Tumgik
#ugh too earnest. i feel it too much
opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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:-P
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What if Mine was into creating his own art and was making tons of pictures of Daigo and trying to hide it from him. What if cheesy trope where Daigo ends up modeling for Mine's artwork. What if I stopped having ideas pls help
no please i love the idea of artist mine too keep going
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bruisedboys · 2 months
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sejanus plinth x fem!reader | sejanus is a helpless romantic, you’re totally shy under his affections, but he just can’t help himself!
implied shy!reader, coryo being a menace but in a playful way, sejanus being a tease, kissing, so much fluff!!!!
Coriolanus watches you and Sejanus with a look of mild disgust on his face.
“Ugh,” he says. “They’re gross.”
Lucy Gray laughs, up to her knees in the long, soft grass.
“Don’t be mean, Coriolanus,” she chides, digging her elbow into his ribs. “I think they’re cute.”
“Cute?” Coriolanus huffs, incredulous. “He looks like he’s about to eat her.”
Truth be told, Sejanus does look a bit like he wants to eat you. In the most romantic way possible, of course. You’re both sitting on the pier over the lake, and he’s got you in his lap, your knees caged on either side of his hips, his face so close to yours you’re almost kissing. He thumbs at your collarbone, fingers curled over your bare shoulder, hands warm on your sunkissed skin, gazing at you like you’ve been threaded with pure gold. The lake sloshes softly beneath you.
You peek over Sejanus’ shoulder, buzzing with fondness. “They’re looking at us.”
“Who?” Sejanus asks, distracted by the way you shudder under his touch. He thinks it’s sickeningly cute, how shy you are. “Coryo, huh? Don’t worry, honey. He’s just jealous.”
Honey? Heat creeps up your neck at an alarming rate. Any more of this and you’ll melt in a lovesick puddle. The pet name plays in your head over and over like a broken record. Honey, honey, honey.
“Jealous?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t seem to think straight when he’s got you this close. His hands on your skin, his thighs firm under yours. You glance over his shoulder again, self conscious.
“Mhm.” Sejanus brings a hand to your jaw and tilts your head in his direction with two fingers, forcing your gaze away from your friends. “‘Cause you’re so pretty,” he explains, voice like melted sugar. “And I’ve got you all to myself.”
You fear you’ll go up in flames. You hide your burning face by dropping it to his shoulder, shy and so so in love with him. Sejanus laughs softly, soaked through in fondness, and rubs your back with a big warm hand. Your spaghetti strap top means his palm graces a slice of exposed skin at the top of your back, and pleasured goosebumps erupt in his wake.
“I’m sorry, that was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He murmurs, his mouth ghosting your ear, so close he’s almost kissing it. He sweeps his hand up your back and then down again. “C’mon, come back out. I want to look at you.”
He pulls back slightly and gets a hand under your chin to encourage you up. You’re putty in his hands, surprising yourself at how quickly you oblige, how quick you are to do what he wants. He waits patiently for you to meet his gaze and once you do, you find your own feelings of overbearing fondness reflected back at you. His pretty eyes are pools of love, the honey sun painting them the colour of browned butter. You like him so much you could suffocate in it.
Sejanus grins at you, cheeks dimpling. He tucks some of your hair behind your ear.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. His hand lingers at your throat.
“Yeah,” you nod, breathless and much too eager but you can’t bring yourself to care. “You don’t have to ask, Sej.”
Sejanus hums before capturing your mouth in a swift kiss. You breathe him in and curl your hand around his neck, breathing in his scent of pine and firewood, something sweeter, like caramel. Your fingers brush over the short hair at the nape of his neck. He’s told you he used to have curly hair, and as much as you like imagining him with his curls, you like his buzzed hair just as much. He’s so handsome he doesn’t need curls, anyway.
Sejanus brings his hand to your waist and tugs you closer, desperate and greedy but never rough. You go happily, kissing him back with as much earnest as you can manage, pushing up onto your knees in your desperation to be closer still. You get lost, forget where you are, like you tend to do when you’re with Sejanus.
Meanwhile, Coriolanus is fake gagging into the grass.
“You agree that’s a bit excessive, right?” He asks Lucy Gray.
Lucy Gray just rolls her eyes. “You’re dramatic. They’re in love.”
Coryo scoffs. “Couldn’t they be in love somewhere else?”
Lucy Gray watches as you pull away from Sejanus and start giggling like a lovesick fool, while he tries to coax you back into another kiss.
No, she thinks. Not gonna happen.
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hatkuu · 5 months
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how to kiss - a tutorial
written for the wonderful @dellphie!! sorry this took so long ////
m! kylar x gen! reader, straight up fluff ^^
summary: ever since you first kissed kylar, he's only gotten worse at it. you're sick of him being a horrible kisser. so you decide to teach him how.
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"Ow!"
Kylar's kissing ability was appalling.
Either too much tongue, teeth or lip - never the perfect amount of each. It—no— he was taking a toll on your mouth, and it was beginning to show; puffy lips, constantly reddened from overuse, and ugh - Kylar somehow managed to suck all of the moisture out of them, too.
And of course, he was passionate, overbearingly so.
"J-Just let me try again! I'll do it g-good this time!"
You playfully scowl at Kylar, huffing while slathering a heavy layer of chapstick on your lips. You massage the chapstick between your lips, pressing them into a thin line while you stare, blank-faced at Kylar. He pouts back at you, pleading with those horribly persuasive, constant puppy-dog-eyes. They crinkle at the edges from the remnants of a smile, and the coniving little mouse doesn't even try to hide it. Still glistening with your saliva, Kylar's faux pout falters and morphs into a cheeky smile - a smile rarely seen by anyone but yourself. He guides your hand holding the chapstick away from your face, slotting his lips just above your own, close enough that you can feel his breath against the tingling, reddened flesh.
"Pleaaase?"
He never does it good any time.
"Fine—"
Before you can say anything else, Kylar's lips are mashed against your own. His tongue dipping in and out of your mouth in an uncoordinated, sloppy fashion. You splutter against him, pulling away and shoving him backward—away from your face. Kylar whines, leaning forward to recover the loss but you tut at him, placing a palm against the bottom half of his face.
Kylar's hands instinctively reach upward to pull your hand from his face, but they abruptly stop mid-air as he gauges your expression.
You aren't happy with him. You dropped your chapstick as soon as Kylar's teeth clacked against your own. Now, the chapstick has rolled across the room, far out of reach.
Kylar, muffled by your palm, voices his concerns.
"What?"
You glower at him, clearly annoyed.
"We kiss on my terms this time, okay?" You wipe the remnants of Kylar's tongue from your chin, face scrunching up as gossamer strings form between the back of your palm and lips. "I'll teach you the right way to kiss so I don't have to use this crap constantly." You say, pointing at the chapstick rollibg across the floor. He relaxes against your palm, eyes crinkling in a wordless smile. You can see his thought process; and before Kylar can begin licking at your palm you snatch it away with a disgusted scowl. "Don't be gross."
"...Now, sit still."
Kylar breathes shakily, leaning back and sitting motionlessly, hands firmly gripping the duvet on his single-sized mattress. Dark, split-end hair splays over his face, messy and still slightly damp from the bath you had coaxed him into taking earlier. His lips are just as swollen as your own, tinged red from his overzealous kissing. He shakily smiles at you. You return it with just as much earnest.
"Okay, so..." You trail off, cupping Kylar's cheek with one hand and holding his waist firmly with the other. "Hand positioning is very important." Kylar audibly shudders at your touch, a choked, embarrassed sound slipping from his lips even though the two of you have been together for so long. Long enough that Kylar shouldn't still blush and stutter when ever you look his way, but time doesn't stop his shyness. It probably never will.
"See? Doesn't it feel nice?"
Kylar nods, swallowing hard and tilting his head to fall deeper into your warm palm. The blackout curtains in Kylar's room leave no hints of natural light in the room. The artificial light of the six monitors on the opposite side of the room reflects his frightened eyes, the green flecks within them becoming more noticable than ever. You stare impulsively, committing them to memory as Kylar blushes a deep red, lips parted slightly as he gapes at you in shock.
Your lips break out into an affectionate, patient smile, waiting calmly until Kylar's rigid posture and shocked expression melts into comfort.
"Now do it to me."
Kylar shakily places his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into the plush flesh curiously. You can tell he's impatient. He's so close to you. So close. And all he can do is place his hands on your waist—which is nice—but he wants to feel you under your clothes, wants to touch the places that make you squirm and writhe against him and kiss you like he's supposed to—
"Kylar?" You ask, cutely tilting your head at him when you notice the far-off look in his eyes. "Your hands are really stiff, you have to loosen up! It'll feel better, promise!"
"O-Okay," He says, averting his eyes, trying his best to relax. You are his future spouse, after all. It's fine. He'll teach you things too, eventually. "I-Is this better?" He asks, hands still slightly twitching against you. His shoulders rest low now, rather than sitting high up like a scared cat's back. You smile, tracing a thumb across Kylar's cheek.
"It's better. We can move on now."
You lean forward and press a soft kiss to the corner of Kylar's lips. He sighs impatiently, lips morphing into an honest pout.
"Foreplay is very important, Kylar."
Your once still hands begin petting Kylar. He melts against you, whining loudly, unashamed of each wailed sound. A slur of begging and pleading follows, along with a noticable bulge forming behind his crossed legs. You continue your ministrations, smiling through each peck you place everywhere but his lips.
Foreplay? He thought that was only a sex thing— has he been doing this wrong the whole time? If anything, this is more teasing than foreplay. It's horrible. "W-What are you d-doing, my love?" Kylar fusses against each kiss, squirming against each soft pet you place. "Y-You're teasing me, a-and—"
"Foreplay can be words, or touches, anything that isn't kissing, Kylar."
Kylar doesn't like it. This 'foreplay'. It feels like an extension of teasing. Something cruel that you've decided to make up because you don't like his kisses.
"You're perfect, Kylar... So good to me and I'm so lucky to have you."
"H-Huh? N-No, y-you're the perfect one a-and—"
You giggle softly at his stuttering, continually mumbling praises until Kylar is fighting his most primal urges to not kiss you back.
"P-Please!"
"Shh, I haven't even showed you how to kiss yet!"
Kylar doesn't think he'll survive.
"When you kiss, you have to be passionate - you don't have to worry about that part though," Kylar beams at you, a heavy blush still starkly coating his cheeks.
"Y-Yeah?"
"Yeah, but there's other parts to kissing too."
You take your hands off of Kylar, waving them around for emphasis.
"You have to be gradual with it - you can't just shove your tongue into my mouth unannounced! And you can't just bite me out of nowhere, either!"
"O-Oh..."
