#I love that when he’s afraid of everything he can come to me and know I’ve got his back I love that I’m the only one he came out to
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dorabellingham · 3 days ago
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Drunk Call
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warning: alcoholic beverages, being unconscious
characters: jude x reader
summary: when you call him in the middle of the night because you haven't gotten over the breakup
may contain spelling and translation errors!
It was a silent night in Madrid and Jude was sitting on the sofa in his apartment, his eyes fixed on the television, but not really paying attention to what was playing. His mind was somewhere else, or rather, with someone else. You. Since the breakup, things had never been the same for him. He knew he needed to move on, but how? When everything around him seemed to have your memories embedded in it? The sound of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the screen. It was you. His hand hesitated for a moment before answering, his heart pounding in his chest.
—Y/n?
His voice came out cautious, almost fearful.
—Jude... —Your tone was slurred, tearful, unmistakably drunk. —Please, don’t hang up.
He sat up straighter, a wave of worry taking over him.
—Y/n, what’s going on? Are you okay?
—No... —You sobbed, and he felt the lump in his throat tighten. —I... I'm horrible. I can't do this anymore. I can't live without you, Jude.
His heart sank. He wanted to tell you that he felt the same way, that every day without you was a constant struggle. But he knew you weren't in the right state to hear that right now.
—Where are you?
He asked, trying to stay calm.
—At home... —You laughed humorlessly. —Alone, as always. Honey... can you come? I know I shouldn't ask this, but...
He was already grabbing the keys before you could even finish.
—Stay there, okay? I'm going.
When Jude got to your apartment, the door was already unlocked, which only increased his concern. He walked in and found you sitting on the floor in the living room, holding a half-empty bottle of wine and with your eyes red from crying so much.
—Y/n...
He approached slowly, kneeling in front of you.
You looked at him, your eyes watering, and suddenly started laughing.
—You came. I can't believe you came.
—Of course I did. —He put the bottle aside and held your face in his hands. —What's happening to you?
You shook your head, tears starting to flow again.
—I'm broken, Jude. I know I was the one who broke up, but... I didn't know it would be like this. I didn't know it would hurt so much.
He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your words.
—Sweetie, you're drunk. We should talk about this when you're better.
—No! —You held onto his shirt, almost as if you were afraid he would disappear. —I need to say this now. Jude, I love you. I've always loved you, and I was an idiot for thinking I could live without you.
Your words hit him like a punch to the chest. He loved you. He always had. And hearing it from you now, even in that state, made everything inside him want to scream that he felt the same way.
—Y/n...
He started, but you interrupted.
—You can hate me. You can ignore me tomorrow. But today, Jude, please, just hold me.
He couldn't resist. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight, as if he could protect you from all the pain you were feeling. You cried against his chest, sobbing, as he ran his hand through your hair.
—I never hated you. —He whispered. —Not for a second.
You pulled away just enough to look at him, your eyes shining with a mix of sadness and hope.
—Then stay... just for today.
Jude nodded, unable to deny you anything at that moment. He helped you up and took you to the bedroom, where you lay down, still holding his hand as if it was the only thing keeping you on the ground.
—Will you be here when I wake up?
You asked, your voice trembling, before closing your eyes.
He squeezed your hand gently, feeling a new wave of emotions rise within him.
—I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. I promise.
And that night, as you slept, he stayed by your side, watching you, fighting his own demons and wondering if, perhaps, you could still have a future together.
part 2?
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mandoriana · 2 days ago
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Gwaine: Hey princess, why do we always bring Merlin with us on hunts?
Arthur *shrugs*: He likes it.
Gwaine: 🤨
Gwaine turns to Merlin.
Gwaine: Hey Merls, what do you like most about going hunting?
Merlin: I like coming home. I love coming home. I’m addicted to coming home. I’m the biggest fan of coming home!
Arthur: 🙄
Gwaine *laughing*: Seriously, Merls, then tell me, what’s the best part of coming home? Is there a lady waiting for you? Maybe a knight? 😏
Merlin: Oh, you know, there’s no better feeling than coming home. I don’t need anyone waiting for me. Actually, I love it when there’s no one waiting for me. I can pass by Arthur’s room, put him to bed, and then have peace for the rest of the night. When I enter my room and close the door, it’s like peace reigns in my life!
Gwaine: Your first concern is always to stop by Arthur’s room first. Are you afraid he might need you for something?
Merlin: I just serve him before entering my room. Once I’m in bed, he can shout all he wants, I’ll be asleep.
Arthur *rolls his eyes*: Liar, once I sneezed in my sleep, and you came running to my room asking if I had been poisoned.
Merlin: It was a reasonable question!
Arthur: I just sneezed, Merlin!
Merlin *rolls his eyes*: As I was saying, I love coming home. Sometimes I just leave home so I can come back and have the happy feeling of entering my room. Staying home is my favorite event because I’m the guest, the audience, and the main attraction. In other words, everything is better when I’m home, and no, I don’t like going hunting.
Gwaine: Haha, it seems he doesn’t like going hunting.
Arthur: 🙄
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f1amour · 3 days ago
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heyyy! can i request “i’m scared of losing you” (from angst1) with oscar piastri?
❝ i’m scared of losing you ❞ — oscar piastri
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pairing | oscar piastri x reader
content warnings | lots of miscommunication, angst, comfort, happy ending
★ JOIN MY SHORT N SWEET FRIENDSGIVING !
─────────────────────────
it had been a few months since you last attended a race due to your job obligations but in oscar’s eyes he only saw it as one thing; you’ve missed him winning a race, twice now.
in his eyes he thought you may no longer love him that he wasn’t worth enough for you. however, in your eyes you believed he no longer loved you especially due to his lack of presence in your life and never asking you to join him for a race weekend in months. both of you afraid to lose each other didn’t touch on the subject and living as if everything is okay.
until it wasn’t.
“i may not win another race this season but i would appreciate your support! you weren’t there for my two wins and i…i’m tired of this,” oscar argued back, you had both gone out to dinner in monaco after he returned from singapore. it started with a sweet conversation of what to do for the break to now bitter comments towards each other.
“tired of what? of me? i’m trying, oscar. i just started my third year of university and then work—.”
“work! it’s always work this work that. they always need you for something even though it’s not even in your title to do all that! you drop everything to be there for them but you can’t be there for me not even once…baby?” his mean words hit you immediately and you sit on the couch of your apartment hands covering your face as you sob uncontrollably.
