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 
His brow furrows in confusion. 
“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”
Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.
“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 
Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 
“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.
“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”
“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 
“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 
“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”
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no1deepspacehater · 3 months
Text
You Get Into A Car Accident (Non Fatal)
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Xavier
When he texted and you didn’t reply. He wasn’t worried.
When he went to your apartment, and you didn’t answer the door. He was mildly concerned.
When he saw on the news that a hunter was injured in a car crash. He grew worried.
And when he logged into the news feed of the UNICORN’s association, which shows direct information on all hunters, without proper pass, to see your status, he was frantic.
Nearly got into a car crash himself getting to the hospital, and when they wouldn’t let him in to see you, he flashed his high ranking badge, which got the message through.
You were unconscious when he got there, which suddenly reminded him how tired he was.
He prevailed through after checking with the nurses that you were okay, and with that, he pulled up a chair and blanket and fell asleep next to you.
You had to wake him up yourself after you had your breakfast (Saving some for him).
He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he blinked awake.
“You sure do know how to keep someone occupied (MC)… Try not to put yourself out of commission so often, or I’m going to have to find a new partner.” He mumbled absent mindedly as he consumed the rest of your fruit.
Zayne
If you’re not being taken care of at his hospital, he’s going to whichever one you’re at and taking over immediately. He’s THE Dr. Zayne so of course, he’s going to have his way.
For plots sake you’re at Akso Hospital for now.
If he’s in his office, whatever he’s doing is stopped immediately as his main priority is you.
If he’s dealing with another patient, or in a surgery, he’s still going to remain with his current patient, but his nerves are at an all-time high, which somehow makes him work better.
Says absolutely NOTHING as he tends to your wounds. You can’t tell if he’s seething with rage at you getting hurt or deeply disappointed that you got yourself hurt.
When you finally get the courage to say something, all you can say is his name.
“Doctor Zayne…”
He says nothing as he finishes applying a bandage. Afraid to say anything else, you wait until he’s done.
He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. He looks in your eyes, his own reflecting a type of tiredness you’ve only seen a couple other times you’ve been injured, but with battles instead.
To him, although you put your life in danger being a hunter every day, he’s reminded that the casualties of life are another thing he has to worry about with you.
He caresses your face and just whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Rafayel
He’d called and texted, and you didn’t reply. Almost didn’t answer you when you called him the next morning.
When he saw you in the hospital bed, he got SO MAD.
Immediately hung up. You thought he was being a brat until he showed up to your hospital room exactly 10 minutes later.
“Some bodyguard you are…” He huffed, faux annoyed, as he pulled out fruit, water, a stuffed animal and balloons from his bag. How did he even get all this stuff in 10 minutes!?
Visits every day until you’re out. Argues with the nurses every time visiting hours come to a close. You have to tell him to shut up and go and apologize for him every time before they officially ban him from the hospital.
He brings his sketchbook in tow and draws scenes of you, you in the hospital, and car accidents tinged with red and dark blue. Even though they’re sketches, they still portray his feelings of anxious despair and sorrow of what could’ve been for the one he most cared about.
“Seriously, stop trying to get yourself killed all the time! … I don’t know what I’d do without you…”
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charliemwrites · 6 months
Text
Part 2 of obsessive!Johnny
(Part 1 is here)
Johnny’s there when you wake up. Eyes so, so blue, hands fidgeting. You’re in a bed that’s not yours, in a room you don’t recognize, with a man you’re fond of but know nearly as well as you’d like right now.
“Don’t scream,” he says as soon as your eyes are open.
That’s not a very good thing to say to someone, you think hazily. Your head hurts. You don’t scream.
“Listen, I know how this looks,” he continues. He can’t sit still. Keeps scooting closer, then away, then twitches like he wants to touch you, then twists his fingers together. “But you passed out in the alley and I didn’t know what else to do.”
Oh right. The alley. Those creepy, aggressive men. Well, the one man and his shitty friends. You remember Johnny flying from the bar like a bat out of hell, one of them knocking into you, and then your head bouncing off the brick wall. Right.
“You… could have taken me back inside?” you venture.
There’s something off about Johnny. Something in his darting eyes and awkward smile. Something that warns you to tread carefully for there are traps hidden around your feet.
“No, I know, I realized as soon as I got you in the car…” He scratches nervously at his scruff. You were just thinking earlier that night that it’s growing in nicely. “But… but then I got to thinking.”
Alarms start ringing in your mind as he meets your eyes. A strange, fervent glint in them you’ve never seen before.
“The world is so dangerous, hen. It’s safer here with me, where I can protect you.”
You shift. There’s something around your ankle. It jingles when you move again. Johnny knows you notice it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he hurries to say. “I was afraid you would run if I wasn’t here when you woke up. You hit your head it would be bad for you to run.”
Your heart is starting to pound, so hard and fast you can barely hear your own voice over it. Somehow, blessedly, calm and even.
“Okay… okay, soap that’s fair. Can we take it off now that I’m awake?”
“S-soon. Soon, Bonnie. There’s just - listen I want you to stay. I have to know you’re safe. I can’t… can’t function when I think about getting hurt or-or with other men…”
He’s working himself up and thats bad. That’s very bad. Especially considering that you’re his only outlet for these made up scenarios.
“Hey, hey,” you murmur, instantly getting his attention. “I think I get it. You… you just want to protect me. You like me.”
