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#like i know he would love some domesticity i feel it in my bones
snowblossomreads · 2 years
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Me constantly thinking about how cute and domestic Severus would be with his S/O after leaving Hogwarts😩🥺 (because there was no way he was gonna stay after suffering for years there)
Like living in a little brick cottage 🏠that had a cute chimney and flowers covering the wall (S/O's idea not his but it made them happy and he is soff for them) far far away from Hogwarts and of course having a little green house for him to work in and somewhere to do potions work or any research he wanted to do🥺
Waking up in the mornings to find his S/O just buried into him or sometimes waking up to find them cradling him protectively 🥲🥲
He had to hide his tears that morning because it just made him feel safe when he realized that he was truly free to live
And also all the rest he would be getting because no dunderheads blowing shit up, no Voldy Moldy and Dumbledore giving him wack tasks, and no Harry Potter who he still for the life of him can't believe didn't get murdered his first year after all the shit that happened 😒
He also finds out he snores when he is in a deep sleep bc his S/O tells him when he has waken up in the middle of the day warm, and confused about where he is at for a second
"Why didnt you wake me up it's bloody 1 in the afternoon" 😤 "Bc you were sleeping so well darling and looked peaceful you deserve some rest 🥺"
And he is like your right how dare I get angry at you for this and showers them in kisses
And dont forget his S/O who he just adores and they dote on him everyday 🥺🥰
Like "Sev I got you some tea I know you've been trying to slow down on the coffee" or "Sev I saw you were running out of fertilizer so I made you some more from what ingredients you had left"
And then 🥺 they alternate between cooking for each other but one day S/O is like" i know it's your day but I found this recipe you might like i really wanted to make it for you I hope you don't mind "👉👈
Of course he doesnt mind he'll eat that shit up no apologies are necessary like you're doting on him and caring for him it's everything he wants and needs
And and and he gets cuddles and kisses every day, (and don't forget the numerous blowjobs throughout the week bc S/O is thirsty for him😘🥴) and he doesnt have to hide his love for his S/O because Voldy is gone and they are safe🥺😭😭🥺
Also also he becomes super soft especially for S/O so whenever S/O has to go away for work or like if they are a professor and are gone often during the school year he gets a little sad 😞 he doesnt admit it though
But it's okay !! Because S/O constantly sends him owls and Floo him a lot and they make sure to visit him in the middle of the week and the weekends if they can bc they also miss him 🥺 and want cuddles
Sometimes he even rents a room at one of the Inns in Hogsmeade village for a week (he isnt stepping foot in that school again unless some sort of catastrophe happens and still he would have to think on it) and S/O comes to stay with him and teases him a little
"Can't resist me can you Severus?"
Spoilers he cant he loves the mess out of his S/O and they love him just as much
He's like 😤 but they are like 🤭😊🥰 and then he is like 😒 bc he is still a grumpy man at heart but on the inside he is really like🫣🥰🥰
And then he proposes to them the next morning bc he doesn't want anyone else but them and now they are both crying bc how did they land such a wonderful partner
Ill stop now im making myself cry, i want to cuddle this man and make him happy bc he deserves it😭
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mockerycrow · 6 months
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Can I request just some comfort Fluff with soap? Maybe him just being at home with the reader and finally being about to fully relax
— love your writing 🤍
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MINE, OH MINE (Soap x GN!Reader)
soap masterlist — 808 words
a/n: I had actually gotten two of this request, so 🐤 anon, this is for you, too!!! i apologize for my slowness lol this is also short </3
[WARNINGS: None, domestic fluff!]
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Johnny has always loved the mornings after he arrives home to you. Of course, he loves that first near rib breaking hug you give each other—he loves the slow and thankful unsteady kiss you share at the front door with his duffel bag at your feet. Johnny loves the way you run your fingers through his messy mohawk during the sweet kiss, the way you lean and melt into him so naturally.
He loves the way you tremble; like you can’t believe he’s with you and he isn’t looking at you through a facetime call. Johnny adores the way you basically refuse to leave his side the rest of the night, barely giving him enough space for him to use the restroom by himself. He doesn’t mind though, because he knows he’s the exact same way. You are clingy the first two days whilst he is clingy all the way up until he has to leave again; neither of you mind.
Johnny loves the way you wear his clothes while he’s away, the way he sees more of his own laundry than yours in the laundry basket by the washing machine down the hall in the laundry room. Johnny loves the way it’s clear when he steps into the bedroom to put his bag away, you hog his side of the bed. He appreciates your insistence on helping him take a bath, his pajamas already in your arms. You know how to massage the knots out of his shoulders and back, you know the exact pattern on how to stroke his hair and tickle his neck to make him incredibly still. Johnny loves the way you’re concerned about his eyes when washing your hair, cupping right about his forehead to prevent any possible droplets of soap to drip down into his tear ducts. Johnny loves that you care enough to squeeze his hair at his hairline to keep it from dripping down his face.
Johnny loves the way you allow him to rub your back once he’s out of the bath and properly dressed; you’re sitting on the bed with the Scot sitting behind you, his legs crossed as his big and rough hands press against the tense muscles of your back through your his shirt. He loves the way you sigh with your lips closed from being content, the way you instinctually lean back into his touch, the way his thumbs press into your shoulder muscles and rub them in circles to relieve the tension that has most certainly built up, deep in your bones and tissue. He loves the way you tilt your head when he peppers soft kisses to your shoulder, leading up to your neck.
What Johnny loves the most, though, is waking up next to you after these nights together, after returning from deployment and missions. He loves waking up with his nose buried into your shoulder with an arm wrapped around you, the other under his own head for comfort. Johnny loves waking up with his head buried in your chest, or maybe your head is buried in his. He loves waking up to see you still sleeping, your lips parted ever so slightly in your sleep, your face devoid of stress and anxiety. If you snore, the man very much treasures every noise coming from you; it’s a sign of life, and he would fall asleep to the sound of it every night if he could.
Johnny likes to run his fingers against your brow ridge and then down your temple to your jaw, his fingertips sliding against your pulse for a moment, just feel your heart go ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. Sometimes on a rare occasion, you’ll wake before him; which is how he found out you watch him sleep. Of course Johnny isn’t upset when his eyes flutter open and the first thing they do is lock onto yours. He finds out you wait for him to wake up like he waits for you, admiring his face, his chin scar, his hair. You look at him like there’s nothing else in the world and that makes his chest so tight and gooey.
He likes it when you mumble “I can’t understand you” in the mornings, the grogginess thickening his accent. Johnny likes your little smile when his voice rumbles in the morning, the sound penetrating deep into your chest and staying there. Johnny likes it when you kiss him in the morning, despite the fact that his morning breath has always been worse than yours. He likes it when you cup the back of his head in these morning kisses—all he can think about is you, you, you. Johnny likes it when you insist on staying in bed for a bit longer, despite your alarm for work having already gone and past.
Yeah, Johnny loves coming home to you, alright.
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grippingbeskar · 1 year
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coming home - simon ‘ghost’ riley
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— simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader
— warnings - adult content minors dni (18+) mxf, ghost has a filthy mouth, praise kink (?), pretty soft compared to all the ghost s*** out there tbh, slight description of injury and mentions of death. kinda sad ghost but he fucks it out :)
a/n: i have fallen down the ghost hole. just wanted some domestic shit, also the shower description is just something i want in my dream home so it’s self indulgent as fuck! hope you enjoy. xx (also shout-out to @dinahmadanimybeloved for the lil nudge in the right direction!! i appreciate u. xx)
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He’s quiet, and that’s how you know somethings off. Most people think it’s just the way he is, being able to count on one hand the amount of words he’s spoken to them over the years. Ghost doesn’t talk unless he has to, or unless he gives enough of a fuck about whoever’s talking to him, which is rare these days. He could go hours without talking when he was away, a fact that always broke your heart a little.
The truth is, you can never get him to shut up. When he’s home, he’ll talk your ear off about anything. The dog he ran past that morning, the way you should organise your socks, how good you looked wearing his shirt. He was talkative, which is how you knew that something was wrong when he came home this time.
Being the biggest guy you knew, it amazed you how he could walk with such stealth. Even the floorboards seemed scared to creak under his frame as he came through the door. You shot up, nearly flying over the back of the couch. He wasn’t due home for another two weeks— you knew because you were supposed to pick him up from the airport. He was home early, and of course you were ecstatic, but then you saw his face, still covered in that bone white mask, and you knew it wasn’t all good news.
“Simon.” You whisper as you walk towards him. He’d closed the door behind him, locking it, but hadn’t moved from there. Usually you were both bursting with energy when he came home, excitement and adrenaline pumping through your bodies at the long awaited reunion. He was looking down at you, and when you finally stood close enough, one of his hands came up, gingerly cupping your face. “You’re home!”
“Hey, baby.” He says slowly, eyes holding yours. The hand he had behind his back touched your side, and you looked down, seeing about a dozen roses in a bouquet, stalks fisted in his gloved hand. “Got ‘em for you.”
“They’re gorgeous. Here—“ You take them, letting the sweet smell fill your senses and move quickly to put them in a vase on the counter— a spot reserved for whenever Simon brought you flowers. It seemed to be a constant thing, and it never failed to have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. “I love them. Thank-you.”
“‘Course.” The tone of his voice only confirms your suspicions about something being off, and it has your heart dropping through the floor.
“You should of told me you were coming home. I would of come picked you up!” You smile up at him, trying to gage where his mood is.
“Finished early. Thought I’d surprise you.” His hands come back to your face, holding your head up at the perfect angle. There was a significant height difference between you, so you were in a constant state of looking up at him.
“Did everything go… good?” You ask tentatively. He’d told you some of the things he’s done over there with the 141, but you always try not to pry. You know it’s brutal, and he sees the worst of the world, so when he trusts you with something, you take it to the grave. When he doesn’t, you don’t ask.
“No. Nothing did.” He says, still holding your face up to his. You bend up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to the nose of his mask. “I just needed to see you.”
“I’m glad you’re home.” Your arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer. You press your face into his chest, sinking into the feeling of him being home. After so long, it never gets any easier. Watching him leave, never really knowing when he’d be back. If he was safe. “You want something to eat? I can make dinner.”
He shakes his head, gently pulling your face back from his chest. When your hands snake up his front, he just watches you. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes— still had that black paint smudged across his eyes. He must of gotten straight on a plane after whatever he was doing had come to an abrupt end. Your fingertips brush his jaw, the bottom of his mask, and when you go to pull it up over his mouth and nose, he doesn’t stop you.
“Can I take it off?” You check, feeling how stiff he is under your hands. He nods once, and tilts his head, allowing you to pull it all the way off. “There you are.”
“I missed you.” He says simply, but the words pack such a punch when he looks like this. To an outsider he’s hard at nails, sharp and pointy and dangerous to get close to, but you see him under the paint and the body armour. “Missed you so fucking bad, baby.”
“Prove it.” You see a flash of his teeth, just the smallest hint of a smile, and your stomach does a backflip because it feels like a win. Then, he leans in, kissing you softly, with the care he would hold broken glass— hands guiding you forward and up, thumbs tracing gently along your cheek bones.
You sigh, nearly melting into his body. Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with the short hair that he’d cut while he was away. You always have to fix it for him when he comes home— he just hacks away at any hair hanging out of his mask, mostly getting frustrated and buzzing it off until he can get you to cut it again. When your fingertips scrape lightly along his skull, he groans into your mouth.
“Fuck.” He mutters as you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, careful to only apply a little bit of pressure. You were sure he was covered in enough painful marks as it was— you didn’t want to add to it. He leans down further, chasing your mouth, foreheads pressing together.
“You wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head then dips down, kissing your jaw, nose nudging you to the side to get better access to your neck. Your breathe hitches and you sigh his name, him smiling in response against your skin. You can feel the black smudge of his face paint slowly covering your own, like a trail of all the places he’s touched you.
“I only wanna hear you sayin’ my name like that. Don’t want to think about—“ You say his name again, drowning out the thoughts of whatever happened over there. That wasn’t now— he was here, and safe, and if he needed to be distracted, that’s exactly what you would give him.
“Need you to wash this paint off first.” You murmur, your voice a little lower than normal, making him almost shudder. You drop your hands from his neck, letting them fall slowly between your bodies before you loop your fingers in his belt buckle, walking backwards. “You’ll get me all dirty.”
“I would’a thought you’d like that.” He grabs a handful of your ass, nearly making you trip over as you step back, but he catches you easily and picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He presses his paint covered face to yours, kissing your nose and face wherever he can reach, and you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you must look now, covered in smears of black.
“I do. Just want an excuse to see you naked.” You taunt in his ear as he finally reaches the shower and flicks it on, still fully clothed. “You buzzed your hair again.”
“You know I can’t do it right without you.” He puts you down, quickly ripping off his own shirt before reaching for the hem of yours.
He’s slower with it, the fabric brushing against your sides, giving you goosebumps. It doesn’t matter how many times you take your shirt off in front of him, he always looks just as dazed as he did the first time, and you always get just as nervous.
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Come ‘ere.”
He pulls you fully under the stream of the shower. It’s one of your favourite places in your shared house— a giant shower head that let the water fall as fine as rain, with enough space for his giant body not to have to bend at awkward angles to wash his hair (when he had some). It was also well big enough for the both of you, a feature you both utilised every morning and night you spent together.
He works at your shorts next, easily slipping you out of the now wet cotton, leaving you just in a set of underwear. They weren’t particularly cute— like you said, you would normally dress up for him to come home, but he wasn’t due for two weeks. Simon didn’t seem to mind, hands running wildly over your body, eyes on fire. You were starting to see him clearer now, the paint running off his face and down his bare chest in shadowed droplets.
“God, Simon…” You lean back just an inch, seeing the new marks on his chest and shoulder. A new bullet wound in the right arm. A gash that extends all the way up his left side. It still looked like it was healing— the stitches must of only come out a few days ago.
“I’m okay.” He says, kissing your collarbone.
“I don’t like when you get hurt.” You whimper, feeling his strong hands grab your hips, pushing your underwear down. “Are you sure—“
“Let me take your mind off it.” He leans down further, kissing your chest, and then drops completely, landing on his knees in front of you. He was so tall that he still needed to bend lower to kiss his way down, feeling his lips press softly on your hip bones, then your stomach. “Look at you. Such a pretty girl.”
He taps your inner thigh with two fingers, a silent command. You follow, spreading your legs slightly. He’s not satisfied, hooking one leg over his shoulder while the other is pinned between him and the wall. At this point you weren’t even holding yourself up— the display of brute strength making your head feel fuzzy.
