#I love their forehead kisses but this one was so tender I loved it

[kamitv]

Husband!Sukuna who isn’t sensitive, he swears. But when it’s you? He’s still not sensitive. Just… alert, if you will. Tense even. But not sensitive. Affection starved? Perhaps, but he won’t ever say that to you.

Husband!Sukuna doesn’t even realize how much his body longs for your touch. In the beginning of your relationship with him, he used to curse you out for touching him too often but now? Ever so softly would Sukuna relax after a touch from you.

His favorite touches from you come from when you’re half-asleep.

Early in the morning, practically at the crack of dawn, you’d wake up and turn to your grumpy husband. He’s never truly asleep but he often pretends to be, something you’d picked up on a long time ago.

Even so, he’d feel you move around in the bed but what always gets him is you tossing your leg over him and laying half of your body on top of his, your head using his naked chest as a pillow.

Husband!Sukuna swears he hates when you do that—or that’s what he tells you anyway. Then comes your hand, snaking up his chest, feeling every cut and crease of his abs until you reach his neck.

Then your finger is outlining his jawline. That drives him mad, such a soft and faint touch that makes him swallow thickly as he body struggles not to react to you.

He’s not sensitive. But he is tense.

Following those gentle touches is something you'd never dare to do when you're not in your sleep-induced state. You sit up and comfort yourself right on his lap, thighs spread over your husband, who's currently pretending to be asleep.

Though, his false state of rest falters when you get on top of him, your hands pressed so lightly on his chest and your panty-clad cunt resting right over his rising cock. He really was a simple male at heart, despite not showing it or expressing it much, if ever at all.

Eyes cracking open and settling on you, the woman in which he's decided to claim as his wife, your Husband!Sukuna releases a long sigh and his hands begin to move, finding their rightful place on your thighs.

Your skin is so fucking soft in comparison to his own, rough fingers caressing your thighs as Sukuna swears he's dreaming because just who exactly has given you permission to mount him in such a sexual manner?

"Woman," Sukuna grunts out, "Get off me."

A smile, one that he enjoys seeing deep deep deep down inside, graces your tired features and it makes his body freeze up a little, "Husband," You call out mockingly, "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you look while you're sleeping?"

"No." He answers boringly.

You chuckle and it makes his ears twitch, "Are you aware that even in your sleep your brows tense up?" You murmur to the man as you take one finger and bring it up to his brows, poking the space in between them, "Hm?"

His grouchy facial expression doesn't change, "I am now," He replies, voice raspy and making you squirm slightly in his lap, "Are you aware that after being fucked for five hours straight you wake up the next morning annoying me more than normal?"

Your head tilts as you flash him those loving eyes of yours with a grin far too cheerful for these early mornings, "I'm annoying you?"

"Yes." He deadpans.

"Aw," You weigh forward over your husband and plant a sweet kiss right onto the skin of his tatted forehead, "Love you too 'Kuna."

There's this weird chill that shudders throughout his body as your lips press against his skin and he frowns before muttering, "Get off of me."

Your grin widens and you plant a few more pecks of affection all over his aggravated expression, "Mmmmmh, no."

"Insufferable you are, truly." Sukuna sighs and his big hands travel upward along the softness of your thighs, soothing over your legs back and forth in a way that's almost tender.

Your lips meet his jaw and you lick him, to which he kisses his teeth. "You said the same thing during our wedding night I believe," You remind him.

A thick brow of his arches, "And?"

"I think being mean is your love language." You lean back up and stare down at the full glory of your husband.

Ruby red eyes all low up on you, almost as if you were the only thing worth gazing upon, "Mh." He hums.

The look on your face changes a bit as the sun peeking into your bedroom filters around your sleeping space and casts a warm glow against your grumpy husband's features. You run your hands down his tattooed chest again and whisper his name beneath your breath, "Sukuna..."

He glares at you, like always, and his tone is beyond flat, "Woman."

And suddenly you're smiling, "Ryomen."

"Don't," He huffs before rolling his eyes elsewhere. You only ever call him that when you're about to say-

"I love you."

It's quiet for a long awkward moment, as always whenever you utter those three words to him. Husband!Sukuna can't stand it when you say that. It's such a ridiculous thing for humans to say.