His expression melts, he leans in towards you.
“More than like you, hen. Oh, so much more than like.”
Oh. Oh you see now.
You draw in the slowest, deepest breath you can manage through trembling lungs. It’s still not enough.
“So please understand,” he continues. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen but… but I can’t let you go now. Not when I know you need someone to protect you.”
You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all.
But you don’t need to. You just need Johnny happy with you. You need to keep calm, because that will make him happy. It’ll keep you safe.
“O-okay,” you force yourself to say. “I’ll stay… at least for a while. Okay?”
Even as you say it, you can feel tears spilling over. You life and hopes and aspirations fading like smoke. Johnny makes a distressed noise, scrambles to grab onto your hand. Is still, somehow, so gentle as he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.
“I know, it’s a lot all at once, I’m sorry.” He almost sounds like he means it. “I’ll make it all up to you, I promise.”
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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Can you do poly!marauders where reader has kinda a shitty family? Like, where their family belittles them and insults them and gets mad over them existing so whe reader is back at hogwarts the next year she's as fragile as a china shop uncomfortablely close to a bull farm??
Only do it if your comfortable with it <3
Make sure to take care of yourself and remeber you are loved <3 <3
Thanks for requesting, love you and hope you're taking care of yourself as well <3
cw: hints at emotional abuse
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You’re quiet, all of a sudden. The distance over the last few months had been rough for all of you, gone to your separate homes for the summer, but Remus is beginning to suspect it was most difficult for you; you can’t seem to find your way back to them. It’s like you’ve constructed a shell around yourself over the short three months you’ve been apart, and none of James’ loving, Sirius’ teasing, or Remus’ offerings of a study companion have proved successful in drawing you back out. 
He’s sure you think you’re being subtle. You certainly haven’t addressed your boyfriends’ worries, either missing or ignoring the looks they send each other when you don’t jump in on a joke they’re doing or answer in a quiet, meek voice when they ask you a question. It’s as if you’re afraid of being heard, of being noticed at all. 
Remus doesn’t like it one bit. 
Neither do the others, of course, and he and James have had to talk Sirius down from confronting you about it multiple times already in the week since you’ve been back. You seem…fragile, somehow, and Remus doesn’t think pushing you will get the results they all want. James seems to think you’ll come back to them on your own if they give you time, and Remus isn’t so sure, but it’s the plan he’s rolling with for now. 
Still, he doesn’t think it’s out of line to intervene when he catches you carrying a stack of books that has to be half your weight. Last year, he’s positive you would have asked for help, but now you only grunt quietly as the stack wobbles above your head. 
“Let me take some of those for you,” Remus offers, already standing, and you flinch as if your distracting him from his homework is a punishable offense. The stack teeters dangerously with your sudden movement. 
“That’s okay,” you squeak, leaning back a bit in an attempt to get your tower of books under control. You look timid, wide-eyed like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, afraid of getting in trouble. “You can sit back down, I’ve—” You don’t even get the chance to finish your excuse before the books topple, scattering about. Remus flinches internally when some fall down on your head, and another sends an empty glass on the edge of the coffee table crashing to the ground. 
You cover your mouth with your hand, staring in silent horror at the mess around you. 
James and Sirius, playing cards on the other side of the coffee table, look up at the commotion. 
“Shit,” Sirius says (a rather eloquent sum-up in Remus’ opinion). “Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” you breathe, crouching and beginning to gather the broken glass in your hands.  “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that.” 
“Don’t—be careful,” Remus starts to say, but then you lose your balance, stepping backwards just slightly and letting out a tiny hiss. 
Remus stands, but James gets to you first, careful to keep away from the broken glass himself as he lifts you clear of the debris and deposits you onto the couch. 
“I’m sorry,” you say again, impossibly quiet. You’re looking between your boyfriends as if unsure what they want you to do. 
“Angel, it’s okay,” James insists, coming to sit down in front of you. “We’ll clean it up in a bit, don’t worry. Did you hurt yourself?”
You look down at your foot, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth.
“A little,” you admit. “Sorry.” 
“Stop that,” Remus says sternly. “It was a mistake. We only care that you’re hurt.” 
You look conflicted, and Remus can practically see your next apology forming on your tongue, but before you can utter it, James asks gently, “Can I have a look, sweetheart?”
You blink at him, nodding hesitantly. James is careful as he takes your ankle in his hand, lifting your foot in front of his face. His expression clears a little. “Okay, it’s just a little piece,” he says, adjusting his hold before picking out a tiny bit of glass and flicking it into the pile with the rest. “There you go.” 
You nod your thanks, curling your foot underneath you. You’re being quiet as a rabbit, Remus thinks, all tense and wary but afraid to make a single sound. Whether you notice or not, the unease in the room grows with every second of your silence. 
Finally, it appears Sirius can’t be held at bay any longer. 
“Alright,” he says, more frustration in his tone than Remus thinks is really a good idea, “what’s going on with you?”
You look surprised. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You’ve been acting like someone’s going to shout at you ever since we got back this year.” Sirius lowers his voice, eyebrows scrunching together just slightly. “It was being at home, wasn’t it? Something happened.” 
You flush, and Remus feels suddenly like this is a conversation he has no right to be in. Of course Sirius would be the one to pick up on it if  your family was what was making you act this way. No wonder he’d been so insistent they needed to get to the bottom of it. That’s something he can understand, whereas Remus and James never could. 