“Dreamt about this.” He kisses closer, skin that hasn’t been touched in weeks nearly sparking under his manipulation. “Out on base. Couldn’t keep this pussy out of my head.”
“Simon, please.” You beg shamelessly. You have no pride when it comes to him, not when he’s holding you like this, reducing you to putty in his hands before he’s even really touched you.
“Never leaving this house again.” His words nearly get lost between your thighs. You arch your back to encourage him, but he holds you flat. “Gonna keep you here forever. Right here, just like this.”
“Simon.”
“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d say my name all pretty like that and let me do whatever I wanted.” You were nodding furiously, hands finding little purchase in his short hair but it was all you could do to get him closer— “Want you to ride my face. Give me everything you’ve got.”
“Okay, please… please just—“
“What, baby?”
“Fucking touch me, Simon. Please.” You know he doesn’t respond to bad manners, so you throw as many around as you can. He smiles between your legs, kissing your thigh once more before you lose sight of his now clean face, burying himself in your pussy. “Fuck!”
He’s no stranger to eating you out— he always tells you how much he loves it, like it’s a reward for him. He always makes you see stars, too, but right now, the way he’s practically taking you apart from the middle out, it wasn’t like anything you’ve felt before. He keeps one hand on your hip, pinning you under him, the other slipping a finger inside of you, working in perfect tandem with his mouth.
You can’t decide what it is, but fuck— maybe it’s the water, how soft it falls on the both of you, combined with the overwhelming feeling of having Simon back early and safe— it was having a physical affect on you. Weak knees that were taking none of your weight in them, choked gasps of his name— your eyes roll back in your head before long, hips bucking wildly against his hold as your whole body shudders with pleasure.
“God— so fucking good for me, princess.” He says, taking a second to pull back and admire how strung out you look before diving back into you. His gaze never leaves you then, watching as your face contorts with every glide of his tongue over your clit, or how every time he moves his hand just right your whole body jolts. He seeks it out again and again, and you can feel him smiling underneath you, watching you writhe as liquid heat spreads all the way through your veins, carrying pleasure to every nerve ending you had.
It was an entire body experience, and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open anymore. You let him get rougher, at some point hooking your other leg over his shoulder, so you were completely suspended in the air. Your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him in position as you neared your high, and Simon only gripped you tighter, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass. He held you hard, in a way that you knew would leave the good kind of bruise, and the image only sky rocketed your state.
“Don’t stop, Si. Fuck— you’re so good, so fucking good, I… ah—“ You cut yourself off when he groans— really groans into you, and you feel him switch gears at the praise. He must like hearing it, how good he is at this. How good he makes you feel. While you still have the ability to talk, you keep going— anything to get him not to stop. “You feel so good, Simon. Gonna make me c— oh fuck, right there.”
You feel the stretch of two of his thick fingers, easing you open, and you know it’s out of your control. There’s an electric feeling in your stomach you don’t recognise, bordering on too much of a good thing. You almost don’t want to fall into it, but Simon, with his talented hands and mouth that’s never satiated, you wouldn’t get much of a choice. Your brain couldn’t move your legs anymore, only able to blank out and take it— take all of what Simon was so desperate to give you, and who were you not to indulge your man?
“C’mon, princess. Let me see you… just let go. Want it so bad, pretty girl.” The pet names, his tongue lapping at your sensitive nerves, his fingers curling inside of you— there was no way to avoid the plummet into overwhelming pleasure, Simons hands being the only thing holding you to the real world.
You cum with a choke of his name, and a string of indiscernible words babble out of your mouth. You hear Simon saying something, but it sounds so far off, your only focus on that feeling. He doesn’t stop, still buried inside of you as close as he can, and he doesn’t let up until your physically clawing at him, flinching away from the lap of his tongue.
You feel wrung out— like you’d just been suffocated and were slowly coming back to consciousness. It was possible you really did pass out, if you were honest. Simon was still holding you up easily, hands now holding your thighs to his shoulders, eyes wide and staring at you in fascination.
“Holy fuck, baby. That was fucking… you are so hot.” Out of breath and energy you manage to burst out laughing at his compliment, feeling yourself slowly sliding down the wall of the shower. Everything felt like jelly, but as Simon bent down to kiss you, your hand brushed against his boxers, and you tugged at them. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you now, baby?”
“Mmm.” You hum, body still twitching from the aftershocks of the biggest orgasm of your life. You tug harder at the seam of his boxers, and he kisses your forehead.
“Shh. Take a minute.” Your eyebrows furrow together, feeling a little juvenile in your fuzzy state.
“Please, Si. I’ve waited so long for this. Please, just…” You slip the fabric over his cock, already hard and waiting, and duck your hand under to stroke him gently. He swears, shuddering under your soft touch. “Don’t make me wait.”
“Turn around, princess.” He breathes, and you smile victoriously, getting another laugh out of him. “Fuckin’ insatiable.”
“Only for you.” He helps you get onto all fours, rough palms of his hands smoothing over your ass and lower back.
“Mhmm. Mine, aren’t you?” You nod, feeling him lean down to kiss your shoulder blades before you feel his cock, sliding between your legs and settling at your entrance. He gives you a second or two— it always takes you a while to adjust to the pure size of him when he gets home. You’d never say it, but you hope you never get used to it. A bit of pain with the pleasure he rings from you seems a fair trade for all the dirty things he says when he finally enters you.
You push back against him, making him hiss as a little more of his length disappears into you. He lightly smacks your ass just once and you arch into the touch. He’s never been one to throw you around, not wanting to even think about the possibility of hurting the one good thing he has in this life— but he can’t help but be memorised by the way you react when he treats you a little tougher. He does it again, and hearing your moan is apparently the last thing he needs to bottom out behind you.
You both sigh— finally feeling each other this way. There was something to be said about the first fuck when he came home. It was so much more than that. It was like something from a movie, how they called it making ‘love’. You’d always thought it one and the same— until you met Simon. He starts slow, purposeful as he drove his hips back and forth in a pace that had you feeling dizzy after just a few thrusts. He was so strong without even knowing, you had to smack your hand to the wall to keep from sliding away every-time his hips collided with yours. He hit spots inside of you you never knew you had until you met him, and it was borderline embarrassing how quickly you felt that ball of pleasure in your stomach tighten— preparing for release.
“So tight. Always t-take me so fuckin’ good. Jesus Christ.” Hearing Simon Riley stumble over his words was the ego boost of the century.
“Just like that, Si. Fuck.” You feel one of his hands sliding up higher, touching any part of you he could reach— hands brushing over your side, your tits, reaching up to tangle in your hair. When he pulls slightly it has you squeezing your eyes shut, the combination of his touch all over you making you dizzy.
He starts to come back to himself, talking constantly as he drives his hips harder and faster. Constant praises come out in a low, raspy voice, only interrupted by you chorusing them back to him. It had always been like this with him, the filter between his brain and mouth broken as soon as he got inside you, leading to a string of compliments too dirty to repeat anywhere else— but it was the hottest fucking thing in the world to you.
“C-can’t last much longer, princess. S’feels too good.” He slurs, and you look over your shoulder. His shoulders are completely relaxed, jaw slack and eyes half open, and there’s none of that stiffness from before when he came home. Now, he was in his element, not thinking about whatever went wrong on the outside— he was just here with you.
“Fuck, gonna cum, Simon— just a little m-fuck.” You didn’t have to tell him, he knows your body better than you do, and when his hand slips under your hips so that he can circle your clit in soft, quick movements, your arms drop out from under you as pleasure overwhelms you. This time, you’re pretty sure you do pass out, the only thing you can hold onto in that in-between is Simons voice.
“There it is. Fuck—yes… yes. Fuck!” He swears the whole way through as he cums, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading over your ass and lower back. You try to pick yourself up, giving him a pretty picture, but your body is so weak that you just stay right where he puts you. His free hand grips your waist, keeping the backs of your thighs pressed to the front of his.
The water was still running a warm stream over the both of you, and when Simon’s orgasm wrings out the last few jolts of pleasure, he’s just as fucked out as you are. All but collapsing over the top of you, he keeps himself up with one arm, the other wrapping underneath both your bodies. He kisses along the back of your shoulder blades, murmuring praise into your skin.
“Baby… baby. Missed you.” He repeats, and you turn your head, finding the strength to hold yourself up a little to kiss him. Once he knows your starting to come back, he switches positions, using the arm underneath you to hold you to him as he leans himself against the wall of the shower, your back tucked to his chest.
“Missed you more.” You look up, finding him staring down at you. He smiles then, and your still a little dazed but he just looks so good when he smiles— “I love you.”
“I love you.” He repeats.
It might just be the heat of what you just did mixed with the warm stream of water above you, but you swear he blushes. No matter how many times you say it to each other, he still reacts like that. You both sit in silence for a little, your body now tired and slumping against him, held up by his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly.
“You scared me a little, when you came home.” You say softly, your hands tracing along his forearm. “I never know how to make it all okay— I can’t make it okay.”
“You just gotta be here. That’s all I need.” His head dips to lean down, leaning on your shoulder.
“I will be. Always.” You say, never meaning anything more. It’s been years of you knowing Simon, just a little less than that being his, but you know this is it for you. Even when you first met him, you knew you’d always be there when he came home— waiting for him.
“We… we lost some good people this time. Just makes me think.” He hugs you closer, feeling his hands splay out in your sides. “This guy got caught in the crossfire, I don’t know what happened, but I watched them tell his girlfriend. She just lost it.”
You swallow hard, hearing his voice crack.
“The boys said they found her photo in his wallet. A ring, too. Was gonna propose.”
“Jesus.” He nods, head still firmly tucked into the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“I had to get out, come home for a bit after this one. I don’t want… there’s so much stuff I need to do, stuff I want to tell you about, and if I didn’t make it back—“
“Don’t think like that. You’ll always come home. You promised me you would.” Your throat tightens, trying your best not to cry at a time like this. You couldn’t help it when he spoke like that.
“I know, baby. I just mean…” He takes in a long breath, then looks up, tilting your head so he could look you in the eye. “I don’t wanna leave here without you knowing how much I— that I…”
“I know.” You let your fingertips drag softly along his jaw, but he shakes his head.
“No, I… fuck— I’m sorry.” You sit up, a little worried about where this is going. His hands leave your waist, holding your face in the same gentle way he did when he came home. “It just… you deserve so much, and I want to give it to you. The whole flight over— longer than that, I’ve been thinking about asking you something. I just don’t know how.”
“You can ask me anything.” Kneeling between his legs, your hands press to his chest, feeling the racing of his heart. You lean forward, kissing him, telling him all the words you can’t fit into the moment. Whatever he takes from it seems to be enough— because as well as he knew you, you knew him too. He pulls away, and when he does, you don’t see any traces of the man people seem to fear, or hate.
You just see him.
You nearly hold your breath in anticipation, watching as his eyes flit between your mouth and your eyes.
“Simon.” You say again, and his eyes flutter closed. Then he pulls you forward, and utters two words that shift your entire world on its axis.
“Marry me.”
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revasserium · 12 days
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i’m CRAVING a sanji fic rn 🤤🤤
maybe something on showing affection with him? cause i feel like he’s kinda superficial with his affection when first trying to get with u, but then as the relationship progresses the affection becomes so much more.
well ur in luck bc i do have a sanji fic cookin currently but who knows how long it'll take me to actually finish... in the meantime... here are some sanji domestic/affectionate!headcanons bc why not
in the beginning, it would be the grand gestures -- always waking you up with a kiss and coffee (or tea, if you're sick, or just don't feel like coffee that day) and your favorite foods; a bouquet of fresh flowers (do not ask him how he obtains these in the middle of the ocean; he will not tell you and robin remarks loftily one day that you might not like the answer)
in the beginning, he'd tell you he loves you every single hour, lest you forget for even a minute, even though it's only been like... a week and you're not entirely sure what "love" means quite yet
and then, it'd taper off, not because the 'honeymoon phase' is over, but because he'd find other ways to show you -- other ways of tellin you he loves you without telling you in so many words
there's still breakfast, but sometimes instead of coffee or tea, there's a book that you mentioned you'd been wanting to read, there's an origami crane folded out of the napkin with such excruciating care it almost breaks your heart, there's a note written in his sloppy, slanted handwriting that he dreamt of you last night and couldn't figure out if he wanted to wake up to tell you or keep sleeping not to break the fragile dream
and the "i love you"s become something else too -- they become "how did you sleep, love?" and "i knew you'd be craving that" and "c'mon, drink up -- there's more where that came from" and "tell me about your dreams" and "funny, those sound an awful lot like my dreams too".
it'd solidify, this kind of love -- his kind of love -- into something much quieter than anyone might suspect. this kind of love that simmers, the kind of love that curls around you like a hot bath, that draws you in
it's the way he always saves the wishbone whenver he cooks up any kind of bird, how he always waits till everything is done and the kitchen's all cleaned up before pulling you toward the counter, to the tiny little bone with it's winged flanges, him holding one end, the other offered out like a promise (or a wish)
you've pulled so many between you that you've lost count of how many wishes you've made, until you're laughing and complaining that you're running out of things to wish for
"what do you wish for?" you ask one day, when you've tugged and sanji gets the wish, to which he only looks at you and says, "always the same thing, actually. always... just another day with you."
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sweetiecutie · 7 months
Note
AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?
Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader
Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink
A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention
• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.
• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.
• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*
• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.
NSFW here~*•.
• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.
• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.
• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.
• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.
• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3
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missblissy · 5 months
Text
Little Things! Astarion x Reader HCs
A/n: 😤😤 I’m just gonna say it, ya’ll don’t have enough casual domestic relationship headcanons in these tags. To much smut. Y’all need some water, come up for air or something good god I love y’all but drink some fucking water 😂 So have some HCs of Tav and Astarion in Act 1. GN! Tav with no class/race as always UwU Also thank you so much for all the likes and kind words on my last post! I plan on opening my requests soon so be sure to follow to stay updated on when that happens. 💖☺️ Enjoy!
Was it even possible for someone to be annoyed… and pleased at the same time? Could a contradiction even exist? Yes. It could. And it baffled Astarion. Sure you had a pretty face, a nice laugh, a way with words… A shimmer in your eyes… a crooked grin that barely broke a smirk… The faint and unmissable sound of your heart beat… A smell so signature he could pick it up in the subtle breeze.
Just with the shift of wind and now he was tossing and turning in his tent. Huffing and throwing his blanket over half his face. Thoughts racing with you now, all the way on the other side of camp and no where near him. Not even in his sight. And still you were in his mind.