“baby, yn…hey, hey breathe with me. it’s okay i’m here” oscar whispers on your ear, both arms cradling you now. was it okay? his approach may not have been the best but he wasn’t wrong. your job had been putting too much on your plate when you were meant to just be an underpaid intern who was doing multiple jobs that were not your responsibility.
“but you aren’t here, osc. i…i know that your career is demanding but you didn’t take a second to look back and realize i ease being left behind. i feel guilty i wasn’t there for your two wins especially your first. i begged my job to let me just visit you for a day to celebrate but they made me stay. it wasn’t even my day to work and i still stayed. i chose a job that doesn’t value me over you…you do care about me maybe not right now—.”
“i’m gonna stop you right there. i’m an idiot who didn’t bother asking how you’ve been recently and expecting you to support me more when i didn’t see what you’d been going through. i’m so sorry,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours kissing your tears away.
you whisper out five words you’d been feeling for awhile now, “i’m scared of losing you,” closing your eyes ready for oscar to say you’ve already lost him, “i’m scared too.” his voice matches your vulnerability.
opening your eyes looking at him in shock, “you are?” you felt like you were both taking a big step in admitting this. maybe, just maybe this would help in repairing your relationship.
“i am. i think we’ve been selfish towards each other but we also haven’t communicated right. i should have asked you more about how the job was treating you-,”
“i should have asked you how the team had been treating you.” you counter back and he chuckles.
“i know you want to be independent when it comes to your career. but i think you should quit that job and focus on school only. i know you don’t want me to take care of you financially but just let me do that for now until you graduate and find a job that will value the skills you have. i can’t lose us. i can’t lose you, yn. i love you.” his words filled with nothing but love, oscar meant well and for once you decide to take him up on the offer he’d been giving you since you started dating two years ago.
“okay.” a simple word replacing your frown into a smile on each others faces. there was work to do on your communication with each other but for now you both got to breathe a sigh of relief after facing a fear that would no longer happen.
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freaky-deaky-cookies · 2 days ago
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Can I request headcanons for Dark Urge, Geraldus, Wyll, Halsin, Gale, and Astarion reacting to shy GN s/o who always asks for permission even just to hold hands or a kiss on the cheek please?
Dark Urge, Geraldus, Wyll, Halsin, Gale, and Astarion (Sep) reacting to shy Tav who always asks for permission even just to hold hands or a kiss on the cheek
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Dark Urge (redeeming)
Towards the beginning of the relationship they do not really understand why Tav asks for permission
Would initially think that Tav is afraid they would hurt them
For the Dark Urge their whole life was to take anything and everything they wanted
As time goes on and Dark Urge starts to learn from / heal from their past trauma they find Tav asking for permission to be extremely sweet and understanding
Dark Urge has never truly got to experience someone who truly loves them for who they are 
Tav’s requests for permission and their shyness would be a constant reminder that love and affection don’t have to come from a place of control or dominance
“Thank you Tav, you have shown me more love and understanding than any other soul that exists.”
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Geraldus
Not sure how Tav and Geraldus even got themselves in a relationship
Geraldus, himself is on the shy side
However, when he is not blushing and mumbling out his own request for affection, his mind is fired listening to Tav ask for it
Geraldus would never say no to Tav
To him Tav is higher than the Gods, they are perfection
“Why would you ask me such a thing dear… I cannot get enough of you”
“Do you think I would ever turn down a kiss from you?”
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Wyll
Total sweetheart about it
Wyll finds this to be among the most endearing things about his Tav
At heart Wyll is a true, traditional romantic, and what is more than romantic than the love of their life looking at you and asking for your love and affection
Wyll is another one to hardly ever deny Tav’s request
“You never have to ask, my dear. But I understand that you want to feel comfortable—let me know how I can make this easier for you.”
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Halsin (!Halsin Backstory Spoilers!)
Halsin’s eyes are so full of love anytime he hears Tavs sweet voice ask for him
While is was long ago, Halsin appreciate Tav asking permission before they jump him with kisses and cuddles
From time to time Halsin gets in his head about that time he was used as a pleasure servant
As wild as Halsin is, he is still a mortal with a mortal mind
If Tav hesitated, he’d hold out his hand gently or give Tav a soft kiss on the forehead
“My heart, you are true perfection”
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Gale
EATS THIS UP
Gale wants to be wanted, especially by Tav
Gale, who is intelligent and often a bit formal in his mannerisms, would understand Tav’s need for permission but wants nothing more than to hold Tav
He believes in the power of trust and would reassure Tav that there’s nothing to fear from him
“Ah, my dear, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but there’s no need for permission in matters of the heart.” (Sush Gale we all know you want them to keep asking because you love it so much)
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Astarion
Astarion would be the most conflicted in terms of his reaction. On one hand, he would deeply appreciate that Tav’s respect boundaries and asks for permission, as he is someone who has a very sensitive relationship with consent. 
However, because of his own traumatic past, his reaction might come across as more self-deprecating or sarcastic at first.
He’d try to tease Tav about it, making light of the situation with his usual charm and wit, but underneath his sarcasm, there’s a genuine desire to make you feel comfortable. 
He would be keen to show you that he’d never force anything on you and might even go out of his way to be overly considerate, so you know that you are always in control of the situation.
���You don’t need to ask, darling... but I suppose I do enjoy the thought of you wanting to be sure.”
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ttodorokiii · 1 day ago
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aaa soft yan!shouto with a yaoyorozu!reader ‼️ reader likes him back but tries to stop him from courting them because they knew momo liked him ;(
warnings: yándèrè, guílt, mánípùlátíòn, íntènsè.
note. LOLLL HI GUYS. Enjoy this if you can I’ll try to be more active here!!!!
•••
You have always known how much your older sister, Momo, cares for Shouto.
You love your sister so much and you could never come between him and her…
But now, as you stand in the quiet corner of the living room, watching Shouto talk to Momohis attention never fully on her, but drawn toward you with an intensity you’ve never seen before the weight of what’s happening presses down on you like a crushing weight.
You like him too. You feel it in the way your heart races when he’s near, the flutter in your chest when his monochromatic eyes catch yours. It’s always been subtle at first, just a passing thought that you pushed aside, thinking it was nothing. But it’s undeniable now. He looks at you like he sees no one else. Like you’re the only one that matters.
And it terrifies you.
Because you know. You know that Momo has feelings for him,
feelings that have never been confessed but are still there, hidden beneath the surface. You know what it would do to her if she found out. And you can’t—no, you won’t—be the one to destroy her heart.
So, you try. You try with every ounce of willpower you have to push Shouto away. When he gets too close,
you step back. When he smiles at you, you turn your gaze elsewhere. You refuse to let your feelings show, afraid that the moment they do, it will ruin everything.