"Here, I'll show you."
You carefully tilt your head until your lips slot against Kylar's. They buzz from the contact, still sensitive from Kylar's past assault. Lips melting together like butter on a hot plate, bonded together until they would eventually solidify. You could taste the overwhelming sweetness of an off-brand energy drink on his tongue and lips, sweet and lemony sour. You smile into the kiss, tongue hesitantly parting Kylar's lips for entry. You're patient. Gentle. Loving.
Kylar sighs into the kiss, lazily kissing back, careful not to intrude on your demonstration. He wants to be eager. Wants to swallow your saliva and push his own into your mouth. But he doesn't.
You quickly nip Kylar's bottom lip when you pull away, cheekily smiling as he gapes at you, pressing two fingers to the graze. His face breaks out into a smile, eyes crinkling in delight as you unknowingly stake your claim on him.
Kylar stares at you, pleading. Yearning.
"Can I— Can I please k-kiss you now?"
"Okay... But remember what I taught you—"
You pause, looking at Kylar expectantly before you continue.
"—Slowly, okay?"
Kylar nods, eager to show you what he's learnt.
He falls forward into your lap, one hand cupped around the plump of your cheek, the other holding your waist. Just like you showed him. While his grip is a little tighter than it should be, it's nice. A soothing, grounding sort of feeling you'd never get from anyone else. A stark change from Kylar's usual needy tugging and snatching. His lips lazily drag across your face, leaving a snail-trail of saliva wherever his tongue traces. You squeak at the feeling, flinching back as Kylar quite literally licks your face. He hums softly, continuing his version of 'foreplay' until your squirming and whining from the grossness of it all.
He is slow. And he's doing everything but assaulting your lips, so you can't be upset with him. Kylar briefly meets your eyes. You can feel the longing within them. But it's gone quickly. Fleeting fast enough that you barely even see it. He leans close to the corner of your jaw, puffing warm air against the sensitive hairs on your neck. They tingle with each breath, goosebumps forming in anticipation.
"L-Love you so much," He mumbles hot against the shell of your ear. "So much." He pauses, pressing a soft peck just behind your ear before continuing his loving rambles, travelling down to your upper chest. "I-I won't— I won't let anyone else ever touch you l-like this," Kylar peers up at you from under your chin, green eyes being the only visible feature of his face.
"I-It's reserved for me, o-okay?"
You weakly nod, leaning into each peck he presses against your collarbones, reaching a hand to pet and scritch at the crown of his head as he kisses your body.
He quickly ends the foreplay just as soon, eager to taste your lips again.
"Only me," He mutters, slotting his lips against your own, pressing your bodies as close together as possible. The chapped texture of Kylar's lips is completely overshadowed by the gentle, fleeting presses placed against your moisturised lips. Each exhale through his nose is felt against your cupid's bow. His hands timidly pet at your body, trying to recreate a far-cry copy of what you did to him. He parts from you for a moment. "You taste so good, m-my love."
You giggle, slotting your lips back against his own, parting them just enough for Kylar to realise that you're giving him permission. He immediately thrusts his tongue into your mouth, exploring and licking at the pink flesh of your gums. He obnoxiously swallows as you squeak in surprise at the sudden entry. A muffled whine of his name slips out amidst the struggle, but Kylar, too engrossed in the delectable taste of your mouth, doesn't even flinch.
His kissing ability is far from perfect.
A bit gross, even.
But it's fine.
You're sure Kylar won't argue against you offering any further kissing lessons.
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mitschki · 14 days
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various genshin men x sick!reader
incl: zhongli, itto, diluc
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Zhongli
On a stormy evening— as the relentless rain thrummed against the panes of your quiet bedroom, you found yourself ensconced under layers and layers of warm blankets, grappling with the all-too-familiar discomfort of a seasonal cold. Your body radiated a gentle warmth, a contrast to the chill that the rain brought and you occasionally interrupted the room's silence with a sharp sneeze, followed by the soft sniffles.
The ambiance of the room was subdued, lit only by the flickering light of a single candle that cast dancing shadows upon the walls. Beside your bed, on a modest brown table stood an empty vase. The gold curtains that your boyfriend Zhongli had chosen—a gift that brought warmth to your heart as much as it did to your home were drawn closed, shielding you from the gray unforgiving skies.
You had mentioned to Zhongli a few days ago that you weren't feeling too good and without hesitation, he insisted on taking care of you at your home. True to his word, Zhongli had been nothing short of attentive, spoiling you with comforting meals and gracing your space with fresh flowers daily. He even shared that he had personally collected the herbs for the tea he brewed, ensuring its freshness and potency.
Although you were initially reluctant to impose upon him, his persistence knew no bounds. He firmly believed in prioritizing your well-being, refusing to accept any objections when it came to your health.
"zhonglii...! i need you!" you called out, the sound punctuated by another sneeze and followed by the sound of sniffles. You heard his footsteps approaching, a reassuring cadence growing closer. The door creaked open and there he stood, Zhongli’s tall and composed figure filling the doorway. In his hands, he carried the subtle floral scent of flowers and a steaming cup of jasmine tea, its soothing aroma wafting towards you.
He hummed a soft gentle tune as he took in your forlorn state. Moving with his usual grace, Zhongli approached your bedside, his presence a comforting balm to the dreariness of your illness as he set the tea down beside you on the table.
"apologies if I took long, I was making this tea for you," he said, his voice carrying a note of tenderness. Carefully he placed the flowers in the vase, their colors vivid against the dim light before pulling a chair up beside your bed. Sitting down as he held the cup of jasmine tea in his hands, offering it to you with a gentle gaze.
"what if i died and you weren't here to save me," a playful pout forming on your lips as zhongli raises his brow.
"Life and death follow the natural order, much like the daily journey of the sun," Zhongli frowns, "yet, the possibility of our separation even by death, is a heavy thought to bear."
"Should destiny ever divide our paths, have faith that I will seek you out once more. No obstacle, not even death, can prevent me from returning to your side." as zhongli leans in and plants a gentle peck on your forehead, observing a subtle blush spread across your face.
"ugh i can never joke around you.."
Itto
You were resting in Itto's quarters, wrapped in blankets. Itto had been vigilant ever since you told him you were sick, his usual bravado shifting to earnest worry. He'd insisted on keeping you close, with members of the Arataki Gang stationed outside just in case you needed anything while he was away. Now, you were sitting on his bed with Itto beside you, holding a bowl of soup. He carefully spooned the soup into your mouth, his eyes fixed on your face, eager to see your reaction.
"itto.. darling, did you perhaps.. make this soup?" you ask, noticing the unusual flavor.
He hesitated for a moment then pouted defensively, "I tried alright! It’d be too risky to feed you something from outside! What if it worsens your condition or something!" he exclaimed, his concern evident in his furrowed brow, “Besides... I tried to put as many healing herbs in there as possible, which explains the erm... the taste! But... it is made with love!"
You manage a weak smile, appreciating his efforts despite the questionable culinary result, "thank you.. itto."
Itto's frown deepens as he notices how frail you sound. He sets the bowl aside and gently brushes your hair back from your forehead, checking if you feel feverish, "alright, that's it! time to kick this sickness outta here," he declares with renewed vigor.
He stands up briskly, "stay right here, I'm gonna get you something that'll definitely help!" Itto rushes out of the room, leaving instructions with his gang members milling outside. Moments later, he returns with a small box of hand-picked herbs from a trusted herbalist.
"Okay, these are supposed to be super effective. We’re gonna brew a mighty potion that’ll have you up and running in no time!"
While the herbs are being prepared into a more potent remedy, Itto keeps you entertained with tales of his duels and misadventures, each story more boisterous than the last. His endless energy and heartfelt care do more than any soup could, providing warmth and reassurance. Itto remains by your side, proving that his dedication in times of need is as formidable as his strength in battle.
Diluc
You had informed Diluc that you were feeling unwell and he suggested that you stay at his winery for the time being. The maids frequently attended to your needs and Diluc was often by your side when his responsibilities allowed. Whenever he was occupied, he made sure to send you letters, ensuring you felt cared for. Additionally, he often spent the nights watching over you, offering comfort and security during your recovery.
You were currently in his room, engrossed in a newspaper that had captured your interest.
Diluc’s expression tightens slightly upon entering the room and seeing you amused by the newspaper article—a mix of disapproval and amusement barely peeking through his stern exterior. He’s not one for rumors or frivolity, especially when it concerns his personal life or business.
"Diluc, Mondstadt's winery owner or a secret head priest?" you stifle your laughter as you read aloud.
"You shouldn't be reading that," he admonishes gently, his voice low and somewhat weary, "you need to rest, not entertain gossip."
He sits down beside you, his movements precise and deliberate. Diluc reaches out to carefully tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch light but filled with concern. His hand then lingers at your forehead, checking for fever. He seems relieved to find your condition unchanged or perhaps slightly better.
"Oh but it is interesting," you challenge with a playful grin, trying to lighten his mood and draw him out of his shell.
Diluc can’t help but let a small, almost imperceptible smile cross his lips before he regains his composure, "I suppose if it amuses you, it can’t be all bad," he concedes, his voice softening, "But let's not take every word to heart."
"If you're feeling up to it, perhaps a short story instead?" he suggests.
"if its interesting than the one i am reading then sure," you chuckle, watching as he gently takes your hand and brings it close to his face, softly kissing your knuckles.
"you'll enjoy it," he responds with a subtle smile, "it's about us."
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sort of tried experimenting on this onee (^_^*).. dk who to write lately
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herzgeist-writes · 4 months
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One Piece Headcanons - As If It Was Yesterday
Characters: Zoro, Law (pre-relationship) | Trope: Their little 'first' moments special to them | Content: For fem!readers - Wholesome and a tiny bit angsty in the end- enveloping you in bunny plushies
A/N: A 'little' headcanon for my favorite swordsmen, which 'first' moments they shared with you and cherish the most
Dividers by cafekitsune ~
Inspired by @themushroomofdeath - I really hope you like it
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1st time you sparred together Your powerful blows, ferocious attacks and eager upkeeping grabbed the swordsman's attention. It's rare he lets a woman fight him, countering your advances with everything he's got. Usually, Zoro's one to lay low on fighting a woman - but you? He hasn't had this much fun in quite some time.
Swords clash against your weapon, sparks of friction restricting your vision as you notice the devious grin of your sparring partner, Zoro.
"Not bad. I feel like fighting a feral kitten."
"Oh shut it!"
Dodging and parrying every last counter of the pirate hunter, you can hear an amused huff, panting at you in nearing exhaust.
"Hold still already!"
"Only to be Lion song'd by you? Are you kidding me?"