How annoying. This was just a misguided, maybe even a malicious attempt at forging an alliance. So why did he feel so… bad? His red eyes couldn’t close so he just stared at the fabric wall of his tent. A blank but also bitter stare on his face.
Out of all the books he read, and he read a lot, none of them actually showed him what real was. What was real passion? Not the mask he wore. What was real conviction and adoration? All he knew was what he’s done for centuries. And this was nothing but uncharted and unfamiliar territory.
So why was it your delightful and diluted scent in the wind alone just enough to send him reeling? He couldn’t know, or didn’t dare to wonder.
These little things didn’t stop there. During the day you’d bounce up to him with a skip in your step… that equally would send a skip right into his ribs and tore up his lungs. With big bright eyes you’d show him something random, something you found, something you made… it didn’t matter.
Just the way you beamed with a radiant smile the sun could be jealous of, it was enough for a snide back handed comment that could be confused for a flirt, “Oh darling, for me? You shouldn’t have, you might just be one of my most devoted fans,” Normally a line like this worked. Either it would send the conversation towards the bedroom or someone left standing alone.
Neither happened. You just rolled your eyes, gave a little laugh and said, “A fan? In your dreams,” And go on chatting like before, unfazed by his little remarks. You were an enigma to him.
Especially during times after a battle. It was always such a gentle touch, when you’d place a hand on his shoulder and praise him for his good work and efforts in the battle.
If vampires had blood to blush he would. He didn’t understand why he wanted to hear more of it, “That was a good job you did out there today,” or maybe it was the way you said, “You did amazing,” He could listen to praises all day. He never knew how much he enjoyed them before.
Let’s not forget, he could hear your heartbeat. Not yours alone. Everyone had a different rhythm and rhyme. For instants Shadowheart, her heart was slow, sad, faint but still beating away with life. Astarion could hear it, just the same as Lae’zel who seemingly had no heart beat at all until the surprising thumb of it came every hour or so. He could hear yours too. Rattle away within your bones. And he paid close attention.
Normally these ‘skills’ of listening to hearts were used to hunt out a target for his master. But with no master and a band of fools, he still used these skills unbeknownst to himself.
He’d listen with eyes glued to a book. You’re heart pitter pattered like any other. But sometimes it’d start racing, picking up speed. Not to long ago a racing heart was the first step into picking a target, since the heart never lies and when a fool looked Astarion’s way if their heart sang that song he knew who would be his unfortunate soul.
But no, this time he just peered from over his book and watched you stare off into the distance, into the darkness of the woods. To his surprise there wasn’t a glance his way or even at anyone. Your heart only raced for fear it seemed. Even when you looked at him or shared a conversation, the same steady beat flowed.
It was something little like this, these little things only he knew as they festered in his mind. They ached within him. He hid it well but it wretched at his organs and plucked at his fibers every time. It was annoying. It was… wonderful…
It was terrifying. The way his breathe would catch when you’d ask him to join you. The way he actually felt anger, as petty as it was, when you asked him to stay back at camp.
Or maybe when he’d hear just the sound of your voice, distant on the other side of camp, muffled, not even loud enough to hear what you were saying but just enough to hear your voice. How strange that something so little as that was enough to ease him into sleep.
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groceryreceiptss · 5 months
Note
hii! could you do peeta melark x reader? just some domestic sunday morning cuddling :) thanks so much!
'cause it's gravity, keeping you with me
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peeta mellark x reader | word count : 0.9k | requested
a/n : hii!! to be honest, i wasn't really sure on how to write this so i'm really sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, but i tried my best, and i hope you'll enjoy reading it either way! :) thank you for the request < 33 (also yes, i know the picture i chose doesn’t quite match the theme of this fic but look at him!! and look at that golden light on his face!!!)
contains : baddd writing. fluff -> soft intimacy!! but a bit of angst too if you squint. you know, longings and a sense of vulnerability. feelings of hopelessness and despair in the past. let me know if there's more!
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the soft morning sun drifted its way to your face, resting its warm light against your closed eyes. you were just about to give yourself an excuse to sleep in a bit later before you subconsciously remembered that, today is a sunday. no business in waking up early then, you thought, as you pulled the blanket closer.
you shifted a bit and shuffled in closer to peeta’s body next to you. His breathing met at the same pace as yours and his heartbeat the same thrum as the one you had going.
peeta mellark. you knew it was silly to dwell on what could have and would have, but every day, each morning, as you woke up to his comforting presence next to you, you couldn’t help but wonder, what would your life have become, if he hadn’t been there to keep it going?
the war had destroyed everything, leaving trails of loss in its path, wider than the land itself. you didn’t know what you would have done, if you hadn’t seen him again. if he hadn’t come back to your life and reminded you that there were still reasons to live and try to heal for.
and every day you woke up feeling more grateful than the day before.
you didn’t know if an hour had passed, or had it been merely minutes later, when you felt peeta’s arms on your waist, pulling you back onto his chest, engulfing you in more of his warmth, his comfort. his head nested on the crook of your neck, his messy golden blonde hair on your cheek.
in response and out of habit, you brought your hands to his curls, smoothing them softly.
“y/n, sweetheart?” he muttered, and you could feel his lips on your shoulder, sending vibrations onto your skin and bone. it was crazy how he could still make your heart skipped a beat like it was the first time.
“hm?” you responded, still not ready to part with sleep too much to say anything else.
his lips lost touch with your skin and moved on to your ear, whispering, “turn around, look at me please.” 
and so you slowly did. with your eyes still refusing to open, you felt his fingers playing with your hair, pulling them off your forehead. 
“morning, sleepyhead.” he chuckled, and you could tell that he was playfully rolling his eyes. he kissed your temple slowly, and you let your eyes flutter open. 
rubbing your eyes in an effort to erase the sleep out of them, you mumbled, “how are you already awake? it’s sunday.”
“old habits die hard,” he’d answered before you felt his hands on your wrists, stroking them softly with his thumbs. 
you placed your arms around his chest, and as if on cue, he pulled you closer to him, earning him a soft sigh. “do you think it’s physically possible for us to get any closer?” he wondered aloud with a way too cute smile on his face.
still not entirely conscious, you muttered without thinking, “maybe once our bodies have withered into skeletons." oh, you caught yourself. “oh wait, that's dark.” 
he let out a light laugh at your scrunched up eyebrows. “i love you.” 
you looked up at him, into his deep beautiful blue eyes. his eyelashes are so long. “i love you too, peet.” 
and you did, you really did. you told him that everyday, but you never did think it was enough. it was so dramatic to actually utter it, but you truly didn’t think there was enough variety in the english dictionary to fully capture this. this thing that passed between you and him.
as if hearing your quiet thoughts, maybe your eyes had displayed a moment of fragility in them, he responded saying, “i know, love, i know.” 
the grip on your waist held on tighter, like it was scared if it faltered, then it would lose. you mirrored his gesture and snuggled your head further into his chest, the top of your head touching his chin. 
“you want to get some breakfast?” he mumbled into your tousled hair. 
you thought about it for a second, but then shook your head. you looked up at him, a wide smile etched onto your face. “no, i’m good here.” 
you didn’t want to leave this yet, this sacred place. one where you could feel his signs of life all around you, one where you could shut the entire world all around you and its bleak reality and made it only consist of you and him. peeta mellark. 
was it possible to fall further in love with the same person every time you heard his name in your head? was it possible to have the same name echoed through your head over and over like a promise?
you saw his lips formed into a bigger smile, his fingers played with the strands of your hair. 
maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t, but all he could think about  at this very moment was how he had gotten so lucky. to have you here beside him, letting him love you and and letting him show it to you. he looked at your face, with that big smile on it, eyes still bleary from sleep. you were so beautiful, my god. 
he nodded, agreed. he didn’t want to leave too. if he could stay here forever, he would. it would be like having lived a lifetime itself, he thought. “yeah, me too." he said softly as he planted a kiss on your forehead. 
836 notes · View notes
greycaelum · 6 months
Note
My shoujo ass cant stop thinking of kenma and masaki wit my baby sai...................
Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { First Princess }
—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
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𑁍 Genre: fluff, domestic life, parenthood
𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.7k)—/overprotective Dad Satoru, he's having a girl dad dilemma, lovey-dovey moments, fluff, overall domestic life, 3rd munchkins cameo, slight mention of jujutsu society, childhood friends—/
𑁍 A/N: Trick or Treat! And Satoru got the treat from his Baby Cat! In exchange for a stomachache~
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Gojo Satoru... never in his life thought he would die this early...
He can't believe time has passed so much that his bones are starting to hurt when he moves or that his already white hair can get any whiter... or that—
"Love... I have never once doubted where our kids got their drama skills." You sighed, interrupting his monologue.
"Baby!" Your husband whined from the couch and stomped his feet. "She's just 13!"
"Exactly... Calm down 'Toru." You sighed and wiped your hands on your apron. You could see Kouki watching over his two younger siblings in the backyard... Satoru, on the other hand, is having a midlife crisis because of his first daughter.
Barefooted, he trudged to the kitchen and hugged you from the back, a petulant pout on his lips.
"I should have taught her to kick harder as a kid. Maybe I should enroll our daughters in an all-girls school instead. It's not too late y—"
You stuff his mouth with the mochi you're making, effectively shutting him up and, at the same time, calming him down. His ranting turned to munching, and his chattering mouth soon turned to a chin resting on your shoulder while you make snacks for the kids with a husband stuck to your back, hugging you like a teddy bear, asking for bites of what you're making.
You wiped your hand after putting the new batch of brownies you made in the oven.
"You know Saika would never intentionally do anything to make you disappointed. But she's a growing girl, a very good girl at that. Barring her from exploring will not solve the problem." You sighed and turned around to stare at your husband's pouting lips. Gosh, he never grew up from the pouting phase. "If we try to stop her from exploring, she might tend to be sneaky instead. How can we give her guidance if she doesn't feel accepted?" You smiled at Satoru, washing off his worries with your words.
"I know... It's just that..." Satoru blew out a frustrated sigh. "I don't want her to get hurt. She's too young for this, y'know..." He hugged you, burying his face in your neck.
You inhale a large breath and pat his back, empathizing with your husband and his dilemma for being a girl dad. You wonder if you'll ever feel this too with your sons... Or if your husband is simply just being the sensitive big teddy bear he is.
"Y'know, Love..." You trailed and took his face in your hands. "I hate to break it to you like this, but..." You chuckled. "Saika is just with her classmates doing a school project."
Saika has been telling you for one week straight how she's so excited to go over to her friend's house for the first time and do their project, something about some baking activity in home economics, which you agreed with delight. Satoru was also happy about it... until he asked who was her group partners.
"Masaki and Kenma and Iori, and..."
The rest of her partners were ignored the second Satoru heard familiar names.
"Masaki... Kenma?"
"Still! Did you see how that Chiba boy dared come to my doorstep every Tuesday morning to pick up my Cat? That brat, when he grows up, I swear when he grows u—"
You poked his cheeks with your fingers, stopping his plans.
"Baby, you see that?" You pointed to your eldest son, making flower crowns for his youngest sister while his younger brother kept climbing on his back. "You and Kouki have been watching over her since she was born. Do you think your son will be this calm if he doesn't trust Saika's friends? We both know how protective he is of her sister, and he knows Masaki because he goes to school with him almost daily."
You kissed Satoru's frowning brow, easing his temples while his arms remained around your waist, still with the bit of pout on his lips but not as hysterical as earlier.
"Can you blame me? I'm clingy with my first princess." Satoru sighed. "She was so tiny when I first held her. I was so scared if I breathed too deep, she would cry. She's so precious and fragile that I can't handle it. If she cries, it would crush me..." Satoru's words were muffled as he sank into your arms.  
"Mnnn... I know. Must prepare our youngest girl if you suddenly bawl out when she finally gets a boyfriend two decades later.
You didn't have to pull his face up to your eyes to know how Satoru turned several shades paler and sucked a nervous gasp against your collarbone. You saw your two youngest munchkins run to the front yard and the famous single-double tone of knock on your doorsteps.
He left you as quick as a bullet train and ran to the door where, as expected, his Cat was, holding a basket of sweets, and behind her... was someone Satoru would pronounce as his mortal enemy years from now.
Maybe because Masaki is the one he often sees, Satoru never really paid attention to Kenma. That was a long time ago. Saika was just a toddler back then, oblivious to what a 'boyfriend' meant, and took it too literally as a male friend.
"Papa! Look, I made mochi for you!" Saika's eyes lit up, and excitedly enumerated the sweet he brought home for everyone.
"Hey Princess, did you make all these? Lemme have this one~" Satoru looked in the basket and got a cheese stick, then praised his daughter for making them very good... that's a lie, it tastes like the Baumkuchen you threw out coz it was three days expired. But he can't possibly say that in front of his precious daughter, who will probably cause him to go in and out of the toilet later.
"Sir, good afternoon."
A serious voice greeted Satoru.
In his straight stance, hands behind his back and feet against each other, Masaki bowed to Satoru. Saika was used to this. Masaki would greet her Papa, and her Papa would grunt with the same constipated look he always had every time Masaki came into their home.
"Masaki-kun, thank you for bringing Saika home safely." You appeared behind Satoru with a smile. The kid looked up and greeted you formally as well.
"Good afternoon, Lady Y/n..." The young boy visibly softened his stance at your sight, but when he saw Satoru watching him like a hawk, Masaki instantly straightened up again like a soldier under his supervisor's stern glare.
"How about you come inside for tea, Masaki-kun? I made some baklava." You warmly invited, patting Satoru's shoulder in silent warning. Saika already went inside, calling her siblings.
"I... I'd love to, Lady Y/n, but my mother told me to be home by 3 in the afternoon." The boy looked a bit somber as he turned down your offer. You know his parents are stricter than others, so you cannot find fault in such an answer.
"Then next time, I'll make some milk pan. Saika loves those." You didn't miss how his eyes sparkled at your offer and the subtle scoff of Satoru on the side.
The kid waved goodbye, but just then, a rushing Saika almost collided with you in the hallway. She ran past you and Satoru towards Masaki, who was already at the gate.
You couldn't hear what they were saying, but based on the cellophane-wrapped baklava your daughter was handing towards Masaki, you could only chuckle and hold down the hand of your seething husband, dragging him a little more inside the house, just enough so the two of you can spy on the kids.
Your husband silently huffs and walks into the house, holding the basket of sweets Saika brought home, calling the kids to share the treat. Though you didn't miss how he ordered his men to watch over Masaki to make sure the boy reached the Chiba Estate safely.
Later that night, you saw Satoru talking to Saika over an ice cream, the two of them huddled up on the couch, playing some Mario Kart.