“Nothing happened,” you say, and Sirius narrows his eyes like he doesn’t believe you. “I just…okay, don’t be mad.” 
“No one is going to be mad at you, sweetheart,” Remus says, feeling like his heart is working its way up his throat with the words. “We’re just…you’ve seemed so different, and it’s scaring us a little bit. We just want to know what we can do to help.” 
You look hesitant, and James reaches forward, taking your hand in both of his and rubbing at it with his thumbs. You nod, seeming a bit more confident now, and say, “There’s nothing you can really do. I just need some time.” 
James nods back, looking at you with brown eyes big and open and understanding. Remus often wishes he could convey even half James’ earnestness, but he doesn’t know anyone with the same capacity for warmth. “Time for what, darling?”
You nibble on your lower lip, and Remus has to repress the urge to rescue it from between your teeth. “Well, we didn’t really get close until a couple months into fall term last year, right?”
“Right,” James agrees. 
“So…I wouldn’t expect you to know, but it always sort of takes me a bit to…adjust back to school life.” 
Sirius still looks like he wants to fight something, but he’s more careful to keep his anger out of his voice now. “Why’s that?”
You shrug. “You’re not wrong. My family isn’t always as…patient with me as you guys are. They’re not awful, it’s just, I get into a habit of being quieter around them.” Remus’ heart feels like lead in his chest. “It takes me a while to get out of the habit once I get back.” 
“Honey,” James murmurs, not looking much better than Remus feels. “I’m sorry.” 
You give him a little smile, shifting uncomfortably. “You don’t need to act like it’s such a tragedy,” you joke. “I’ll get over it soon.” 
James looks distressed, but Remus cuts in. “I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can be yourself at home, lovely girl,” he says in what he hopes is a light but soothing tone, unsure what you need right now but gathering from your demeanor that it’s not their pity. He slides his arm around your back to tug you closer to him. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
You hum contentedly, leaning against his side. “Not really,” you reply. “You guys are too good to me, it’s hard to be quiet around you for long.” 
“Good,” Sirius says firmly, “because we don’t want you to. Want to go scream off the astronomy tower, sweet thing? Maybe that’ll help loosen you up.” 
“Actually, I’d really like to clean up my mess before someone comes down here and steps on it,” you admit. “But maybe we can try your yelling thing tomorrow.”
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cameronspecial · 1 month
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cpuld u do an angst to happy ending with rafe where like there could be a bet that he dates the reader kind of like the plot of ‘after’ if youve seen or read it and when she finds out shes like “youre breaking my heart” like that scene from padme and anakin but it ends up happy? MEERY CHRISTMASSS
You're Breaking My Heart
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
A/N: Merry Christmas to you too! I'm so sorry this is late.
Masterlist
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Y/N should’ve known he was going to break her heart. He isn’t meant to be in a relationship; he isn’t one to be tied down. What she heard just proved it. “I bet that I can have her wanting me by the end of the year,” he says in the video coming from her phone. It was sent from an unknown number to her and Rafe, yet it doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. The front door opens and he comes through the door with the takeout he went to get. His grin is wide as he looks at her, setting the bag on the table. He notices her sombre mood and hurries to her side. “What happened?” he asks, holding her face between his hands. She steps out of his grasp and escapes his touch every time he tries to approach. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he repeats. She lets her tears brim at the corner of her eyes, refusing to look at him. “Tell me what happened!” Having enough of his questioning, she whips towards him with anger. “You’re breaking my heart. That’s what’s wrong,” she yells, staring daggers at him. His frustration grows as he tugs at the end of his hair, “What are you talking about? What did I do, Baby?” She shoves his phone into his chest. “You went down a path I never thought you would. You are a liar and a cheat and I hope I never see you again,” she mumbles, picking up her purse and storming out. 
His phone screen lights up and he sees a text notification. He opens the video attached, not needing to see more than a second of it to know what it is. It’s a video of the night he said something he never should’ve said because now, it ruined the best thing he ever had. 
———
The tears haven’t stopped pouring in hours and she doesn’t know how to stop it. The knock at the door pulls her from her bed cocoon. She pads towards the door and swings it open, immediately trying to close it when she sees who it is. His strong hand stops her and he pushes his way in. “I don’t want you here,” she sniffles, turning away so he can’t see her vulnerable state. His heart aches at her pain, “I know, but we need to talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk to a liar and to someone who doesn’t even love me.” 