Too fast you spin around, trying to face him while you reply, losing your balance in the process. Very smooth (Y/n). However it was a close call - Zoro caught you just in time, sneering at you in victor.
"Didn't need a fancy attack to sweep you off your feet eh?"
He most certainly did not. Zoro's face is close, too close - you feel his hot breath fanning against your skin. Clearing his throat in the faintest of abashment, he straightens you again and compliments you. Yes, compliments you.
When it's due, the swordsman isn't one to withhold you from earnest opinion, thus he grumbles:
"You did good. Just work on your focus and you'll be rocking the battlefield in no time."
"Thank you, but-"
The onyx of Zoro's eye sparks up, glaring you down in sheer annoyance.
"Just take it."
Seeing the tinge of dusted pink on the tip of his ears, it indicates you to simply accept his final resort. He sure is flustered . . for a reason you cannot explain, one he will remember all too well.
1st time you took a nap together How dare you take in his favorite spot? He loves snoozing on that exact spot, and you sat there, all curled up like a cat and snoring like a woodcutter. Might be an overstatement, at least the woodcutter part, however he cannot help but find it inviting to scoot over next to you and let your head fall down onto his shoulder.
Growling in irk, Zoro scratches the back of his neck - lost in what to do with you. Little you, who lies on his favorite spot to nap on.
"Ugh, what now . ."
Easier said than done, he decided to take a seat beside you. A bit stiff and insecure on his feet, he lowers down and shuffles closer, your legs touching slightly. By the warm sensation you rustle up in your sleep, yet only for a split second - practically jumpscaring the man.
Luckily, Zoro was able to keep his grunt of surprise at a lower volume and his gaze shoots to your mellow, sleepy face. Your head rests on his shoulder, breathing in steady pace. Adorable, is what comes up in the pirate hunter's mind - observing you closely and a smile hushes over his lips.
"Annoying little thing."
As annoying as he likes to describe you, he swiftly adds, giving a kiss to the crown of your head:
"Sweet annoying little thing."
And all that he muttered, whispering to himself in disbelief how warm and soft he feels in your presence. Truly calm and at ease. Something only you can provide him.
1st time you gave him a nickname What did you just call him? Wait. It actually sounded nice, coming from you. (Not like that shitty cook) The way you cood, almost singing it to him all sweet and with a hint of tease. Zoro knew you weren't a person to test him by calling him names - you simply showed your rosy, loveable side. Oh and he knew - and how he did, to this day.
"Hey tiger, got a minute?"
"Erm, are you talking to me?"
"Do you see anybody else around?"
Confusion is beyond what plasters over Zoro's face. He is utterly dumbfouned - uncertain on how to react to that highly unusual 'nickname' you just shot at him. Tiger?
"Say it again."
"What, tiger?"
"Again."
"Uh . . tiger."
It grows on him, not to mention bears a flattering effect on the stoic swordsman, thinking he's as strong as that striped beast. He does like the sound of that, especially how your voice melodically hums it to him.
"One more time."
"Zoro, come on don't play that card on me I-"
"That's not my name anymore."
A wide grin flashes at you and he approaches you slowly, making you a tad bit rattled. You feel how the heat in your cheeks saturates your skin softly, earning a vexed sigh out of you. However, the booming call of a certain cook lets the so called 'tiger' gnash his teeth in gremlin like manner.
"Oi Marimo! Get your ass over here!"
"Can't you see I'm busy, curly brow?!"
He isn't done with you, oh no. After losing the cussing battle against Sanji, Zoro swears to come back and make you say it. Again.
"Don't move a muscle. You and I have to settle something, sweet thing."
Oh dear . .
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1st time he saw you There you were, your wanted poster. It was the high bounty that caught Law's attention first, then remembering the rumours of your foolish doings and last but not least - analysing your appearance. The surgeon isn't prone to be attracted to the outside of a person, still you withheld a certain esteem that he finds vaguely intriguing, even upon your first meeting. This is a feeling he dearly holds in his memory, to say the least.
"Well, nice to meet you. I'm (Y/n)."
"Trafalgar Law."
His hand is cold, calloused, rough around the edges. The firm grip tells you he isn't likely accustomed to this sort of introduction - a calm one, where individuals can actually look into eachother's eyes and not throw curses of rivalry against one another's heads for once.
Though that you are rivals, you thought it to be a more decent, mature way of greeting a fellow pirate. Strange? Yes, but it's extraordinarily welcoming for the Surgeon of Death, knowing there are in fact less numbskulls around than expected.
Grey irises basically scan you, closely following the outline of your feminine frame. You're smaller than he ought you to be. Staring down at you, he notices an intesity within your eyes - one that captivates and lures him to think you are smarter than you give yourself credit for.
Modesty is something he dare say deems attractive - he remembers the moment he realized what kind of woman you are.
"Let me make this clear, don't cross me. I don't take kindly to idiots hindering me, understood?"
"Oh I would never."
It's the mischevious tone in your voice, mixed with a coy sneer that opts him to click his tongue and roll his eyes. She's a rival alright, a supernova at that. She's dangerous - more than in one aspect.
1st time he fought beside you Law was astounded by your endurance and bravery throughout the first battle beside you, not to mention your cunning - knowing where and when to engage and find possibilites to support your partners. Yet also, it wasn't a surprise that you are too naïve, too impulsive and impatient for the next move. Speaking of, Law found himself staring whenever you strike with all your power - it left him rather entranced seeing your gracious demeanor, unadmittedly for certain.
"Watch where you're going idiot! Wait for the right moment!"
"I'm not yours to command, Trafalgar!"
Of course you run off by yourself. Law is used to that kind of behaviour, to his misfortune. Sprinting after you, he watches in horror as a giant's hand is about to grind you into dust and pounds the earth with an ear deafening rumble.
"(Y/n)-ya!"
Out of impulse he cuts the enormous fist in two, only to find . . nothing beneath. It was then where a sudden booming groan takes Law aback, coming to notice the giant loses his conciousness and slams to the ground face foward.
"What the?"
"Were you looking for me?"
Tapping his shoulder, you stand next to the panting doctor, who subsequently snaps at you for scaring him like that. How dare you!
"Y-No! Absolutely not! I knew you were alright, his hand was just . . conveniently in my way to be torn to shreds."
"Ah, I see. And it wasn't my name you called out to I assume."
"I didn't call for anybody, you're simply imagining things, (Y/n)-ya."
An arrow aims straight for your head, which you dodged in a swift move, almost effortlessly. More and more arrows follow, a rain of wooden projectiles threatening to pierce every inch of your skin, yet you scoff at the Heart pirate and beckon him nonchalantly.
"Come on, Law-ya! This isn't over yet! Let's find the others!"
With his mouth wide agape in appall he glares daggers into your back, grinding his jaw in rage as he yells close behind you:
"Mock and boss me one more time and I swear I'll hold your heart hostage."
"How romantic."
It's how you chuckle while hurdling the battlefield like a cat, parrying and countering attacks along the way, leaves Law tongue tied. He growls - deftly supressing the wave of emotion he hates the most. Fluster.
1st time you hugged/kissed him Never has he thought of getting this close to you, or you to him. And to his absolute demise, he never imagined to 'long' for more, after you wrapped your tiny self around his neck to console him. Nevertheless, the kiss was nothing but malice, taking him off guard - oh how he wanted you to do it again. He reminisces in that past moment almost daily.
"What was that just now, Heartstealer?"
"It was nothing! Can you just not? I'll treat this laceration with a quick precautionary stitch and cauterize. Just- have my back will you?"
You notice distress in his quaking frame, shaking and riled up as if seen a ghost. His hand takes care of the deep wound on his forearm, which he only recently caught, not accepting a unanticipated infection. There's too much blood loss and Law feels his concentration fading.
Without further ado, you support the man who gnarls at you immediately. Not keen on your kindness.
"Don't touch me!"
"You need my help right now, dumbass! Hold still and tell me how to stitch and cauterize!"
He obeys - for now. Unwilingly he instructs you how to lead the needle and burn the tissue in order to close his wound. The process is quick but rather painful, seeing how Law grits his teeth and hisses by the contact of the searing heat.
"You're distraught."
With your voice low, you attempt to find the reason for his unease.
"It was the burning chapel wasn't it?"
No words are needed to see the overwhelm in Law's expression. Never have you thought to witness this man in genuine worry, almost fear. He mutters, swallowing the clump of sorrow to maintain his pride.
"They didn't deserve to pass like this. They haven't done anything wrong . . I was too slow. Too weak. I couldn't -"
"Hey, hey . ."
After you wrapped up his lower arm with bandages, you enclose the distance between you and Law - slinging your arms around his neck to sufficate the dark thoughts fogging up his mind.
"Sshh, don't dig into a scar that's still healing. Calm down."
Your warmth singes his heart, earning a surprised 'Mhm' out of him as he earnestly enjoys being hugged by you.
"Oi, what are you-"
It's forgein, still unpleasant somehow, nevertheless he cannot bring himself to turn you down. Slowly, his functioning arm glides over your back, subtly pulling you closer, movements hestitant out of uncertainty.
Drawing back, you look deeply into his eyes, smiling bright enough to reassure he isn't alone. Not anymore.
"Now isn't the time to talk. If you ever wish to get rid of the weights on your shoulders-"
A tad bit awkward - your face inches closer to his, your hot breath fanning against Law's cheeks - making him . . feel. Thus you continue with the sweetest of consoling hums:
"- know you can put your trust in me. Your sense of security is important to me and I will never force anything out of you. Just pay mind to your mental stability. Alright? We need you as the Surgeon of Death in battle right now . ."
Unexpected, lips, soft and sweet as honey, peck the round of his face, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. Law is left speechless, unsure how to respond, dumbfounded by your gentle gesture he cannot fathom if he ever received.
Besides Corazon's affection he earned, this is fairly different. He sighs as he sees you walking out the room to check the battle's situation outside.
Fingertips drift along the spot you placed your velvet skin upon. Why does he want you to do it again?
"Tch, this woman . ."
No, this is bad. He needs to forget this ever occured, but he couldn't, he never did.
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mcdonaldsnumberone · 1 year
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BOOMBOOM!
bllk boys as otome love interests
gender neutral reader
content warning(s): some of them may be sentient
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ISAGI YOICHI!
the best friend and lead character!
Everyone loves and treasures this kind of love interest. Isagi is the hardworking, earnest kind of male lead, and no matter what kind of obstacle the game tosses at you, he’s the love interest that always comes out on top to save the day! Some people might call him boring or are quick to dismiss him as the bland protagonist, but in reality, there’s more to Isagi than the smiley, good boy attitude he puts on. As the lead protagonist and the poster boy, Isagi’s an awfully greedy love interest. If you aren’t prepared to give him your entire heart, then you might get horrendously caught off guard by his egotistical and almost sadistic way of demanding love. After all, this is his game, isn’t it?