"Papa doesn't like Masaki, Mama?" Kouki, in his pajamas, walked closer to you, asking you to dry his long hair from the shower.
"You know your Papa, you'd never hear the end of it if it comes to boys." You carefully wring out the excess water from his artic tresses while he hummed and stared at his sister and father fighting over the last spoon of the ice cream.
"Masaki is better," Kouki said with a long look.
"Why so?" Oh? You quirk a brow at your eldest's remark.
"His family is a branch of the Gojo Clan, though the Chiba clan is a minor family, at least that lessens the complexity of explaining about normal citizens and sorcerers." Kouki huffs.
"Since when did my son start thinking of this stuff? Sweetheart? Is that all?" You chuckled and hugged your eldest, pinching his nose. 
"Of course, it also makes it easier to hunt him down if he hurts Cat's feelings," Kouki grumbled with a pout. Just like his father, thankfully, your youngest son is just a toddler, or else you don't know how to keep your three boys from guarding their sister like an apparition against other men.
"Mama! That's unfair. You didn't comb my hair tonight." Saika called from the living room as she saw her brother all fluffy and well-groomed from your hands.
"I can comb it for you, Cat!" Satoru added. Kouki soon joined the huddle, poking fun at his sister.
Needless to say, whoever tries to ask for your daughter's hand, they'll have to go through a lot. She is, after all, the first princess of the most important boys in her life... Just like that, you can't help but wish that if ever... she did find the man of her life, he would treat her as precious as you all have treasured her... Just like how her father has cherished you, or maybe even more.
Satoru chuckled and put down the comb.
"See, my Little Treasure is as pretty as ever!"
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan
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argreion · 1 month
Note
Can i request some more girl dad Leon, or some hcs regarding this? I just love domestic fluff with Leon ughhh i love him :((((
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Thank you for sending a ask wonderful anon! (Didn’t expect an anon to ask THIS fast!)
So, I know that what I wrote was subpar, considering it was one of the first times I ever wrote in general. Should expand on what we've seen, y'know?
Apologies if the drabble is a bit iffy with pacing. I feel a little out of place amongst writers due to like... How I write. That feels weird to say- 😭
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Girl Dad Leon! headcanons and a drabble!
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I'll start with the first thing I can see. The dressing up.
❀ He will occasionally dress up for his daughter. Leon curses himself out in his head, as he'd forced you to help him. Tighten the built-in corset, help him with his hair, and please... Don't make him wear heels!
❀ First, it would be a Disney princess, then once he has to deal with Barbie? Or a superhero? Superman? Batman? Spider-Man? Man, he's finally out. He draws the line at a princess, unless the puppy eyes and crying are used against him.
❀ Fine! He finally caved in, with an annoyed, defeated sigh. The outfit is bought on Amazon, amidst your bickering for him to not buy something off eBay. (Look, he's sorry, ok? He may get a decent sum of money each paycheck. Leon is relatively cheap, or looking for a bargain. Blame the kid in him for wanting to save money!)
❀ The only reason he does it is that he loves his daughter, ok!? Maybe you compliment or tease him on being saved by a 'hero', but that doesn't matter! At the end of the day, he doesn't mind as he's forced to save your daughter from one of her stuffies.
Saving another civilian (or being a princess for your child) is a good deed to him. Something else he looks forward to every day, even with the aches in his bones, bruises on his body, and constant doctor visits.
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Next are a few other things I have to add on this subject because I do see Leon as a dad who has a daughter AND a son. This is just purely if he has a daughter, so don't mind that. Fluffy stupidity up ahead!
❀ Make-up. Make-up. Make-up. Let's be honest, who hasn't played with make-up a bit when they were a little girl? His daughter has certainly got into a few places she shouldn't! Dabble a little sparkly blue eyeshadow on her dad's eyelids. Smudge some highly pigmented red on Daddy's lips. Isn't he beautiful, mama? Looks like he came out of the circus? Yep, that's the make-up for ya!
❀ Stickers on his motorcycle... Stickers on his helmet. Wears them with pride on his helmet. Even if the laughs of his co-workers, Hunnigan at some points, and Chris! He'd punch Chris if he could, but he can't let his daughter see daddy 'roughhousing' with his friend. Sends his daughter after Chris as revenge for laughing at him. Still the favorite thing of his daughter in general. He'd purposefully buy stickers and let her stick them on anything of his. No guns, though, no guns.
❀ Will sneak a little treat for his daughter before dinner. Shhh, don't tell your mom, ok? He'll probably get hounded for it, and we both know he's a sucker for the two girls in his life. It's a Daddy-Daughter secret, m'kay?
❀ BEDTIME STORIES? Any day that Leon is there and not on a mission, Leon will take his time to read a bedtime story. His favorite is his daughter's favorite because it brings her the most joy! Anything that makes his daughter happy he'll note in the back of his mind. Has fallen asleep with his daughter. (Take a picture and keep it, but also send it to Leon. He'll want it for memories.)
Now for the small thought in my head...
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
How many years had it been since you and Leon went on vacation? Going down to the Bahamas like every rich American did. Or every stressed, overworked dad suggested with a maniacal look on their face. This time, it wouldn't be the two of you. A plus one which was your daughter joined the pair of you. Joined you on the plane to Italy, and in the very Gelateria you stood in with Leon.
It was nice to get away from the smog filled city and the screams of fighting couples. Being able to appreciate the view of the nearby bridge and the welcoming ambience of another country. Asides from avoiding the scams and having to chase down a toddler once or twice... It was nice!
Your daughter was pointing out the window with babbles of joy. Leon was using his mother language as he paid for the gelato for the trio of you. Keeping your daughter beside you was fairly easy, as she waited for a sweet treat. How you wish minutes ago she wasn't screaming, and the only way a kid calms down is with something sweet.
So, why not let your child taste your home country?
“Grazie ancora una volta.” Leon thanked, followed with a small nod as he made his way through the small line towards the pair of you. A smile on his face as a scheme was brought into play. Well, not exactly a scheme—more so just being an ass.
While you pay attention outside the window, an unknown presence crept up behind you. The use of military training in his favor as you spoke with your daughter,
“What do you think of Italy so far?” You questioned, looking down at her. Gently squeezing her hand as she hummed.
The little girl replied, not turning her head from the window. Pointer's finger pressed to the cold glass, leaving a faint smudge as you gently tugged her away. “Daddy said this place was cool when he lived here. Right now, it's just really hot.” She looked up at you, her brows furrowed. “Are you sure daddy was right that this place is cool?”
A response fell dead right on your lips as the feeling of frigidness gently touched your cheek. Your reaction time was slow as a small chuckle came from Leon's lips.
“It'll be cooler with these, bambola.”
Why'd you groan? At the cheesiness or the joke that only managed to make your daughter squeal. Already moving away to go after her father. Like the cookie monster but instead for the sister of ice cream.
You brushed the small bit of gelato off your cheek. A hint of annoyance now bubbling in your system as you brought it to your lips. Trying the flavor that seemed to please you. Silky
“What's this?” You asked, meeting Leon's gaze as he heard the question. The dad is already in the process of handing the small gelato cone off to his daughter.
“It's gelato?” Leon confusingly answered. “I tho-”
“No, no, what's the flavor?”
Was he that forgetful? He lets himself choose the flavors and doesn't even think to tell you? It made you slightly regret even getting with him at this point. Maybe you should've sat down with him to talk about his memory. Not that he'd remember that, anyway.
“It's uh, Cream Caramel. Reminds me of when I was young.”
Leon smiled, with the slight tilt of his hand, as he responded with a more detailed answer. One of the traits you grew to hate and love as he answered. The gelato slowly slid off until...
“Merda!”
Jumping at the loud cuss of your daughter, eyes wide as you snapped your neck to stare at her. Her eyes meeting her father's gelato on the cold, lonely floor. Why were you almost cackling? Leon was staring at the gelato, and you were barely holding in your laugh?
“Where'd you learn that, sweetie?” Leon asked, forcing a smile on his face as a small part of him died on the inside. Brain wanting to cry as he accepted the fact his childhood fell down onto the floor.
Your daughter paused, frozen. Mimicking the statues from earlier as you toured Florence.
“D-dad.” Was the only thing she squeaked out.
When she said that, regret was the only thing that could describe the two of you meeting eyes. One for the fact they let Leon cuss near their child. The other for even saying it.
He knew he should've stuck to overtime as he realized the fuck-up he did.
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Writer Gods from above, please don't end my soul for not writing for a month. 🙏
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magic-hcs · 5 months
Note
If your requests are still open, can I ask for some hc's from the guys from HT and HF where the reader praises them and kisses their scars? these poor boys need more love 😭😭♡
These boys so do need more love! Thank you for being patient with me, I enjoyed writing this!
Warnings: light angst, insecurities, low self-esteem, mentions of trauma
Bear: Horrortale Sans
Bean: Horrortale Papyrus
Rust: horrorfell Sans
Thatch: Horrorfell Papyrus
Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨
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✨✨
Bear: The purrs are loud with this one as your lips sweetly press against the little cracks and dents in his bones. At least, as long as you stay away from the gaping hole in his skull. It’s way too sensitive for your lips, not to mention, the edges are sharp. Bear would feel so bad if you accidentally cut yourself on it.
Don’t get me started on when you start to throw praises and doting on him with words into the mix, my will be man is a goner plain and simple.
Of course, in the beginning when you start to do this, Bear short-circuits and needs to process what you just did. But he will always accept any affection you want to give him. Only when you move on or leave Bear to his own thoughts do the intrusive little buggers start to plague him with insecurities.
They range from jabs at his conditions, his appearance and past. Trying to pick him apart and disprove all the praises and love you’ve just given him. Ever the stubborn man who struggles with it internally, refusing to burden anyone else with it, tries to push through it and ignore his thoughts. Which has never helped him at all - one would think he finally gets that it's not healthy or helpful behavior after so long of doing it and it backfiring in his face.
Luckily, Bean is observant and perceptive, knowing his dear brother like no other, helpfully nudges him open. (By playing the we-will-always-be-truthful-to-each-other-card…No one ever said that Bean doesn’t play dirty. If it helps his brother in the long run, he’s making use of it). And of course, it helps. Once he opened up to you about it and you two found a way to not trigger his intrusive thoughts - by spreading your praises and scar kissings throughout the day instead of all in one go - Bear will always readily accept any affections you give him.
✨✨
Bean: At the start of the relationship - when monsters haven’t surfaced all that long ago - Bean noticed you had gotten way more affectionate towards him than you had been before. Which, of course, isn’t a bad thing; everyone is different and some people just get more touchy and lovey when in a romantic relationship. But it did lightly trigger his skepticism like a knee-jerk reaction.
Back in the underground…well, let’s just say that Bean has a good reason why he looks for meanings behind certain actions and behavior thanks to some who acted nice not out of the goodness of their soul or heart.
It’s not your fault of course, nor could Bean be at fault.
Just something from the past that Bean took with him to the surface.
You don’t have to worry however, he knows you well enough to know that you don’t have any ulterior motive with your affections. So for Bean it will be easy enough to push those reflexive skeptical thoughts aside, or rationalize them.
Once he gets used to it, he’ll return the favor. You want to kiss Bean’s scars? Go right ahead, while you’re doing that, Bean will place skelekisses on your marked skin. Tracing his phalanges sweetly over the dents and lighter or darker lines on your body, while he himself shivers slightly as your lips press against the cracks on his bones. It’s a very sweet and domestic quality time between the two of you. It becomes even better when either one of you had been having a tough day, building each other up with each tender kiss.
Bean cannot quite imagine a life without your sweet, sweet kisses. He treasures them and you deeply.
✨✨
Rust: It’s a healing feeling that Rust at first didn’t know what to do with. He stood there, frozen while you kissed his scars. Trying to process what’s going on inside him and what you’re doing. There had been times when Rust stared at you with his sometimes unnerving unblinking gaze before asking “…why?”.
It’s a slow progress of him getting used to it, but it’s so worth it in the end.
Now, Rust knows and been with you long enough to know when you’re about to shower him in praises and kisses. To say he adores those times is an understatement. He wants to completely lean and sag against you as you nuzzle him. Whispering sweet nothings in his non-existent ear while you kiss every crack, scar and dent that litters his face.
But there’s a time that is his favorite when you decide to pamper him like this. And that is when the two of you lie in bed together, either when waking up in the morning, or going to sleep or just cuddling together. With you either snuggled up to his side or lying on his bare chest (yes he has shoved some pillows inside his ribcage to make it more comfortable for you. And yes it feels weird to have those things inside his ribs but anything for you, not that he would say it out loud.)
It feels warm, it feels intimate. The way you look at him in the eyelight, murmuring so sweetly as you stroke your fingers across his scarred ribs and bones. And you do without a motive, you just want to do this. Showing Rust love and care he had never thought he’d wanted, desired, craved or needed. And oh, how he needed and craved it. Your love is like a silky cloth that gets softly pulled across his bones like a gentle wave. It’s a liquid warmth that fills the cracks and mental scars putting him back together like one does a treasured vase with golden glue.
✨✨
Thatch: Oh, oh gosh… Thatch doesn’t know what to do with this, honestly. His mind cannot really wrap around it? After all, how could he deserve such love from you that you just want to shower him with praises and kiss the cracks in his face and ribs? How is he supposed to function when you take his prosthetic arm and hand in yours and kiss the fingers and knuckles so tenderly? Never taking your eyes - that are full of so, so much love that he is undeserving of - off his own sockets.
You know of his past, he knows you do, he has told you himself that night full of so many tears and vulnerability. So Thatch can’t really grasp that despite it all, despite you knowing what he did, the monster that he is in every single way possible, you still hold him as if he deserves something. As if he deserves to be loved, that he deserves to be reassured.
You’re breaking him in even tinier little pieces, unraveling him at the seams, slowly but surely, until all that's left of him…and you’re putting him back together with such care and gentle hands and lips with every touch, with every kiss and words of praise.
It’s after a long time that Thatch slowly starts to be able to mentally accept the affections you wish to bestow upon him. And it’s after an even longer time that he manages to push the little voice in the back of his mind that whispers; ‘they don’t truly mean that, they don’t truly love you. It’s just pity,’ away.
✨✨
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✨✨
Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.