By now, he has cornered her against the wall and she has to crane her neck to look at him. His fist slams against the wall, “Don’t say that.” He takes a deep breath when he sees her small jump in fear. He brings his hand up to place on her cheek but second-guesses himself at the memory of her removing herself from his hold. The new tears that begin to crop up make him hate himself even more. He runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry. Can we please just talk?” “Okay,” she mumbles, a little afraid of what he may do. Although, deep down, she knows he would never hurt her. She holds her hand up with her palm up for him to begin. He takes a step back and lets out a breath. “I do love you. And I know I should say the bet was a mistake, except it wasn’t,” he begins. She chuckles, “That is a horrible way to begin.” He rests his warm hand on her cheek. “Because without it, then I wouldn’t have been able to get to know how amazing you are. And that is a thought that kills me,” he states, drawing a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“Why would it kill you?” she mutters, letting her heart lead the conversation. He lowers his face closer to her, “Because you are the only thing in my life that has ever made me feel alive. I will understand if you can never forgive me and I will forever be sorry for the pain this bet has caused, but I will never be sorry for making it because it gave me my time with you.” Her heart tells her to jump into his arms and forgive him, yet her brain tells her to slow down. Sweet words don’t mean all is alright. So, she settles for something in between. She holds him above his elbows and looks into his eyes. “If you really feel that way, then I guess we can try again,” she offers. The excitement he shows is cut short by her continuation. “However, you have a lot to do to gain back my trust and we can’t pretend you never hurt me.” He nods like a madman, “I’m fine with that. I would rather have to walk on broken glass without you if it leads me to your trust than to lose you forever.” She wraps her arms around her waist, bringing him down for a kiss. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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hihomeghere · 2 months
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Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader
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Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3
He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 
He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 
Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 
When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 
You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 
But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?
He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.
Violet.
Violet Beatrice Morgan.
His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 
It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.
You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 
With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 
You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 
“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.
“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.
“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”
“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?
Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?
You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?
“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 
“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.
“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.
“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 
“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.
“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.
“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 
You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”
“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”
“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 
“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 
Oh.
If we have one some day. 
“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 
“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 
“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.
“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 
“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.
“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.
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ginnsbaker · 10 months
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prophylaxis
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Summary: The most powerful Avenger is afraid of one thing: dental appointments, or the one where you're a dentist and Wanda is a baby about seeing one
Word count: 2.6k | Warnings: None. This is just good ol' fluff
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Author's note: This has been sitting in my drafts for some time, and while this is a one shot, I might follow up with more :)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Next part: the follow up
--
Steve and Natasha are barely done with their own routine dental check-ups when the notification of an emergency mission comes through. The Avengers' annual dental visit is typically swift and uncomplicated, but the arrival of their urgent mission turns the day into something far more chaotic.
“Where is Wanda?” Steve asks, scrolling through the mission details on his phone.
Natasha shrugs, sipping on her post-check-up glass of scotch. “I haven't seen her since breakfast.”
Vision appears in the room at that moment, his face expressing the closest thing to exasperation an android can manage. “She’s only now on the chair,” he says, glancing at Steve, whose eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Now? But everyone else is done!”
“I had to convince her to come,” Vision sighs. “I found her hiding in the back library. It took me the better part of an hour to persuade her to face the dentist.”
Natasha rolls her eyes at the revelation, trying to suppress her chuckle. The most powerful Avenger, avoiding a simple dental prophylaxis. “We don't have all day, Steve. The mission is critical.”
Steve nods, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We'll leave a note for her. She should meet us ASAP once she's done.”
Natasha gets up from her chair, glancing one last time at Vision, as she quips, “Good luck to whoever is the dentist working on her this year.”
As you approach the dental chair, you take note of the apprehensive figure occupying it. You've already seen a dozen Avengers today, each with their unique quirks and idiosyncrasies. 
But Wanda Maximoff, her gaze filled with clear distaste for the situation, seems to take the cake. She's curled in on herself, making her seem smaller than she actually is. The sight of her alone would have been enough to unnerve you, but the intermittent quivers of your dental tools due to an unseen force send a cold shiver down your spine. You can't help but wonder if you've drawn the short straw when they assigned you the patients for today.
You try your best to project an air of calm. Inside, though, your nerves are jangling like alarm bells.
“Wanda, right?” you confirm, trying to keep your voice steady.
She nods, her eyes wide as saucers.
“I promise this won't hurt,” you reassure her, even as your tools continue to rattle on the tray. “It's just a routine check-up.”
A skeptical glance is thrown your way but it's at least some reaction. Her gaze is piercing, and it takes every bit of your collected facade to keep from faltering. An absurd thought flashes across your mind: if you were to meet an untimely demise in your line of duty today, who on earth would inherit the numerous houseplants that have taken over your apartment over the years?
With a nervous smile that Wanda can barely make out behind the surgical mask you wear, you gently ask, "Shall we begin?" Your tone is soothing, carefully modulated to put her at ease.
The poor Avenger takes a deep, long breath before giving you the go-ahead to proceed with the checkup. 
For her part, Wanda begins to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of your gloved fingers in her mouth. Her gaze settles on your oversized prescription glasses that lend an air of professional yet friendly vibe. And there’s something about the clean, familiar scent wafting off your white coat that comforts her more than she's willing to admit.
She can’t help it when her mind starts drawing comparisons with last year's dentist—a gruff, no-nonsense man whose hands always seemed cold and who lacked any bedside manner whatsoever. You, on the other hand, are like a breath of fresh air with your calming demeanor and reassuring approach. Wanda blushes at the thought that, admittedly, you’re kind of a nice upgrade.
You begin the examination with meticulous care, your movements deliberately gentle to assure Wanda of your sensitivity to her obvious anxiety. As you carefully check her teeth and gums, you're acutely aware of how much trust she's placing in you, despite her apparent discomfort.
Glancing into her eyes as you angle your dental mirror to inspect her molars, you're suddenly struck by the piercing green of her irises. Even under the harsh clinic lights, they appear incredibly vibrant. Framed by the dark eyeliner she wears, her eyes are sharp and arresting. They follow your every move, staring up at you with an intensity that causes your skin to perspire under your uniform.