“I love you,” Isagi whispers gently. The scene’s perfect: a lovely setting sun that dyes the edges of his world with the most breathtaking swirls of pink and orange, a gentle breeze that ruffles his hair, and the comforting weight of you leaning against his shoulder. He could die right now, and Isagi swears that he’d still be the happiest man in the world. He feels like he’s been through thick and thin with you.
And he always would be there for you. That’s what someone like him was for, right? He cranes his head, and he glances down at you. The smile on his face is infectious, and you find yourself grinning up at him too. Deep down, you should know that Isagi’s just a video game character, yet as the cutscenes unfold and Isagi continues to proclaim his love for you, you can’t help but feel like he’s more of a real blood-and-flesh person rather than a compilation of blurred pixels on your screen.
He presses a shy kiss to the crown of your head, and he cups your face. Isagi’s hands are careful yet soft, and you want to bury your face into his touch. How could he be so loving yet so unpredictable at the same time? Was this truly the same man who vowed to raise hell the moment anyone else threatened his claim on you? Not that it mattered. You’d never have eyes for anyone else.
“Tell me you love me too,” Isagi urges. He nudges you playfully, and you curiously glance up to meet his big blue eyes. 
> “I love you too, Yoichi.”
> “Let’s be together forever.”
ITOSHI RIN!
bad boy rival!
It’s only inevitable that you get off on the wrong foot with a love interest like Rin. He’s gruff and rough around the edges, and he has no time for anyone that fails to live up to his standards. But behind those hardened walls is a wounded boy who wants love more than anybody else around him. He might brush off your open hand more than once, but if you’re insistent enough, he’ll become the most loyal lover of them all! Only those that can brave the sting of his bites are rewarded the sweetness of his exclusive kisses. Besides, his beautiful black hair, alluring eyelashes, and piercing teal eyes are all physical features to make even the most jaded of people to instantly fall in love with him. Maybe you’ll be the one to melt his icy heart?
Rin pouts, and you know immediately that he’s avoiding your gaze. “...Quit looking at me with those eyes.”
“What eyes?” You innocently ask. You know perfectly well what you’re doing to him. You hang off of his arm, pursing your lips and looking up at him with the best puppy eyes your avatar character can muster up. “C’mon, Rinnie… Do you not like being with me? Is that it?”
The boy grits his teeth, and the light flushes of pink dusting his cheeks signal to you that you’re getting closer and closer to your goal. “T-That’s not it…! Ugh, stop clinging to me so much. It’s gross. You’ll make me throw up.”
“Ehhhh? Is it so wrong for me to want love from my boyfriend? Hmph! If you act like that, I’ll just go and find someone else instead!” You pretend to huff, holding your ground. He grits his teeth. You’re enjoying this far too much, and Rin lets out the biggest sigh, defeatedly shaking his head and exhaling deeply.
“...Fine. I’ll take you out to the new cafe that opened around the block. And fine, fine, I’ll pay for it. Happy now?” Only then does he look at you. Despite his harsh glare, the corners of his lips twitch subtly, and you’re more than aware that Rin only puts up the tough guy act to keep up his jaded reputation around his social circles.
You clap your hands delighted. “Yes! You’re the best, Rinnie!”
The otome game character huffs, and he holds his head high. “You owe me though.”
> “How about a big ol’ kiss?”
> “Ehhh? So mean! I’ll tell on you to Sae!”
NIKO IKKI!
shy, shy, shy!
Quiet, introverted, and observant, Niko really isn’t the kind of otome love interest that might grab your attention by force or wedge his way into your route. His appeal comes in his constant presence and his intrigue. Everybody knows about the loudspoken guys or the troublemakers, but only a select few have the courage or the knowledge to befriend a loner love interest like Niko. Don’t get him wrong—it’s not that he’s a loser or anything. Niko has his own voracious streak that he keeps beautifully under wraps. He’ll draw you in with his concealed charm bit-by-bit, fully luring you away from the pomp and circumstance of your stereotypical otome routes. You’ll always come running back to him once you’re hooked. That much he’s sure of.
“You know, I never thought a guy as reserved as you could be so lively,” you admit sheepishly. You can never pinpoint how Niko’s feeling exactly, but you’re sure that if you could push past his long bangs and look into his pretty eyes, he would probably blush and look away. The loud electric noises of the arcade echo in your ears, and Niko bites the inside of his cheek in concentration as he guides the claw machine to bend to his will.
He cheers softly to himself, and he ducks down. You glance over at him, and before you know it, you’re greeted with a fluffy bunny plushie in your face.
“...it’s for you,” Niko mutters. He’s looking away from you, clearly feeling a little shy. “I only get to come out to things like this because you invite me. Otherwise I’d probably be at home. You’re the only person who asks to do things like this with me.”
You take the plushie from him, and you give it a big squeeze. “Awwww, Niko! You’re too sweet. I like hanging out with you, you know? You gotta give yourself more credit. I think you’re fun to be with.”
“You think I’m fun to be with?” He hesitates. He wants to say “enough to hang out with me alone?” but he stops himself. The last thing he wants to do is scare you away. But he likes it. The unspoken tension, the quaint intimacy of being able to have your company all alone, away from the other noisy and annoying people.
He smiles warmly, and he turns towards you. “It’s almost like a date since it’s just the two of us here.”
> “Do you want to make it a proper one then?”
> “That’s so cute! We should do this more often!”
MIKAGE REO!
rich boy ceo millionaire!
From the start, this world was meant to be a stepping stone for Reo. Everyone fawns over a love interest like him. He’s skilled, handsome, and even if it weren’t for his actual skills, anyone would be blinded by the sheer amount of wealth he has. And like any good otome game worth its salt, his interest is on you, the player! He’s a princely gentleman on the quest to find a treasure unlike anything else in his glamorous life, and what better solution to his search than someone like you? He’s interested in how you seem to be so distanced from the rest of this fictional world. It’s like you’re from a different universe, and if he manages to put you in the palm of his hand and take over you completely, he’d have something unique that no one else in this world could ever own…
Reo’s fingers are gentle and warm, and they tickle when he brushes his fingertips against the curve of your cheek. You want to lean into his touch, but he’s fickle. He keeps you chasing after his advances, and the two of you have mastered this odd game of chase: show just enough to keep the other interested, but not too much. 
His penthouse screams luxury. You know trying to calculate how much everything in it would cost would give you an eternal headache, but you’re more preoccupied on the thick chemistry that hangs in the air between you two. None of the housekeepers nor his parents are in sight, and it’s just the two of you stuck alone in his room.
“You’re such a strange person…,” he trails off. His fingertips trace over your nose, the apple of your cheeks, and the swell of your lips. You want to kiss his fingers, press his dainty hands against your lips, but you press your mouth into a thin line. You provoke him silently, dare him to approach you closer so that you can ensnare him in your charm.
What a dangerous game, you muse to yourself, both in the moment and in the bigger picture.
“The more time I spend with you, the more confused I get,” the purple-haired boy laughs. His voice rings around the spacious suite, and he cups your face with his palms. The touch is electric and paralyzing, and you don’t dare breathe as he brings your face close to his. “What have you done to me?”
“I don’t know,” you coyishly respond. You blink at him flirtatiously, leaving the boy breathless.
He sighs, and he shakes his head slightly. “Then you don’t mind if I get bolder, would you? What would you say if I said I wanted to steal you away from the rest of the world?”
> “Do it. I don’t mind. Make me yours.”
> “Oh? Shouldn’t I be the one monopolizing you instead?”
OTOYA EITA!
good-for-nothing flirt!
Otoya is the guy everyone warns you about. In every gameplay video’s advice, in every walkthrough’s comments, even in the fanfiction that randomly pops up on your screen… Falling for Otoya is bad news. He plays with feelings even more casually than he plays soccer, and wherever he goes, he leaves a trail of shattered lovers in his wake. But the heart wants what it wants, and it’s hard to stay away from him once you’re entranced by his cool charm and his unexpected flirting. The only way to tame a playboy’s heart is to give it a taste of his own medicine or to find a way to make him acknowledge you as a final boss of sorts. You’re determined not to end up as another one of his scorned talking stages, and when you double down on the fact that you’re not letting him slip through your hands, Otoya’s route becomes so much more interesting.
You dig your heel into the ground, and you tighten your grip on the flirtatious boy’s arm. “Not so fast, Mr. Ninja! I’m not letting you disappear on me like that! You promised me a date after I bailed you out last week, and I’m not going to let you off the hook!”
Otoya gritted his teeth, trying to shake you off of him, but you determinedly clung onto him as if you were attached to his elbow with superglue. “Fine, fine! I get it! I’ll take you out properly! Will you please let me go?”
“Absolutely not!” You grunt, and you puff your cheeks out. “The moment I let you go, I know you’re going to run off after the next pretty girl you see! I know all of your dirty little tricks!”
Otoya groans and rolls his eyes, but he still throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright. You got me. I’ll take you out. And here I was, hoping you’d fall for it and let me go. Where do you want me to take you? The park? The zoo?”
You shake your head. “I don’t want to go somewhere where you take all of your flings! Take me seriously, Otoya! Take me somewhere you haven’t taken anybody else before! Somewhere new! Somewhere totally romantic!”
He scrunches his face up, and he observes you with a pointed eye. “Somewhere romantic? Aren’t you getting a little too ahead of yourself?”
“Nope. I’m not letting someone as sleazy as you get off the hook that easily. C’mon, you should be able to think of something! Don’t tell me….” Your face falls in disgust. “Have you taken out so many people on dates that you don’t have anywhere unique to go?!”
Oh, you really should have picked a different love interest in this game. There were childhood sweethearts, charming rebels, even a millionaire… And you just had to go pick the scumbag.
“What are your ideas then? Shoot ‘em at me,” he grumbles. You think to yourself, humming excitedly to yourself. If Otoya was going to be persistent on shaking you off, you were going to be even more persistent on capturing his heart.
> “How about your room? No one’s been there before, right?”
> “Take me to a wedding chapel! We’ll pretend to get hitched!”
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garoujo · 2 years
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・✶ 。゚ [13:33pm] — gojo satoru
♱ warnings — a tiny bit suggestive. f!reader , very soft satoru cause it’s been so long n he deserves it T^T
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weekends with gojo satoru were nice, pleasant and sleepy.
it was rare that he wasn’t up for work, but it still feels nice to spend the morning with his bigger body blanketing you. his bicep curling around you to hug you closer to his chest while his fingers leave featherlight touches along your spine, still warm as you bask in the remnants of your tingling pleasure.