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ad0rechuu · 4 months
Text
FROM STORM TO SUNRISE. ━━ JYH & SMG
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prompts / plot. ━━━━━ you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found
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part of the secret santa event. ━━━━━ fem! foreigner!reader x boyfriends! jeong yunho & song mingi , domestic fluff / slight angst (?) / an attempt at humor / soulmate au , staring: yn, yunho, mingi, mrs yang (oc) & an unnamed baker + cashier , tw: mentions of food, metaphorical storms and tornadoes and yn is basically panicking most of the time , wc: 1421 , notes: no pronouns used but fem reader + foreigner part not mentioned and yunho & mingi aren’t soulmates but this is all because of the prequel, also i imagined the town from hometown cha cha cha for this fic !
[ to @justhere4kpop aka nadia . . . ] happy holidays (and merry christmas if you celebrate) nadia! i was your secret santa, did you have any idea? either way i have to start by apologizing i was planning a much larger fic but than a bunch of things in my personal life came crashing down so i decided to continue writing the other fic (the prequel to this one) later which means you will get two gifts ! i know the writing is terrible with this one but if you liked this someone how it’s a nice surprise for both of us! i hope you have a wonderful day and i love you mwah <3
[ listening to . . . ] Dreamy Day by Ateez
masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33
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WARM RAYS OF SUNSHINE SHONE GENTLY THROUGH THE LARGE WINDOW, ALLOWING YOU TO WAKE UP IN PEACE.
You slowly opened your eyes while you stretched your arms up from underneath the blankets, a smile making its way onto your face as you felt the arm draped over your stomach move you closer in his tight grip.
Turning, you met your boyfriend’s squinting eyes. Clearly, he'd just woken up too. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck and placed a kiss underneath your shirt on your bare shoulder— a silent good morning.
You'd just woken up and you already felt giddy. You moved your hand to the mattress next to you, searching for your other boyfriend’s warm body.
Your eyes opened fully, head snapping to his usual side of the bed when you realize he wasn't there. A small storm of worry brewed in your chest as you nudged your present partner, who seemed close to going back to dreamland.
He whined a bit and it took every bone in your body not to coo at him. You managed to get over your cuteness aggression enough to ask.
“Yunho, honey, where is Mingi?”
He was the early bird in your relationship after all. If anyone would know, it would be Yunho.
To your surprise, he didn't.
“I don’t know? Maybe in the kitchen? Bathroom?” He slurred, clearly not feeling the same sense of urgency as you yet.
“M’kay. I’m gonna look for Mingi. I’ll be right back.” You ruffled his already messy hair before removing yourself from his comfortable grip. The movement only caused more whining from the sleepy giant.
Yunho heard you make your way through the apartment. Your bare feet making a rhythm of soft steps on the linoleum floor, and your groggy but comforting morning voice called out Mingi’s name over and over again.
Your voice got more and more nervous with each call of his name ringing out with no response.
When you walked back into the bedroom, Yunho was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in his hands. He gave you a worried look, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with him.
“Nothing?” He asked.
You fell back on the bed with a sigh as you shook your head no, racking your brain for where your boyfriend could possibly be at nine in the morning on the weekend. You felt Yunho reach over and gently push some hair out your face in an attempt to calm you down.
“I tried texting him but I got no answer either.”
Just as you were about to respond, a sharp feeling washed over you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.
You knew what that feeling meant. It only happened when your soulmate was experiencing a strong emotion. It could range from heartbreaking sadness to mind boggling happiness to excruciating pain.
You jumped up, clutching the arm that has Mingi’s soulmate mark on it. Your eyes met Yunho's.
“I think Mingi is in trouble!”
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SADLY, A SOULMATE BOND did not include a GPS. At least, that was not the kind you were blessed with. That would have saved you the trouble of walking aimlessly through the town in your pajamas and winter coats.
Due to Yunho not being Mingi’s soulmate and your soulmate mark being basically sharing skin with Mingi, you were no further than when you left the house half an hour ago.
Yunho wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing it in an attempt to shield you from the cold morning weather on the island. It was a sweet gesture. The growing panic heated your cheeks more then enough, but you appreciated the comfort of it nonetheless.
He stopped his brisk pace for a second and looked at you like a lightbulb went off in his head.
“Have you tried writing to him?” He asked.
You responded immediately by looking through your pockets for a pen or a marker, or anything that could stain your skin, but to no avail.
Yunho had the same luck. But he pointed you to the closest store, and without any words needed, the two of you rushed into the building, probably giving the poor cashier a heart attack.
“Excuse me, do you have a pen or something I could borrow? It’s an emergency!” You panted as her face contorted in confusion. She reached over next to her and handed you a pen anyway.
Before you could, Yunho quickly but gently raised your sleeve up, baring your arm for you. Despite the pressure, it made you want to giggle like a school girl. You kept your lovey-dovey feelings to yourself and began to write.
‘Song Mingi, where the hell are you?’
Normally, whenever you’d write something on your body and vice versa (left side for Mingi, and right for Yunho), the receiving party could felt a tingling sensation even before reading the message. You hoped with all your being that Mingi received that sensation right then too.
After staring at your arm for five minutes, you began to feel your heart speed up even more when you heard Yunho gasp from next to you as the letters you previously wrote where erased.
Finally, you felt the storm that had turned into a tornado in your heart calm down a bit, and the letters you wrote were replaced by messy yet familiar handwriting revealing Mingi’s location.
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THERE HE WAS.
Through the display window of the bakery, you and Yunho saw him.
Mingi clutched a colorful box while one of the village elders, Mrs. Yang, pulled on the other side. Both seemed to be in an intense battle as the baker behind the counter watched the two awkwardly.
The closer you got, the more it hit you; the sharp feeling you felt wasn’t sadness, anger, or pain— it was his sheer competitiveness.
Yunho held the door open and both of you stepped through with the sound of the bell signaling your arrival. The baker gave you a friendly nod, but neither Mingi nor Mrs. Yang seemed to notice you, still too fixated on arguing over what you now saw was a beautifully decorated cake.
“Song Mingi!” Your voice resounded through the store as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.
The man in question immediately forgot about the cake and trailed towards you like a puppy. He looked at you and Yunho with big eyes full of confusion.
“Baby, what're you doing here? Gosh, both of you are wearing pajamas, aren’t you way too cold?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.
He tossed Yunho a judgmental look as if suspecting he was the reason you guys were here.
The older man flicked Mingi’s forehead before shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. None of this would’ve happened if you knew how to answer your phone or leave a note.”
“Yeah, we were so worried something happened.” You grabbed his attention along with one of the hands that was still on your cheek.
Mingi looked down sheepishly, his cheeks slightly reddening.
“Ah, I’m sorry. You said you were craving cake yesterday so I wanted to surprise you and Yunho with cake as breakfast in bed.” He pointed behind him, doing a double take as the cake he was just ready to risk his life for was long gone.
A heartbroken expression made its way onto his face. He looked at the baker, who only chuckled.
“I’m sorry, man. You snooze you lose.”
The baker pointed outside, where Mrs. Yang was gleefully walking away from the bakery with the precious cake in her hands.
Yunho let out a boisterous laugh, clutching his stomach as you patted the pouting boy’s cheek. Though that wasn't to say you weren't trying to reign your own laughter in as well.
“It’s okay, Ming! It’s the thought that counts.”
After a couple more minutes of comforting Mingi about his lost battle, he finally agreed to get another sweet pastry (which Yunho demanded to choose as compensation for everything).
As you three walked out of the store, you didn’t feel a storm or a tornado brewing in your chest. You felt a lovely calm wash over you as both of your boyfriends linked hands with you, one carrying the box with a well-deserved red velvet cake in it on the way home.
All the worry was replaced in no time with a warm domestic sunrise growing in your heart, and you knew exactly who were to blame for that.
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet
notes. again i did the gen tag list on hopes and prayers so i hope i have it right, please tell me if u want to be removed or added
taglist. @yuyusuyu @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @mrowwww @i-luvsang @cybrsan @kodzumo @gyumibear @nyukyujs @a1sh1teruu | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)
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strangersmunsons · 1 year
Text
fried egg I'm in love
Eddie makes you breakfast.
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Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!reader, established relationship, pet names, Eddie fries you some eggs because you should always eat breakfast before a big day. No mention of reader’s physical appearance, no use of Y/N. Warnings: mentions of food & eating (obvi). Word Count: 1,200-ish i am completely delighted by @mcbeanzontoast 's artwork and these sweet lil drawings (1, 2) of Eddie are all i can think about, thank u for the inspo bb! <3 btw srry if this isn't how you like your eggs or if u hate alt-rock themed puns. but personally i feel very strongly about the over-medium thing.
“Eddie. Eddie.”
There’s still no response from the motionless lump on the bed. He’s twisted up in the thin, pilled sheets like he tried to fight them and lost. 
His breathing is slow and even, clearly still in a deep sleep. You hope his dreams are pleasant, but not so pleasant that he’ll be upset with you for what you’re about to do.
You lean closer to where you think his ear might be. It’s hidden under a mass of thick curls, but you're pretty sure you’re in the right spot.
“Eddie!” 
It comes out even louder than you intended. Oops.
“Huh!”
Eddie jolts awake and tries to roll over, but only succeeds in tangling himself further in the bedding. He squirms and struggles against the taut fabric for a minute, before giving up and letting his body go limp. His face scrunches against the brightness of the room, peering at you with squinted eyes.
You, who have already been awake for an hour. You, who have already washed and dressed and tidied yourself up. You, who are looking at him rather expectantly…? His full lips pull down in a frown.
“What gives?” he grumbles, unhappy to be conscious before noon. As usual.
“Sorry honey, but you didn’t hear me the first four times I tried.”
He sighs, then lets out a sudden gasp. He tries to sit upright, lurching sideways, still thrashing against that damn sheet. “Your interview!”
Bingo!
“Yes, my interview,” you say, too amused and in love with him to be exasperated. “Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time. But you can barely function when you first wake up and I can’t have you falling asleep behind the wheel. I figured I’d get you up now so you have time to adjust.” You reach out and cup his face, rubbing a thumb over his stubbly cheek.
He turns his head in your hand so he can kiss your palm. “Good thinkin', sweetheart. That’s why you’re the brains of this operation.”
You help untangle him and wander out into the kitchen while he heads for the bathroom. Because even bone-deep exhaustion is no match for Eddie's mouth, he pokes his head out so he can talk to you. “How’re you feeling, baby?” The words are garbled and foamy with toothpaste.
“Okay,” you call back from your seat at the table. Well, that’s kind of a lie. “Actually, I’m really nervous, but that’s normal, I guess.”
You really want this job to work out. Eddie’s dying for you to come and live with him in his apartment, but you want a little more financial stability before you move out of your place. You promised him that once you landed a higher paying job you would take the leap. The shiny prospect of perpetual domesticity with your favorite boy is riding on this position, and it's making you gut-wrenchingly antsy.
“You’re gonna be great!” he shouts from around his toothbrush.
Eddie joins you in the kitchen, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s in nothing but his boxers and mismatched wool socks. One is maroon, the other is green with stripes. “Great. You hear me? They’d be lucky to have you. In fact, you should be interviewing them, asking why they deserve to be your employer.” He’s teasing you, but he also means it.
Your stomach flutters at the praise, and at the sight of all that skin he’s showing. You know in your heart that he’s still so warm from sleep.
 He yawns, and stretches dramatically. “Have you eaten yet?”
You chuckle and shake your head. “No way. No appetite.”
“Well, you gotta eat. You need fuel on a day like today.” He crosses his arms and frowns at you.
That's humorous, coming from the guy who attended six years of high school running on nothing but mini-pretzels and Mountain Dew. “Eddie, I’m way too anxious to eat right now.”
“Listen, you’ll feel worse if you don’t eat. Because if you don’t have something in your belly, and you’re nervous, you’ll get lightheaded and pass out in the middle of the interview, in which case you won’t get the job, 'cause then they’ll all be thinking, ‘This girl has the temperament of a fragile Victorian woman. Why is she even here? She should be sent to the seaside for her health.’ You know?”
“I…guess so?”
“Trust me, sweetheart, you have to eat breakfast. Let me make you something.”
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The Something in question is simple: toast with butter, and fried eggs, over-medium. “Runny enough to dip, but cooked enough so there’s no snotty white stuff,” he says sagely. “It’s the only way to eat 'em.”
You hum in agreement, but you’re more focused on the way he looks standing half-naked in front of the stove, spatula in hand, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
He insists on making your portion first, sliding the plate in front of you and kissing your head when it’s done. “Eat up, doll.”
You thank him quietly and start to eat, watching as he goes through the process over again for himself. Now that he’s taken care of you, some of the tiredness he was staving off returns. His movements get clumsier as his attention oscillates between assembling his breakfast and being your personal cheerleader. He bumps into the counter, nearly burns his fingertips on the stove, and knocks over a glass of orange juice, but steadfastly refuses your offer to take over. Stubborn. You put a pot of coffee on for him.
You feel calmer now, watching his ministrations, listening to his reassurances. You've found that Eddie’s presence seems to be the salve for all your silly little troubles. His throaty morning-voice and dimpled smile send a rush of warmth through you, putting you at ease, like a cup of something hot on a cold day. You feel so lucky to be loved by him.
While you’re adoring him, trying not to get misty-eyed thinking about it, your sweet boy’s about to transfer his second egg to his plate. He's almost done it when he’s wracked with another full-body yawn. It's powerful enough that his eyes close, and his arm jerks the wrong way, and the egg slips out of the pan. It hits the kitchen floor with a wet slap.
Quickly, he looks down, then at you, and then back at the egg. In one swift motion he scoops it up off the floor. “Five second rule.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ed…” You’re tempted to chastise him more thoroughly because who knows when that floor was last cleaned? Certainly not Eddie. But the way he’s doting on you today makes you hold your tongue.
He shrugs. “Fine. I’ll wash it off.”
He turns the sink on so a thin stream of water comes out. He picks the egg up with his hands, and holds it under the faucet, turning it carefully so that each side gets a gentle rinse. It gets tossed casually back onto the plate.
Completely unbothered, he joins you at the table and digs in.
He finally catches the look on your face. Without swallowing the huge bite of food he just popped in his mouth, he goes -
“What?”
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Afterwards, Eddie drives you to your interview just like he promised he would. When you emerge from the building some thirty odd minutes later, feeling victorious, he's right there to celebrate with you.
Neither of you say it, but you're both thinking the same thing. One bed. One kitchen table. One little apartment. One home.
764 notes · View notes
propertyoftoru · 1 year
Text
[5:27pm] L.MH
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wc: 2.3k
pairing: Lee Minho X Fem!Reader
warnings: menstrual cycle/reader is on her period, the tiniest bit of angst, miscommunication/poor communication skills??? brief mention of cheating (hardly), fluff, soft!minho, literally so soft wahhh ;v;
A/N: This was completely self indulgent. I started writing this when I was on my period and I just now got around to finishing it. This is me actively avoiding working on the soulmate series. Anyways enjoy soft Minho because I cant get enough of him.
