#what do i have to do? burn scented candles while I still want to fall asleep? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milkzoro · 7 months

Text

fuck around & find out

summary: y/n is curious to how aces devil fruit powers work

a/n: i wanted to do ace cuz first, uhmm that’s my man. and second!!! the vibes are sooo fall rn & i love the cold weather,,,, so enjoy <3

warnings: MDNI, pussy eating, backshots, cowgirl, soft!ace (i luv him)

☆彡

it’s the cold months on the ship that have you cravinggggg some warmth, whether that be from your heated blankets, your warm coffee in the mornings, or late night fires with the crew… you just loved the warmth, especially this time of year. the ocean was getting colder the more up north we sailed causing freezing mists to come up and hit the deck. you’ve been hanging around ace more often too, attracting to him like a moth to a lamp. while he was back on board, you took advantage of your friendly little flame~

you are laying together with ace all cuddled up and cozy in his bed, he has a campfire scented candle burning brightly in the corner of his room. admiring the man before you makes your tummy feel warm and nostalgic.

he has you so close, arms pressed side to side as you’re both laid against the pillows resting on the back of his headboard. one of his hands start to peak out of the blankets, he stretches his fingers before hyping you up, getting you ready for his next move. “mkay i call this,,,, wizard fingers.” you can never take him seriously, your cheeks are so sore from all the smiles he’s stolen from you. wizard fingers??? this can’t be real.

ace wiggles his fingers before you as you see each one of them ignite with small little flame. you giggle. “shouldn’t they be called lighter fingers? you literally look like you’re about to go burn a candle.” he groans next to you. “oh my god y/n. you didn’t let me finish!” you stare at his hands as he starts to manipulate each of the flames from his fingers.

he pulls four of them back into his fist leaving just his index finger ignited. the flame starts to form little letters. each flash was a letter from your name. flash. flash. flash. you smile even more, he’s such a dork.

“it’s pretty cool, i know.” he smirks “wasn’t like i was even practicing or anything.” you think he’s so full of himself but you can’t help but admire, he warms your heart. your cold hands are on his body as he still has you close. his powers are so interesting. all of this came from just eating a fruit? you can’t contain your thoughts as you think of all the possibilities, he’s so warm.

maybe it was the skin on skin that were feeding your delusions but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of what he feels like.

he tucks his hands back away under the covers moving to hold your hands in his. you still haven’t answered him, your mind was still deep in the clouds. “okay maybe i was practicing,, getting it legible was kinda hard.” he laughed and you felt his chest move against your arm. “hmm?” you recollect your thoughts. ace looks at you. “were you for real not listening, y/n. that was cool! right!?” he looks at you to make sure you are finding this entertaining. “ahh sorry just not thinking right haha-” you mumbled and he looked puzzled, he shifted under the blankets to wrap his arms around you and pull you in a hug. his chin rested on the top of your head. “what do you mean.” his body burned hotter trying to warm you up.

“jus thinking about you- err well your devil fruit powers.” you curse yourself. but glad that you’re faced with his chest instead so that he couldn’t see the embarrassment on your face right now. he laughed at you again. “what’s so special y/n. i just get warm. ‘m happy you like it though.” his arms tighten around you, squeezing you softly. your tummy was doing flips again, the way he had a grip on you sent shivers to your core. the feeling of his firm, scorching arms had you craving more from him. you knew he was teasing you though. he always would, he knew how much you loved his fiery touch and playful behaviors.

you’re face to face with him again, seeing red flames in his eyes. heat spreads to your face as his eyes lock on yours, waiting for any reaction from you. you’re lips hesitate to speak. “you- you get warm… everywhere?” your eyes avoid his. his hand gripped your thighs right below your ass, softly tugging on you to get your leg wrapped around his torso. you feel his hot fingers brushing away the stray hairs that were messily covering your face. it burned hot. his face proved that he found your embarrassment amusing.

“wanna find out?”

ace kisses you softly. his hot hand reaching up the softness of your shirt and leading themselves to your perked nipple. his hands are so rough, much different than the way his lips feel. he kisses the side of your mouth and whispers softly to you, “you’re still so cold?” he giggles as he watches you squirm at his touch.

“ace, your portholes are open. it’s fucking cold in here.” you whine trying to keep his heated fingers on you. his amused grin has you needy and irritated. you reach for his hands again. “just a second babe, let’s get ya shirt off.” ace helps to fully undress you with sturdy hands. a shiver leaves your body, covering you in goose bumps as the cool sea breeze hits your skin. “i’ll getcha all warmed up baby.”

he takes his hands and starts massaging the creases of your hips. kneading and pulling on your plush skin, slowly working his tepid hands all the way up your torso. the heaviness in his touch relieved so much within you, moaning at his warmth and his strength. he is manhandling you with you such softness and love.

hot palms come up to cup under your breasts tenderly, dipping his head down and sucking against your pretty nubs. his tongue swirls around each one leaving a string of warm saliva connecting from your buds to his lips. “are we gettin there, pretty? how do you feel?” wanting more, you pull him so that his chest meets yours. he buries his face into your neck and softly suckles. his breaths are hot there. “m still cold ace, wanna feel you” you whine for him.

his lips curl into a smile against your skin, he knew exactly what you craved. “how do you want it angel?” his clothed thigh pushes against your needy cunt, collecting many fifty whines from you. his fire ignited something warm inside of you, you need it to burn brighter.

his body shuffles down the bed, inching his face to be face to face with your sleep shorts. ace wants your juices dripping down his face, seeing you twitch for him has him starving. impatiently, he removes your shorts and panties, tossing them to the floor. he takes your hands with his own while he plays with you devilishly with his tongue, squeezing your palms slightly when he feels you try to move away.

his tongue attached to you like a magnet, chasing every move, he wouldn’t let you get away. he squeezes your hands again, “that’s it baby, such a good girl.” his tongue drawing little clouds on your swollen clit. “doin so good, can’t get enough of ya y/n~” he gulps all of your juices, sucking you clean. “haah- fuck acee. mm so close.” the tip of his nose brushed against the point of your clit as he slid his lips to your weeping hole, drinking even more of you.

he flicks back and forth from your hole to your clit with his tongue. removing one of his hands from yours, he reaches for the plump of your thigh. he squeezed harshly, assuring you to cum for him. his tongue moved swiftly with your slick allowing you to reach your orgasm. “ace! ‘m cuh- cumming!! shiiit right there haa-“ the sight of his glistening face sent an aftershock to your cunt, his smirk was so sexy while he was covered with your juices.

ace’s cock ached in his boxers, there were little dark spots littered across the fabric from his precum. “can ya do one more for me baby doll?” whimpers leave your lips while your head slightly nodded for him. “you did so good fa me y/a~ now you ready to feel this dick cupcake?”

your pussy was already sopping for him but still there was a little resistance when he slid into you. ace moaned breathily at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. “fuuu- shit y/n- feel so fuckin good mmmf~” his hot hands pushed down on your low back as your pussy was busy sucking around his cock.

your eyes watered at the shear width of him, he was spreading your sore cunt so deliciously. you felt your second orgasm start to form within your overstimulated core. he reached your cervix with one final slow push. once fully fitted around his length, you fucked back on him, slowly grinding your ass against his hard thighs.

ace tried to muffle his moans with his hand but you stripped them from him, he couldn’t be quiet. his deep moans echoed in his small cabin, ricocheting deep in your pulsating cunt. you throbbed for him, he curved upwards directly hitting your sensitive spot. ace gripped both sides of your ass to speed up his pace. pulling you hard against his reckless thrusts. he was getting sloppy. each thrust was met with the clapping of your cheeks on him, he groaned with each contact hit.

“wanna look atcha-“ he flipped you around to face him. you whined at the sudden emptiness but sighed as he soon filled you back up again. “don’t worry mama, wasn’t gonna take it from you.”

his voice was going blurry in your ears, dick so good you’re hearing auditory hallucinations. he took hold of your hips again while you sat on top of him, he rocks against you slowly.

you miss his mouth, his warmth~ wanna taste him again. your arms detach from his shoulders to hang loose around his neck, forehead rested against his while he fucks up into you. you’re ready, you wanna cum around him. pussy numb from feeling his tip abuse your cervix. “mm so close ace, please fuck me-” nonsense spilling from your lips, he is fucking you dumb.

your eyes are heavy as you try to line your lips up with his, drool sliding around both of your faces. he connects with you and sucks feverishly on your swollen lips. ace begins to pull you up and down on his veiny cock, bouncing you sporadically. the tightness in your eyes not helping you postpone your orgasm. “mmm ahh huhh- f-fuckk gonna- agh i’m cumming baby!!!!” the pleasure washes over you like a tsunami, it’s almost too much. your legs start to tremble as you effortlessly squeeze and clench around his width. “fuck cum in me ace- warm me up~” your wall’s are contracting around his poor, twitching cock while you milk him~ his breaths were shaky and irregular as he chased his own release.

“y/nnn-“ his husky voice filled your ears as you saw him cum inside of you. hips shuttering as his orgasm strikes him. pretty black hair sticking to the beads of sweat stuck to his forehead, his eyes tightened as he grunted out your name a few more times. glistening before you, he looked so ethereal..

* we are cuddling and warm and soo in luv !!! *

#one piece smut #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace smut #ace smut #one piece x reader

2K notes · View notes

cheollipop · 5 months

Text

❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.

❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up

❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.

You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.

Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.

“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.

“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.

This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”

He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”

“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.

A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Too long.”

Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.

It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.

Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.

Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.

A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.

The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.

And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”

Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.

“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.

Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.

Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.

Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.

As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.

The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.

“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”

He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.

Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”

He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.

Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.

“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”

All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.

“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.

“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”

You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.

“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.

Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.

“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.

“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”

A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”

Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.

Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”

His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.

“What are you—”

“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.

You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.

“Fuck, Woo, please—”

Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.

“Close?”

It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.

He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.

It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.

Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.

“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.

“What?”

“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.

With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.

The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#cromernet #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jung wooyoung fluff #wooyoung fluff #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

1K notes · View notes

mykoreanlove · 5 months

Text

conditional

„Baby? I’m home.“

Hyunjin came back from practice, beaten and tired, but eager to see you again. He threw his new Versace bag in the corner and scouted the area for you. “Baby?”