“YN,” he says your name with such quiet affection that your breath hitches. You look up at him, and your heart does a strange, painful twist. He’s standing too close again. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”
Your stomach churns at the thought of what he might say. But it’s more than just that.
It’s his presence, his gaze, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It’s suffocating. It makes you feel trapped, like there’s nowhere to hide.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” He pauses, his expression softening, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Your heart skips, but your mind races. “Shouto…” You bite your lip, your thoughts frantic. You can’t let this go any further. Momo can’t know.
“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to steady your voice. “I can’t—It’s not right. You… you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Momo she, she likes you, Shouto. You should be with her.”
He watches you, and for a long moment, you swear his eyes darken,
like the cool blue has melted into something dangerous. But when he speaks again, his voice is gentle, almost soothing.
“Momo’s feelings don’t matter,” he says, his voice low, a hint of something darker behind it. “Not compared to what I feel for you.”
How dare he say that?
You feel a chill run down your spine as he takes a slow step closer. There’s a possessiveness in his tone now, something you hadn’t heard before. It’s like a whisper in the back of your mind, a warning. He doesn’t care about Momo. He cares about you.
“I know you’re trying to protect her,” he continues, his voice almost too soft. “But I’m not going to stop, YN. I won’t let you push me away. You’re mine.”
The words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s something in his eyes, something that has shifted—he’s not just the quiet, kind Shouto you once admired from afar. He’s something darker now. Something possessive.
“I know you’re scared. But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again,” he adds, the promise in his tone unsettling, like it’s something he’s determined to fulfill no matter the cost.
You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, Shouto. You don’t understand. Momo, she’s my sister. She loves you. You can’t just—”
“I don’t care about that,” he interrupts, stepping closer again, his presence suffocating. “You’re the one I want. And I’ll make sure you know that, YN.”
He cuts you off, you don’t know how to make him understand someone like him could never understand…
You can barely breathe as he stands in front of you now, his body close enough that you can feel the heat of him,
Your mind is racing, torn between the love you feel for Shouto and the guilt that gnaws at you for betraying Momo. You can’t do this to her. You can’t.
But his eyes—those eyes—are burning into you now, and the way he looks at you makes it feel like there’s no way out. It’s like he’s inside your mind, pulling at all your insecurities, your fears, your desires, until there’s nothing left but him.
“I’m not going to stop, YN. Don’t fight me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, and you shiver. The way he says your name, it’s a declaration. A promise.
You want to push him away. You want to scream at him to stop. You want to protect Momo, to keep the fragile peace between the two of you intact. But you can’t.
You can’t fight him, not when he’s looking at you like this. Not when he’s making it clear that he won’t let you go.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason she’s in pain.”
But Shouto just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and says one thing, his voice as cold as ice yet burning with something else.
“She’ll get over it. You’re mine now.”
And it’s in that moment you realize,
the longer you resist, the deeper his obsession grows. He’s not going to let you go. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect Momo, Shouto’s not going to stop.
And you wonder, with a sinking heart, if you’ve already lost.
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ancientwastedlores · 23 hours ago
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Don't Be Kind To It (Homelander x Reader)
The overwhelming amount of love Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys got really hit me in the feels. Some of you asked for a part II, and much like Homelander, I aim to please (and love the praise).
[tags: @helreyy @discowizard88 @slasherho]
This one is lightly inspired by Hozier's "It Will Come Back," and we get a glimpse into Homelander's perspective as well.
Hope you enjoy it! <3
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Don't Be Kind To It
Don't let it in with no intention to keep it Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it
You're a smart cookie. And you know Homelander better than he knows himself. You expect him to stalk you, watch you from rooftops, send you gifts that have an agenda, and force Vought's Crime Analytics department to keep an eye on you.
So, you wait. You listen for the telltale whoosh of air, the crackle of energy that signals his arrival. Every gust of wind sends your heart hammering; every creak of the floorboards makes your blood run cold. You scan the skyline for a flash of red and blue, bracing yourself for the inevitable.
At first, you think he’s just toying with you, letting you stew in paranoia. You brace for him to materialize at the most inconvenient moment, smug and victorious. Yet days turn into weeks, and his absence becomes undeniable. You tell yourself he’s good at what he does—too good—but the truth begins to sink in: it’s not just you. Nobody has seen him.
No staged rescues. No public appearances. Not even a leaked video of him losing his temper. Ashley let slip that his tracking chip went dead 3 days ago. Vought is scrambling to spin the story - a secret overseas mission? A long-deserved vacation?
But the inner circle is panicking. The people who know him best—the ones who know what he’s capable of—are terrified.
Where the fuck is Homelander?
But... another thought creeps in, invasive and unwelcome, like a splinter under your skin.
Isn't he going to fight for me?
The selfishness of it makes you recoil, but it’s there, undeniable and raw. After everything, after all the suffocating control and emotional whiplash, you almost wanted him to stay obsessed with you. To prove that you still mattered to him. To prove that you had power over the most powerful man alive.
The realization is a gut punch. Maybe you’re not as different from him as you thought. Maybe his possessiveness, his need for control, rubbed off on you more than you care to admit. Maybe you’ve become just as twisted as him, longing for attention—even the toxic kind—because it’s better than silence.
And now, silence is all there is.
It wraps around you like a noose, tightening with every passing day. His absence presses on your chest, cutting off your circulation, making it hard to breathe. You tell yourself it’s relief—that this is what you wanted—but the emptiness feels like punishment. You try to convince yourself he’s sulking, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to make you regret leaving him.
But the longer it stretches on, the more it begins to feel permanent.
You could care less what this means for Vought. All the company seems to care about is who will lead the Seven now. Should they try to replace Homelander or lean into the “team-first” narrative Ashley has been pushing? PR scrambles to keep the media from asking too many questions, trotting out The Deep and Black Noir to cover for him.
But the public isn’t buying it.
Those who love him are afraid he is hurt. Those who hate him post conspiracy theories about Homelander going rogue - which feels way more accurate.
Either way, if Homelander doesn’t want to be found, no one can find him.
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Your days stretch out unfathomably long. You expected to feel free, to savor the clean air and the wide-open spaces of a world without him. Instead, his absence is louder than his presence ever was.
When he was there, he consumed everything: every thought, every moment, every inch of your life. You hated it, resented it, but at least you understood it. His attention, no matter how suffocating, meant you mattered.
But now there’s nothing.