“well good morning, sweet thing.” he breathes, his lips curling into a smile when he kisses you once on the temple and you can’t help but laugh when he follows it with a few more ticklish ones after. “it’s good afternoon now, ‘toru.” you grin and you feel satoru tangle his fingers loosely with yours before he pats around the mattress for his phone, squinting at the numbers on the screen before he wiggles closer to encourage you to cuddle up to him.
“oh yeah? ‘t’s still good aslong as you’re in my arms.” the snowy-haired sorcerer drawls, pink cheeked as he looks over you with a fondness that you’d always found in crystalline eyes that were always on yours. “you’re so cheesy.” you laugh, a breathier sort as you pat at his chest and you watch his cheeks puff when his lips pull into an exaggerated pout.
“oh, now you say that.. but how long ‘s it gonna take this time before you admit you love it.” satoru replies quickly, cheeky smile in place when he leans forward to kiss you firmly on the lips and suddenly rolls over to sit on the edge of the bed — allowing his hand to smooth through his bed head before he stands and turns to you again.
“gross.” “nuh ugh, princess. that ain’t what you were sayin’ a few minutes ago.” he hears himself answer, unfiltered amusement in his tone followed by a snicker when he quickly throws the blankets off of you as payback. but when you giggle up at him when he leans forward to gather you into his arms, just as the sun leaks through the blinds to paint you in a more golden hue — satoru takes a breath and he holds it, because he realises that love looks just like this, just like you.
“see.. can barely tear yourself away, sweet thing.” satoru laughs but he gives you a softer sort of look when he leans his head to the side, messy, white bangs falling slightly over his eyes while his hands settle into the dip of your waist.
“and how long is it gonna take for you to admit you love it?” you rebut, mimicking his words from a few moments ago before you’re breaking into a laugh when he pinches at your sides, just enough to have you squirming and giggling in his hold.
“oh? i’ll admit it right now, angel.” he can’t help but say because he loves you, his voice tender as he tries not to let it crack at how suddenly overwhelmed he feels. but you soften before you smile this time, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you let him pull you up— strong and steady as he guides your feet into his slippers because he knows the floor is always colder in the mornings, and you know there’s love in your life.
“i love you too, ‘toru.” you breathe in earnest because you know he meant it as one, and satoru gives you a look that’s a little amused as much as it is in love. “yeah? aren’t you cheesy.” he chuckles before he’s squeezing at your cheeks and kissing you again.
so weekends with gojo satoru were nice, because it’s those moments he wants to tell you that you’re his world — but then you smile at him over breakfast while draped in one of his shirts, and he knows that you’ll always be more than that.
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© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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pictureinme · 4 months
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kinktober day xxvi. THIGH RIDING – percy dolarhyde
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word count: ~700 tags: clothed sex, competitive overtones, hand-job, cumming in pants, first time kissing <3, a little overstimulation masterlist | ao3
You grind your bare arousal especially hard down on this denim-clad thigh, a high-pitched moan leaving your throat.
“Fuck, yes, just like that, baby…” Percy grips your hips like he’s the one gaining pleasure from this.
His thigh muscles are tensed up, perfect for you to rut against, chasing your pleasure. He loved seeing you like this, all desperate and wanting so much so that you couldn’t wait for him to take his cock out.
Percy’s Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you hike your skirt up, showing him just how in need you are. You roll your head back slightly as you move back and forth, revealing your glistening chest, warmed by the desert heat. He groans as he grabs your corset-covered breast, eager to feel every part of you.
Your thighs begin to shake as the roughness of his jeans rubs deliciously against your clit. The wetness soaks through his pants, and he chuckles, “God, you’re getting my pants all dirty, girl. Better clean that up after, huh?”
“Ugh, you know you like it, you– ah!”
A pinch to your clit has you collapse onto his chest, the sensitivity was almost too much to bear. Your mouth falls open, one of your hands coming to scratch down his chest through his unbuttoned shirt. Percy practically whimpers at that and begins to rock his hips against you– trying to meet your movements, “Come on, get yourself off on me, (Y/N)... don’t stop now.”
You try to fill your gaze at him with resentment– but anyone could see the lust in your eyes from a mile away, even an idiot like Percy. You grip his vest like a vice as you grind down onto his thigh, your knee grazing against his bulge at the same time.
His calloused hands immediately come to grip at your hips, tight enough to leave bruises, “Make a mess on my leg, sweetheart, come on… sooner you do it, the faster I’ll make your face all messy too, huh?”
“You fuckin’ wish, Dolarhyde,” you whine out, the pleasure betraying your intended anger. “You’d be lucky if I even let you come in my hand.”
Percy's chuckles quickly turn into pathetic moans as you reach a hand down to grasp his hardness– punctuating your words. If you were gonna make a mess, he better do it too. His grip on you speeds your movements up, you have no more control over the pace. You knew you were close, Percy always kept you on edge regardless of the situation– but you needed to make him come in his pants.
As his hands maneuvered your body onto his own, you stuck your own hand into his jeans to palm even more so at his arousal– causing him to nearly buckle over onto you.
“You play dirty, don’t you, girl?” He chokes out, eyes full of a competitive fire you so often saw in them. “Just how I like it.”
Not gracing him with a response he’d only cut off by making you whimper, you hold your tongue and start pumping him in earnest. You could feel how messy he had already made his drawers without release– you’d rag on him for that later. You hold Percy’s intense gaze as you repeatedly meet the rough fabric, he knows it’ll only take a few more moments until you lose yourself.
Harshly and quickly, you bash your teeth against his in a kiss, catching the man off-guard– the two of you had never shared a seemingly tender act before. He whimpers into the embrace, tongue already sliding against yours with a fervor like no other. Percy rocks your hips back and forth as his thighs tremble with your repeated strokes.
The two of you release almost in tandem, lips already sore from the muffling of moans– not to mention Percy’s lack of skill when it came to not involving teeth in kissing. You feel him stutter in your fist, trying so desperately to get away from the overstimulation. He does the same with you, trapping your arousal bare against the denim– any slight movement would have you scream.
His breath is hot against your lips, and so is yours as you meet each other’s gaze again.
“So,” you mumble, throat dry, “Let’s call it a draw, yeah?”
Percy looks down at your lips, smirking, “How about best of three?”
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taglist: @sunpuffsstuff @abrcmswrld
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joshfuckingkiszka · 2 months
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𝔇𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 - 𝔍𝔗𝔎
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jtk x f!reader
I love this song SO much UGH
warnings: alcohol usage, mentions of fwb situation, hickeys, lil angst
THIS BLOG IS 18+ MINORS DNI
taylor's version masterpost
reputation masterpost
Our secret moments in your crowded room They got no idea about me and you
Even though your own gaze had found purchase on the chip in your big toe’s nail polish through your open toed heels, another’s scorched your cheek. His stare was reminiscent of the ones he gave you in the bedroom, and you blushed at the thought. In his deep brown eyes, lay memories of the previous night, which could be found in the left side of your bed, where his shape had stayed because you couldn’t find it in yourself to make it and destroy whatever he had left. 
You found that if you stared for too long, the craving for him would become abhorrently intense. By the smirk on his gorgeous face, you knew that he could see how shaky your champagne-filled hand and your deep breaths had become. 
In your attempt to make it seem like you weren’t staring for too long - don’t attract too much attention - you realized you had lost him in the crowd. That being, before his long finger was tapping you on the shoulder and for a second, your heart stopped. The fear did not cause the abnormal beat, but his presence did, and everything seemed to halt in that moment. 
Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend
“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes at his saccharine tone. 
Caving in, you answered, “I would be more if there weren’t … such a crowd.” Subtle. 
“I can see how that would bother you.” 
When he offered no explanation, you countered, “How so?” 
“Well those bruises peeking out from under all that makeup on your chest looks like they hurt.” You blushed, covering what only he knew was there. 
“I told you not to be so … obvious with your … affection,” you lightly scolded him, even though you had practically begged him for them. The same way you would probably beg him later on. 
He hummed as a first response, pausing then asking, “New dress?” 
“Mhm.” You took a sip of your champagne, your head swimming despite how little you had drunk. “New other things too.” 
He couldn’t even reply before Josh was pulling him away, apologizing but insisting his presence was required. You scoffed when you saw Jake clearly playing wingman for Josh, some girl hanging off of his arm, and you downed your drink, heading for another. 
At the end of the night, Jake ended up at your apartment once more. The tipsiness was affecting both of you but your drunken kissing was so much more intoxicating. 
Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about
“You’re all mine, you know that?” It wasn’t in the normal dominating tone he donned in the bedroom. There was a softness to him in that moment, and he caressed your jaw as he spoke and even after. 
You looked at him in earnest, wondering how anyone could ever deserve him. “I know Jakey.” 
“I don’t think you do.” He smiled and went back in for another sparkling kiss. He was yours but Jake Kiszka belonged to everyone around him: his brothers, his friends, his fans. 
You needed him like you needed the air around you to fill your lungs, and some part of you hoped he needed you in the same way. It was a selfish thought, of course, but you had given up the most needed parts of yourself to him. Your affection was his, your hope was his, your heart, well, I think you know. 
When your “relationship,” or whatever it was, first started, you had the generic friends-with-benefits rules: no mouth kissing, no staying the night, no feelings etc. However, as time passed, the rules felt arbitrary, and you had both come to ignore them no matter the personal cost. Jake loved the taste of your lips after a night out with your friends. You loved curling up next to him, and, even more, waking up with him. The feelings were there, yet unspoken. The last rite of passage before it became an official relationship, and neither of you were sure when to take that step. You needed him to confirm what you already held as fact. So much that you were willing to almost ruin it. 
Carve your name into my bedpost 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend
“Danny asked me out.” He was silent, and you watched his eyes harden. 
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “what did you say?” You scoffed. 
He could be so dumb when he wanted to be. “Of course, I said no.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it was. 
“Why?” The obvious answer would be that you loved Jake, but that wasn’t even the obvious question. Jake wasn’t asking why you turned his friend down, he was asking why you told him. Truthfully, you weren’t really sure. 
Your throat tightened a bit as you spoke, “I just wanted you to know.”
“Know what, exactly?” He asked with a hum and a sharp inquiry of your name. 
“I-I don’t know, know that he asked. Know that other people are interested. Know that I feel like I’m losing every sense of self the longer I tell myself that one day you’ll man up and tell me that you love me so I don’t have to keep telling myself!” 
Even in my worst lies You saw the truth in me
He softened. “I never meant for that to happen, baby.” Tears had nearly breached the edge of your eye and you wanted them to, to make him feel worse, to know that he made you cry. 