But his baby was nowhere to be found. He looked for you in every room – the living room was empty even though there were still some vanilla scented candles burning. Your bedroom was empty too, it still looked the same way it did when Hyunjin left you this morning. Now he was getting worried. “Y/Nnie?” He opened the door to your office but that was empty, too. Silently, he muttered to himself. “Damn, y/n, where are you?”

It wasn’t until he opened the door to the bathroom that he found you – passed out on the cold marble tiles.

Hyunjin was startled but quickly regained composure as he noticed your journal right next to you. He smirked amused. “Did you fall asleep while journaling again? What are you manifesting this time, baby?”

He crouched down and took a look at your journal, his handsome features suddenly turned ice-cold. Privacy was important in every relationship, especially this one, but he couldn’t help himself. He scanned the pages roughly – words of self-abuse were written all over those white pages. Hyunjin turned around and took a good look at you. Your face, even though you were asleep, looked in distress. Your cheeks were reddened, eyes puffy with your mascara smeared, turning you into a panda. “My baby cried herself to exhaustion”, he muttered in disbelief.

Your boyfriend decided to let you sleep for a while and invaded your privacy instead, he needed to know what made you upset like this. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? No.

He sat right next to you and took your journal into his hands. He once gifted you this brown leather book, in the hopes of you filling it with the most beautiful words. But what was written in here was far from beautiful.

I had a talk with Chan today. His daddy sensors were tingling, and he somehow knew that I felt off. I swear to God, he sees me as another kid of his. But I admit, it feels nice. I don’t like talking about my insecurities but with him it’s kinda easy. I never talk about them with anyone, not even Jinnie. I just can’t. I don’t want to.

Hyunjin stopped reading and let out a deep sigh. He looked at you again, wondering why you kept secrets from him. It hurt him tremendously, the love of his life couldn’t communicate her deepest pain with him. Instead, she talked to his hyung? He would confront Chan later, now was not the time for more drama.

How did I end up talking to Chan in the first place? Well, I ran into him when I was on the way back home. I had a very important doctor’s appointment today.

Hyunjin’s whole body shuddered, anxiety taking over. An important doctor’s appointment? How did he not know this? Were you sick? Was something wrong? He panicked, internally debating if he should wake you this instant. He chose to continue reading instead.

I have very bad period cramps and decided to check them out, so I went to the doctor. And he did some tests and what do you know? I might not be fertile. Can you believe that? Me, a young woman in the prime of her life, may not be fertile. I might never become a mom. Jinnie might never become a dad. At least, not with me.

Hyunjin choked.

Panicked, he turned around and faced you again. “Baby. My baby, I am so sorry. I am so so sorry that you had to handle this on your own. Oh my god, y/nnie.” He caressed your cheek with his hand and watched you sleep. He felt guilty, as if he missed out on important parts of your life. Why didn’t you trust him with this?

He noticed the tear strains on the next pages, tearing up as well.

It’s not fair.

Life is not fair. Why is something like this happening to me? I always took care of my body. I eat healthy, I work out, I take my vitamins but somehow, I’m not able to become a mom? Heck, I don’t even know if I want kids, but now I probably will never have the choice to decide.

Why me?

Hyunjin stopped reading for a second. He felt your pain in every written word and it shook him to the core. He couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your skin right now.

And after this appointment I ran into Chan in the park. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I guess I needed to let off some steam. I told him about the test results, and I told him that I felt like a giant failure, and I told him that I had no idea how I should tell Jinnie. Or rather if I should tell him at all or simply break up with him.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your dramatic ass. “As if you just could break up with me y/n. You’re stuck with me forever.” He continued reading.

Chan just listened and asked me one single question. Just one.

Do you believe you’re worthy of being loved?

Isn’t it funny how one question can catch you off guard? Because that is exactly what happened. And now I’m sitting here on the cold bathroom floor trying to make sense of it.

Do I believe I’m worthy of being loved?

“Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes”, Hyunjin muttered under his breath.

I guess?

I mean I have a wonderful boyfriend who clearly loves me very much, so the answer kind of has to be yes.

But do -I- believe I am worthy of being loved?

Hyunjin paused one last time and looked at you. He wondered if he should stop reading, he wondered if he was armed for whatever was about to come. Did you really not believe you were worthy of being loved? He felt the pit in his stomach, realizing he had to be the shittiest boyfriend on the planet. Not only did you keep secrets from him, but you also questioned something so banal. Wasn’t it his job to show you the exact opposite?

He let out a sigh and continued reading.

If I’m totally honest? No.

I never felt like that. I always felt like I had to be perfect in order to be worthy of love. But I never was perfect. And I never will be. My tits are too small. My tummy is too fat. My hair is too flat. My lips are too thin. I’m not cool enough. Now I’m not healthy enough. And soon I won’t be young enough. So no, I never felt like I was good enough to be loved.

Hyunjin cried silently, reading every word with care.

How the fuck am I supposed to tell Jinnie? He is going to leave me; he should leave me. I’m not normal, I’m flawed. I don’t deserve to be with him. He deserves someone better, someone on his level. Someone that is just as beautiful and popular as him. Someone with big tits and a flat tummy and super big hair and plush lips that he can kiss all night long. Someone that is healthy and might gift him a child someday. That can never be me.

Hyunjin tossed your journal aside and started bawling, his sobs distracting the silence of the night. He couldn’t believe this; he couldn’t believe you. Were you serious? That's what you thought of yourself? Why did you hate yourself so much?

His crying woke you up, alerting you in seconds. You got up on your feet and hugged him, holding him as tight as you could. “Jinnie, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

He hugged you back and sobbed into your shirt, you were barely understanding a word.

“You, y/n, you’re what’s wrong!”

You paused, scanning the room for your journal. It was lying on the floor next to your crying boyfriend.

“Did you…?”

He nodded, wiping away his tears. Anger masked the shame you were feeling as you wanted to get up, but he was quicker and hugged you in the tightest embrace known to mankind.

“I had no right to, I’m sorry y/nnie. I am so, so sorry.”

Even though you felt ashamed you were relieved, too. Finally, the cat was out of the bag, and you didn’t have to carry this big burden on your own. You hugged for a while, both of you crying silently.

“Can we talk about what you wrote?”

“Do we need to?” You looked down.

His index finger tilted your chin carefully, looking at you with the utmost care. “Yes, my love. We need to.”

You sighed and gave in.

“Do you really feel that way?”

“Hm.”

“Do you think I’m perfect?”

“Of course. You are perfect, Jinnie.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Sometimes you remind me of a fourteen-year-old girl, y/n.”

You got offended: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You do realize that nobody is perfect? Not even me?”

You scoffed. “Did you tell your face that?”

He let out a laugh. “You’re so silly, baby. What did you write about your tits being too small and your tummy too fat? I could say the same thing about me being too skinny and not ripped enough. You do realize that we all are beautiful in our own way? And that everybody got a different taste? What if I liked your tits this size? What if I loved your curves exactly like that? Has that ever occurred to you?”

It had not.

“And let’s talk about you being not normal. I understand that the fertility thing is a grave prophecy but that doesn’t make you less normal than anybody else. It doesn’t diminish your worth baby. Nothing could ever do that. Do you get that?”

You grabbed the hem of his shirt tighter and started sobbing again. “Jinnie, what if I can never conceive? What then?” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Then we’ll figure out a way, my love. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

You looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

He chuckled, flashing you his warmest smile. “Yes, I am sure. I love you, y/n. I love you for who you are. I fell for your soul baby, not your body or what you could do for me. To me you are absolutely perfect.” He kissed the tears away, holding you even more closely. “Y/Nnie? Don’t ever think that my love for you is-“

“Conditional?”

490 notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Text

Ok but what if I had to continue this story about Knight!Ghost and Presumptuous maiden!reader

She can still feel his breath on her, but the huge body pinning her to the wall ceases to move.

"...What?"

It’s pure shock.

She’s dropped so quickly she has to take support from the stones behind her.

She wouldn’t have to: Simon grabs her by the arm and prevents her from falling forward and back towards that plated chest. His eyes search for hers, and she looks up at the knight who almost raped her – in the corridor of all places like she’s nothing but a common whore. But for the first time ever there’s genuine shock, even fear in his stare. The remnants of lust flicker back alive every now and then, but mostly he looks like she just hurled a powerful curse at him when she told him she’s a virgin.

"I'm sorry,” she tries. “I’ll–I’ll never do it again. I promise."

"Bloody fucking…"

He looks her up and down, the leather straps of his armour wailing from his still heaving chest. She should bolt, now, when Simon has taken a step away from her and is clearly puzzled and confused. But she can’t: those eyes rise to hold her captive again. And now, there’s anger in them.

"You should be whipped."

"For what...?"

Her chest is heaving, too. She never knew how low her voice could get when there's want in the air and in her veins.

"You attacked me, sir. I should have you whipped," she continues like an absolute fool.

"Don't test me, girl," he slurs behind bared teeth. She finally remembers how to shut up.

"Tsk."

Simon nudges his head towards the stairway leading to her quarters. Get out while you can, the gesture says, and she gathers the hem of her heavy woollen dress and flees.

She never believed her miserable begging would stop or sway him. Simon is bound by oath and honour, or then he doesn’t want his master’s wrath upon him. Her worth is between her legs; they both know it. Defiling the king’s daughter could lose him his head.

She climbs the stairs, slips into her room and bolts the door. It should probably be strange that she’s left aching by what just happened. It should make her wake up from her silly dreams, that the only thing stopping this man from raping her is other men, not her feelings and sensibilities.

It should be considered a doom, not fate, that she only wants him more.

…

Simon never participates in the tournaments, but this time, rumour has it that he’s planning to join.

In a distressed hurry, she makes preparations for the great day. There can be no other reason for him to joust other than the wish to win her favour back. His actions speak louder than any words, and just for the sake of that, she has kept her promise. She walks the halls as if the knight called Simon never even existed. She won’t look his way even when he has his back turned on her. She only dreams about him when the moon is full and there are no more candles burning in her lonely room.

But it’s hard.

It’s difficult, and it’s a horrible fate she has to suffer, because now it’s he who can’t keep his eyes off her. Now it’s Simon who has suddenly caught her scent, who is suddenly interested in dangerous, stupid sports such as jousting that could injure or kill a man. But he’s willing to do the thing he apparently hates most – along with the fevered attention of insufferable, flirtatious maidens – because he needs a token of her favour. She’s sure of it: that’s why she embroiders a tiny ‘S’ on her finest, most precious handkerchief.