The silence echoes like a scream, reverberating through every corner of your mind. Every sleepless night, every anxious thought loops back to him. Where is he? What is he doing? Is he coming back?
You start to wonder if this is how he wanted it—to leave you drowning in uncertainty, gasping for closure you’ll never get. Maybe this is his ultimate revenge.
Or maybe…
Maybe he’s broken in ways even you can’t fix.
You almost wish for his cruelty, for the familiar push-and-pull of his twisted affection. Because this? This void where he once loomed so large?
It feels like dying.
No. You have to seek him out. You can't quite tell if it's for his sake or yours... you can figure that out later.
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Monster's Lament
The room is dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through cracked blinds. Dust floats in the air, settling over the relics of a forgotten time—old Vought propaganda posters peeling from the walls, a long-dead television covered in grime. It’s quiet here, too quiet, save for the clock that's miraculously still ticking.
Homelander sits slumped in a battered chair, his suit grimy, his cape discarded on the floor in a crumpled heap. His head is in his hands, his golden locks disheveled, the picture of a god brought low.
“You warned her,” a voice says, syrupy sweet.
Homelander doesn’t look up, doesn’t need to—he knows where it’s coming from.
The mirror.
He lifts his gaze reluctantly, and there it is: his own reflection staring back at him, but not quite right. The eyes burn brighter, the teeth are sharper, the smile is crueler. It leans forward as if trying to crawl out of the glass.
"You warned her," it sings again. "But did she listeeeen." "Not now, okay?" Homelander pleads.
The face in the mirror laughs. "Jesus fucking Christ, this is so pathetic. What are you waiting for, for her to come find you? For her to need you?" "She does need me." “Oh, sure. Because you gave her everything. The flying, the fancy dinners, the cape-flipping bullshit. But what did she give you?” It leans closer, its grin widening. “Pity. That’s what. You wanted love, and all you ever got was pity.”
“That’s not true,” Homelander growls, but his voice wavers.
“Isn’t it?” The reflection tilts its head, almost playfully. “She stayed because she felt sorry for you. The broken little boy in the big man’s body. She didn’t love you, not really. She loved the idea of fixing you. And when she couldn’t—”
“Shut up!” Homelander’s voice cracks as he lurches to his feet, his hands trembling.
The reflection’s grin doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows wider. “What’s the matter, Johnny? Don’t like the truth?”
He stands frozen, a deer in headlights. He never learned to deal with complex emotions, and even after all this time, it wraps around him like a boa constrictor, cutting off his air supply and rooting him to the ground.
And the reflection starts to sing. “Don’t feed me, honey. Don’t be kind to me.”
The lyrics echo around Homelander, twisting like a blade.
"Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul Honey, make this easy Leave it to the land, this is what it knows."
"STOP IT" Homelander cries.
"Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back"
"You're supposed to be on MY side." Homelander says. "I am. This is what that looks like," It replies.
Homelander's stares ahead, his fists clenched, his jaw tights, his eyes ready to burn holes into the mirror. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating.
Homelander closes his eyes, but her face is there, burned into his eyelids. The way she looked at him—like he was more than the sum of his power, more than the monster everyone else saw. He hates her for it. He loves her for it.
“Why did you leave?” he whispers to himself.
The reflection’s smile vanishes. For a moment, it almost looks… pitying.
“Because you allowed it,” it says simply.
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
"She fed you ONCE. And you kept going to her like a stray fucking dog. You took her mercy and her love and you became weak. Nobody wants weakness, Johnny." It leans forward, smiling, canines gleaming, "Whatcha gonna do about it?"
Homelander looks at the ground. Shame and desperation wash over him, and he blinks tears back.
"You're going to claim her. And you'll make sure she never, ever leaves again. Right?"
Homelander doesn't look up from the floor.
It gets irritated. "Right?"
Silence.
It rolls its eyes. "Do you want ME to do it?"
Homelander looks up, hope obvious in his bright blue eyes.
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You don’t intend to start looking for him. It just… happens.
It begins with small, idle habits—clicking on articles about Vought’s latest scandals, scrolling through old news coverage, and watching grainy footage of staged rescues from years past. Your eyes search for him automatically, for that familiar streak of red and blue cutting through the chaos.
Then it escalates.
You start wandering the city at night, tracing the paths he once flew you along. You visit the rooftops where he used to land with a flourish, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. You linger outside the exclusive restaurants where he once paraded you like a trophy, his smile razor-sharp as he soaked in the envy of the other diners.
But it’s not just the glamorous places.
You walk down seedy alleys and explore dark corners—the forgotten places he claimed as private retreats. The places where he could let his guard down, where the mask of America’s golden boy slipped.
It feels grotesque, this act of seeking him out. Like you’re willingly feeding the monster you swore you’d escape. You hate yourself for it, for the way your heart leaps at the thought of seeing him again, even if it’s just to tell him to his face that you’re done.
But you can’t stop.
You start putting yourself in danger—not consciously, but recklessly enough that it’s obvious even to you. Walking alone through neighborhoods that turn predatory after dark. Taking late-night trains without any plan or destination. Part of you hopes he’ll swoop in, cape flaring, to save you in one of his dramatic displays of power.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, one night, it’s Black Noir who finds you.
The alley is suffocatingly narrow, the air heavy with the mingling stench of rotting garbage and damp asphalt. The dim, flickering streetlight overhead barely illuminates the passage as two men circle you like predators. Their laughter is low and ugly, their shadows long and distorted against the brick walls.
You freeze, your breath caught somewhere between a scream and a sob, as one of them lunges toward you. You pray even now that he'll swoop in from somewhere.
And then he’s there.
Black Noir steps from the shadows like death itself. His arrival is so silent, so abrupt, that the men don’t even notice him until it’s too late. A gloved hand clamps down on one man’s shoulder, spinning him around with an almost casual effort. Noir doesn’t waste time. The blow is swift, brutal—a single strike to the man’s temple that sends him crumpling to the ground.
The second man barely has time to react, stumbling backward with a terrified curse. Noir closes the distance in an instant, his movements fluid and precise. A sharp crack echoes through the alley as the man’s arm is wrenched at an unnatural angle. He screams, but Noir silences him with a swift knee to the ribs. He falls, gasping and broken, as Noir turns to you.
The black Kevlar of his suit gleams faintly in the dim light, the contours of his armor making him seem more shadow than man. His helmet hides his face entirely, the opaque visor reflecting your terrified expression back at you. He stands perfectly still, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his presence both menacing and oddly comforting.
You crumble to the ground, your legs giving out beneath you as adrenaline and fear collide in your veins. Relief washes over you, but it’s tainted by something darker—frustration, disappointment, an aching sense of abandonment.