“I don’t want to keep pretending that our relationship is strictly professional, or god, friendly! If it’s a conflict of interest, I-I’ll fucking resign and find something else, but I don’t want to find anyone else to share my heart with, Jacob, I can’t.” I already gave it all to you - went unspoken. 
“Okay,” he spoke calmly as he reached to hold you in his embrace, and you welcomed him. 
“I’m not good at coming up with words on the spot, but I want you to know that every fiber of my being belongs to you, that my soul is yours to keep and cherish for as long as you want. I love you.”
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
〚taglist〛
gvf: @doodle417, @brokenbellz, @gretavanfleas, @pyrojoshy, @greta-van-chaos, @xserenax-13, @hayley1623, @kdarling1, @autumns30, @keighoe, @chalametpwk, @sammysvanfeet, @shawnsthighs, @gretavanbitches, @sammiejane22, @gretavanbestie, @jordierama, @alexxavicry, @spark-my-nature, @rainy-darling
jokey: @loofypoofy, @livkiszka
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familyvideostevie · 2 years
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none but you
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you're reading aloud to steve when you realize you want to tell him something | 1.1k, fluff, fem!reader, thanks to jane austen for writing the most romantic love letter ever
Steve comes home from work looking absolutely beat. Still, he's got a wide smile for you when he spots you reading on the couch.
"Hi, Stevie," you call to him. He peels off his jacket and uniform vest, toes off his shoes, and makes his way over to you.
"Ugh," he says. You lean your head back and he kisses you upside down, sloppy and sweet, your nose bumping his chin. "Hi, pretty girl." He kisses you twice, three times, moving his lips to sprinkle the rest of your face with kisses until you laugh and push him off, turning to get a good look at him. He really does look tired, you think, though still unbearably handsome. Still Steve.
"How was work?" you ask. He waves his hand in the air as if brushing away cobwebs and makes a face. You laugh again. "Do you want something to eat?"
"Nah, not yet." He eyes the book in your lap before hoisting himself over the back of the couch and making you squeal. "Whatcha reading?" He makes a grabby motion as he slots himself into your side. He smells a little dusty, like the back room at Family Video. He must have been sorting all day.
"Persuasion. Didn't we read that in school?" he asks, flipping through the book, careful to keep a thumb in the page you marked when he came in.
"Well, I certainly did." He makes a face at you, mocking offense, before grinning.
"You got me. Guess you liked it, huh? Wanna read it to me now?" He's earnest as he asks, no hint of a joke in his eyes.
"Really? I'm almost at the end," you ask, a little breathless. You'll never get tired of how Steve makes you feel -- cared for, paid attention to. Like he'd be happy doing anything as long as you were there too.
Steve brings a hand up to your cheek, stroking his thumb over the blush forming at his request. "I don't need to know what's happening. Just want to hear your voice." His stomach grumbles and he looks down, surprised. "Maybe just one chapter, and then we'll make dinner." He winks at you before stretching out on the couch, settling his head in your lap.
"Okay," you say softly. This feels like a new kind of intimacy for the two of you, the way he wants to just listen to you talk to him as he unwinds. It fills you with warmth.
Steve's hair is soft as you gently run your fingers through it, scratching his scalp lightly. He moans a little at the sensation, preening like a cat.
"This cannot be a good angle," you mutter as he looks up at you.
"No bad angles, baby, trust me," he replies, but closes his eyes so you're not self conscious. You balance the paperback in one hand so you can keep your other in his hair.
"I was just about to get to my favorite part, actually," you tell him. "It's a love confession." You trace his cheekbones and he smiles.
"Don't keep me in suspense!"
"I can listen no longer in silence.," you start, keeping your voice soft. "I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope."
"Damn," grumbles Steve. "I gotta write you a love letter like this." You laugh and tell him to hush before continuing.
"Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death." You take a deep breath, embarrassed to find that tears have collected in the corners of your eyes. This part always gets you.
"I have loved none but you," you finish. It hits you then -- how perfect this moment is. How perfect the boy in your lap is. How much you love him. It overwhelms you for a second, like a wave. He's been through so much and he's still kind and wonderful and brave and yours.
"That it? That was like, four sentences." Steve says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You don't answer him, afraid that you'll sound choked up. "Babe?"
You swallow once, twice. "Have I told you I love you?" you say, thickly, looking down at him. His eyes pop open, unsure if this is part of the book.
He looks a little taken aback when he realizes it isn't. "Yeah, of course. You said so when you left this morning, remember?" He smiles a little at the thought, but keeps his eyes on you. "Why do you ask?"
"It's just --" you start, but find the words stuck in your throat. "You're so easy to love, okay? I would write you a thousand love letters, Stevie, if it would make you believe it."
"Woah, woah, woah," says Steve, sitting up quickly, turning to you and framing your face with his hands. "Where is this coming from? Are you okay?" he asks, concerned but gentle.
"Sorry," you mumble, trying to pull yourself together. A single tear runs down your cheek and Steve catches it with his thumb.
"Don't be sorry, sweetheart," Steve says. "I guess I just don't understand why you're upset."
"Not upset, Steve," you say, slow and steady so he hears every word. "Just reading to you, reading this letter, it made me feel it all at once, you know? How special you are, how lucky I am to love you, how easy it is to imagine loving you forever. And you deserve to know that. Every day, that you're wonderful and worth loving."
"Wow," Steve breathes. "Wow, okay. Okay, yeah." His pupils are wide, his cheeks a pink that travels down his neck and under the collar of his shirt. "I love you, too. You know that? The same way."
You nod in his hands and he leans in to kiss you sweet and slow before pulling away to settle back into your lap. This time he doesn't close his eyes, the thought of not seeing your face after all you just said a little unbearable. He wants to look at you forever.
"Start it over, will you? I want to hear the whole thing without your blubbering." You smack him gently on the chest and laugh a little wetly, and his hand catches yours and brings it to rest over his heart. You can feel it thump through his polo. You've no way to prove it, but you know your heart is beating in sync.
want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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...
#my desire to b productive vs my desire to create horribly earnest narut0 drawings#its just. i have a scene in my head that's like way too complicated to draw. but im gonna draw it anyway#and its gonna haunt me bc the dialogue is clunky. but whatever im gonna do it. this weekend. that is#i said id work on more writing school stuff today but ah i didn't sleep much and i did lots of focusing all day so like#brain is sorta mush now#snd all i can thibk abt is how much i lov 1ruka being narut0s number one dad brother#i just want to create a million scenarios where 1ruka cries over how much of a good kid narut0 is and how much bullshit he has to deal with#i just want someone to feel that pain for him. i mean. i guess thats s4sukes deal. but it feels different coming from a parent#from 1ruka it feels more. i wanna protect u. and from s4suke it feels more. i understand. lets destroy the world together. make them pay#they r the true ultimate narut0 stans. narut0 defense squad. everyone else back the fuck off#k4kashi is a 2nd teir stan. only bc hes got his own weird bullshit in canon. in my head hes also on the narut0 elite defense squad#wtf am i talking abt. ugh i need to sleep. i have to talk to ppl tomorrow. ugh no i should work on stuff#agh. fucj it maybe ill just wake up at like 5am and work on it then. and shift into proper work mode at 9 or whatever#blah. i now understand why i was feeling so like normal before this. its bc i was well rested lmao. im not at familiar levels of#exhausted unstabled energy. lov that for me#unrelated
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no1frogfan · 11 months
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Impending, part 1
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Matsukawa Issei x afab reader
Word count: ~1.1k
Tags & warnings: a bit of drinking, eventual smut (in the next part)
Note: Oops, this was supposed to be 500 words of porn without plot but now it’s going to be a multi-part porn with feelings. I’m the only one who didn’t see that coming. Here you go mica :* @princesskazuya
part 2
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“Thought I’d find you down here. Mom and dad want you to make an appearance before grandma has to leave.”
Hiro grunts, eyes glued to the television where Princess Peach is gaining on Wario.
“Oh. Hey Issei.”
Unlike Hiro, he greets you in response, sidelong glance lingering for just a moment before returning to the tv.
You make your way down the rest of the basement stairs to flop onto the ratty old couch behind them, beer swishing at the movement. The boys lay side-by-side, splayed out on their stomachs on the carpeted floor. They’re both so tall now that they barely fit between the couch and the tv all stretched out like this. It makes it hard not to think about the last time you saw them together. They used to be the same height as you and so scrawny, bony limbs poking out of baggy t-shirts and gym shorts. You could’ve taken them both in a fight, easy — and more than once you did.
But if you thought Hiro’s grown … Somehow Issei got even taller than your brother. Bigger too.
In the lead now, Princess Peach rounds the bend for the last lap. Wario is slowly closing in after an unlucky shell shot sent him tumbling off a cliff.
You tuck one leg under the other and sip your beer. Their bottles sit forgotten on the table as they jostle for the lead. What’s happening on screen is not much different from what’s in front of you as they try to knock the controller out of the other’s hands, shit-talking and shoving each other aggressively.
By the time they’ve reached the last quarter of the track, they’re just full-on wrestling. You hurriedly pull your other leg up out of harm’s way and snatch up their beers so they don’t get knocked off the table. The other racers pass by as they grapple in earnest — Hiro’s laid out on top trying to put Issei in a headlock but Issei hunches over, arms bulging as he grabs Hiro’s thigh and flips him onto his back with a thud.
You just roll your eyes.
They’ve always been like this — rowdy and obnoxious. You’d think more boys would make things more chaotic, but their other friends somehow kept them in line when they all hung out together. When it was just the two of them, they were a way bigger pain in the ass.
“Takahiro, get up here!” A muffled yell comes from upstairs.
“Dad’s calling for you.”
When they don’t stop fighting, you kick Hiro hard in the ass. “Hey!”
“Ow! What the fuck?” Hiro kicks back, missing you by a mile.
“Dad’s calling for you,” you repeat.
“Ugh,” he grumbles and pushes himself up off the floor, still catching his breath. He grabs his half-finished beer out of your hand and flips you off before heading upstairs. “Don’t touch my game.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to win for you,” you call after him.
“I said don’t touch it!”
“No promises!”
When you turn back, Issei is already holding up Hiro’s controller, one thick eyebrow raised and a wicked grin on his face. You mirror his grin.
A whiff of something clean and citrusy tickles your nose when you lean forward. It freezes you in place for a split second before your brain kicks back into gear, trading his beer for the controller and settling back comfortably cross-legged.
“Ready to get wrecked?”