The tournament day is as beautiful as can be. Her heart is about to rend itself out of her chest when Simon approaches her, riding across the field in his heaviest grey armour. He’s surrendering himself at her mercy, and at the mercy of other people’s ridicule, rumour and gossip by making it known that he thinks himself worthy of her blessing. She wonders if she’s the one being played now: she can’t decipher why he would refuse her one day, then fight to gain her favour the next.

He accepts her silken handkerchief with a blank expression, but his eyes betray the inner turmoil when he sees the embroidery. A plain, simple token would have sufficed – the adorned ‘S’ is a bit too much, it's a clear sign. It’s ten times more clear than her earlier games, ten times more blaring than her vivacious little flirt. She could've embroidered the sentence “If you come up to my room at nightfall, I will let you in,” on it and the meaning would've been just as obvious.

He tucks it under his breastplate and gives her a sideways look that is filled with both distaste and longing. Only Simon can speak entire sentences through his eyes. They say, “You’ve gone too far,” and “If I come out of this alive, you’ll get whipped, or fucked, or both.”

And one thing she never knew about Simon was that he could joust better than anyone. There’s one dead, three wounded and five humiliated by the time Simon is declared the winner of the tournament. Everyone understands now why he never joins these things: he will only rob the fun of other knights by toying with them.

Her chosen one accepts the king’s words and the crowd’s applause with a stern but slightly painful expression. Simon would rather be anywhere but here, but endures being the centre of attention for the rest of the afternoon like a good, patient dog. Then he disappears somewhere, done with being the sudden pet of the people. The next time she sees him is in the morning as she descends the stairs.

“Fawn.”

She flinches from the now familiar dark voice. He’s been waiting for her, and almost prowls forth from the shadows when she’s floating down the steps. There’s a good few feet between them, but she can feel the heat emanating from him. Simon is always blazing like the sun, and he's always tired, downright exhausted, encumbered by pain or something worse.

“Do you always forget your promises so quickly?”

She corrects her posture under his tall shadow; she should’ve known there would be consequences for that handkerchief.

"What crime have I committed now?"

Simon never expects it when she fights back. Long, pale lashes cover the brief bafflement in his eyes, then he reaches for something under his tunic. Her heart skips a beat – he has kept it against his skin, right over his heart, instead of under the plate where he tucked it at the joust.

"This belongs to you," he holds it between them like it’s nothing but a piece of dirty cotton he wants to get rid of. Or then he doesn’t want to stain it with his hands – who knows? This man is so full of contradictions she’s having a hard time getting to the bottom of his soul. She has all the time in the world to study different characters here in the castle, but Simon remains a tightly locked mystery.

"No,” she lifts her chin proudly. “It belongs to you."

His nostrils flare for a moment – a sign of anger or exhilaration; you’d need a powerful witch to tell.

“A knight should return the lady’s favour if he survives the joust,” he mutters, clearly trying to make an effort to speak finely to a fine lady.

“You don’t have to. I made it for you.”

He grunts with frustration, then shoves her gift back inside his tunic. Then he tilts his head. A strange, dark little smile rises on his lips.

"Fawn. Did your father ever beat you?"

It’s only morning, but Simon makes it feel like they’re having this conversation in the cold, damp dungeons. Her heart shudders at the foul words, and yet, she fights to maintain eye contact. She fights both tooth and nail to look straight into the abyss.

"No."

"I can tell."

Insolent bastard, is her first thought at such audacity, but two can play this game, is the second. She takes a slow step forward and rejoices silently when Simon struggles to remain still.

"If I was your wife…" she starts softly, "Would you beat me?"

His nostrils flare again as he looks for a trap where there is none. She’s standing before him without any shields, with no weapons, and he still can’t tell, the poor man.

"I don't beat women," he finally spits. Then he succumbs to the impulse to get away from her, although it looks like he’s struggling to do so, too. He has to wrench himself free, and it gives her more power to rise rooted: to meet his crude manners, the arrogance of a dog.

"You'd never be my wife," is the last thing he says, so quietly that it’s nothing but a mutter; a sullen whisper. The birds have fallen silent, or then she can’t hear them anymore. The golden light that pours from the narrow windows makes it suddenly seem like this morning could last an eternity.

"Why not?" She whispers back.

The moment shatters – her knight escapes like he’s the fragile little fawn now. The clatter of his armour makes it known how much of a hurry he’s in to get away from the golden light... And from her.

#not so dark as the first one but still kinda dark #medieval au #knight!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

541 notes · View notes

devvelle · 1 year

Text

Let it Snow

Genre: fluff, drabbles

Characters: Leona, Floyd, Azul, Idia, and Malleus x gn!reader

Scenario: sweet winter moments with them <3

Notes: most of these take place at NRC and reader is implied to be the prefect. no specific holiday mentioned, just winter coziness !

Leona, and cuddling by the fire...

Leona's been spending quite a lot of time with you lately.

You hadn’t thought much of it, seeing as he appeared innocent in intention and didn't give you any reason for suspicion. But something still seems strange about his behavior, with the third year growing ever-clingier as the winter holidays approach.

Given this, you find it a bit odd that Leona makes no appearance as you run errands on the main campus today. As you make your way back to your dorm in the evening, you even question Ruggie via text–but he doesn’t have any idea where his dorm leader is, either. Nerves begin to settle in as you trudge through the snow, wondering where on campus he might be freezing to death.

However, all your questions are answered once you step foot into Ramshackle.

You make it no more than a few steps into the warm living room when a hand grips onto your wrist, pulling you around the couch before you can question what’s going on. Your attempt to shriek is stifled by a large hand, and rather forcefully you’re tugged down onto the lumpy piece of furniture. Dropping all your bags, you collapse inelegantly onto the trespasser; their snicker is one you’d recognize anywhere.

"About time you got back, herbivore."

Your fear turns into overwhelming annoyance almost immediately. Slapping his hand away with a glare doesn’t seem to phase him at all, though. He wraps his arm around you instead, pulling your legs over his lap with an annoying smirk. Albeit reluctantly, you settle into his embrace seeing as he clearly has no plans of setting you free.

Taking off your gloves you huff, “what are you doing here?"

“Heard Crowley had you running around. I wasn’t going to chase after you, so I sent your pet to go hang at some other dorm and waited here.” He punctuates his sentence with a yawn, showing absolutely no remorse for poor Grimm. You roll your eyes.

That’s when you finally take note of the state of your living room.

It’s undoubtedly much cozier than it had been when you left in the morning; wood crackles in the fireplace, a large candle spreads the faint scent of vanilla throughout the room, and several expensive looking blankets are laid out on the arm of the couch. You squeeze the hand he has around you, blinking at him warily.

“You did all of this?”

“About time you noticed.”

Leona doesn’t give you a chance to say anything more, not that you even know what to say. He drapes a blanket over you both and pulls you closer, instructing you to sleep while he he tends to removing your shoes. The wood burns bright and the snow continues to fall as you relax in his embrace.

Winter vacation is imminent, meaning Leona will have to go home and face his family along with the complicated emotions he feels toward them. But your company is a reminder that the world is not entirely against him.

You can’t shame him for wanting to keep you close.

Floyd, and playing in the snow...

When you meet up with Floyd after class, his mood is clearly sour. He wears a deep-set scowl and his uniform is in more disarray than usual, but what most concerns you is his silence.

He always has something to say, no matter what kind of mood he’s in. If he's happy, he'll let you know all about it. If he's mad, he won't let you go until you justify his emotions and whatever actions he took as a result of them. But as he walks you to your next class, your attempts to spark conversation are blatantly ignored. Something that's never happened before.

“Floyd, something wrong?”

“I dunno.”

“Oookay. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yup.”

He pops the ‘p’ and silence settles between you once more.

Shoving your hands into your coat, you run through what else you can say, but Floyd isn’t someone who can be forced to cooperate. There's not a high chance you'll find out what's wrong, so your hands are pretty much tied.

But just as you reach the exterior hallway, you notice the flurries of snow cascading just a few feet away. Afresh layer of snow rests upon the grass, entirely undisturbed. An idea strikes you.

Looking around, you make sure that the two of you are alone in this section of the courtyard and it's all the motivation you need. Quickly, you jog over to the snow-covered ground while Floyd watches you silently, an impatient expression creeping onto his face. Crouching low, you ball up some snow. And your aim, for better or worse, decides to be perfect today.

When you turn and throw it at him, it hits him straight in the face. The snow falls to the ground comically as he stares at you with eyes full of disbelief.

He wants to be upset, really. But the words on the tip of his tongue are held back when he hears your laughter.

And before you can breathe a word of apology, he’s running toward you full-speed.

“No, Floyd. Stop! Wait-” You jump to your feet and try to back away, but it’s too late.

In the blink of an eye he topples you backward into the thick snow, leaving you struggling to breathe underneath his body weight. After a few smacks to his back, he places his arms by your head to hoist himself off of you, giving you a daring look. But his is hair covered in so much snow that you can't help but burst into laughter again.

“What’s so funny?” He questions, knitting his eyebrows together with a pout. But his eyes are bright, and his mouth twitches with the threat of a grin.

You shake some snow from his hair instead of answering, which proves to be a bad choice as it falls directly onto your face instead. He laughs at you and rolls over, laying next to you in the now-disrupted blanket of white. You both turn your heads to look at one another expectantly, Floyd seemingly searching your expression for something while you helplessly smile back. With a huff, he ultimately turns his gaze to the clouds above.

“Ya never just leave people alone. Dontcha ever get tired of tryna fix everyone?”

His voice is quiet, barely audible over the harsh whisper of the wind. He feels around for your hand in the snow, lacing his fingers with yours a bit too tightly once he finds it. Squeezing his hand back, you contemplate how to reply.

Ultimately, you settle with something simple. Something he'll understand.

“Well, you’re boring when you’re sad, Floyd.”

After a moment of stunned silence, he laughs brightly.

It’s carefree and infectious, and you have to take a moment to admire the way joy looks on him. Once you both recover, he sits up to shake snow from his hair, flashing you a maniacal smile and speaking cheerily.

“You have 3 seconds before I get ya, Shrimpy. Start runnin'.”

Azul, and shopping for gifts...