Noir kneels on the ground to make sure you're okay.
“Why—why isn’t he here?” you sob, your voice breaking. The words spill out of you, raw and unfiltered, as you pound your fists weakly against Noir’s chest.
He doesn’t move.
“Why won’t he come for me?” you cry, your hands trembling against the hard, unyielding surface of his armor. “He’s supposed to be here. He’s always here.”
Noir doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t. He simply stands there, a silent sentinel as your emotions spill over in a torrent of tears and ragged gasps. His helmet tilts ever so slightly, as if he’s observing you, but he offers no comfort, no words of reassurance.
You clutch at him like a drowning person reaching for a lifeline, your fingers curling around the slick fabric of his suit. The tears come harder now, soaking into the Kevlar as you press your face against him.
“I hate him,” you whisper through clenched teeth, though the bitterness in your voice is softened by the despair in your heart. “I hate him for leaving.”
Noir stands up, lifting you with him, and lets you go once he's sure you're standing straight. His silence is maddening. Why isn't he angry that you're being ungrateful? Why isn't he at least talking about Homelander disappearing? ANYTHING?
You finally step back, your hands trembling as you wipe at your tear-streaked face. Your gaze meets Noir’s visor, and for a moment, you imagine you see something there—pity, perhaps, or understanding. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the blank, inscrutable void of his masked expression.
“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, though the words feel hollow. What you really want to say is, Why wasn’t it him?
Noir doesn’t react. He simply steps back, his movements as quiet and calculated as ever, before melting into the shadows.
You’re alone again, the weight of Homelander's absence pressing down on you like a physical force.
But... a thought creeps in. If Black Noir came, then Homelander must know, too. They all have access to the same intel. He knows where you are and what you’re doing, and still—still—he hasn’t come for you.
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GUYS, I think this is going to be a three-parter. Bear with me. The next chapter will be the last. Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be tagged to the third one!
Thank you for all the love 😭😭
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capquinn · 2 hours ago
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cant stop thinking putting quinn in the dog house for something he did and him being super clingy and yeah😔😔(im down bad for this man)
STOP he’d be a freaking nightmare to deal with in the dog house and you’d get no satisfaction out of it 😭😭😭
So the thing about Quinn is that he doesn’t mess up often — not in the big ways, at least. So when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He’s not the kind of guy to brush it off or pretend it didn’t happen; he feels it. Deeply. Which is probably why, after whatever dumb thing he’d done, he’d been moping around the house like a kicked puppy for days.
And it wasn’t like you’d slammed a door or screamed at him when it happened. You’d just went quiet. Pulled away. You didn’t even mean to — it was just instinct. But he noticed, of course he did, because Quinn notices everything when it comes to you. And the worst part? You didn’t yell. You didn’t even seem angry. You just looked… hurt.
And that gutted him.
He’d tried giving you space at first, thinking maybe that’s what you wanted. But Quinn’s not a man built for distance. Not from you, atleast. So by day two, he was trailing after you like a lost child, his big, stupid, guilty eyes following you around the house, looking for any sign of forgiveness.
“Need any help with dinner?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I can chop the onions? Or, uh, wash the dishes after?”
“I’ve got it, Quinn.”
It was killing him. Every clipped sentence, every soft sigh chipped away at him bit by bit. And yeah, maybe you weren’t outright ignoring him, but your responses were just polite enough to make him feel the weight of the distance between you. The worst kind of punishment, because it wasn’t really punishment at all — it was just the consequence of hurting someone you love.
By day three, he was in full-on grovel mode. Apologies spilling out of him whenever you so much as glanced his way. Little touches — on your shoulder, your hand, your waist — tentative and quick, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore. And the kicker? He started leaving you notes. Notes. Like he was a middle schooler trying to get his crush back.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re right. I was a jerk.”
“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
They’d pop up everywhere — on the fridge, on your pillow, even in your bag when you were heading out the door. And it wasn’t even annoying; it was just… Quinn. Pathetic in the most endearing way, his guilt so genuine it practically radiated off him.
When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.
“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you can’t even look at me without…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it takes. Just tell me how.”
And how could you stay mad at that? At the man who looked at you like you hung the stars, who was so bad at being in trouble because the thought of being out of your good graces was unbearable to him?
You didn’t say anything right away, just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against his chest. His arms came around you instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, and you felt the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice breaking slightly, and this time, you didn’t just hear the words — you felt them.
“I know,” you said softly, and the weight of it all seemed to lift in that moment.
Quinn would hold you there for as long as you let him, his grip firm but careful, like he was still afraid you might slip away. And when you finally pulled back, his eyes would search yours, full of hope and relief and that quiet, unshakable love that made forgiving him the easiest thing in the world.
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takeyourcyanide · 2 days ago
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You’ll Never Take Me Alive, Never! You Better Pray That I Die!
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fandom: soul eater
characters: spirit albarn, franken stein
word count: 657
tags: cuddling & snuggling, madness, hallucinations, fluff and hurt/comfort, comfort, domestic fluff, title from a will wood song, hurt/comfort
summary: Stein is struggling with the madness and Spirit allows him to crawl into bed with him.
*They are implied to be teenagers in this.
notes: I am working on a longer fic yay I love doing things for cptsd yay I have another one ready to post too but it’s a short yay I’ll upload it tomorrow
also the title is from the will wood song mr capgras encounters a secondhand vanity
Stein placed his hands onto Spirit’s side and arm, gently shaking him back and forth, loudly whispering a mantra;
“Spirit. Spirit. Spirit. Wake up, Spirit.”
Prying open bleary eyes and squinting at Stein through the blanketing darkness, Albarn lifted his torso and rested on his elbow. “What,” he groggily grunted, rubbing his grimacing face. “What are you doing in here? What do you want?”
Stein was avoiding making any eye contact at all, merely staring at his blue sheets. He was swaying on his feet and feeling incessantly of his knuckles, the tremble in his voice growing thicker with each word.
“Nightmares,” he spoke concisely and not above murmur.
Albarn lifted a suspecting eyebrow. “Waking nightmares?”
“Waking.”
Spirit threw the covers open, gesturing Stein to come and scooting over to the other side of the bed, to which he promptly crawled into the pocket of warmth the weapon had so kindly created, pulling the comforter all the way up past his nose, curling up and hiding underneath it.
A quiet voice demanding that Stein follow it repeated itself just as it had when he’d trudged anxiously down the hall, as the feeling of the spider-legged eyes running up and down his fingers, his arms, his head, his legs overwhelmed his senses. To Spirit’s fright, he slapped and scratched at his limbs, even flailing agitatedly.