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It was almost like a 6th sense at this point. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying your day off. Some shitty rom-com playing on the TV making you way more emotional than it normally would. That was when you felt it, seemingly out of nowhere. The all too familiar ache in your bones and muscles, followed by the odd cramping in your lower stomach. You let out a loud groan as you realized what was coming.
You tried to ignore it the best you could, opting to fetch your heating pad from the bedroom and taking a pain reliever in hopes of lessening the aches. Though it seems like your own body is determined to ignore your attempts to soothe it because the pains only worsened.
Thankfully your boyfriend of 3 months was at dance practice so he wasn't there to hear the pathetic whimpers that you let out when a cramp was particularly aggressive. It's not that you thought he would judge you, you know he wouldn't. It’s just that as sweet as Minho was, he loved to tease you. While normally you would play along and tease him right back something told you that you couldn't handle his teasing words today.
Once you felt the hot water touch your skin you let out a sigh, finally feeling a brief respite from what seemed like endless torture. As ridiculous as it felt, you let yourself sink to the floor, resting your back against the cool shower wall, allowing your eyes to slip shut and enjoying the warmth of the water. 
The sound of your front door opening and closing had you opening your eyes. You knew it was Minho, hearing him cooing at your cats before calling out your name. How long had you even been sitting here? Did he get out of practice early or had that much time passed since you got in the shower? 
The sound of your front door opening and closing had you opening your eyes. You knew it was Minho, hearing him cooing at your cats before calling out your name. How long had you even been sitting here? Did he get out of practice early or had that much time passed since you got in the shower? 
“Baby?” followed by two soft knocks on the door. 
“Hey Min, I’m almost done in here, I'll be out soon.” You reached for your body wash, deciding to just wash up quickly, but stopped when he spoke again.
“That’s alright I'll just join you, I'm all sweaty from practice anyways.” Minho always joined you when you showered, he treasured the intimate moments you two would share. The domestic bliss that was quiet giggles and hushed conversations, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear of breaking the peaceful bubble that surrounded the two of you. It was truly one of his favorite things to do with you. The soft looks you would give him as you helped clean one another and your gentle hands massaging his scalp as you washed his hair for him always made his knees feel weak. 
But he had been out of the country last month during the week of your previous period, and before that you had just begun dating after your period ended, making this new territory for your relationship. You weren't sure why but you felt embarrassment wash over you at the idea of mentioning your period. It was ridiculous, you knew that. You were both adults and he’s not oblivious to the idea of menstruation, his comforting words that he offered to you over the phone last month assured you of that. Yet you found yourself not wanting to tell him.
“Actually Min, I think I just wanna shower alone today.” Silence followed your words and you wondered if he had already gone to grab clothes to join you. 
“...Oh alright.” A few more seconds of silence followed before he spoke again softer this time. “Have I done something to upset you?”  
Your face scrunched up and you shook your head before realizing he couldn't see you.
“No no of course not” you answered a little too quickly, attempting to reassure him “Like I said I'm just about finished then the showers all yours!” 
“You don't wanna shower with me?” He cleared his throat not wanting to come off as clingy but the pang of disappointment in his chest made him begin to question if he had done something wrong the last time you showered together. Was it because he spiked your hair up when he lathered it with your shampoo? You had laughed at the time, doing the same to him shortly after, and it quickly became one of his favorite memories with you. Maybe it was because when you had turned your back to him, he turned the water to freezing cold, a loud screech coming from you as you jumped from the water. He received a playful glare from you in return but he assumed things were okay because you had pulled him under the frigid water right after. 
His downward spiral was interrupted when you spoke again “No! I do! You know I love showering with you, it's just…”  You trailed off having run out of excuses and not wanting to upset him further. Just like that his downward spiral had increased tenfold, his mind going to a much scarier idea. Now don't get him wrong Minho was NOT the type of guy to throw unfounded accusations around, but you had always been straightforward with him, your bluntness matching his almost to a T. So your seemingly evasive answers and hesitation had his heart in his throat. His next words had you feeling like someone had punched you in the stomach, his voice more hesitant and timid than you had ever heard him. 
“...I-Is there someone in there with you?” He said it so softly you barely heard him over the sound of the water and your heart breaking in your chest.
“W-What? No. Of course not Min.” Trying to make sure your tone conveyed how serious you were. You prayed to god that he would believe you, That he trusted you enough to know that you would rather be burned alive than ever hurt him. 
“I don't even know why I just asked that.. I know that you would never do that to me.” You relaxed a little at that. “I just.. had a rough day and I was looking forward to this so when you said you wanted to be alone my mind just went to a weird place.” 
“Oh Min… I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you” You sighed again looking down at your pruned fingertips. “I really do want you to join me... It’s just…you can't.” God just tell him you idiot! Beating around the bush and upsetting him all because you're too embarrassed of something so stupid.
“Cant?” You could practically see his eyebrows pinching together and the confused pout on his face. 
“It’s embarrassing…” You were clenching your fists trying to choke down the humiliated whine that was trapped in your throat. Your eyes were burning with tears now, your lower lip beginning to tremble with every moment of silence as Minho racked his brain.
You hated how you felt right now. This is Minho we’re talking about. The same man who texted his mom bursting with excitement when you agreed to go out on a date with him. She had shown you the very texts when you met her for the first time and you dont think youve ever seen Minho turn a deeper shade of red. The very same Minho that despite how much he loves watching horror films with you, insists on keeping his kitty plushie tucked into his side the entire duration of the movie. He claims it's to offer you comfort in case you felt afraid no matter how many times you assured him you weren't. The same Minho who would refuse to continue cooking dinner unless you joined him in wiggling his butt, emphatically stating that it was the only conditions he could work in. 
There were misconceptions about Minho that even some of his closest friends believed. That he was standoffish and closed off. That he had a cold personality or that he couldn't be sweet and outwardly loving. You knew those ideas to be untrue even after your very first date. You swear to this day that he had somehow captured all the stars in the night sky in his eyes that night. His eyes gleamed with excitement and the soft smile never left his lips.
 A month into your relationship you were surprised by just how affectionate he was (don't you dare ever mention it out loud though). Like clockwork every single day started with him latched around you in his sleep, his arms caging you against his firm chest and even his legs were locked around yours. Then while he made breakfast he would be sure to come and peck your forehead every few minutes while you watched him. When he would return from traveling away from home is when it was the most intense. He wouldn't even bother announcing his arrival before he was practically speed walking over to you and burying his face into your neck. He would stand there for a few minutes just inhaling your scent and gently rocking you back and forth before he would finally pull back enough to attach his lips to yours. 
The realization that Minho had always been comfortable enough to be completely himself and totally uncensored around you had your heart clenching almost painfully. Yet here you were, a grown woman, too embarrassed to admit you were on your period. But before you could allow your frustrations with yourself grow any stronger Minho calling your name softly brought you back to reality. 
“You're on your period?” You could sense the hesitation in his question, not wanting to make any sort of implications in the case that he was misreading what you said. 
Offering a hum in response, the internal battle in your mind continued as you were still feeling quite frustrated with yourself. You pushed yourself up off the floor and quickly washed up before reaching out to turn the water off. Wanting to finish this conversation while being able to at least look at your boyfriend, you dried off quickly and wrapped yourself in a towel. 
A frown made its way to your lips as you swung the bathroom door open only to be met with an empty hallway. 
“Min?” you called out for him but got no response. You shut the door once again and slowly began to get dressed, pulling on one of his sweatshirts that you always wore when he was away. You took your time applying your skin care and hair oils as you once again choked back tears. 
Dread was the next emotion you felt on today's emotional rollercoaster. Was he angry with you? Annoyed with how childish you had acted? Had he left? Or was he simply ignoring you as recompense for upsetting him?   
You exited the bathroom and on your way to the kitchen you stopped just around the corner as Minhos voice caught your attention. 
“...So when she gets out here you guys better help me out okay? We all have to do whatever we can to make her feel better. No slacking…I’m lookin’ at you Pudge.” 
Poking your head around the corner you were met with Minhos back as he unboxed what looked like takeout from your favorite place up the street. Your cats were gathered around his feet looking up at him expectantly. He was still in his practice clothes, the sweat stains prominent on the gray material of his t-shirt. Yet you still found him to be devastatingly handsome even from behind. As he began plating the food you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek between his shoulders. 
You felt him tense for a second before he turned around to face you, gently pushing you away from him. He was quick to mumble something about being all gross from practice before your brain could misinterpret his actions. Still, he carefully took your face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. 
“I ran to grab you that food you've been craving all week.” He leaned to the side so your vision was met with all of your favorites spread out on your kitchen table. “I turned on your heating pad and grabbed your kitty plushie from your room… I figured we could watch a movie or something and I'll give you some back rubs after you finish eating?” There was a trace of nervousness in his eyes along with a bit of uncertainty. He was unsure what you wanted from him but he would do anything in his ability to make sure you were in the least amount of discomfort as you could be.  
His eyes nearly fell out of his head when you started sniffling in front of him, your pretty eyes quickly filling with tears.
“Nonono baby dont cry, we don't have to do any of that.” He brought you into his chest and rocked you gently attempting to soothe your crying. Your sobs broken up by the giggles that came from his quick change of plans. 
“That sounds perfect Min” You pulled back slightly to witness the relief that flooded his expression before he pressed his forehead to yours. “But only if you go shower first because you seriously stink” It was his turn to laugh as he scrunched his nose at you.
He pulled away to glance down at the cats that were still lurking by your feet. 
“Alright guys… You're up.”
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itadores · 4 months
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tōdō as a romantic partner headcanons
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note: just some thoughts on the topic
pairing: tōdō aoi x gn!reader
word count: 1k
tags: gender neutral reader, tōdō aoi-centric, very fluffy and domestic
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first thing’s first, tōdō is a good partner. a great one even. i know this in my bones.
one of his greatest attributes as a partner is that he loves you so loudly. he will never shy away from singing your praises or complimenting you. he’ll brag about you to anyone who will listen, whether they’re willing to lend an ear or not. (as much as his peers enjoy your company, they’ve grown sick of hearing tōdō ramble on and on about you. they normally phone or text you when this happens, begging for you to reach out to tōdō, so they’ll be granted a moment of reprieve.)
tōdō loves being yours as much as you’re his. when the opportunity presents itself, he loves being able to proudly boast to others, especially individuals who may take too much of an interest in you or him for that matter, that he’s your partner. he experiences a bit too much joy when he gets to witness in real time how their face crumbles and they scramble away in defeat. even if you admonish tōdō for this behavior, he can’t bring himself to ever feel too sorry. after all, they should have known better.
tōdō is so so so loyal to you. of course, loyalty in a relationship is the bare minimum, but tōdō’s loyalty to you borders on reverence. he worships you, loving you so wholly. so completely. other people could never compare to you, could never hold as much space in his mind as much as you do.
tōdō is not always aware of his own strength and size, but the longer you’re in a relationship, the more he tries to be conscious of it. if you want to rough house, he’ll hold back, never using his full-strength. if you’re lying down together and cuddling, he’s careful to not crush you beneath his weight. sometimes, he does forget how strong he is, often caught up in his excitement of seeing you or showing you something and will manhandle you, but never to the extent that he would hurt you. he would never.
he really appreciates when you express interest in the things he likes. he’s incredibly passionate about JPOP, especially takada-chan. he could go on for hours and hours about the industry and his favorite idol, and sometimes he will, too caught up in his passion. he’s used to one-sided conversations when it comes to his rambling, but his excitement always increases whenever you ask him questions about what he’s talking about. he’s especially touched when you present him with little gifts related to his interests or recall snippets of your conversations together. most people brush off what he says, and for the most part, it doesn’t bother him, but to be seen and heard by you fills him with a joy he never thought he would experience.
being with tōdō means you get scary dog privileges. tōdō’s physique combined with his personality means that others tend to give you both a wide berth. but if on the off chance, somebody happens to get too close or makes you uncomfortable with tōdō around, they’ll wish they didn’t. tōdō goes from zero to one hundred so quickly, transforming right before your eyes. the only reason he doesn’t greviously harm the person bothering you is because you rein him in, holding the leash to his collar in your hands.
he’s so gentle with you in a way that his peers thought him incapable of. tōdō’s whole demeanor just softens when you’re around or you’re mentioned that his peers couldn’t believe their eyes when they witnessed the change in his behavior the first time you were introduced to them. of course, tōdō is still tōdō, but he becomes more at ease when you’re beside him.
tōdō is a very tactile person. he always wants to be touching you in some way, whether it’s an arm slung around your waist, his hand in your back pocket, or his side pressed against yours. he’s a very big fan of pda, shameless in the way he loves you, so if you’re not as big as a fan, you’ll have to let him know to tone it down a bit. he abides by your wishes, but sometimes, he can’t restrain himself and is compelled to act out on his desires when he thinks you look much too attractive for your own good, which is more often than not.
tōdō definitely carries your picture around with him, so he can have a reminder of you wherever he goes. he bought one of those accordion plastic wallet insert that has multiple sleeves, so he can have multiple pictures of you in his wallet since just one would not suffice for him. he also buys a locket, nicer than the one that holds a picture of itadori and takada-chan, and puts his favorite picture of you inside of it.
he is so into buying matching things. he wants y’all to get matching slippers, matching mugs, matching outfits, etc etc. it’s cute to a certain degree, but some of his suggestions are questionable at best. you’ve had to divert his attention away from some atrocious matching shirts he suggested you both get before.
tōdō is a great person to consult when it comes to hygiene products. since he takes such good care of himself, he knows what works and what doesn’t. he’s more than eager to offer any assistance you may need! if you ask him what are some good skincare products, he’s already drafting a list of products that he thinks would work for your skin type. if you ask him what shampoo and conditioner combination seems better, he provides you with information on what each one does and lets you decide which one would work out better for you. once you’ve refined your skincare routine and shower routine, tōdō buys all of the products you like to keep at his place for when you come over (if y’all don’t live together at that point.)
at the end of the day, people think tōdō is just a meathead, and while that may be true to a certain extent, he is also a thoughtful and loving partner that treats you wonderfully and loves you with all of his being <3
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obsessive-valentine · 5 months
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Are your request open? Can I request a sequel to Barbarian?
I know he's kind and everything but I don't think I could give in to him 100%, like yes, probably return the kindness but never love him. Reader feels a lot of guilt about the attack and I think that after the event and realizing that they didn't have much to do in the situation, they just felt numb about everything, living on autopilot except when they are with their dog.