It only takes a half hour of gift shopping for Azul to start acting like he’s being tortured.

He was hesitant to accompany you from the start, but the moment you suggest he do some shopping of his own he seriously considers abandoning you. According to him, gift-giving isn’t one of his areas of expertise. Nor does he desire it to be.

Even so, you drag him from store to store until you find yourselves in the perfect holiday antique shop. As you walk ahead of him through the cluttered aisles, your conversation lands on gift ideas for the twins.

“You should get them something physical,” you stress, explaining yet again that a “holiday bonus” isn’t as thoughtful as he thinks it is. “Money is great, sure, but a thoughtful gift shows you care.”

Judging by the way Azul doesn’t argue this time, he must finally see some sense in your argument. Either that, or he realized he won’t win against you. You pick up a plastic snowman and he grimaces at its poorly painted face.

“I don’t have the slightest idea what they would want. Money is much easier.” A line of porcelain knick knacks manages to catch his eye as he says that, but he realizes the major potential for disaster should one of those be put in the hands of Floyd.

You link your arm with his. "It’s the thought that counts. Just get them something you think they’ll like." For a while, he remains silent.

You lead him through the store, arm in arm, while grabbing a few things for your own friends. Leaving him to contemplate his gifts, you only make the occasional suggestion until a few minutes later, he mumbles something under his breath. You don't quite catch it.

“What was that?” You ask.

He bristles, clearing his throat. Your attempts to catch his eye prove unsuccessful, but he repeats himself.

“What would you like? For the…holidays.”

It's entirely accidental that your laughter escapes you, caught off guard by his uncharacteristic shyness. Immediately you try to stifle it with a cough, but he's already petulantly trying to unlink his arm from yours.

“I didn’t mean to laugh!” You plead lightheartedly, contented when he stops fighting with a sigh. Tightening your hold, you let your head fall to his shoulder in front of a display of snowglobes. “I promise I’ll be happy with anything, even if it’s just a card. Don't worry so much.”

“And if you don’t like what I get you?”

“Try again next year.”

In the reflection of a snow globe, you finally see him crack a smile.

He pinches your arm playfully, successfully slipping out of your grasp when you recoil in surprise. He turns to you, slightly startling you but prompting you to do the same. Wide-eyed you watch as he takes a step forward, crowding you into the corner of the already cramped shop.

“Actually, I think I might know what you’d like,” he leans in close, his gaze flickering to your lips and making your breath hitch. There's no more room for you to back up, and your heart pounds relentlessly as he watches you like a hunter their prey. He cups your cheek, his lips ghosting over your own.

“Would you mind if I gave it to you early?”

Idia, and the first snowfall of the season...

The sound of an incoming call disrupts Idia’s game. He doesn’t bother to check who it is–there’s only one person it could be–yet he still pauses before accepting.

It hasn’t been long since you pushed your way into his circle and started developing a friendship with him. It took him (and Ortho) by surprise, and so speaking with you is still something he finds himself needing lots of mental preparation for. His fingers are unsteady in picking up his phone, causing him to almost miss the button when he finally answers.

“Idia!” Your voice comes through somewhat breathlessly, but your enthusiasm is loud and clear. He can hear you aggressively slamming what seems to be drawers, for whatever reason. “Have you looked outside?”

Your sudden inquiry catches him off guard, seeing as he barely had the courage to answer the phone, let alone questions. His nerves spike as you wait patiently for his answer, so he glances around his room.

Only to cringe when he realizes he doesn’t even have a window to look out of.

“Um, n-no I haven't. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just the weather.” You laugh, slamming another drawer which makes him jolt.

He takes a steadying breath, trying to relax. “Well, the weather in my dorm isn’t the s-same as yours, so...”

“Ugh, that's right.” Your disappointment gives him a dreadful feeling, but you don't give him a chance to dwell on it. “Well, it snowed here last night! I was thinking of making a snowman, do you want to come over?”

Ten minutes later, you’re standing at his door with an extra hat in hand and an excited Ortho hovering at your side.

As the three of you make the journey back to Ramshackle, you and the younger Shroud brother make excited conversation the whole way. Once the snow is in sight you suggest making a snowman to Ortho, and Idia hangs back while you get to work. He takes a moment to better compose himself.

Yet it’s in watching you with his brother that Idia realizes how much of a mess his emotions are. He watches through the condensation of his breath as you show Ortho how to carefully pack snow and place it where it’s needed. His expression softens at all the ways you take care to ensure that the wet snow doesn’t harm his brother's build.

Idia hardly ever notices the cold, but he knows it would feel much more frigid here, and in all of Twisted Wonderland, without you.

Caught in his thoughts, he doesn't notice when you come bounding up to him until his cold hand is in both of your gloved ones. He squeaks, startled by the very object of his anguish. You tug on his arm innocently.

“What are you sulking over here for? Come help us!”

But Idia won’t budge. His gaze flickers behind you, checking that Ortho is distracted, before focusing his attention back on you. He sort of processes you asking if something is wrong while tentatively adjusting the collar of his coat.

Very much so, he thinks.

The flurries of snow landing on your face take up most of his focus. Your eyebrows are raised and your head is tilted at him, and it’s so captivating that he wants to burn this moment into his memory forever, if possible. One of your hands still holds onto his, playing with his fingers patiently.

As he stares at you, he wonders how you’d react if he just…kissed you, maybe. He knows you must have some feelings for him, at least he thinks so, but in his state, it would surely be a disaster regardless. So he shuts the idea down quickly-there's plenty of time to get to that.

He squeezes your hand with an apologetic smile, one you reciprocate ten times brighter.

“S-sorry,” he chokes. “Lead the way?”

He relishes in the warmth of your hand in his.

Malleus, and decorating for the holidays...

Malleus, ever eager to learn more of your customs, happily agrees to help you decorate Ramshackle for the holidays.

He arrives early, as he tends to when he’s excited about something, and beats your alarm clock in waking you up. You open your eyes to him sitting beside you, reading a book and sporting gold tinsel wrapped around his horns. In your half-awake state, the tinsel is much more startling than his presence.

"Um, goodmorning. What's with the uh..." Blinking sleepily, you gesture to his head.

He looks up in confusion, before piecing together what you're referring to.

"Lilia informed me that it would be appropriate. He said you'd appreciate 'festive' attire?"

You laugh warmly as you rub your eyes, ever grateful for Lilia's whims.

Malleus reads patiently as you get dressed in as many layers as possible, and eventually, you make your way downstairs to the lounge.

As you open some boxes of decorations you’d gathered from Sam’s, he takes the opportunity to peak through them as well. He’s fascinated by the strings of lights and paper snowflakes you bring out, excited to be the one helping you. As if his horns weren't shiny enough, he's practically glowing every time you ask him to place something up high, finding joy in being at your service. It would be lying to say you weren't absolutely endeared by his excitement.

When you get to decorating the windows, you don't expect the sight of a thick blanket of snow outside. It hadn't been there last night, and the way it falls from the sky indicates that it won’t be stopping, either. You pause your actions, Malleus joining you in intrigue.

“I didn’t realize it was going to snow today.” You look down thoughtfully before turning to him. The snow seems to be coming in quite heavily, even still. “Do you want to go back to your dorm?”

He blinks at you.

“Would you like me to go?”

Looking surprised by your question, disappointment practically drips from his voice. He seems to take it as you asking him to leave, which you correct frantically.

“No, it’s not that! I just don’t want you to get stuck here."

His face softens, chuckling fondly. Reaching a hand out he smooths the space between your eyebrows until your face lifts into the lighter expression he prefers on you. Taking one end of the garland in your hands, he only momentarily disregards your question to bring it to the mantle above the fireplace.

“I may come and go as I please, as I do believe you are aware. How do you think I arrived?” He questions, gesturing for you to join him. You chastise yourself for not realizing, having forgotten about his magic since you spend most of your time with him walking. “But I wish to spend more time with you, if you’ll allow it.”

After that, your conversation dwindles–largely due to your embarrassment–but the silence is comfortable.

Once all the decorations go up, the two of you find yourselves on the couch. You sit on one end, his head in your lap while you admire the hues of gold and silver all around you. Your fingers brush through the hair on his forehead and trace over his horns, tinsel now gone in favor of decorating the windowsill. You feel a warm sense of home, one you've been missing so much since arriving in this world, and it's a comforting thought as you watch flurries of ice collect on the window pane.

“Thank you for helping me today, Mal. It really means a lot.”

He meets your eyes, smiling warmly.

“Anything for you, my child of man.”

a/n : haiii everyone I hope this gets u guys in the holiday mood! I wanted to explore some cozy prompts with my fave boys since it's the holidays (can u tell I got carried away w Azul n Idia...) hope these r cute

also need to say thank you for all the love and support lately !! i'm not great at replying to comments and such because I still don't entirely know how to use Tumblr, but I appreciate it so so much. you're all so kind and I'm glad I get to share this platform with you all! see u soon, kisses

1K notes · View notes

aesthetic-gamersnail · 6 months

Text

What happened in the first family counseling session of the brothers (it contains a spoiler from Trolls 3 since it is based on the movie, so be warned)

Edit: Originates from the meme I made to this topic. Enjoy :)

Therapist: So, at the beginning I always like to begin with the question: why are you here?

The brothers are sitting on a couch in a nicely dimmed room which has green paint on the walls. The therapist sits across them in his armchair, between him and them a coffee table with a vase of fresh flowers, a cup full of pencils, a neat stack of papers and - what immediately catches Clay's eyes - a burning scented candle. (The order in which the brothers sit on the couch from left to right: Branch, Clay, Spruce, Floyd, John)

All: ...

John: Honestly, I think there is no reason for why we are here.

Bruce: And I think, that you are probably one of the main reasons why we are here. And you probably need it the most.

John: I'm sorry, but I think the real reason we are here is because our little brother's lady forced him to do it.

Branch: WHAT? *he whipped his head around* She didn't force me to do it, she recommended it to me and I took her advice because you know what? I actually CARE about our family and I think we could do a lot better.

John: Do you want to say that I don't care about this family?

Floyd: Guys, guys, please, calm down.

Branch: Geez, John, I don't know, did not really get the vibes when you said we would go our separate ways after we saved Floyd.

John: Are you still bent down on this? Look, I'm sorry that I said that but things are different now, right? We are together now, so why are still hung up on the past?