You've dealt with many patients over the years, some with eyes equally as fascinating, but something about Wanda's gaze is different. It's as if she's not just watching you but reading you, understanding you in a way that makes you feel exposed.
Your focus starts to waver under her scrutiny, and that's when you notice something strange. The dental tools on the tray beside you begin to quiver more violently, vibrating with an unseen force. Your heart skips a beat, realization dawning on you that Wanda's powers are reacting to her nervousness.
But it's not just her nervousness; Wanda's face takes on a look of surprise, her eyes widening momentarily. You can almost feel her presence in your mind, a subtle brushing against your consciousness. 
She's read your thoughts, albeit accidentally. 
She knows how captivated you are by her eyes. 
Catching yourself, you quickly shift your thoughts to a safer topic–your plants. The vibrant green of Wanda's eyes morphs into the various shades of green gracing the leaves of your beloved indoor jungle. Your Monstera, your string of pearls, your peace lily–
And yet, none of them are a match for the pair of green orbs that your mind keeps going back to. A flush of embarrassment creeps up your neck as you meet her gaze, the unspoken understanding between you making the air in the room feel charged. Wanda's cheeks take on a hint of color, and her control over her powers seems to falter, your tools–and a chair behind Wanda–now levitating a couple of inches from where they originally sat.
“I'm sorry,” she stammers, wide-eyed and apologetic. You barely make out what she’s saying with her mouth still wide open. “I didn't mean to…”
“It's okay,” you reply in a comforting murmur, pausing your examination. The room fills with the soft humming of the overhead light and the subtle scent of sterilized equipment. “I'm here with you. We'll go at your pace. Just breathe.”
Giving Wanda a few moments to calm herself, you pull back, placing the dental tools on the tray beside you. You keep your eyes on Wanda, a soothing smile hidden behind your mask. Her chest rises and falls steadily as she follows your instructions, taking deep, calming breaths.
However, you can't help but glance at the floating items around you, fearing that one of them might go straight for your heart that’s thudding loudly in your ears now. They seem to be suspended in mid-air, almost like a magic trick. Wanda catches your gaze, following it to the levitating objects. The already present color on her cheeks darken, and with a flicker of her gaze, your tools reintroduce themselves to gravity once again.
You don't comment on it. Instead, you simply offer another encouraging smile, masked by your surgical mask, but visible in your eyes. You extend your gloved hand towards the once again earthbound dental tools, feeling the cool metal against your palm. 
“Are we good to proceed?” you ask in a soft voice, patiently waiting for her agreement before picking up where you left off. 
Wanda doesn’t move, seemingly hesitant to say yes or no.
“Will it help if I talk to you?” 
She gives you a small nod in response this time.
“Alright,” you say with a hint of a chuckle. “Don't judge me if I start to sound silly, okay?”
And so you start to speak as you get back to work, recounting random memories and thoughts as you continue with the examination. You talk about funny incidents at work, share stories about your beloved plants, and even admit to that time you almost killed your favorite fern with coffee instead of water. At first, you feel slightly ridiculous, babbling about the care of succulents to an Avenger, one of the most powerful beings on the planet. But as the minutes tick by, you see a change in her. The initial terror in her eyes fades into curiosity, her body relaxes, and she even smiles at some of your sillier anecdotes.
You get lost in talking to Wanda, feeling both delighted and somewhat ridiculous that you're enjoying this one-sided conversation. You're fully aware that she can't respond with an excavator in her mouth, but it doesn't feel like she's just tolerating your chatter. Her eyes are attentive, following your movements, reacting every now and then. Her body language is open, receptive, almost as if she's hanging onto every word.
As for Wanda, something unexpected is happening. She finds herself liking your voice more and more, feeling an unfamiliar pull towards it. It's warm, comforting, and filled with a sincerity that she didn't expect. She even finds herself slightly attracted to it. But it's a foreign feeling, one she doesn't quite understand, especially in this setting.
As you conclude your examination, you realize that one of Wanda's molars needs a filling. It isn't urgent, a situation that could be deferred to another appointment if she wishes.
“Looks like you have a small cavity,” you inform her, meeting her eyes. “It's not of immediate concern, but we should schedule another appointment if you'd like to have it filled.”
To your surprise, Wanda agrees, not just with a polite nod, but with a subtle hint of anticipation lighting up her eyes. She agrees to another date, another round of you poking around her mouth with your scary dental tools. And yet, there's a hint of eagerness that surprises even her.
As you finish your work, you lean back, pulling off your surgical mask and gloves. For the first time, Wanda gets a full view of your face. It's like a silent reveal, one she hadn't been expecting, and it takes her aback.
She finds herself caught in a subtle admiration, a feeling that quickly intensifies as she takes in your features. There's something about your face that she finds herself drawn to, the warmth of your eyes, the curve of your lips, the soft contours of your cheekbones.
And when you smile, her breath hitches slightly. It's a simple gesture, but one that lights up your face, reaching your eyes and causing them to crinkle at the corners. It's genuine, open, and a little bit contagious.
“Thanks for your patience, Doctor...?” Wanda voices, feeling a tad awkward. It occurs to her belatedly that she didn't have the foresight to ask for your name before you started the check-up. 
“Just call me Y/N. It's my pleasure,” you reply, your smile deepening, unaware of the effect it's having on the Avenger before you. “I'll see you for that follow-up appointment, then?”