This is just my interpretation and basically a self insertion sorry haha.
I would love to know about their daily lives! Does the barbarian take reader to war with him? (If you delve deeper into my idea) Would he realize that reader doesn't talk to him much? Would he be jealous of the dog?
Requests are always open, I love to hear about people’s thoughts on my silly little characters lol.
I did focus more on the barbarians perspective on the relationship rather the actual complexity of the whole thing and psychological depth of it all, it was a rather shallow Drabble but I’d love to expand more on his character. I’ll see if I come up with any domestic short stories for him in the coming weeks, love that idea thanks :)
Yandere!Barbarian X GN!Reader Headcanons
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The barbarian himself isn’t a good person, morally or in any other way, and he knows that. He understands what he’s done to you -pulled you away from everything you’ve ever known or loved leaving it all in tatters- he understands he’s killed innocent and guilty all the same and will continue to do so for the clan to thrive. And he doesn’t feel bad about any of it.
He definitely tries to sympathise with how his greed effects you, but, he doesn’t regret his actions but does understand to an extent how hard this is for you. This is why he tries to over compensate by gift giving and finding it within himself to be gentle and patient, so as not to damage you further (despite that being the polar opposite of how he was raised).
He’s not super emotionally intelligent so doesn’t really know what to do aside from the above. Anyone with common sense will learn fast that they can’t fight him off so it’s very possible to become numb and retreat into the mind. If you wont retreat into his arms he will try make it so you feel comfort in his tent that way you’re not always on autopilot but enjoying a craft or something in your quiet tent if even just for a hour.
Honestly though he doesn’t really mind if you’re on autopilot but does expect you to tolerate him, so if you are adamant on distance or fighting him you might trigger his temper. Like pulling and tugging you around, making you sleep in the same bed no exceptions, raising his voice to remind you who you’re trying to challenge etc.
A very tearful darling is a whole other situation, he cant stand seeing you cry, he’d be sobbing, crying, throwing up on the inside while trying to maintain a poker face and think up a solution.
Onto a lighter topic, the barbarians do move camp every few weeks and that includes reader (dont worry he never makes you walk) they don’t have a permanent home just their tents though our barbarian does intend to settle down at some point once the fighting becomes to much hassle for his ageing bones. But never once does he imagine bringing you into one of his raids, rebellions or battles.
He leaves you at camp with the members that aren’t participating that particular day (like the few women, elders or barbarians that just didn’t go-nobody’s forced to fight every battle, just to pull their weight). And of course your beloved wolf dog who he doesn’t regret, he doesn’t get jealous easily especially of the dog he got you for the soul purpose of cheering you up, if he can’t cheer you up at least the dog can and that’s a win in his books.
He’s really not high maintenance, as long as at the end of the day he load up your plate with his finest hunt and sit near you while you both eat, watching whatever fight breaks out in the clan from a safe distance before he has to eventually step in. There’s not much entertainment in the middle of the woods during the evening so you both take what you can get even if it’s drunken fight.
Maybe he takes you and the dog out for walks or fetch if it gets really boring at camp. Will bring you the best stick he finds for you to play fetch with the dog, he sees how much the dog means to you so he treats it with utmost respect. He’ll let you have control over this one little thing in your life for your own sakes.
Therefore while he would prefer you to love him truly, he doesn’t expect it (mostly because half the time he can’t tell the difference between your compliance and you showing affection), doesn’t stop him from trying though. He’s a saint compared to the barbarians before him... only for you though.
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blessedwithabadomen · 17 days
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in love with the mess - day eleven
summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?
content : smut (p in v, fingering dirty talk), angst, fluff
length : 6k
tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens
a/n : Enjoy!! Leave a comment if you do hehe 💕
•••
day eleven
What on earth was one supposed to do when everything they’d ever craved, ever needed without quite knowing that they’d needed it at all, suddenly seemed to appear right at their fingertips while knowing that every move toward it would only make it recede further?
Waking up in an empty bed had flooded my brain with loneliness, feelings of rejection, a cold seeping into my bones, just for a moment, completely automatically, but then the rest of my senses loaded in and as soon as my hearing permitted me to realise I was far from alone in the apartment, my whole body relaxed again. A chaotic mixture of shouting and uninhibited laughter filtered through the open door, interrupted by the tell-tale noises of pots and pans and everything else Oli’s kitchen had to offer. Then, slowly but surely, the scent of coffee reached my nostrils. I inhaled it deeply, turning onto my back and snuggling into the blankets for another minute.
How cruel was the world to gift me this moment? I wanted to sink into the bliss this morning provided. The domesticity. The soft wake-up, the realisation that Oli and Noah were preparing breakfast, the gentle lull of the bed that promised a future that could look exactly like this.
Could it? The pull at my heart stung more painfully than ever. The clarity that all I wanted seemed so close and yet unattainable hit me harder than before. I didn’t want to assume that either Oli or Noah were doing it with any ill intent, but the way they kept dangling this possibility in front of my face hurt all the same. What would it take to get this for real? Every morning of my life? My whole body seemed to ache with the love I had for them.
I was on the verge of giving up. Not giving up either of them or this thing we had going on. Giving up on being quiet. Giving up on hiding my feelings, lying about what my heart was screaming for, making myself and my needs smaller than they were. Maybe then, we would stand a chance. Maybe if I was being honest with them, they could be honest with me too. If only there was any sort of knowledge that their truth would bear the same content as mine.
Five more days of this tour. Five more days until we would, in some capacity, have to part ways. Oli was going back home to finish the album. Noah was heading on another tour. I was… well, packing up my things and trying to find a place to stay. How much longer would I manage to keep my mouth shut? I didn’t just want to blurt out a confession of love, hit them out of nowhere, possibly scare them away with my intensity. But I would have to speak up, sooner or later. Before the tour was over. I couldn’t leave without letting them know, even if it meant the end of things. Even if it changed my relationship with Oli irredeemably. Even if it meant never having Noah again. I’d simply have to find the right moment. 
Or rather, moments. I wasn’t sure if telling both of them at the same time would be wise. They were two individual people that each deserved my undivided attention. As much as my heart was beating for both of them, it would be wrong to pretend it had the same quality with both. I’d known Oli for years, a crush that had been steadily growing, going dormant and growing again. Noah had only appeared on the scene recently, even if he’d caught my heart with no difficulties at all. But it was different. Every love was. Their own, the one between them, was too.
A loud clatter pulled me out of my thoughts. It was followed by a beat of silence and then rambunctious laughter. The smile on my face appeared involuntarily at the sound. Rolling myself out of the sheets, I quickly looked for something to put on, remembering I only had my dress from last night. Pulling a few drawers open, I located an oversized sweatshirt in Oli’s closet that I allowed myself to put on along with a pair of clean boxershorts. My underwear from last night was too sticky to even consider it.
The kitchen was a mess when I entered. It seemed like the two of them had made it their mission to open every single cupboard and then proceeded to place every single item in there somewhere completely different. In between, some cooking that wanted to be an English breakfast had happened. Still, as soon as I was spotted, shuffling toward them on bare feet, Oli made quick work of fixing a plate for me with whatever hadn’t gotten burned or landed on the ground in their mayhem.
“I promise, I actually know how to cook,” Noah whispered in my ear as he hugged me good morning, his hands moving upwards on my thighs until they disappeared under Oli’s shirt. “Not so sure about him though.”
We both turned to watch Oli plate some more stuff for Noah and himself, some of it looking suspiciously black, but he was obviously trying so hard to make it a good breakfast meal that my heart couldn’t help but flutter at the sight.
It was perfect. Too perfect.
•••
The morning was filled with half-edible food, giggles over the breakfast table and slow, lazy kisses on the couch as we took turns showering. Oli ended up lending Noah and me some clothes that definitely looked more ridiculous on me than it ever did on those two men, but it was still better than trying to make do with last night’s outfits again. It still very much felt like a walk of shame when the cab driver all but dropped us back off at the hotel. I almost asked if Oli would mind us grabbing our suitcases and going right back to his place to stay there for another night until we had to get going to London. But I didn’t.
Noah and I had planned to make a quick dash to our respective rooms to change into clothes that actually belonged in our closets while Oli would make his way to the venue, but the plan was foiled when we realised that the rest of Bad Omens were gathered in the hotel lobby, chatting and… well, probably waiting for Noah before heading to the arena together. Unfortunately, that also meant that the three of us were the topic of conversation as soon as we got spotted.
Folio saw us first, his eyes moving back and forth between us, then up and down our bodies as he seemed to realise what we were wearing. He gave a low wolf whistle that briefly caught the attention of every uninvolved person in the lobby, but he didn’t mind at all as he approached us with a big smile on his face.
“Noah! We’d been wondering where you were. You could have told us you were spending the night with your boyfriend and your girlfriend!”
In an instant, Noah’s face had taken on a blush like no other. He dropped my hand as if caught in some sort of compromising situation, his eyes darting everywhere but me or Oli.
“Very funny, Folio,” he mumbled, but there was no humour in his voice.
“Come one, you all look like you’ve had a very good night,” the drummer continued, harshly slapping Noah’s shoulder in what I assumed was supposed to be a friendly, if teasing, gesture. “No need to be shy about it.”
But Noah wasn’t shy about it. Not exactly. Noah was… somewhere between embarrassed and terrified. At least that was what he looked like. The shuffling of his feet, the way he played with the hem of the shirt and then suddenly let go as if stung by the realisation it was Oli’s, the restless energy. Even Folio backed off suddenly.
“I need to change,” Noah announced and before anyone had the chance to stop him or even say a single word, he had set off towards the lifts. He needed to change. He didn’t say he was going to. He needed to. It set off all the alarm bells in my head. I couldn’t let this whole situation run off its course again, whatever the course was. But I also knew better than to push Noah into what would only result in him withdrawing and refusing to talk altogether.
“We should talk to him,” Oli piped up next to me.
“We should. But not now. Bryan needs you for pictures and then you’ve got soundcheck. I’ll meet you at the arena, yeah?”
Oli nodded, not quite convinced, but knowing that his schedule called for him. We’d already taken the whole morning off, it was time to get back to work. I moved to quickly press my lips to his cheek before heading to my room as well, but he stopped me, hand on my neck, leading me exactly where he wanted me.
And then, in public, and in front of everyone still watching us, Oli Sykes kissed me.
•••
“Aubrey! Just the person I was hoping to see!”
I stopped dead in my tracks at Becky’s voice. I’d successfully maneouvered Oli from soundcheck back to his dressing room where he’d have a bite to eat in preparation for the show when I decided to see what sort of mood Noah would be in. If it was time to talk to him yet. As much as he preferred to battle his demons alone some times, there was a point where he would simply end up overthinking and, at worst, grabbing some bottles again, and I wanted to stop that process by all means necessary.
However, I’d only just made it into the general standing area of the venue when Becky called me over. I shot one more look at Noah on stage, in the middle of his own soundcheck and seemingly miles away in his mind, before walking over to the sound booth.
“So, slight trouble ahead,” she said, kneading her hands awkwardly. “Someone on the team is having a family emergency and he needs to leave after the show. Which means we’re good for tonight, but we’re a pair of hands short in London. I have some contacts for the Dublin show so that won’t be a problem, but no one is available for the next two days on such short notice. I’ve already talked to Oli and Noah and they agreed so I thought I’d ask if you could help out for those gigs?”
My brain was whirling with the amount of information she’d just dropped on me. But it was one particular piece it got stuck on - why had she asked Noah? Oli was a given, considering I was technically his employee and he’d have to do without me if I was gone during soundcheck and the actual show, but Noah didn’t make any sense.
“Noah?” I questioned, more to myself than anything else and Becky interrupted me immediately.
“Will you? Please say yes. It’s important. Really.”
“Sure,” I smiled, even though I felt anything but sure at that moment in time. Still, she needed help and if I could be of any use, it would be ridiculous to decline.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, reaching over the barrier to pull me into a hug. “You won’t regret it!”
I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean either.
•••
Noah vanished right after soundcheck, which seemed to be a special talent of his. All of his usual hiding spots came up empty and if he’d left the venue in some capacity, there was no way I’d be able to track him. Trying the dressing room one more time, I opened the door, just a small gap, to peek inside, but the only person present at all was Nicholas.
To my surprise, he waved me in. I followed the invitation gratefully - not only was I out of ideas on where to find Noah before the show, I also didn't have anything else on my schedule for the day. Plus, I'd not really had the time to hang out with anyone apart from Oli and Noah lately.
A beer was thrust in my general direction as soon as I sat down on the other end of the couch. It wasn't my favourite, but I took it anyway.
“So, Aubrey, how are you doing today?”
I stared at Nicholas with the most suspicious look I could muster. “Nick, in the ten days we've been in this tour together, we've not once made silly small talk.”
He chuckled, a little nervously, a little caught out, but he looked so sweet that I couldn't even pretend to be mad. “Yeah, I don’t know why I said that.”
The silence settled between us for a moment, but I didn’t mind. I figured he’d called me in here for a reason, and I’d give him as much time as he wanted to needed to figure our what to say.
“Would you mind if we stole Noah away for the night?”
“What? I mean, of course. He’s your friend, you don’t need my permission to hang out with him.”
I had been hoping to spend the night with both him and Oli again. Go pack to his place. Maybe have a quiet night in before the four-hour drive to London tomorrow. Get some takeaway. Stare out of Oli’s windows to watch the city as it fell asleep and woke back up. But with Noah making an abrupt exit this morning at the hotel and being basically untraceable ever since, my hopes had been dwindling anyway.
“‘Course, ‘course,” Nicky mumbled, briefly looking up at me with a smile. “I’m not complaining about you spending time with him, by the way. But we…” He looked contemplative, as if trying to decide how much to tell me. “We sat down together, Folio, Jolly and I, for lunch today and we decided we need to talk to him. Because, well, he seems very happy to hang out with you and Oli but then it takes one comment from Folio and he just closes off completely.”
I’d seen it first-hand, more than once. They were right to be concerned, too. With all the fun we were having among the three of us, reality kept punching Noah in the gut relentlessly. I still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of demons he was battling, but they were weighing heavily on his mind and impacting his moods. The other three were probably both worried about his ability to perform as their frontman and how he was coping as their friend. And as much as Oli and I needed to talk to him, sooner or later, maybe what he needed right now was the people he’d known for years.
“I know,” I sighed in response. “He switches from extremely carefree to withdrawn and pissed off in a split second sometimes. An evening with the guys will probably do him good. If… I don’t know if it’s appropriate, but if he says anything, you know… I don’t know, that would be helpful to know… I know you don’t know me very well but I genuinely just want what’s best for him and I’m at a complete loss sometimes.”