“Hey, don’t do that!” He exclaimed with a concerned countenance, hoisting himself up immediately. He grabbed ahold of Stein’s wild arms and soothed over the reddened skin with uncharacteristically tender thumbs. “Were they crawling on you again?”
He nodded his head slowly, body unmoving, still not bearing to look at his partner. He looked to be somewhat afraid or apprehensive, as if something horrible would happen if their eyes were to meet.
“Hm,” Spirit hummed pensively, averting his gaze for the sake of Stein’s comfort. “I know you’re not much of a hugger.. but.. would it help if I held you- you know, just so you wouldn’t hurt yourself?”
It was barely noticeable, but Franken’s eyes widened by a small margin, darting across the room.
“And… you seem a little scared. Maybe it would make you feel better? Hugs make me feel better, though you’re not me. Have you ever cuddled with anyone before?”
He shook his head “no,” movements still strangely slow.
“Would you like to try? I’m sure you’re curious about it- you’re curious about just about everything, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“You can think about, uh, the scientific explanation behind, uh, why, uh, humans enjoy this shit, okay? And if you don’t like it, tell me and we’ll stop.”
“Okay.”
“Well, all right.”
Spirit moved to lay down along with Stein once more, inching closer and wrapping his arms around his upper half, bringing one hand to the back of his head. “Here, I’ll make sure they don’t bother you, yeah?” He gently concealed the younger’s face against his chest, quickly pulling the covers over the both of them. Stein kneaded fistfuls of his shirt in his hands, fiddling with the fabric in between his fingers, as he swung a leg over Spirit’s.
Heaving a languid and content sigh, Albarn muttered, “There we go. …Just relax now. I know it’s hard, Stein. I know you’re feeling a little wound up, but just breathe with me for a moment. Just breathe, in and out, okay? I know your head’s probably racing with a bunch of scary thoughts all at once, and I know you’ll probably find this suspicious of me to say, but close your eyes. Relax. Listen to the sound of my voice.. try to ignore theirs if they’re bothering you. You know I’m always here for you, don’t you? You’re my meister. My strong, cockroach of a meister. You could survive anything. You’ll make it through the madness alive, I know you will.”
“……Thank you,” Stein squeezed him just a little tighter, to which Spirit squeezed him in return.
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donaviolet · 4 months ago
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Friendship is the most special thing in the world because no award could be give me bigger happiness than jumping around in my room and smiling because my pookie asked me if I wanted to match pfps
#SHES AMAZING I LOVE HER AHHHHH#I hope we manage to find a cute bsd pfp it would be literally my dream#little vent tw!!#it's been so long since I matched pfps last time was with my ex who started being wayyyyy too weird..#and the other time was with a friend who started ghosting me some months later just because I didnt give her enough adopt me pets or smth 💔#and like. her stopping talking to be literally broke me as a person. it was devastanting for like 13yo me#woahhh thank you k. now I have social anxiety and keep dobting whether people really want me there or not#I still have a sort of love hate relationship w her but like its been over 2 years maybe 3 why do I still care abt it sm :<#especially since our other bestie is wayy more affectionate w k than w me it just makes me feel so weird like im sort of a 3rd wheel#but at least the friend im gonna match with is the sweetest person ever and we can be silly together :333#unfortunately we only know eachother from a course so we always have to wait 2 weeks to see eachother#and even tho i still see k almost every day shes pretty different now#but ive been feeling so so happy the last few days since school started and im afraid I might go back to being how I was when she returns#because. I bet my two friends will keep being silly together and ill have to sit w my ex again cuz hes still part of our friend group#I mean hes a nice and funny guy but I figured that a relationship wont work with us. I tried it and I just wanna be friends#I have a lot of fun w him but like in a platonic way#and im afraid he still thinks we should be together#meanwhile my besties keep flirting w eachother like??#I mean its pretty funny as a joke but I cant help but feeling kinda jealous especially because I used to have a huge crush in one of them#talked a bit too much ooopssss#Im just trying to move on but I hope k coming back doesnt start everything over again#anyways!! I love my bestie from the course smmmmmm Im still so so happy :D wish we could see eachother more#random stuff#chaos#friendship#violet rambles
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wat-zu · 7 months ago
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Absolutely love your art. I want to nom it.
Also, Hollow Heads Siblings my beloveds,,,
Theyre the doomed siblings ever its not even funny
#Oouugh i have thoughts abt the hollowhead siblings. How theyre so intricately tied to eachother since their birth but they'd be#Eachother'd downfall. Esp when it's Dark and his relationship with the others#Dark would never understand what chosen went through. Mainly bc i think chosen is used to fighting his internal battles on his own#While he was in captive as an ad blocker. He loves Dark. He's grateful for Dark bc without him he wouldn't be free#But Dark isnt exactly someone reliable enough for Chosen to get the necessary healing he wants and needs#But that won't stop Dark from trying to fix him. Creates the virus for revenge. As chosen watches his brother spiral and spiral#As he watches him drift further away. Unable to get him back without a shouting match. As he watches with his heart heavy and cracked at-#Their stiffed interactions and strained relationship. He can't remember a time where they shared geniune laughs.#Then tsc coming came and changed everything.#Because this is someone who went through Chosen's pain albeit a lil differently. Someone who knows. Someone who /understands/. And this-#Someone is so much more younger than them and had to go through that pain in such a short amount of time since their birth#He sees himself in them. And he's rather walk up to alan demanding to get his hands cuffed than let tsc fester in that pain.#So tsc became chosen's priority. Healed eachother in many ways than one and are at echother's beck and call if need be.#As for Dark. I think he'd manipulate tsc into using him for his revenge. After stalking out his code and finding out about his potential#And TSC cant help but fall for his manipulations. Since this person is very very important to Chosen and they want so badly to impress-#Them both. They agreed and overtime grew to love eachother. And overtime Dark shifted his goals just a tad bit. Getting TSC more and more-#Involved. Since hey if Chosen doesn't like touching alan with a 10 ft pole why not let this kid do. And TCS agrees to this thinking that-#This is it. This is can finally heal them completely. Finally out of sight and out of mind. Finally can't live without the pain lingering#And chosen watches them with a sense of deja vu. At loss at what to do and so so afraid to lose two of his lil siblings#Then shit hits the brick UBSJDBSJSN#They make me so ill im not even kidding when i said theyre so so very very doomed!!!!!!!!!#This is abt the au btw BAHHAHAHABHA
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gregoftom · 1 year ago
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mannnn who up tearing up over the sticker scene
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lycanthian · 8 months ago
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there is nothing more inhumanly frustrating to me than when someone tries to correct you on something and by all accounts theyre right except that in doing so they have wrongly assumed what you are trying to do