As soon as Wanda is escorted outside by Vision, you release a breath you didn't know you've been holding. Leaning against the counter, you try to calm the racing of your heart, which beats as if you've just run a marathon.
Wanda Maximoff is... quite a surprise. Her beauty, her vulnerability, the way she seemed to really listen to your inane chatter–it's all unexpected, disarming even. You find your mind drifting back to the way her eyes softened, the almost shy smile that graced her lips.
You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel these thoughts. This is unprofessional, you think. She's your patient. A patient who just happens to be one of the world's most powerful individuals. It's nothing more than that.
You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing you've spent more time with Wanda than any other patient today. You should be moving on to your paperwork, getting ready to call it a day.
But as you sit down at your desk, the fluttering feeling in your stomach doesn't subside, and Wanda Maximoff's haunting green eyes remain etched in your mind.
Walking down the corridors of the Avengers compound, Wanda finds herself in step with Vision. As they pass various agents and fellow Avengers, Vision turns to look at her.
“Wanda,” he starts, his voice taking on that concerned lilt that she's grown accustomed to. “I'm detecting unusual signs in your vitals. Your heart rate is elevated, your body temperature has slightly increased, and your pupils are dilated.”
Wanda blinks, feeling an unexpected heat crawl up her neck. Her palms are also feeling slightly clammy, and she has this weird fluttering sensation in her stomach. She tries to brush it off. It must have been the anxiety, right?
“Are you not feeling well?” Vision probes further, halting in his tracks to face her. His eyes scan her face, looking for any visible signs of discomfort. Wanda's mind races, trying to figure out how to downplay her seemingly irrational reaction to a denti–a dental appointment.
“No, Vision. I'm... I'm just fine.” Her voice sounds surprisingly steady to her own ears. She forces a smile onto her face, aiming to reassure her friend.
Vision doesn't seem fully convinced but doesn't push further. They resume their walk, but Wanda can't shake off the feeling that something has changed, something she doesn't quite understand yet. And for some reason, her thoughts keep drifting back to a certain dentist with a soothing voice, warm eyes, and a love for plants.
How did it happen that a dental appointment, of all things, has turned into the highlight of her day?
The kitchen is dimly lit when Vision enters, the only illumination coming from the withdrawn overhead lights. Natasha is there, assembling her favorite late-night snack, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She looks up as Vision approaches, her eyes curious.
“I trust the mission went well?” Vision inquires, noting the subtle signs of fatigue in Natasha's posture.
She offers a half-smile, nodding. “It did. It's all sorted now. How's Wanda after the check-up?”
Vision's eyes narrow slightly, and he hesitates for a moment before responding, “She is... well. The new dentist was quite effective in putting her at ease.”
Natasha smirks, spreading the jelly onto the bread with precision. “Told you a change would do the trick. I still can't believe you managed to convince Tony to switch dentists.”
“And find the perfect replacement,” Natasha adds after some thought, licking the jelly from the knife.
“It was a logical choice. The previous dentist was less than satisfactory, particularly with Wanda.” He pauses, considering something. “But this one... she seemed to have a rather profound effect on her.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow, looking up from her sandwich. “Profound effect?”
“Yes,” Vision says thoughtfully. “I detected unusual signs in her vitals afterward. Increased heart rate, heightened body temperature, a certain... excitement in her demeanor. It was quite unexpected.”
Natasha's eyes widen slightly, and a mischievous smile begins to form on her lips. “You don't say?”
Vision gazes at the digital interface on his palm, a soft hum of approval in his voice. “Indeed, she has also filed for a leave of absence a week from now. She has another dental appointment, but this time at the doctor’s private clinic.”
Natasha pauses, her sandwich halfway to her mouth. 
Vision meets her gaze, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Do you think it could mean something?"
Natasha shrugs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Who knows, Vis?” she says, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. “Maybe it's just a good dentist.” And then with a wink and a knowing smile, she adds, “Or maybe…”
She leaves the thought hanging, deliberately ambiguous, and exits the room, her satisfied crunching echoing down the hallway.
Vision is left standing in the kitchen, confusion etched across his synthetic features. He considers the day's events, attempting to analyze how Wanda suddenly managed to conquer her most irrational fear.
Humans really are something.
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princessbrunette · 5 months
Note
never lose me is so rafe coded ahhh !!
💌⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡
the line “you better fuck me like you mean it” makes me think of rafe in the early stages of your relationship. you’re soft spoken and rather shy, so it wouldn’t occur to anyone that sex would be something you’d have on your mind as often as you do.
he’s big, strong — outright aggressive sometimes, and there was this small nagging inkling deep inside you that was hoping that this would transfer into your sex life.
he’s good in bed, don’t get it twisted— but bizarrely, pretty soft with you. you enjoy it, and rafes not satisfied unless you’re cumming hard, ankles usually resting on his shoulders as he repeatedly spears you on his cock— but you craved more. you wanted that roughness, that aggression you’d seen exercised on others.
you’d been kind of bratty all week leading up to the weekend, subtly disobeying him and giving him attitude. he wasn’t pleased, not afraid to put you in your place outside of the bedroom — but never did he make the move to fuck the attitude out of you. so you push harder.
when the two of you finally get down to fucking, you even flip yourself onto your front midway through, waving your ass practically in the air to initiate doggy style. you think that might finally get him to rough you up, but you end up laying flat with a leg cocked up, letting the dark blonde boy grind into your gummy walls and clutch softly at your tits.