Nicky’s hand on my shoulder was so reassuring, I suddenly felt like I had to bite back tears. “I’ll let you know. Unless we somehow get him to grow some balls and talk to you himself.”
I giggled, pushing away the emotions, leaning slightly into his touch, simply glad to know Noah was surrounded by people who really cared about him and his wellbeing. Even if that included bullying him on the low when he was being a diva about communicating properly. He deserved it, to be honest.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight then? Hope it’s not an intervention because that’ll probably make him run for the hills immediately.”
“No,” Nicky laughed slightly. “We’re just going to call it a guys’ night. Take him out after the show. Have a beer.”
I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow at him a little bit. Somehow, he caught it immediately. The questioning look on his face compelled me to talk.
“He’s been… drinking. I don’t know if that’s a general pattern with him, but, sometimes, it’s to the point where he doesn’t remember things the next morning.”
Nicholas seemed more somber than he had been the entire conversation. The way something flashed in his eyes, just for a moment, told me enough. Enough to know that this wasn’t exactly the first time he might have gone down that road. And that they were well aware of it, too.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Promise.”
I nodded, finally getting up from the couch with a heavy sigh, my almost untouched beer still in my hand. “Well. I’m going to need the rundown tomorrow. And if I don’t see you again before you leave, good luck.”
“I might need it.”
•••
Some days, things just tended to go wrong. And while, a lot of the time, I could accept that, be gentle with myself and move on, today was not like that. At all. What had started as a lovely morning with Noah and Oli had quickly spiralled into worries about the former, then feelings of confusion and being slightly overwhelmed at suddenly working with Becky for the next two days. I couldn’t find Noah anywhere, but I’d all but given up on that since the conversation with Nicky. I’d check up on the situation tomorrow, when, hopefully, some things were cleared up. At least in Noah’s head.
But then my AAA pass went missing. It wasn’t a massive problem, excluding the embarrassment of having to let people know that the person who was responsible for keeping Oli in check and organised had managed to misplace what was probably the single most important item on any given tour date. What bothered me much more was the fact that I’d attached my Powerfuff Girls keychain to it, as I’d been doing every day since I’d bought it.
Lee was the one to find me, near tears, picking apart Oli’s dressing room to no success.
“Alright, let’s walk through your day then. You’ve obviously had it when you arrived here or you wouldn’t have gotten in. Where did you go from there?”
I knew he technically didn’t have the time to run this through, but I was simply too distraught to send him away, silently grateful for his help as we re-traced my steps from Oli’s dressing room to the sound desk and catering to all the hallways I could have possibly walked. Additionally, both of us had shot messages into any group chats we were part of, but so far no one had replied with positive news.
“Wait, is that-”
Lee was pointing slightly further ahead in the hallway. I was there in an instant. There, on top of one of the boxes, was, indeed, a backstage pass. Adorned with my name. Only - there was no charm on it.
“But- that doesn’t make sense!” I exclaimed, turning the item over in my hands, then bending down to study the floor around the box. “If I’d lost it, it would surely be on the ground and not up here, right? And if someone picked it up, they could have given it back to me, because my name is on it. And why is the keychain missing? There’s no reason for it to detach!”
Lee shrugged his shoulders, not quite as bewildered as I was, but I figured he also didn’t have as much personal attachment to a keychain. I had the pass back, which should be all that mattered, probably.
“Aubrey! Aubrey, help!”
Oli’s voice echoed through the hallway. He didn’t sound like he was in any imminent danger, but I still set off as soon as I’d reattached the pass, finding him in the middle of his dressing room. He stood in the most awkward, uncomfortable way, his head strangely bent down toward his shoulder. I was about to question it when he turned around, showing me exactly what the dilemma was.
“My hair!”
I didn’t know how he’d done it, but some of his strands were caught up in the rings of his black jacket. I bit back a smile, very unsuccessfully.
“How the fuck did you do that,” I giggled, unable to hold the noise back as soon as I opened my mouth.
“Does it matter? Help me out!”
With laughter still wrecking my chest, I started fumbling with his hair and the accessories on his jacket, trying to be as delicate as possible as he kept making noises of pain even when nothing was actually tugging on his scalp. Drama queen. I finally pulled him free, giving him a soft kiss, before toying with his outfit until it was perfectly in place.
“Thank you, love,” he said, suddenly mellow. His hands were toying with my hair now, mindlessly playing with the strands as he stared at me. I felt as naked and vulnerable under his stare as I felt protected. “Can I invite you over to mine again tonight?”
“You don’t even have to ask. Can we grab my suitcase this time though? I’d rather not do another walk of shame tomorrow morning.”
“Anything you want.”
I almost melted at how soft he was. I wasn’t sure if it was me or the fact that he was in his hometown, playing to more people than ever, knowing that friends and family were watching, but I wallowed in it all the same.
“I don’t think Noah’s coming, though,” I added after a beat of silence and only after I’d managed to tear myself away from the way his eyes were seeing right into my soul. “The guys are taking him out. But we’ll talk to him tomorrow, right?”
“Tomorrow,” Oli agreed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
•••
The show in Sheffield was nothing short of magical and when Oli came off stage, he was an electrified bundle of energy. He was all over me, pulling me into his arms, completely ignorant of the way his sweaty skin stuck to mine where my top didn’t cover me, swaying me side to side.
“Fuck, I just love playing here,” he mumbled into my hair before pulling away just so much that he could look at me without having to fully let go. “What do you say to going straight home? I really need a shower but I’m so tired of venue bathrooms.”
I ignored the way my heart fluttered at the idea of home being not just his but all of our place to retreat to. I had no idea if he’d meant it like that or not, but suddenly I wished for nothing more than a shared comfort place. With him, and with Noah. Instead of dwelling on it, I sniffed at the fabric of shirt, loudly, just to annoy him.
“Yeah, that’ll just about do, I don’t think the uber driver is gonna kick you out for that smell just yet.”
“You’re fucking rude,” he laughed, carefree and not the slightest bit impressed. Then he continued to envelop me in his arms, awkwardly rubbing his body against mine. “There. If I smell, you do too.”
I couldn’t hold back the giggle, pulling him away from where several people working at the venue pretended not to stare at us and his antics, and started making my way outside with his hand firmly in mine. “Guess we’ll both need a shower.”
•••
Neither of us mentioned the way the backseat of the cab seemed a little empty as we made our way to the hotel to pick up my suitcase and then Oli’s place. Even though Oli’s energy was filling the space tenfold and we kept talking, giggling, touching as innocently as possible while still being within the driver’s view, I was sure that he felt the absence of a third person in our midst. Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow we’d talk to him. For now, I decided to focus solely on having Oli all to myself tonight.
The place was as homely as the night before, immediately drawing me in. I almost wanted to collapse on the couch, place myself just in the right way to stare out the windows once more, stay like that until the sunrise appeared, but all of that went straight out my brain as soon as Oli started undressing. He was still in the living room, lights on, with the curtains still drawn open, removing piece by piece and letting it fall on the floor. It didn’t really matter that he was fully on display - no other building in the vicinity was close or high enough to grant anyone the view that I was getting.
More and more tattooed flesh was being put on show and I drank all of it in, studying Oli’s body in a way I never had the chance to before, his broad chest, strong arms, muscular thighs, his half-erect cock. By the smirk on his face, he enjoyed the way I attempted to commit every single details about him to memory.
“Come on, love, you can’t be getting into the shower in all of that,” he grinned, motioning toward my outfit, but made no move to step closer. I didn’t mind. I could undress all on my own.
It wasn’t that I was actively trying to impress or give a show, my entire being was much too clumsy and lacking self-awareness for that, but the way I removed my top, my bra then let my skirt and tights follow before dropping my panties down my legs still seemed to have him hypnotised. It didn’t make me feel insecure. It made me feel like the most desirable person on the planet.
With his hand softly taking mine, Oli pulled me down the hallway and into his bathroom, making quick work of turning the shower on, checking until he was satisfied with the temperature and then pulled me under the large waterfall shower head. It was pure luxury. Both the way the hot water was raining down on me and how Oli wrapped himself around me once more, nothing between our naked bodies, just touches all over that had me sigh in utter relaxation.
I could feel him growing a little harder against me as my nipples perked up, but neither of us was in any hurry to do anything about it. Instead, Oli grabbed one of the bottles on the shelf next to him, stepping back to first lather himself and then me in shower gel. His hands were all over, starting at my shoulders, moving over my breasts with the utmost care, one arm, then the other, moving down my body, my back, my thighs, until he was basically kneeling in front of me. I took it all, the goosebumps following in the wake of his fingers, shivers running up and down my body under his delicate touch. When he stood back up to direct us back under the water, I almost cried out at the loss of his hands on me, before they were back, scrubbing me clean, reaching every single inch of my body. I did the same for him.
I couldn’t tell how long we stayed there as the mirror and the windows fogged up, I still could have remained there for longer, feeling safe and protected and warm, the world outside nothing but a far away thought that had no room between us. But my skin was getting wrinkly from the water and my brain was starting to get mushy from the heat, so we reluctantly detached from each other and stepped into the humid bathroom. Oli wrapped a towel around me, impossibly fluffy, then put another around his waist. We dried each other’s hair as much as possible before giving up, deciding we’d deal with the mess of it tomorrow.
Oli’s bed was unmade, none of us having had the time to strip and remake it this morning and it gave me a brief ache in my chest when I realised just how much Noah was missing, but Oli gently pushed me onto the bed, both of us losing our towels as we slid under the blanket, lights out, still staring at each other as much as our eyes allowed as they got used to the darkness.
“You’re amazing,” he said out of nowhere, his voice a little rough as we hadn’t spoken much since arriving, but it was his words which took me by surprise. “I���m sorry we drifted apart so much in the past. I think I pushed away just how much I need you.”
He moved a strand of hair away, tucking it gently behind my ear, and I had to take care not to let a trail of tears follow. Something in his voice was so honest, so vulnerable and true that I couldn’t help being emotional. It was more than I’d ever gotten from Oli, more than I’d ever thought I’d get, and even with everything that had been transpiring on this tour, I hadn’t seen it coming.
“I need you too, Oli. I don’t…” I swallowed, hard and audibly, my hand finding his, intertwining our fingers. “I don’t ever want to be without you again.”
It still felt like a risk, saying it out loud, not yet daring to say what I was really burning to utter, but hoping and praying that he knew, that he would get it, that my voice and my eyes and my hand in his would tell all. And when he kissed me, it felt like he did. When his hand wound up in my hair, it felt like he did. When he sighed against my lips, so softly, it felt like he did.
I wanted to stay in this moment forever. Anything that meant keeping his hands on me and his mouth on mine. It was so impossibly soft and sweet, it almost made me believe I was dreaming. But then Oli rolled himself on top of me, hot skin warming up my own, every single inch of him on me, his lap slotted against mine, my nipples hardening as they rubbed against his chest, and the kissing suddenly wasn’t even close to being enough. I wanted him, needed him, all of him.
The blanket was easily kicked off as the temperature rose, our naked bodies emitting more than enough heat as my thighs wrapped around Oli’s waist, pressing him harder against me. His mouth moved from my lips to my jawline, down my neck, over my breasts. All I could do was sigh in pleasure, letting his long hair tickle my skin on the way. I could feel he wanted to move further, until his head would rest between my legs, but I held onto his shoulders, then pulled ever so slightly at the back of his scalp to make him look up at me. Those gorgeous, deep, ever-changing eyes that lured me in, even when the dark room, illuminated by nothing but street lights below and the moon up above, barely let me see them.
“I want you, Oli,” I mumbled as soon as we were face to face again. “I just… want you.”
Oli, miraculously, understood. He kissed me again, so deeply that it made my head swim, before reaching down. I gladly let my legs fall open a little more, inviting his fingers in.
“At least let me prepare you a little, my love,” he whispered against my neck, one finger entering me with a sound that was impossible to ignore, a second immediately following. “So wet, so lovely and wet, just for me.”
I tried to get him closer, get more of him, pulling him in, everything that he would give me. I was losing control quickly, of the way my body moved, of the noises that he ripped from me.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me touch you like this.”
At the way his words sounded, voice low and raspy.
“Been dreaming about this so long, you don’t even know. Never thought you’d allow me to be with you like this. That you’d let me have all of you.”
He pumped his fingers a few times, experimentally adding a third finger which barely took any effort to slide in at all. Every single one of his words seemed to send another wave of lust over me, leaving me dripping and relaxed and more than ready to take him. When he pulled away, I whined pathetically, almost grabbing at his arm to keep him there.
“Come here, sweet thing.” He held his fingers out to me, tapping my lips to get me to open up. I licked them clean eagerly. “Taste yourself. Taste what you’re giving me. All for me.”
My brain wouldn’t have worked even if I’d actively tried to use it. I dumbly sucked on his fingers, a delirium waiting to happen, barely registering when he removed them from my mouth again to reach for the bedside drawer. He blindly grabbed a condom, ripping it open and putting him on, all the while keeping his eyes on my as much as possible. I loved how they looked. All hooded and pupils blown, full of arousal. I could only imagine he would be staring back at the same sight.
I immediately wrapped my legs around him again when he settled back on me. His forehead rested on mine, both of us breathing heavily, unable to keep still or quiet enough for another kiss when he pushed in.
“So perfect,” he moaned, completely in tune with mine when he buried himself in me. “So perfect, sweetheart.”
Then he started to move, slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid I could break or fall apart underneath him, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I wouldn’t. I felt like I was barely able to breathe. His cock in me, perfectly filling me up, his hands, whenever they weren’t holding his body up, everywhere on me. His eyes fully focused on mine.
The closeness hadn’t been there before. Not to this extent. And it almost made me want to break out in tears. It was simply so much, bordering on too much, while being just perfect, and all I could do was claw at his back, pull him that impossible inch closer, feel him all over, his breathing mixing with mine. He still took the time to look into my eyes, all throughout. One of my hands moved from his back to his cheek, unable to keep myself from touching his face, cradling it lovingly, a soft moment in between the heavy moans and loud noises.
Still, I didn’t see it coming.
Both of us were on the edge, steadily leaning over it and ready to fall. His thrusts were becoming quicker now, a little more shallow, and then his fingers were on my clit and I came so fast, it took me by surprise. I clenched around him, riding out my high with fingers digging into his back, letting myself fall into the feeling completely, knowing he’d be there to catch me and then he came undone too, low groans accompanying his release as he rutted into me again and-
“I love you.”
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