Branch: Just because something is in the past doesn't mean it doesn't have any effect on me anymore. And besides, it has been, what, two weeks ago? I wouldn't call it the past yet.

John: Potato, tomato. See, this is your problem: you take things way out of proportions and let your emotions control you.

Bruce: Well, at least he shows his emotions and talks about them, in contrast to someone else.

John: Excuse me?

Bruce: You heard me.

Clay, interrupting their talk since he also was not listening to them, asks the therapist: Is the candle not a fire hazard? Is this even allowed in such an establishment?

Floyd: Guys, please, calm down. We haven't even properly started and we are already fighting with each other. Let's all breathe for just a moment and then resume to talk.

...Silence for a few moments ...

Therapist:....So I see, there is a lot of pent up aggression going on he-

John: NOPE, no! You know what? It has been fun and all but I honestly don't want to be here anymore. So, I'll be taking my leave.

Floyd: John, plea-

John: Floyd, I'm sorry, but I really can't do it. I already know how this whole thing is going to go, therefore, why should I even stick around?

Bruce: Wait, what do you mean by tha-

Branch: Oh, because you know everything, don't you?

John slowly getting irritated with this situation, suddenly stands up and says: Listen he- *THUMP* *CRASH*

But he is interrupted by the sound of the coffee table falling to the ground. He stood up too fast and took the coffee table in his momentum with him, which made it rock back and forth, till it finally hit the ground facing the brothers. But with the coffee table, also the vase and the scented candle came to the ground. The vase bursts into many splinters which fly into the air in various directions. One splinter shoots into John's foot.

At the sight of the first drop of blood coming from his foot, John says: Oh my god, hahaha, look at that..

And passes out.

Floyd: OH MY GOD, JOHN, ARE YOU OK?

Bruce: Ohhhhhh, I remember now. He was always afraid of blood, ever since he was a kid. Did not think, it still bothered him.

Floyd: Didn't he live in the wilderness for 20 years? How did he survive?

Branch: oh my god, OH MY GOD!

Branch rolled off screaming from the couch.

While Bruce and Floyd were busy with John, the scented candle rolled it's way to the couch and ignited it.

Clay: AHA, I KNEW IT. *Clay laughs* I knew it would be a fire hazard. You have some explaining to do, mister. *he pointed his finger at the therapist, smiling*

His smile drops.

Clay:...Oh shit.

Branch: HOW DO WE PUT OUT THE FIRE? WHAT IS EVEN HERE TO PUT OUT A FIRE? *running around frantic, looking for something that would help against the fire*

Floyd: Ok, so we have an unconscious body and a fire going on. Just, d-don't FREAK out, Bruce, and stay calm!

Bruce:...I am calm.

Floyd: I SAID STAY CALM!

Clay:...Is not the first step to dealing with building fires 'Inform people in the immediate area to evacuate'? Well, *turns to the therapist* I think you should be the one to leave and warn people, AND also call 911, as we have a *stares at the unconscious John, the anxious Floyd, the confused Bruce and the frantic Branch running around* situation going on.

The therapist, staring at this whole situation in horror:...I honestly don't get paid enough for this. *flees the scene*

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls #trolls branch #trolls john #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #brozone

225 notes · View notes

lovedazai · 1 year

Text

the thought of spending the holidays with you is the only thing pushing akaashi through his burnout, daydreams of you and him bundled up together keeping him warm on the train ride home.

he’s never been happier to see his apartment building, even if work still manages to wedge itself into his thoughts. the new pages in his bag are heavy, an all too soon deadline in the back of his mind, but when he unlocks the front door, he could melt in relief. as he unlaces his shoes, he’s greeted by your sweet “welcome home, keiji!” and the warm scent of vanilla from your burning winter candles. the last thing he wants is for something awful to happen, like having to take you to the emergency room for breaking a bone.

which is exactly how he pictures his evening going when he walks into the living room to see you, balancing on a chair, hanging ornaments on the christmas tree.

“do you need help with that, love?” he anxiously plays with his fingers as he gets closer. he notices the fuzzy socks you have on; they’re adorable, but he can’t help but think of how slippery they are, no traction to help keep you steady on the smooth seat of the chair you’re tiptoed on.

“that’s okay,” you turn to smile at him, and as pretty as you are looking at him like that, he wishes you would just pay attention to what you’re doing. “you should go relax. i’ve been at this for a while, and i haven’t fallen yet!”

as if that was supposed to make him feel better. his chest feels tight thinking of everything that could’ve gone wrong while you were home alone doing something like this.

he watches with furrowed brows as your foot gets closer to the edge of the chair the harder you stretch, trying to reach the branch. it starts to tip, and he doesn’t even realize he’s moving, suddenly next to you with one hand on the chair, the other resting against your back. “y/nーplease get down. just let me do it before you manage to kill yourself. or me, for that matter.”

“but when i’m up here, i can do this,” you press your lips to his forehead. his cheeks grow warm, and he hopes it doesn’t deter his unimpressed look. it’s already pretty weak; he doesn’t have it in himself to ever truly be disappointed in you. “fine,” you pout. “i’ll get down.”

you sit down on the chair to watch him, feet swinging lazily from where they don’t quite reach the floor. he takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead in return, lips lingering for a moment. he’s only a little prideful when he can hang up the ornament with just a little reach of his arm. “is here okay?”

“mhm, perfect.” he looks down to see your eyes focused on the strip of his toned stomach visible from his shirt rising up, and places the hook gently on the branch, using his other hand to pinch your cheek.

“what’s next, love? it looks like you were nearly finished.”

you grab the topper, lips pouty. “just this, but…” you look up to the top of the tree. “i really want to do this part.”

he couldn’t possibly insist that he does it, not after you worked so hard, putting your own safety on the line to decorate the tree. he lifts you by your waist so you can stand back up on the chair, hold lingering to catch you, just in case.

you place the topper snugly, and he offers his hand to you as you hop back down to the ground. you’re dusted with glitter and there’s a pine needle caught in your bangs, but you’re still as cute as ever in your big sweater and fluffy socks, smiling up at him. he brushes the stray piece out from your hair, cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours. “did you do anything else dangerous today?” he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. “like try to bake?”

you huff, pulling his hands away to go plug in the tree lights as he laughs, falling back against the soft cushions of the couch. “the fire was contained to the oven, it wasn’t even a big deal,” his smile falls off his face immediately, sitting up to look at you with big, panicked eyes. “i’m just kidding, keiji. nothing happened, i promise.”

he sighs, taking off his glasses and dropping his head to your shoulder as soon as you sit next to him. “you’re so funny today,” he says dryly, sneaking his hands under your sweater to rest against your back, melting when you rub his tense shoulders. “i missed you. all i could think about was coming back home to you.”

“i’m here now.” you mumble into the crown of his head, pressing a kiss to his hair as he snuggles into your neck. your nails scratch at the nape of his neck, and he greedily arches into your touch.

the smell of vanilla and pine in the air and the soft glow of christmas lights fill him with comfort, but not as much as your warm body next to him does. even if it had gone differently, your couch swapped for the uncomfortable waiting room chairs of the emergency room, it might’ve been okay. just as long as he still got to spend the evening with you.

HQ MASTERLIST

#akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #akaashi x you #akaashk fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖

559 notes · View notes

edith-hyde · 3 months

Note

Hey, I don't know if you still up for it ot whether you have some rules about requests, but I've seen your post about doing Peter Hale x reader and others. And I'd really like to see your general dating headcanons with Peter Hale or Chris Argent💛

I've got so many ideas for a Peter Hale series! I hope to start posting it eventually. I will gladly do a dating headcanons for him. And I'll throw in Chris too. Everything here will be safe for work, of course. Enjoy!

Dating Peter Hale

He was so scared to tell you the truth about what he was, but when you found out, you didn't care.

He loves showing off his money. Expect expensive gifts.

But he's not a fan of huge crowds, so no big fancy dinners. He much prefers to eat in private with just the two of you. Or maybe at some small place.

Does NOT like candle lit dinners. Nor a yule log at Christmas. Or grilling out.

You and he learn how to cook together because he's so used to just buying all his meals. There's a lot of burned chicken, but also a lot of joy and laughter and making out in the kitchen. (That's why it burned.)

He's very touch starved. When you first start dating, he flinches every time you touch him. It takes some time, but eventually he can't keep himself from reaching for your hand or laying on your shoulder. He's heavy but you're fine with it.

He wants to make all the plans so you don't have to worry about anything. Just trust him to know what's best.

If you have family, they probably aren't too fond of him. He brings expensive wine to get-togethers though, so that might put him in their good graces if they like that kind of thing. If not, he'll depend on his usual charms. It might take awhile, but they'd eventually accept that he's here to stay.

Expect calls in the middle of the night. Or he might just show up. He doesn't sleep well and he needs comfort from the nightmares. If he hasn't slept the night before, he will curl up in your lap on your sofa and sleep. Stroking his hair really helps. When he's truly comfortable with you, he's prone to just falling asleep just so long as you're somewhere nearby. He especially likes to nap while you're driving.

Loves to just walk with you in the woods.

He's surprisingly knowledgeable about furniture and helps you decorate your house or apartment.

He wants everyone to know that you belong to him. He purposefully nuzzles into your hair to leave his scent on you. He loves giving you his jacket too. All the werewolves in town know you're taken.

Despite his bravado, he's constantly worried that you're going to leave him. He needs regular assurances that you love him.

He gets jealous easily. Your guy friends might wanna watch out. And you might have to have a long talk with Peter and get it through his head that they're not a threat to your relationship. Once he's 100% sure, this calms down. But he still doesn't like men fliting with you.

You help him rebuild his relationship with Malia and he loves you even more for it. The three of you sometimes get together and do dinner. You're there to console her when she and Scott break up and you have to keep Peter from going to LA and trying to kill Scott for a third time.

He constantly brags about having you to Derek and anyone else who will listen.

He will listen to you rant about work and the people that bother you. Then he'll offer to take them out. You assume he's joking, but sometimes, if they really upset you, he totally means it.

He will show up at your work and pester you. It's distracting, but you love seeing him.

His name for you in his phone is "My Queen".

He gives great skin care advice and has a wonderful sense of fashion. Also knows all the best hair care products. He loves to take you shopping for new stuff and buys everything. He gets broody if you won't let him shower you in gifts.