“cant you fuck me like you mean it?” you hear yourself whine before your brain catches up.
“wha’?” he pants, lips plump and parted — void of any of the days sour mood.
“was so bad today, rafey. do something about it.” you bat your eyelashes, and that’s all it takes for him to be game. he straightens his back a little, breathing and licking over his lips in thought.
“thats what you want?” he asks, but it’s deadpan— like more of a statement than a question. you swallow, still craned round to look at him with wide eyes. “shit,” he chuckles maliciously before pressing his lips together, pushing your head down against the mattress and lifting your ass up you’re sure he nearly breaks your back. “got—got people breathin’ down my neck, tellin’ me i’m being too mean,” he bottoms out once more inside you, so forcefully his balls slap against your ass.“n’—’nd now i got you tellin’ me i’m not being mean enough?” he squints, pushing your head back down when you try to turn and look at him. “no.”
he pushes down on your arch and gets to work, fucking you hard and deep like you were just a fleshlight. “d’you know how much stronger i am than you, baby? how—how easy it would be for me to pin you down n’ take what i want from you? to hurt you? you actually— could do nothing about it. look at you, can’t even run from this dick.” he pants, pounding into you, watching the way you weakly try and press yourself up off the bed to draw back a little, whines and squeals leaving you.
“s’what i get for bein’ a gentlemen. my girl acting like i’m just some bitch for not punishing her. a’ight. i can give you a taste of that, don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
💌⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡
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corroded-hellfire · 11 months
Text
Inked - Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: Eddie loves the doodles from his favorite girls so much that he gets them permanently etched on his skin.
Note: Dad!eddie, mom!reader
Words: 1.8k
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“I can’t study anymore,” you whine, dropping your head down on your kitchen table. 
Eddie watches you with an adoring smile on his face. He slides his hand over and snatches up the pen you were taking your notes with. A tapping on the back of your hair has you picking up your head and looking at your boyfriend.
“Take a break,” Eddie says, offering the pen to you. “Do a little doodling.”
“I don’t wanna mess up my notes,” you say with the most adorable pout Eddie’s ever seen. 
“On me,” he answers. He flips his arm over so you can draw on the inside of his right wrist.
“I dunno what to draw,” you tell him.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
You wrinkle your nose in concentration, practically making Eddie fall in love with you all over again. Sometimes he feels like he has to restrain himself from telling you just how much you mean to him. He’s afraid he’ll scare you off if he tells you that he’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let him. 
An idea finally comes to you, and you hold his arm steady with one hand, and put the pen to his skin with the other. Your brow pinches in concentration as you drag the tip along to make the design. Eddie decides not to look until you’re finished, wanting to be surprised by your completed masterpiece. 
“Am I hurting you?” you ask, glancing up at him.
“Not at all.” 
“Almost done!”
“Take your time, baby.”
“Tada!” You lean back and put the cap on the pen. Eddie raises his wrist up to inspect your artwork. He grins at the little stick figure kitty cat you’ve drawn. 
“He’s perfect,” he tells you.
“She,” you insist. “She’s a female cat.”
“My apologies. She’s perfect,” Eddie corrects. 
“Thank you very much,” you say, pulling your textbook closer towards you, ready to study again. 
Between work and a family member’s wedding, you don’t get to see Eddie over the weekend. When he picks you up for school on Monday morning, he has a bright beaming smile on his face.
“Someone looks happy,” you say as you click your seatbelt into place. “You know we’re going to school, right?”
Eddie’s too excited, he can’t even find the words. So instead, he tugs up the sleeve of his leather jacket and shows you the inside of his wrist. At first you don’t understand what’s got him so worked up. It’s just the cat that you drew on him a few days ago, what’s the big deal? But you pick up on how the drawing doesn’t look the least bit faded after all this time. In fact, it looks a bit darker. The skin around the outline of the cat also looks raised and red. You suck in a harsh gasp as your eyes widen in realization.
“You got it tattooed on you?!” The pitch of your voice rings in Eddie’s ears and he lets out a chuckle.
“I did. Now I can look at my baby’s artwork anytime I want to.”
You want to tell him how absurd it is that he did this, that he might regret it later on. But you’re too overwhelmed by the fact that he got your cartoon permanently inked on his body. It’s not even anything meaningful, just a silly little cat. But to him, it was important enough to keep forever. Your eyes mist over, and you shake your head. 
“You don’t like it?” Eddie asks, his heart plummeting.
“Eds, I love it. I just can’t believe you’d do this for something I drew on you.” 
“There’s nothing I’d rather have on me,” he says. 
You unhook your seatbelt and launch yourself across the van at him. He laughs as he catches you, settling you in his lap as best he can. 
“I love you so much,” you mumble into his neck.
“I love you too, baby.” He tilts your chin up and presses his lips against yours. “Purr-ever.”
You wrinkle up your nose at the pun and shake your head. “No, we’re gonna have to come up with a name for this little feline. I will not stand for awful puns about her.”
Eddie laughs and nods his head in agreement. 
“We can do that.”
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Ten years later, it’s a rainy Monday and Eddie’s trying to keep your four-year-old daughter entertained until you come home from work in a few hours. So far, they’ve played Barbies, Go Fish, and even watched The Little Mermaid twice. All after her day of preschool. 