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zukkaoru · 2 years ago
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i support women's wrongs but i have to say i'm also a rather big fan of consistent characterization,,
#this is about#jjk 211#jjk leaks#like okay i get wanting tsumiki to be a little evil that's fine!!#but given that her big motif in s1 was 'even if i could curse someone i'd rather spend my time loving them'#it just seems like uhhhhh it wouldn't be the best writing#like it could be done well but it would be difficult and i'm. not sure i trust gege that much lol#also i get that what we've seen of her has only been through megumi's biased perspective but like#there's not many ways to misinterpret the meaning of#'if i had the time to curse someone i'd rather spend it thinking about those precious to me'#so to go back on that just because she can used cursed energy / does have a ct now seems..... really inconsistent#she doesn't seem like the type of person to be hypocritical about something like that#she's been portrayed as someone with a very strong inclination towards Goodness#and obviously that isn't black and white#but it just. rubs me the wrong way to completely undermine everything we know about her#megumi certainly isn't the most reliable narrator - especially when it comes to those he cares about#but he isn't a liar#and he isn't stupid#i'm just afraid that this is going to be a huge disservice to both tsumiki AND megumi and i. don't want that#i just. i hate when authors forget the characterization of their own characters for the sake of a plot twist#maybe it'll be fine!! but i'm sick and tired of 'idk let's just make this character do something entirely ooc bc no one will see it coming'#if it actually works great! but i'm not jumping on the 'let tsumiki kill' train yet bc with what we know of her so far it just#it doesn't make sense#and there's a difference between 'unreliable narrator / biased narrator' and just. straight up lying with no hints towards the truth#anyway sorry i just have. feelings#maybe i'm still a little traumatized from the 0uat writers entirely forgetting everyone's canon characterization past s3 but i am. wary#i've seen too many shows/series entirely disregard the established characterizations for the sake of surprising viewers with a poorly#written plot twist#hello grace here#there was supposed to be more tags here but tumblr cut me off rip </3 oh well my point stands
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girl-hwat · 1 year ago
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just thinking about how Evil of the Daleks feels to me like “I believe in her” from the Satan Pit for twojamie
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skeletalheartattack · 7 months ago
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hi, i've been readin dragon ball for the first time these past few weeks and just finished the part where they're on planet namek. I Understand What You See In Him.
he's fucking something right??? ohhh straight up, you should see (and hear) him in the anime as well if you think you have the full picture. i've been absolutely obsessed forever
youtube
#ask#anon#i'm a little tired so i'm sorry if my response is a bit toned-back#but yeah god.....#my first experience seeing him for the first time was through an old crt playing through DBZ Budokai 1#which is why i'm kinda obsessive with that game in particular#i remember one thought at the time being like ''wow dudes can look pretty and dress like that? wow...''#pretty much a core memory into me learning i'm bisexual#also can't say it enough regarding how much i love his monster form. and the voice. and everything.#he's a lot#i'm hoping he gets announced for Sparking Zero soon#the recent trailer mostly showed off characters under the master/trainee theming#so i imagine if they do show off zarbon it's gotta be one involving transformations of some kind right#guess we'll see. i'm curious to see if they have him all in one character or if they split him up#it'll be a little weird but. hey as long as both his forms are there i'm not complaining#just hope that when it comes out (and if he's in it) someone rips his models#zarbon has really bad luck when it comes to being ripped#or atleast on models resource. then again models resource is a big pain in the ass for getting specific models#BUT YEAH. one thing i like that the anime does (and something that stay's permanent to Zarbons design) is making his arm warmers pink#like. it does so much to his design in a way i cannot explain#i've gotten some dreams recently where like. zarbons there but i can never remember to what extent. like i know he was there atleast#its fucked up im afraid.#anyway thank you for the Zarbon ask anon :)#i see a Whole Lot in him. i'd say ''i think he's nice'' but that's underselling how much i crush for him
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pearlymel · 4 months ago
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"Do i look like i can work right now?"
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Summery : he's needy for you and he's not afraid to show it <3
wc : 2k
Warnings : NSFW, fem!reader, ōral (f! recieving), bit of dry humping, making out, protected sex. Petnames used (honey, love, sweetheart.) No plot.
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He was so done for.
Zayne exhaled shakily against your neck, his hands squeezing firmly at the dip of your waist for stability. He sounded needy, he looked needy, it's taking everything in him to not rip your nightgown off.
"You should be resting, but you occupy my every thought." He uttered in a hushed tone, but made no real effort to take you off his lap, instead pulling you even closer using his knee and burying his face on your chest.
"You're practically latched on me, Zayne." The words just rolled off your tongue it was almost infuriating.
Zayne wrapped one arm around your hips, keeping you firmly on his lap as the chair kept rocking back and forth with your combined weight. His other hand traveled up your back, up to your shoulder and neck, pulling you further down so he could nip at your collarbone with a sharp canine.
"You're one to talk, sweetheart. You're not being very cooperative with being treated properly, always gambling your life away—" he sounded frustrated, the last few words coming out in a low grumble.
You ignore his words, instead bringing your hand to playfully pinch at his earlobe before whispering, "is this how you usually treat your patients, doctor?"
"This is..." Unprofessional, he almost said, he knew well there wasn't anything professional about how he was acting with you at the moment. "...An exception."
He then continued to litter your skin with open-mouthed kisses, his hand trailing up to find your nape, tangling his fingers into your hair, playing with the textured strands.
"Is it because I'm that special someone?"
You really have no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Zayne's teeth grazed against your pulse point lightly, his tongue darting out for a brief taste of your skin. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't very affected by you.
"My special someone," he murmured, and can't help the low gasp that escapes his throat when you start rolling your hips against his, feeling himself going dizzy.
"M-my love," he protested weakly, a visible growing tent forming in his bathrobe, making it harder for him to stop himself from pulling you harder against his lap.
He grabbed you by the thighs and leaned back into the backrest, giving you less space to move but a better angle to straddle him instead. "Don't stop," you whisper next to his ear while you try to continue pushing yourself further into him that he had to suppress a moan.
Zayne was sensitive man, being pent up most of the time, so touch straved. "You're a terrible patient, you know that? Insatiable." He managed to get out.
"I'm a different kind of patient," you hum, trailing your fingertips along his visible bare skin of his chest.