It used to be so easy to rile them up. Issei just chuckles at your taunt now. Sitting up, he pulls down the shirt that’s ridden up his stomach in the tussle, covering the churn of muscle underneath. His shoulder brushes against your knee as he leans back against the couch. His hair has gotten longer, resting in easy waves atop his head. From this angle, the light catches the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck where a few curls lay plastered against his nape. This close, you can smell the salty tang of sweat sneaking through the cologne.
“You remember how to play?” The bass of his voice rumbles through you. That’s new too.
You startle when he twists around to look up at you through hooded eyes.
It’s cool down in the basement, perfect for escaping the heat of the afternoon, but you’re out of the frying pan and into the fire it seems because he’s practically laying his sweaty torso in your lap, one elbow draped over your thigh, his heavy bicep propped on you…
“Yeah, I remember.” Your voice comes out like a purr instead of a sting and he smirks.
You straighten up, shoving his arm off you. “Just hurry up.”
His eyes dart down to your chest with a hum and he scrutinizes you one last time before turning around. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else before he starts the race.
Hiro clomps back downstairs just as you cross the finish line. You’d eked out a win, barely. Mostly because you got lucky with the items. Without a word, Hiro plucks the controller out of your hands and resumes his earlier position on his stomach. Issei makes no move to join him. Instead, he plants a palm on your knee to push himself up off the floor and sinks down next to you on the couch.
You keep your eyes trained on the tv, not on him, and not on his hands. Not on his long fingers or the size of his palms.
Your senses become distinctly attuned to his proximity and the itch of his leg hair against your skin with every slight shift. You swipe through your phone wondering if it’s a distraction for him too.
“Anything catch your interest?”
A breathy murmur against your neck makes you jolt. The last race has already ended and they’re waiting for the next to start. When you turn, he’s only a hair’s breadth away, expression hesitant but goading.
Hiro yawns and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are.
You push Issei off and spring to your feet.
“I’m going to grab another beer.”
Matsukawa lets out a low groan as you scurry toward the stairs.
“What?” Makki twists around to look at him, then follows Mattsun’s line of sight up the steps until his eyeline hits the back of your thighs. “Gross, dude. Stop that.”
“No.”
“Fuck you.”
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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months
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What are Loly and Menoly gonna be like? In the anime&manga they didn't seem to do much besides beating Orihime up and then getting beaten in turn.
Well, until last week I did not know they had canonical names, and I cannot reliably spell "melony" so in the fic they've been renamed Cici (the black haired one with pigtails) and Vivi (the blonde with the pixie cut) , which is much cuter and fits with Aizen's weird double letter thing.
In the fic, they're aware that working for Ulquiorra is UGH, like- so lame. I mean he's kinda cute in a wet kitten sorta way but then he opens his mouth and says the dumbest shit you've ever heard in you life and you also live with Grimmjow so that's a low bar but there he goes, whining about emotions again. Like- we have, like? Prozac? Gin specifically brought you prozac from the human world boss. For you. Specifically. Complaining about being sad and then refusing to do anything about it is like, turbo-lame, you know?
(I may have also given them valley girl accents.)
But anyway, Hime-chan is like, SO COOL. She smuggled like, a ton of stuff in from the human world without Aizen noticing! ...And like half her closet but it was like? Subterfuge? Aizen got sooooo distracted by her wearing like twenty layers of clothes it totally never occurred to him that she might have stuff in the pockets so she brought all kinds of like, candy and nail polish- look how sparkly it is!! Okay, she did also bring her homework and she's kind of a dork but like? That's part of like? The charm? She's so earnest it's kinda sweet and you feel bad, you know?
Anyway, she's totes generous too! Like once she worked out that she wasn't gonna freeze to death, she said that if there was anything we liked we could like, totally have it? And she's sooo smart about like, color-matching- I'm a winter, but Vivi is totally an autumn, and there's a trick to picking out the right pinks and OH-EM-GEE! She totally knows how to tailor clothes too because uh- she's a little overburdened in the chesticular department, you know? Yeah, you know- Anyway, that's where this wicked cool outfit came from!
So like anyway, the thing I came down here for is that Hime-chan is also like, SUPER-GREAT at cooking which is really awesome because the only other person here who knows how to cook is Mr. Tousen and as you know the culinary situation is DIRE- Vivi says that yesterday, she saw Gin just like. Unhinge his jaw and swallow a raw chicken whole. He. Didn't. Even. Take. The. Feathers. Off. And worse? Last week I saw Aizen eating slices of white bread with nothing but mayonnaise.
They weren't even toasted.
So like, understandably, Mr. Tousen is like, MEGA-DEPRESSED and stopped eating which is super-sad so Hime-chan is gonna throw like, a kitchen party to see if we can get him to eat and then she was like- "we should totally invite the other girls!" Because I guess that's what humans are like, but she's really sweet and and she's so smart and she's gonna make like- what did she call them? Oh yeah! Guava-and-bleu cheese macarons! I don't know what they actually like, are? But it'll be good! C'mon it's gonna be cool and fun and there's gonna be a guava please say you'll come?
Tier Harribel, who has been doing an excellent impression of a granite cliff face this whole conversation: ...
Cici: *^*
Tier: ...okay.
Cici: OHEMGEEEEEEYYYAAAY! THIS IS GONNA BE SO MUCH FUN THANK YOU OKAY I'LL SEE YOU AT LIKE SIXISH? BYEEE!
Franceska: ...dude, what?
Tier: I have no idea, but I am extremely bored and actually borderline curious about this 'guava' thing.
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boxofbonesfic · 1 year
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Title: Happy New Year (A Doppelgänger interlude)
Pairing: Ransom x Reader, Lloyd x Reader
Summary: Your fiance has a special New Years surprise for you. 
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Dark!Ransom, Lloyd Hansen is his own warning, Switching Places, Alcohol, Mind games, Darkfic, Smut, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!!
A/N: so lots of people have been asking when the first time they switched places on reader was… happy new year, everyone! divider by @firefly-graphics​
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“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m just not going to make it home.” Ransom sounds genuinely apologetic over the phone. “Something came up. Harlan’s sick—could be bad.” Your heart sinks as he says it. You don’t want to feel anything but empathy, but instead, bitter jealousy curls in your stomach alongside it. After all, you’re family too, aren’t you? You’re engaged, aren’t you? 
 When do I get to come first? You feel guilty even thinking it—after all, it isn’t like Ransom hasn’t put you first in all sorts of other ways. But you’re lonely, and you miss him. You’ve been alone in this big house since just after Christmas, and it’s starting to get to you. His “day or two” visit had become three, become four—and now you were standing alone amidst the various holiday decorations you’d put up in anticipation of his arrival. 
 “That sounds terrible,” you say, swallowing down the bitter frustration. After all, it isn’t his fault. You know he’s in charge of so much at the publishing company, and you don’t want to complain. “When do you think you’ll be home?”
 I know it’s a shitty way to spend your New Year’s,” Ransom says. “No need to sugarcoat it.”
 “I just… dammit, Ran, you know I miss you,” your teeth sink into your trembling lower lip. You don’t want to cry, dammit, you’re not one of those girls who can’t spend a weekend without their fiancé. You feel silly even being upset. 
 “I know, Sweetheart. I miss you too. I promise, I’ll fly home tomorrow, and we’ll have a belated New Years party. Just you and me. Okay?” He sounds so earnest, it’s hard not to forgive him instantly. 
 “Okay.” 
 “Don’t say it like that, baby. I promise, we’ll make it special, okay?” 
 “Okay, Ran,” you say, a small watery smile crossing your features. He can’t see it, but his relieved sigh tells you he can feel the tension easing between you as well. “And you’ll call at midnight?”
 “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
 You hang up the phone, and stare dejectedly at your festively decorated house. Even though Ransom’s only coming home a day later, it all feels like wasted effort now, like you invited all your friends to your birthday party and not a single one of them showed. You kick at one of the silver balloons littering the living room floor, and it pops, showering both you and the carpet in brightly colored paper confetti. 
 Maybe it was silly to go to all of this effort, but… you want things to be special. First New Years together, first apartment together—a year of firsts that you’d completed together. It feels bittersweet to be alone now, but you swallow it. You sigh, shoving more balloons off of the couch and collapsing onto it. 
 Maybe it’s not too late to call Nat.
 Your sister texted you just the day before to ask if you had any special New Year’s plans, maybe it’s not too late to tag along with her. You grab your phone. It’s not too late, only a little past six as you pull up her contact info, and punch the green button to dial her. 
 “—as anyway. Hello?”
 “Oh, hey, Nat.” You can hear muffled laughter and the low murmur of conversation in the background. “You busy?”
 “Just pre-gaming before we go out,” she says. That rich, deep laugh sounds again, and your cheeks heat. You hadn’t realized Nathalie’s we included a male friend. “Your boo-thang home yet?”
 You let out an awkward laugh. “Ugh, no. He, um. He got held up, family stuff. I was wondering if you wanted to come over? Maybe hang out tonight?” Even as you’re speaking, you hear someone on the other end groan frustratedly. 
 “Come on, Nattie,” The deep male voice is just loud enough for you to hear. “You said you were gonna make me see stars. Was that all talk?” 
 “I would,” You can practically hear the sly smile on her lips. “But I kind of… already made plans, if you catch my drift.” There’s a loud slap, and Nathalie’s girly giggle makes you roll your eyes. “I can stop by after?” 
 “I don’t think you’ll be walking after,” you retort. “Don’t worry about it. Happy New Year.” 
 You shuffle around the house irritatedly, trying to find something to do with yourself that doesn’t remind you of just how alone you are tonight.  Depressingly, you settle on chores. You throw a load of laundry into the washer in the hallway, and meander back to the living room. You know your little decoration whirlwind will only be a hassle later, but you can’t bring yourself to take them down. The bottle of prosecco you picked up at the liquor store is still sitting in its melting ice bath on the coffee table, the two glasses next to it sadly empty. 
 “Happy New Year to me,” you mumble, climbing over the back of the couch and landing on the pillows with a dramatic oof. You reach for the bottle, carefully undoing the aluminum contradiction that keeps the cork in place. It pops out, skittering away underneath one of the living room chairs for you to find later. You pay the errant cork no mind, and pour yourself a liberal glass. 
 Bitterly, you hold it up to the quiet air in a mock toast. 
 “First drink of the night,” you say, downing half of it in a single gulp. The bubbles tickle your nose, but the alcohol is sweet and palatable. You finish the glass and pour another, reaching for the remote. By the time you've finished your second glass, the alcohol is sitting warmly in your belly, and the bitter, angry feeling roiling in the back of your mind is both less obtrusive and somehow more present than ever. Aimlessly, you flip through channels, watching other people celebrate the new year as you slide progressively further and further into the bottle. 