Sometimes when he's emotional, his eyes will turn blue and he will turn away because he's worried about scaring you. When you kiss him despite his fangs, he knows you truly don't care. You're even kinda into it much to his amusement.

If he upsets you, expect a huge vase of flowers. If you're not a flowers person, he gets chocolates or some kind of jewelry. He knows he can't buy your affections, but that isn't going to stop him from trying. He will eventually give a proper apology, but he hates admitting that he was wrong. Consider yourself lucky if he does.

Dating Chris Argent

He's the sweetest thing on the planet. His tired blue eyes and sad smile make you melt every time.

He lights up every time he sees you.

He lets you pick where you go to dinner, though he usually surprises you with a home made meal. This man can cook and you love it.

Brings you coffee or hot chocolate almost every morning.

Mows your grass and fixes your car for you without being asked.

You like to watch him clean his guns after a mission.

Sometimes comes home with some pretty gnarly wounds. You always clean him up and make him promise it won't happen again. But it keeps happening anyways. He hates to make you worry, but he has a job to do.

Early in your relationship, he constantly tries to run. He's afraid that if you love him, you'll die like everyone else has. It takes you awhile, but you eventually manage to convince him that you're not going anywhere.

Date night is just diner and a movie on his couch. He's not a fan of hanging out in public. But he will go to the park with you on sunny days. If you have an interest in guns, he'll take you to a shooting range.

He likes to just dance with you around the kitchen when he's in a really good mood.

He takes you on trips to France after you've been together for awhile, and shows you all the best places away from the crowds.

If you have any family, they are wary of him at first, but then they love him. He's so respectful. Your mom wants you to marry him tomorrow.

He has some trouble sleeping and can often be found sitting on his back porch, having a beer at night. If you show up, he finds it easier to get some rest.

He will always do his best to keep you safe. He might even train you how to fight if you ask.

If he does train you, you like to distract him while sparring by kissing him. It works every time.

He often has Scott and his friends over for dinner. You love having so many fun people around.

In a perfect world, Isaac comes and visits often and once accidentally calls you mom. Chris thinks it's hilariously adorable.

If he upsets you, he gives a sincere apology. You can't stay mad at those sad blue eyes no matter how hard you try.

#answer #question #ask #headcanon #teen wolf #peter hale #chris argent #anon #peter hale x reader #chris argent x reader

51 notes · View notes

saruman-the-silly · 6 months

Note

Alrighty, so I'd like to request some comfort hcs w the papas (or just Copia if you're not feeling like doing all of them !!) also it gets quite personal, so slight content warning for burn out and imposter syndrome

I've been really stressed out lately, as I'm pursuing very demanding studies (preparatory class yay) and they're starting to take a toll on my physical and mental health. And to top it off, I find myself unable to get anything done bc of failure anxiety, which leaves me very tired with intense imposter syndrome :') How would the papas comfort a gn or fem s/o in a similar situation?

Take the time you need, and have a good day/night !! <3

aw hey I'm sorry to hear that!! but I know you're gonna get through this, and hopefully these headcanons might help a little :) this took a little longer than I liked, but I hope you like it and hope this will bring some comfort for you <333 sending much love and encouragement!!

-------------

How Papas would comfort their s/o during their studies

Primo:

A sweetheart, as I have mentioned in previous headcanons, he would be knocking on your door with a cup of warm tea.

Primo sees the dark circles under your eyes, sighs, and wraps you in a warm hug which you just melt in.

"Amore, how I wish you could just relax for a moment, this stress is not good for you."

You mumbled something about being a failure and Primo lifted your head gently with his hand, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Never talk about yourself that way amore. You are already working so hard towards your goals and dreams, you could never be a failure. Not to me."

Primo would then absolutely spend the rest of the evening making sure you were relaxing, even for a little while. He would read to you if it helped you calm down, he would light up some scented candles and give you a massage for your sore shoulders.

You, being so tired and stressed out, would soon fall into a deep sleep in Primo's arms, for once feeling safe and secure.

Secondo:

Secondo sees your distress but does not know how to address it. With you stubbornly insisting that you're fine, he doesn't want to cross any boundaries.

Instead, he starts leaving little notes and tiny gifts for you, like a cup of coffee beside your bed when you wake up. The coffee was made precisely to your taste, and it was sinfully good.

Even with these tiny gestures, Secondo can still see the way you carry yourself is less and less confident every day. So, he decides to address the elephant in the room.

He sits you down one day, asking about your studies and how are you doing. You insist once again that, you're fine, there's nothing to worry abo- Secondo takes your hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze, looking at you with understanding in his eyes and you break down.

You spill everything out, and he just listens. He doesn't comment, he doesn't offer advice, he just sits there, holds you hands soothingly and listens. After you're done venting, Secondo presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and tells you: "Amore. You are the most intelligent person I have ever gotten the pleasure to know, but even I know that you need rest now."

You try to protest, he doesn't care lmao. Secondo makes you your favourite meal (You hadn't even realised how hungry you were) and you watch some trashy soap operas together for the rest of the evening.

Terzo:

Terzo notices right away and tries to gently ask you what's wrong.

Remember, he loves you. So much. But he does not know how too approach this subject so he will keep pestering you about it and you argue, insisting you're fine.

It turns into a full on argument, since both of you are too stubborn to accept defeat, until he accidentally hits a sore spot and you just snap. Everything spills out and you just start sobbing on the floor.

Terzo hates himself right now. He's beating himself up mentally so bad for hurting you when you're clearly in distress, and he gets down on the floor beside you, hugging you and comforting you.

After you have calmed down, Terzo apologizes profusely, you shush him and tell him it's fine but he insists.

"Amore. Amore mio. I am not good with this but let me lend you my ears and my full attention. If I can help in any way, I am here for you." So, you just sit there talking for the next 2 hours. Terzo rubs your back comfortingly and whispers words of encouragement when finding words seems to be hard.

Remember, he loves you so much. Terzo's not a serious guy, he isn't good at this, but for you? He's willing to do anything.

Copia:

Copia doesn't notice until someone points it out. Lol. Poor man is just so overwhelmed with his own work, as usual´.

When he does notice, Copia abandons all of his work. Immediately. You and your well-being are his top priority.

He will gently approach you one day, seeing you drowning in your studies.

"Amore, please, take a break and come drink some tea with me." You smile at him, eyes tired but shake your head. "Thank you darling but I have to finis-" Copia wraps you in a warm hug from behind, putting his head on your shoulder.

"Please?" He whispers into your ear, making you shiver. You smile and sigh, while poking his side. "Fine, just for a few minutes." Little do you know, it was more than a few minutes.

Copia is excellent at distracting you from your studies. He lets you play with his rats, showing you all the tricks they know and letting you teach them some. You laugh and smile until your cheeks start to hurt, and Copia feels his heart getting lighter with your smile.

When it's later in the evening and you're laying in his arms, he gently asks about your studies. Feeling more open and relaxed, you open up about your stress, and like his brothers, Copia is an excellent listener. He listens, and is there for you.

After you have opened up, he kisses your forehead gently before wrapping you in a tight embrace. "Thank you for telling me this, I promise to help you in any way I can."

------------------------------------------------------

Here it iiiiiiiiiiiiiis finally :DD I really hope these will bring some comfort during tough times, and hope you enjoy <3

64 notes · View notes

roseblog-rog · 3 months

Text

Hello Rose Blog Enjoyers! i haven’t been posting lately because. the horrors. However, I did promise more, so here’s a very self indulgent smut work i finished a little while ago (under the read more line).

(TW for blood, wounds, and knives)

“You’ve Got A Lot of Blood.”

The comment catches me off guard, as nobody has said anything even remotely as deranged as that to me. Okay…that might be an exaggeration, but to be fair I was on my way back from the bathroom to continue sunbathing, and I’d rather not have my beach day interrupted any longer.

I turn to find a woman I’ve never seen before smirking behind me. She’s pretty, with long black hair and red lips. She’s close to my height, wearing dark sunglasses, a large sun hat, and a flowy black robe perfect for the summer weather. She’s even carrying an umbrella (to each their own I guess). Her skin is fairly pale despite the beaming sun.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was a vampire. But I do know better, because vampires aren’t real. Probably.

Besides, why would a vampire be at the beach?

Exasperated, still grumpy about having to get out of my relaxing position to use the bathroom, I snap at her, even though I barely even know her. “What the fuck does that even mean?” I regret it immediately, but hold my ground against this random stranger commenting on my bodily fluids.

“Woah, you’ve got a mouth.” She moves closer to my face and grins devilishly. “I like that.” I can feel her breath, but there’s no real scent to it.

I can very faintly see her dark eyes through the sunglasses, though I can’t tell exactly what color they are. I swear I also see fangs in her mouth, two unnaturally pointy teeth sticking out, but it must be a trick of the light. It has to be.

“Who even are you?” I startle back, the prolonged closeness lasting far too long for my liking. I’m clearly in for a long conversation. Dammit.

“Your worst nightmare.” She grins again, striking some pose out of some shitty porno. To be fair, I wouldn’t really know, but I’m probably right. It’s pretty clear now this is a hookup of some kind. I’m flattered, but I also don’t really…do…hookups. Not my thing, I’d rather get to know someone for a while first. I make this clear.

“While I appreciate the flattery, I’m not really looking for a hookup. Apologies.” Her face falls to a frown, and looking a bit closer I can see traces of desperation. She gets close again, but this time her mood has completely shifted. She’s afraid, voice falling to a whisper.

“Okay look, I’m really hungry and I apologize for thinking you wanted a hookup. You’re cute, so I assumed you do this kind of thing all the time.” I blush at the compliment. “I just…I don’t want to just take people’s blood without asking and I know vampires are sexualized a lot so I guess I just…I don’t know.”

Oh.

She goes quiet.

Earth shattering realizations aside, she needs help. She is clearly not doing well, hunger and some now noticeable burns taking their toll. If I have to lose some blood, fine, as long as there are no needles. Plus I still have some snacks left in my bag.

I sigh, beach relaxation already long gone.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?”

I understand why she was at the beach of all places now. She lives nearby, a quaint little beach house down the shoreline. Inside, the lights are off, and the curtains are drawn shut.

“I was also turned very recently, and I’m still getting used to everything. That’s why my methods thus far have been, well, unconventional.” She laughs sadly.