He was going to combust if you didn't stop touching him like that.
"You're dangerous." he almost whimpered, his hands moving back to grip your hips, as if to steady them on his lap, but it took every ounce of his willpower not to grind them against his crotch.
God was he done, Zayne finally wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you back down for a crushing kiss. It was less of a kiss and more of a possessive mark, hungry and rough.
He wanted you, needed you, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue delved into your mouth with a greedy swipe, tasting you, as if he was drowning in you and the only thing keeping him alive was your kiss alone.
His breathing grew erratic as his hands slid down from your hips, grabbing the backs of your thighs and squeezing at the flesh, pressing you more firmly against his lap so his obvious hardened cock was rubbing between your legs.
Your sounds were unforgettable, Zayne could never forget them, the gasps and small whimpers of pleasure. He was already gone.
"Goddamn it..." he cursed hoarsely against your mouth, his hands clenching tighter under your thighs, guiding your motions on his lap before bucking up roughly, letting out a quiet groan of his own in the process.
"such a foul mouth, doctor,"
"Don't push it," he grumbled, lifting you up to his waist, "Push it?" You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck as he walked you to his room, and upon the realization, tap on his shoulder, "wasn't i supposed to rest—"
"That doesn't mean you can't rest after, does it?" he responded, moving over to the edge of the bed before slowly lowering you down onto the sheets, his body caging you in between his arms and legs, his form hovering over you.
He wasted no time sliding his hand underneath your silky nightgown to feel your skin, pulling the fabric above your head, guiding your arms up.
Zayne was a weak, weak man. Weak for seeing you like this, glossy eyes, lips slightly swollen from his kiss and the way your chest rose and fell heavily with every breath. Just being able to see you like this alone was a privilege.
He let his hands roam over the curve of your stomach, "so pretty," he muttered, his eyes raking over your form.
He leaned down to graze your neck with a trail of open-mouthed kisses, his lips lingering and nipping the skin, he then slowly traveled down your collarbone and to the valley of your chest, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra the entire time.
"Lift your hips." he commanded quietly, sending a shiver down your spine and heat pooling down as you obliged to his words.
The last thing on you, and Zayne was pulling the fabric out from underneath you, throwing the bra somewhere on the floor, his eyes dark as he raked his gaze over your soft mounds, "I'm never getting tired of this view." he whispered breathlessly, Upon holding your wrists down and claiming your lips again, it was impossible to not be sent into the next cardiac arrest.
Well good think your doctor is always here to tend to you.
"I've.. missed you,"
How was he supposed to hold back when you sounded like that? Your voice coming out in a low, needy whisper that drove him over the edge.
"You need me." he groaned, releasing your wrists so both his hands could run down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties before giving the fabric a tug. He reached over, grabbing one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee, He continued to make a trail kisses up your thigh until he reached right infront of your wet folds.
Zayne looked up when your hand came in contact with his hair while letting out a shuddering breath and a whisper of his name, your gazes heated as he moved his head further down to your core, using one hand to keep your thigh pinned over his shoulder before his eyes fixated on your clit, leaning down to kiss it.
You gasp. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, before he began to suck on your clit, his fingers trailing up to play with your hardened nipples, rolling and pinching them gently with his thumb and forefinger. He hummed when you start squirming, his tongue skillfully flicking and rolling around the bundle of nerves, Zayne didn't stop at just your clit, though.
He trailed his tongue lower, teasing your entrance, and you couldn't help but tug at his hair, hips coming to slowly grind against his face. "Stay still, you're doing well," he praised, his voice low and soft, you best know he's trying so hard not to rut against the mattress from how achy he felt. His tongue sliding in and out, coating it with your arousal. You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building up inside you.
And you think you might pass out when he starts sucking down. It was hard to stay still when you're so close to orgasm, that it was making your head blank, eyes half-lidded and heavy breaths coming out of your lips as you arch your back when you taste the sweet pleasure of your release.
Zayne lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips appreciatively and giving your stomach a few fluttering kisses. "You okay there, honey?" He asked in a low, hoarse voice as he watched how your eyes were still half lidded, and how your draped your arm over your face.
You only nod in return, letting out a low "Mhm,"
He couldn't wait until he was on his knees positioned between your legs, throwing his bathrobe off from his body before reaching down to his painfully hard cock, stroking once, twice, and he had to stop himself because he could most definitely jerk off just by looking at your face, especially when you're naked like this.
Zayne swallowed thickly, shaking his head to himself from any other thoughts before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom, tearing it between his teeth then rolling it on himself, making sure it was on securely before moving between your legs.
He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, staring into your eyes, waiting for you to give him the go-ahead. You nodded, your eyes still heavy with need, and he slowly pushed into you, his cock filling you up inch by inch.
Your jaw hanged, your body adjusting to him, your walls gripping his shaft. He continued to thrust in slowly, "you're the only thing..." He panted breathlessly into your neck, "the only thing i need in my life—" and he continued to rock against you with his thrusts slow and deep.
Zayne was taking his time now, slowly and with intent, he wanted to show you how much this moment means to him, how much you mean to him, how everytime you both have sex, it would feel like the first time every single time.
He lifted his head so that he could look at your face more clearly, his hands running over your sides, tracing the curves and the softness of your body, his fingers touching your skin as if to burn the feel of you into his memory.
His hand then trailed to your left wrist, taking your hand into his to interlace your fingers together, while his thumb brushed over the empty spot on your ring finger.
He internally cursed at himself for not getting you that ring he saw when he was on the way to the hospital. The beautiful gem resting on the window display, calling for him even.
Why didn't he just get it so he could make sure no one would ever look your way when they get the hint of the shiny ring sitting at your left ring finger?
Zayne then picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your voice growing louder, accompanied by his frustrated grunts.
He could feel himself getting close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, "Come on, my love," he urged you desperately, "a-ah, Zayne—!" With a loud moan, you came, your body shaking and your legs convulsing around his waist.
He followed right after, slamming deep into you, his cock pulsing as he came, filling the condom with his hot seed. He held you close, both of your breathings heavy, taking a moment to hold you both close before slowly pulling out to dispose of the condom.
"Still have enough energy for cuddles?"
"Mm, I'd want nothing more than cuddles right now."
A smile formed on his face at your words, gently shifting himself back on the bed so that he was beside you, pulling you into his arms.
He wrapped his arms around you, and he let out a content sigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, his head in the crook of your neck again, inhaling the scent of you, and he realized that he could stay like this forever. "Just a bit more before i clean both of us up.."
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