 After you finish your fourth glass you don't bother with it anymore, instead swigging straight from the bottle. The comfortable warmth settling in your tummy is spreading out, down your limbs, into your fingers, making your head loll as you lay there. You squint at the cable box—10:45. A whole hour and fifteen minutes left of this year. 
 The dryer dings, and you groan. “Stupid thing,” you mumble, staggering to your feet. Doing laundry while drunk is a skill set, you decide as you make your way to the hall closet, the floor tilting dangerously under your feet. There's a bang that echoes down the front hallway as you open the laundry room door, and you squint at the dryer, swaying as you try to place the noise. It sounds again, and it takes your liquor muddied brain a few seconds to understand—
 It's the door. 
 “One second,” you say, hoping the words don’t sound as slurred to the person on the other side of it as they do to you. “M'Coming.” You eye yourself in the hallway mirror, and practice walking in a straight line before you reach for the door handle. “How can I—Ran?” Your husband's face cracks into a wide grin as you blink at him. “How—?” You hiccup, covering your mouth as your cheeks warm with embarrassment . 
 “Happy new year, Princess.” He steps over the threshold, wiping his shoes on the mat. You're so happy to see him, you practically throw yourself into his arms, sniffling. He smells good, like pine and leather. gold chain under his turtleneck rubs against your cheek through the fabric as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 
 “II thought you had to, um. Harlan,” you try to make the alcohol added words make sense on your loose tongue. “Sick?” He chuckles, cupping your chin. 
 “Someone's had a few,” he says with a laugh, and you giggle up at him. “Besides, I needed to see my girl,” he says, drawing his thumb affectately over the apple of your cheek. “I missed you… ” He trails off, his eyes focusing on something behind you. “Did you do this?” Ransom gestures to the decorations. You nod, another hiccup forcing its way up through your lips. 
 “I w-wanted to surprise you. Do you like it, Ran?”
 “I love it.” His responding laugh is dark with an emotion you can't name. He leans down to kiss you, his mouth moving hungry against yours. You kiss him back, and then wrinkle your nose, frowning as you pull away . 
 “You grew out your beard,” you say, drawing a finger across the mustache sitting just above his upper lip. “So fast…?” He chuckles. 
 "I'll shave it tomorrow." He kisses you again, moaning into your mouth. "Fuckin' sweet," he mumbles, worrying your plump lower lip between his teeth. He pulls away, panting, his eyes dark. a drink, Princess,” he says lowly. “I need to catch up.” 
 You're acutely aware of your stumbling as you head back to the kitchen for the other bottle chilling in the fridge. Ransom saves you the trouble of opening it, popping the cork and pouring himself a glass. He refills your discarded flute, and the two of you drink together. 
 “You really outdid yourself, baby,” he says, nodding at the brightly colored, festive streamers hanging in the doorways. You can't help but beam a little proudly at him.
 “I thought you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your glass when Ransom indicates that you should, tapping the stem as if to say bottoms up. 
 "Can't ring in the new year sober, can we?" He says, topping your glass back up before its even empty. "I love it. I can't believe I almost missed it," he says, shaking his head . You watch as he rounds the kitchen island, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Getting close now, aren't we, Princess?” He asks, his hands straying underneath the hem of your plain pajama shorts. “We should get ready to count down." 
 He walks you back out to the living room and flips on the television, a snowy Times Square appearing on the flat-screen. The music is almost too loud, and the room spins around you as Ransom leads you back to the couch. The champagne glass in your hand slips from your fingers, landing on the carpet with a soft tinkle as the stem snaps neatly in two.
 “R-Ran, we sh-should—” You don't remember sitting down, but suddenly you are, splayed messily across the sofa as Ransom climbs over you. Your skin burns hot from the alcohol, and you whine as his cool fingers press into your hips. 
 “I'll clean it up later.” The low sultry purr makes you shiver. You can't shake the niggling feeling that something is wrong, but Ransom won't let you think. He kisses down your jaw, nibbling at your throat as he sandwiches you between his hard chest and the couch cushions. He slides down, his knees hitting the carpet with a muffled thud as he stars up at you from between your thighs.
You don't remember him sliding your shorts off, but as his breath puffs across your moist, swollen folds, he licks his lips. 
 "Even prettier than I thought you'd be." Something about his words gives you pause, but as you struggle to sit up, Ransom's arms tightened around your thighs, pulling you forward until your hips dangle off the edge of the couch, your thighs slung over his shoulders. “That's better.” The harsh rasp of his mustache against your cunt is lost in the sensation of his tongue sliding through your folds. 
 You can't even remember what you were going to complain about, the words lost in the hiss of air through your clenched teeth. Ransom does it again, parting your soft, puffy lips to circle your slick entrance with his tongue. 
 “Princess, you better start counting,” Ransom says cheekily, “or you’re going to miss it.” 
 “T-ten. Nine— oh fuck,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face as Ransom’s tongue flicks expertly at your clit. “R-Ran—”
 "I said count, Princess." 
 "F-five, four, three— God—!" You're barely aware of the sound of your phone ringing somewhere else in the house, but you can't focus on it, not when Ransom is curling his fingers inside you like that and—
 You press your head back into the cushions, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as you cum with a whimper, your thighs clenching tightly around Ransom's head. You try to pull away, but his grip only tights, his tongue lashing against your clit as your cries grow louder, ringing in your own ears. 
 "Ransom, Ran I c-can't, I can't—!" You babble gibberish down at him as your toes curl. He doesn't move, though, doesn't relinquish his grip until you're dragged down underneath the current of sticky pleasure again. You go limp, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes and down into your hair as you struggle to catch your breath. 
 “Happy New Year!” The television hosts jump excitedly as silver and gold confetti rain down around them. Auld Lang Syne blares from your television speakers as Ransom leans back on his knees, admiring the sloppy mess between your thighs. 
 “Happy New Year, Princess,” he echoes softly, drawing a finger through your trembling folds. You whine, trying to close your thighs around his hand. “Let's make it a good one.” 
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raayllum · 5 months
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i desperately need your sweetest headcanons of ez and rayla being Siblings
Mandatory Rayla&Ezran brotp tag drop here & first some rambly meta cause like, a lot of this is based on the concept(s) of Ezran and Rayla fundamentally being more like each other than either of them are like Callum
Like they both grew up friendless (whereas Callum seems to have a lot more ease in actually interacting with new people & I've always HC'd him having less friends out of choice, cause those potential ppl didn't get along wit his brother) and feeling perpetually different, they both (like Claudia) take on their parents' previous paths and feel the weight of it. They also tend to have a lot of similar esque insecurities and hangups ("I feel like I'm letting everyone down" 3x03 —> "I failed them, I let them all down" 3x04 / "It's not fair you have to go through this alone" 5x02 —> "I knew I had to be strong alone" in 5x04 / self blame tendencies with "You knew? I'm an idiot! I should've figured it out" 2x08 —> "Ugh, I'm such an idiot. I should've figured it out" 1x09) and are both very much bleeding hearts. They're also willing to pivot away from prior missions (bringing Zym home) for causes they see as more worthy in a lot of ways — going home to rule (the individual collective) and freeing Phyrrah (the individual stranger) — even if that separates them from others and/or puts them more at risk, cause they're just loyal to causes and ideals and self-imposed responsibilities tethered to those concepts like that? I love them
Like they both are like Callum — Ezran is emotionally open and inclined towards vulnerability, like him, which Rayla is not, and Callum and Rayla, esp in arc 1, take on responsibilities that Ezran do not & all their stuff with adoptive dads and communication etc etc. — but they're also more similar to each other than they are to him. More on that here & here + bonus S5 hammering that in more than ever (Rayla going with Ezran's plan in 5x05 anyone?)
Now onto the actual headcanons
Rayla doesn't have a lot of patience for games (cards, chess, etc.) and will be a sore loser/give up when playing with just about anyone else (including Callum) but she can never say no to Ezran over it, and he's so earnest/having such a great time she can never be a total grump when they do play games together
Ezran is the one who primarily took care of her Shadowpaw, for obvious reasons, in the castle stables until she returned, hence why sweetie pie was waiting for her & ready for the Lux Aurea trip
The little archangel lunaris on his backpack was absolutely chosen with her in mind <3
Both Rayla and Ezran possess an abundance of faith in other people, and this is shown best when they're being supportive of or defending one another ("She'll know what to do" —> "He can do this, we have to believe in him" —> "She's alive. And wherever she is, she loves you too")
Rayla weaving a little braid into his hair and having Ezran weave one into hers as well because braids are for love and family, and they are certainly both to one another
This shitpost, which is really just them getting stuck on and continually adding to dumb bits for each other to laugh at
Playing pranks back and forth on Soren and sometimes on Callum
Mostly they just tag team chores like "making sure Callum has eaten and slept and left his study recently" / keeping their favourite mage out of his head
Rayla giving Ezran stealth lessons and Ezran having Rayla bake jelly tarts with him
They always insist on being on the same team when it comes to snowball fights at the Banther Lodge
Ez loves to infodump about certain things and Rayla loves to let him, especially since his trains of thought and ramblings are a bit easier for her to follow than his brother's (most of the time)
Rayla having Ezran teach her how to notice things about illusion animals so she can have an easier time telling the difference (Soren teases her about it and she socks him in the stomach)
This isn't really so much of a headcanon as it is a canon observation but in battle sequences Callum doesn't really usually focus (outside of when he's using said magic to protect Ezran) on getting Ezran away from the danger, instead trusting Rayla to do so — and she always does (1x06, 1x08, 1x09, 2x04, 5x09)
Because she's just his friend and not his subject (or for now, an official member of his council the same way), Ezran finds himself seeking out when he just needs to have dumb kid fun, and Rayla is always down to help him
On that note she's very good at knowing when he needs space vs when he's okay being fussed over (Callum, Opeli) and telling people that even when he may not be able to express it himself because non-verbal times / feeling overwhelmed
Whenever they go on roadtrips in the future, Rayla does her best to bring special snacks around for him (and teach him how to forage, which animals can help him with too)
Eventually when Ezran is a little older, Soren needles him about learning how to defend himself, and Ezran dreads having to hold a sword and initially refuses. But Rayla plops down beside him and talks him through it and reaffirms that they just always want to make sure he's safe, and that's what gets him to come around to the idea
Ezran and Rayla both being physically affectionate people — Rayla slinging her arm along his shoulders, Ezran often grabbing her hand as a sign of support (most often the one she was going to lose to the binding) and squeezing gently, like a reminder that they're both still here and everything's okay and/or going to be alright
Rayla tears up when she realizes that Ezran is finally taller than her, much to his mild annoyance and amusement
Ezran helps Rayla with her proposal to Callum, and does not tell her (or his brother) that Callum is also planning to propose lmao
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