I’m helping her apply burn cream in the places she can’t reach, the only light coming from the soft glow of candles scattered around the house. We talk about our lives while softly rubbing the rough patches of her skin. It’s…well, it’s nice.

When we finish, I ask the big question. “So…are you going to bite my neck? I’m not really sure how this actually works.”

She hesitates. “I think so? To be honest, I’m still unsure myself.“ She looks…guilty. “I haven’t actually, uh, had any blood yet? But I know I need it cause regular food wouldn’t go down and I…” She stops, clearly nervous.

“You what?” I ask, cautious.

“I can smell it.” She mutters, eyeing my skin with a sort of contained insanity.

Okay. Not how I expected my day to go, but that’s what life is all about I suppose. “How about we figure it out together? Maybe build up to biting?” I am pointedly ignoring the slight warmth that fills my body when I mention being bit.

“Oh! Yeah, that would work. Uhm, I can make small little cuts with a kitchen knife to build myself up to eating blood. They won’t scar, don’t worry. Besides, it could also build you up to the pain that biting will probably cause.” I blush fiercely, but nod. Thank gods the lighting is dim.

She smiles.

“Well then, let’s get this over with.”

I’m sitting on her kitchen tile while she finds a knife. I took my shirt off but still have my bra and shorts, not really wanting to show a stranger any more skin than I had to.

With the chaos at the beach and applying burn cream, I never actually stopped to really look at her. She genuinely is pretty, with two fangs now very clearly shimmering as she pulls a knife out of a caninet, red eyes glowing and twitching as she looks at my more exposed skin.

She sits down in front of me, candles still glowing all around us. The knife looks sharp, new. Dangerous.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks, glancing down warily. Her hands are ever so slightly shaking.

And that’s the question, isn’t it? Do I trust her enough to run a blade across my skin? To feed herself with my blood like her life depended on it (which it does)? To sink her fangs into my neck? To lose herself as she drinks from me? I shudder.

“Yes. I trust you.” Let’s hope I don’t regret it.

She nods and gets closer to me. I can feel her breath on my body again, warm air pressing gently against my chest as she raises the knife up to touch me. I can see it in her face: she cares. She’s trying to be as careful as possible, afraid of hurting me any more than she has to. My heart stutters ever so slightly.

The blade is now touching my skin, gliding like a feather all over. It’s cold, and I occasionally get the chills. She hasn’t made any cuts yet, hasn’t pressed down even slightly to draw blood, but from the fire in her eyes I can tell she wants to.

And then a sharp pain hits me above my left breast. I flinch, a small whimper falling from my lips.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes flick back and forth between the cut and my face. She licks her lips, but still holds back. I can feel a few drops of blood slowly sliding down to stain my bra. It feels warm. Fuck, it actually feels…good. The adrenaline is already pumping, and I look down to see the red liquid continuing to drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip. It’s beautiful.

“I want more.” The words surprise us both as they leave my mouth, and I almost go to backtrack and apologize before she smirks. She brings her face close to mine, her lips just barely touching my ear.

“So do I.” She whispers, and from the sensation of it alone I whimper again. She’s already lost it, I’m thinking to myself, as she quickly bends forward to lick up every last drop of my life force with no hesitation. My skin gets wetter and more sensitive from her tongue’s movements, and I bite my lip to hold back a moan.

I think I’m losing it too.

Once satisfied with the first cut, she quickly brings the knife back up to my skin to glide across it more. This time she doesn’t wait, very quickly making a new cut above the right breast this time. She starts licking the new wound, far more eagerly than the first time. This time I can’t contain myself and start to moan softly. I can feel my underwear getting wet already. Fuck.

This continues for what feels like hours. Cut after cut, lick after lick. It doesn’t hurt enough to cause serious detriment or extreme blood loss, but each time the blade presses deeper I still feel that sharp pain, that adrenaline. It��s addicting. I’ve quickly become a shaking whimpery mess, and my desperation for more only makes her increasingly eager to drink. To feed. My body is completely smeared red, the blood also coating her face. Her lips. I can smell the iron now, that intoxicating metallic smell only making me wetter. I never want this to end. I want her to keep draining me of my life force, to keep using me as nothing more than a glorified blood bag. I need her to drink me until there’s nothing left.

However, to my disappointment, she moves the blade off of my skin, lifting it up to a few inches from my face. It’s covered in red at this point, with a few drops still gliding down the blade. Behind it I see her, also drenched. She licks her lips to catch a stray drop of red. Hot.

“I was just gonna lick it off the blade…but I have a better idea.” She rubs all the blood from the knife onto the lower half of my face, and I shake even harder. Once the blade is cleaned off, my face now painted to her liking, she places it off to the side. I can feel every drop of my essence slowly falling from my face down to my neck.

She then gets closer, bringing her lips close to mine. I lean in, but she places a finger against my mouth. I can taste the iron. “Look at you, so desperate for more. It’s adorably pathetic.” My body continues to shake. “You’re more into this than I am! You sure you aren’t a vampire? Or are you really just a canvas, eager to be drenched and painted to my liking?” She smirks, then, pushing her finger into my mouth. I instinctively start to suck on it, the taste of my life force already filling me. She chuckles. “That’s what I thought.”

As I continue to suck, she starts to lick my face. She starts at the cheeks, but slowly and subtly moves down further and further. The jaw. The chin. By the time I realize she’s licking a spot on my neck with extra time and care, she’s already going for a bite.

The feeling of fangs penetrating my skin is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. I inhale sharply, bracing. But then it hits me. The feeling of her fangs inside my skin, drinking. I feel my blood pumping, feel it being sucked out of me. The pain is absolutely euphoric, and I can already feel my warm essence dripping down my neck. I moan wildly. I hear her moan as well, whether from pleasure or a satiated hunger. Maybe both.

I keep squirming from sheer pleasure alone, even as she pulls her fangs out to start licking the two marks in my neck. It’s all so warm. I can’t stop the whimpers and moans from leaving my mouth, so much so that she starts subtly grinding her knee against my crotch as she feeds. She’s absolutely drenched in my life force, painted red just like me.

We are both bloody and beautiful, and everything feels wonderful.

Eventually, though, she falls back and lies down, sighing in relief. I look at her, the candlelight illuminating her frame. She’s breathing deeply, coated in red with a soft smile on her face. She’s really pretty. Everything feels so warm and fuzzy and…blurry. I realize now that I was getting so lost in the pleasure of it all I didn’t realize that I lost a lot of blood. A lot of it.

“B..bag.” I’m swaying now, an absolutely goofy grin on my face from how wonderful everything was. I feel close to fainting. She looks at me, confused, and I see in her face exactly when she realizes what’s happening. She mutters a curse and goes to grab my bag.

There’s blood all over me, completely staining my bra and shorts. The floor surrounding me is also covered, and I run a finger across it to get another taste of iron. I can feel my skin start to harden, my life force starting to dry up. I still feel so much pleasure I can hardly think straight...or maybe that’s the blood loss.

She runs back in with my bag and fishes out a nutrient bar for me to eat. I take slow bites, my breathing starting to level. When I finish, I collapse into her arms and mutter a “thank you.”

“Wha—thank you, ya dork! I’m the one that needed this.” She chuckles fondly and I smile. I feel myself drifting into sleep, and the last thing I feel are her fingers running through my hair.

#(ro)s(e)mut #nsft #blood #tw blood #wounds #tw wounds #knives #tw knives #vampire #i am actually the most normal ever

24 notes · View notes

iskratempestmadness · 4 months

Text

Characters "Baki the Grappler" and winter evenings with you

Part 2

Katsumi:

- he has no special preferences, the most important thing is that you are happy with him

- but he's addicted to board games. On nights like this, he still wants to be at home. (It seems that this cute active boy wants to settle down more and more, he began to appreciate the homely atmosphere.)

- he will also arrange a movie marathon for you and cook cookies for you himself (DO NOT LET HIM NEAR THE STOVE, HE WILL BURN DOWN THE HOUSE)

- but he will also react positively to the fact that you want to spend this time outside

- he is not bad at skating, there is some clumsiness, but it is not essential.

- Snowballs? Of course, the most important thing is not to provoke him too much, it can turn into a war and you will come home completely wet (but happy)

- another great photographer. Perhaps in order to do the perfect photo shoot, he will take you somewhere out of town

- ooooh and he will not miss this opportunity, he has long wanted to ski with you, but in any case you will find yourself in the snow again

- to warm up, Katsumi will prefer to take a warm bath with you. A lot of foam and the smell of scented candles is what you need.

Jack:

- Uh...He will train 😑

- Yes, on the street

- he won't mind at all if you join him. He likes to run with you in the park, regardless of the time of year. However, if you just watch him, he won't mind either. But he trains for so long that you will have time to turn into an icicle one hundred percent.And Jack will definitely take care of you later. A hot tub, a blanket and a fireplace are all as expected.

- if not, he will definitely buy you some sweets when he comes home. In general, he even likes this option more. He comes home from training and you're waiting for him, I think it's a new feeling for him.

- he also likes it when you cook cookies and you eat them while watching a movie.

- if you still manage to get him out somewhere other than training, then go bowling, but please let him know that this is NOT a WORKOUT and NOT a COMPETITION, otherwise you will not get him out of there until he beats you in the dry

- the same story with snowballs. You'll be all wet, he'll be merciless to you.

- ooooh, don't try to go with him to the rink, he doesn't know how to skate at all. And if it falls on you during training, you obviously will not find it enough.

- (imagine Jack with a penguin-shaped skating support over which he had to bend over)

#baki son of ogre #baki the grappler #baki #baki the grappler headcanons #baki headcanons #katsumi orochi #baki katsumi #chracter x reader #katsumi #orochi katsumi x reader #katsumi x reader #jack hanma x reader #baki jack #jack x reader #jack hanma #jack

41 notes · View notes

deadbydangit · 8 months

Text

A Spa Day with them

Cannibal, Trickster, Spirit

Cannibal

Spa day?

What's that?

He has no idea what a spa is.

Explain it in the simplest of terms and call it a 'self care' day.

Go into a little more detail on what you mean, then he'll start to understand.

Bubba will try and paint your nails, but he's kind of shaky, so some might end up on your skin.

He'll quickly try to rub it off, only to smear it more.

He'll be blubbering apologies.