Bailey’s now itching for another activity to amuse her and stumbles upon the box of crafts in her room. 
“Ooh, Daddy!” She shouts, even though he’s right behind her. “Can we color?”
“Sure thing, kiddo.”
He helps her carry the coloring books, crayons, and markers to the kitchen table. She spreads them all out, needing to see every last thing before she decides what she wants to work on. Settling on a Minnie Mouse coloring book, Bailey situates herself in her chair to get as comfortable as possible. Eddie selects a coloring book full of fairytales because he knows there are a few creatures in that one who remind him of D&D monsters. Father and daughter color in silence for a while, only the occasional hum of approval coming from either of them. Eddie glances over to see Bailey’s nose wrinkled up as she concentrates and her small tongue poking out of her pink lips. Traits she inherited from each of you right there on display. 
“Done!” Bailey announces once she’s finished her rendering of Minnie in a purple polka dot dress. Eddie looks over at it and nods appreciatively. 
“That’s real pretty, princess.”
Bailey flips through the pages but huffs when she can’t find another one that she wants to color. Eddie notices her impatience and quirks an eyebrow at her.
“What is it, rugrat?”
“Dunno what I wanna color,” she says, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped up on the kitchen table. Eddie decides to let her figure it out on her own, wanting her to be able to make her own decisions. He goes back to coloring his picture of a fairy, but before long he feels a poking at his arm. Turning his head, he sees Bailey giving him an adorable grin—the one she uses when she wants something. 
“May I help you?” he asks. 
“Can I color on you?” Bailey asks, eyeing the pale expanse of Eddie’s left arm that his Iron Maiden t-shirt leaves uncovered. 
“I guess so.” Eddie caps his marker and holds his arm out to his little girl. Bailey grabs a lime green marker and holds it above the skin on the side of his elbow. She stares, little brows furrowing together.
“Dunno what to draw.”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
Bailey thinks a few moments longer before lowering the marker, letting the green ink stain her father's skin. Eddie hears the front door of the apartment open and a giddy smile spreads on his face, excited to see you even though it’s only been a few hours. He can hardly wait as he hears you taking your shoes off and setting your things down. When you walk into the kitchen, you chuckle at the sight in front of you.
“What’s going on here?” you ask.
“Hi, Mommy,” Bailey says, not taking her eyes off of her creation.
“A little artist is at work,” Eddie says, holding his right arm out for you. You take his hand, and he presses kisses across your knuckles. 
“Tada!” Bailey leans back and puts the cap back on the marker. Eddie turns to see a bright green smiley face on the side of his arm, one eye bigger than the other, and squiggly lines coming from the top of its head. 
“It’s lovely,” Eddie says, grinning at his daughter.
“He’s lovely,” you correct him, knocking your hip against him playfully. “I love the squiggles on his head.”
“That’s his hair! It’s like Daddy’s!”
Now that she says it, the green spirals do resemble Eddie’s curls. 
“I love it, princess,” he tells her. There’s a proud smile on her face as she leans up and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 
When you and Eddie are getting ready for bed that night, you chuckle when he takes his shirt off, giving you a better view of the green art. 
“Don’t be laughing at my new ink,” Eddie teases. “Best tattoo artist I ever had.”
“Oh, really?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him. 
“Okay, it’s a tie,” Eddie relents. He turns his arm so he can get a better look at his little Picasso’s work. “Think I’ll get this inked too.” The way he smiles so fondly at the marker design gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling. 
“She’d love that,” you say as you pull down the blankets on your bed. 
“Don’t be jealous,” Eddie says as he climbs in on the other side. “Dinah is still my favorite.” Your husband holds up his wrist to you, showing off the stick figure cat you drew back in high school. “Favorite tattoo, that is. She’s my second favorite pussy.”
Eddie barks out a laugh as you lean over and swat at him.
The next day, Eddie waits anxiously outside of Bailey’s preschool classroom. Kids could be blunt and would tell you if they didn’t like something. What if Bailey wasn’t happy he got her drawing tattooed on him? Would she understand the emotion and sentiment behind it? Eddie doesn’t have time to think about it before the door opens and a dozen munchkins are swarming around, trying to find their parents. 
“Daddy!”
“Bailey!”
She runs to him, arms raised, and he gladly snatches her up and holds her on his hip.
“How was school, princess?”
“Was good,” she answers.
He starts to walk out of the school with her, and when he gets out into the parking lot, he jostles her a little in his arms.
“Wanna see something?” he asks.
“Okay.”
Eddie sets her down so she’s sitting on the trunk of the car and turns so she can better see his left arm. He tugs his sleeve up a little to give her a better view. Bailey grabs his arm in both of her small hands, making Eddie wince when she gets too close to the still-sensitive area. 
“I drew that,” Bailey points out. 
“You did,” Eddie says. “And this morning I got it tattooed on me.”
Bailey gasps and holds his arm even tighter. 
“You did?! My drawing is your tattoo? Forever?”
Eddie can’t help but chuckle at how awed she sounds. 
“Yeah, princess. Forever.” He turns to face her again and moves some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. “That’s how long I’m going to love you, too. Forever.”
“It looks cool, Daddy.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Cooler than Dinah the cat.”
Eddie laughs.
“Don’t tell Mommy.”
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