Don't let him get too worked up about it.

He'll really enjoy doing different face masks.

Especially any that require someone to slather it on.

So he puts it on your face while you put it on his.

Bubba is super ticklish, so he'll probably be a little squirmy and giggly.

He won't actually take his mask off, but the effects should still work on skin that belonged to another human, right?

Probably doesn't work like that, but he's having fun.

Aromatherapy is also something new to him.

He isn't super fond of fruity sweet smells, but he enjoys more earthy scents.

It reminds him of home.

He often gets so relaxed, that he falls asleep on your lap.

He never gets these peaceful moments.

Feeling pretty and snuggling with you.

What more could he want?

Trickster

Spa day?

Um, yes please.

You don't even have to get anything.

Ji-Woon has a huge box full of high-quality products that he uses.

He is going to elevate you to a whole new experience.

"This is what they do at the spas I go to."

He'll say as he hands you a fancy drink and starts to paint your nails.

Although he usually got his nails done by other people, he prefers doing it himself.

And it won't just be a solid color.

You will get the most breathtaking patterns that could ever be done.

You can offer to paint his nails, but he really enjoys doing his own.

But he'll let you do his right hand since he has a harder time with that one.

After, he's picking out face masks and body scrubs, describing in great detail what each of them do.

He will even show you how to apply them.

And you better believe this man has a huge array of candles.

Any scent you can think of, he has it.

He isn't picky either. He'll like whatever one you choose.

While letting the masks and scrubs sit, he'll indulge you in gossip.

"Yun-Jin is so scared of bugs. Like, one time she took one of my knives just to kill this little beetle. And she crushed it. She can be so over dramatic."

It's days like this that make living in the realm so much more bearable.

Especially since he got to do it with you.

Spirit

Oh she's totally down for that!

Trials can be so stressful, this sounds like a great way to unwind.

First, she'll bring out all her incense.

Pick any one you'd like.

Personally, Rin loves any flowery scents.

Once those get burning, she'll get some of her nail polish.

She only has a few colors, but you two make it work.

It's also super easy to paint her nails.

Since her arms are kind of detached and all.

Cooler colors like purples and blues are her favorite.

She's surprisingly good at painting your nails.

She has very steady hands, probably from all those years of practicing kendo.

Her masks are the home-made type.

All natural, no chemicals.

Those are so much better more you.

And making the masks with you just makes it way more special

She'll always find ways to add fruits to any scrubs or masks she makes.

So, when you're both done, you'll smell amazing.

Lots of giggles and jokes.

This had to have been the most relaxed she had been in years.

She'll be begging for this to turn into a regular thing.

But she'll only do it if you do it with her.

#dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd trickster #dbd spirit #dbd bubba

53 notes · View notes

pinkcherrybombs · 2 years

Text

♡BTS In Different TikTok Trends♡

A/n; It’s been awhile, so I figured the perfect way to get back into writing is with another ✨TikTok trends BTS edition✨ since these are pretty short, here’s a mini compilation of a few!! I hope y’all enjoy💕☺️and there will definitely be more posts coming soon!!

Tw: Mentions of death!

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

♡ Who Each BTS Member Was Written By?♡

Namjoon -

“Two young children who never had the chance to meet their father before his death, but like to imagine what he was like, and the things he’d do with them”

Jin -

“An old woman who reminisces about the memories she shared with her first love, though the romance only lasted the summer, she’ll still catches glimpses of him whenever she’s happy”

Yoongi -

“A struggling teen who looks towards music and dreaming of the future for comfort, while trying to just get through the day”

Hobi -

“ A young boy that doesn’t understand why he gets bullied all the time, but wishes he had an older brother to help him feel better”

Jimin -

“ A young woman who’s only ever experienced unrequited love, but still spends her days reading fairytales and imagining her perfect romance”

Taehyung -

“ A young artist learning to look at the world through a new perspective in an attempt fall love life again”

Jungkook -

“A child that wants to learn how to do everything, and be friends with everyone, but is still building the confidence to do try“

━━━��━━━━━━

♡ BTS as your partner in squid games (final words) ♡

Namjoon -

“I’m gonna need you to stay strong for me, even if I’m not here to remind you”

Jin -

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright I promise, when have I ever lied to you?

Yoongi -

“Don’t cry, I’m just happy I was able to help you win”

Hobi -

“I can’t protect you anymore, I’m so sorry”

Jimin -

“I’m scared”

Taehyung -

“Please always remember me, don’t forget me promise you won’t”

Jungkook-

“C-can you hug me, just one last time”

━━━━━━━━━━

♡ BTS as different scents♡

Namjoon -

Lavender, fresh linen , morning dew

Jin -

Ocean air, apples , sweet candy

Yoongi -

Eucalyptus burning candles, whiskey, tangerines

Hobi -

Chocolate cookies baking in the oven, vanilla , honey combs

Jimin -

Expensive cologne, bourbon , mint

Taehyung -

Coffee, used parchment paper, smoke coming from a fresh fire

Jungkook -

Cedar wood, salted butterscotch, raspberry

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Permanent taglist: @urvirtualgfteehee @99liners @sor-vette (open)

Also tagging: @themochiverse @introrecs 💕

237 notes · View notes

disasterofastory · 1 year

Text

The pretty little actress of Rogers - Part 3 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

The pretty little actress of Rogers Part 3 - Call // The pretty little actress of Rogers Masterlist Steve Rogers x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: none

Summary: You call Steve.

You sit on the floor with a cup of coffee between your hands. The sweet taste lingers on your tongue, and the scent fills your nostrils with every breath you take. Papers lay all around you on the ground. Your lines are bright with a pink highlighter. Notes are written next to them. A few keywords here and there. One of your co-workers sings in the background, pausing every now and again to correct herself. "It will be good," somebody says from the side. "It will be easier with the music." You turn your focus back to your task when the song starts again. You hum the melody quietly as you continue reading.

"So?" Wanda and Nakia sit next to you, grinning. You look up at them with a frown. "So?" You ask back. "Did you call him?" The older woman asks, nudging you. "No," you sigh. "Not yet." "And why the hell not?" "I didn't have time." "Bullshit," Nakia scoffs. She knows the real reason. You are a scaredy cat. "And what should I tell him?" You ask. For the last week, while your husband was busy dating, you decided to call Steve several times but never had the courage to really do it. You always locked your phone at the last moment. "Ask him out? For a coffee? Or dinner?" Wanda suggests. "And what do I do on a date?" You groan, letting your head fall back. The ceiling is tall, and the lights are dim above you. You only ever dated Kent and only at the beginning of your relationship. Both of you were clueless teenagers, trying to figure out how to do this whole we-are-a-couple-thing. You went to the cinema or to a fast food restaurant. It was cheap and easy. You are sure a man like Steve wouldn't appreciate it. You wouldn't appreciate it either. You want something real. Candle lights and roses. Delicious food and drinks. Maybe dancing. "Well, you enjoy yourself," Wanda says. "You get to know each other." "You don't have to," Nakia cuts in, leaning closer. "You aren't looking for a boyfriend. You don't have to know him that much. You can just have sex." Oh, god, the sex. Your first was Kent, and you never cheated on him. How does it work with other men? And could you really do it? Sleeping with someone else while you are married? "Maybe he wouldn't even come," you tell them. "I have to tell him about the open marriage." "You can't know that for sure if you don't call him." "Fine, fine," you exhale. "I will call him tonight, okay?"

When you get home after the rehearsal, Kent is still home, watching TV. You can't help but be surprised. "You?" You ask him. "No work? No date?" "Not tonight." You hate yourself for the hope you feel the moment he answers. "Then we could do a date night? Like at the beginning of our relationship?" It can be a start. "Sure," he smiles, nodding. He doesn't even have to say more. You change your clothes, and after ordering some food, you let him choose a movie. His arm is around you, hugging you to his side. The scent of his cologne is familiar and comforting. "I have to use the restroom," he says after a while, and when he comes back, his phone is in his hand. You wait for Kent to put it down and hug you, but it never happens. He continues to tap away on his phone, not caring about you or the movie. "Could you put it down?" You ask him. "In a moment." But that moment never comes. "Kent!" You snap at him. Annoyance and impatience are clear in your voice. "Just for this night!" He doesn't even answer. He just grimaces. "Fuck you!" You grunt, leaving him in the living room to do whatever he wants. "What is your problem now?" He shouts after you, but the only answer he gets is the loud thud as you push the door of your bedroom shut. Angry tears burn your eyes as you sit down at the edge of the bed. You don't even know what to do anymore. Whatever you two are doing has nothing to do with making your marriage better. How could any of this make your relationship better? How could you enjoy a night with your husband while he is texting other women? And how can he act like this? You were sitting next to him!

"Fuck you," you grunt again into the quiet room as you pick up the familiar card from the small table next to your bed. It's smooth and cold with Steve's name and number on it.

Nakia and Wanda are right. This marriage is open for you too.

"Steve Rogers." Comes the voice from the other end of the line. Your stomach tightens at the fact that he picked up. For some reason, you didn't think he would answer. "Hey, Steve," you croak out. "It's Y/N." His tone changes immediately. "Hey, Y/N. I was afraid you would never call," he jokes. "Yeah," you hum. Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. "I was busy with work." "I totally understand." You can hear the smile in his words. You can almost see him too. Gentle eyes and soft lips. Blond hair and clear blue eyes. "Can I hope you called me to accept my offer?" "Yes," you nod. "I called you for that, but you must know something." "I'm listening." The man pushes himself away from his table to focus on you entirely. He really waited for you to call him. "I'm married," you admit with a deep breath. Your words are followed by silence. You can still hear his breathing, though. "Oh?" He hums. He didn't see that coming. "Yeah," you nod again. At this point, you just wait for him to end the call without saying anything. "But it's a bit more difficult, you see. It's an open marriage." Steve doesn't feel less confused. "Oh?" "We agreed to it a few weeks ago. And I have to tell you because it wouldn't be fair otherwise. And I understand if you don't want to go out anymore…" Maybe you should be the one who ends the call. There is no way he would... "Send me your address," he says after a few seconds. "I will pick you up on Friday if it's okay?" You need a moment to get over your shock. "Yes," you reply. "I'm free." "Great, Sugar. I will see you soon."

Sugar?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mafia au #mafia!steve rogers

82 notes · View notes