So, instead of saying it back, he just grumbles an (attempted) affectionate, "I tolerate you too."

As always, you're left baffled by the difficulty he finds in saying he loves you too, "I-"

"Now get off me, I won't tell you again." Your husband scoffs with this cute, yet still grumpy, scrunch of his nose.

Just staring down at him makes you want to devour him whole. How can this big softy possibly be the king of curses who many fear to much.

Hell, you don't even hesitate to reply to his order with one of your own, "Make me."

Who would expect anything less from the wife of Sukuna Ryomen, of course you don't follow his every command like everyone else, he married you for that reason exactly. "Testing my patience early today, huh?" Sukuna asks, giving you little to no time to reply before he's moving.

Now, sometimes you forget the sheer size difference between you and your husband. Which is completely okay, he's sure to remind you of it within a few seconds as he flips you over onto your back and pins you down onto the bed below.

Pink hair all ruffled, expression as pouty and irritated as always, like some kinda' big cat, and beefy arms pinning you with a force that's so notably gentle you can't help the smile that sparks across your face.

Giggling too, "Hi Ryo'."

He grits his teeth at the sound of that nickname but the corner of his lips twitch, "....Hi wife." Sukuna say begrudgingly. Then... Then comes your full smile. "Don't make that face, you look foolish."

"I'm smiling?" You snort as your brows meet.

He scoffs, "Foolish."

Your hands rise up to his face to cup in your palms, to which he instantly leans into your touch. "It's okay to soften up every now and then, y'know."

His gaze does exactly that and he presses his cheek further against the warmth of your hands, "This is me softening up."

"You do so very poorly," You tell him honestly.

And to your surprise, Sukuna blinks. "Teach me, then."

"Hm?"

He leans down, past your touch, and whispers against your lips, "Teach me to be soft." He says lovingly before kissing you.

You merely melt into the connection of his lips to yours. Your arms loop around his neck and you hold him close as you pry from him to whisper right back, "It's not hard, just... talk nicer to me."

His eyes narrow skeptically, "Is that truly what you want?"

"I wouldn't mind it, yes." You taunt with a little shrug.

With a heavy sigh, Sukuna repositions his large body in between your legs, "Just for now then."

You look down and scoff lightly, "Hm?"

"I'll be 'soft" while you rid me of this," He continues, pressing the large curve of his hardened cock right against your flimsy panties.

Your eyebrows shoot up and your lashes bat at his words, "Oh, so you're gonna talk me through it for once?"

Sukuna draws his hips back just a little, only to rock the forwards against your warm clothed cunt seconds latter, chuckling cockily, "Don't I always?"

Your lips pull into a thin line, as best as you can, while you glare up at him, "No, you curse me through it."

"You enjoy it," He says with a shrug., working up that delicious friction between his body and yours.

Your gaze wonders elsewhere for a mere moment as you allow your legs to then wrap around his waist and encourage his grind against you. Then, with parted lips and a shaky sigh, "Yes, but it'd be nice for you to talk nicer to me sometimes."

"Mhm," Sukuna nods genuinely. Surely, whatever his wife desires of him... he'll be sure to put forth his best effort in satisfying said desire, "I will try. Now, let's get all this off of you..."

[drewswife]

Hi can you write something with Dad rafe and his baby girl getting ready for bed they are just goofing off then Y/n comes in saying they have to go to bed the baby girl is 2???

if your too busy you don't have too!!!

Summary: Rafe and their 2-year-old daughter Nora goofing off while they are supposed to be getting ready for bed And y/n tells them to go to bed

warnings: fluff, Dad!rafe

A/n: sorry it took me like a day😭 - thanks for requesting 💕

words:1.2k

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

The pink glint of Rafe's flashlight illuminated the already dim room, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Two-year-old Nora, a whirlwind of untamed dark blonde curls and boundless energy, squealed with laughter as Rafe chased her around the room, his long limbs awkwardly navigating the obstacle course of scattered toys.

"Come here, you little monster!" Rafe chuckled, his voice laced with playful exasperation. He lunged, scooping Nora up in his arms and showering her with kisses, making her giggle even harder.

"Again! Again!" Nora shrieked, wriggling in his grasp.

"Okay, okay," Rafe said, lowering her to the ground. "But just one more round, then it's bedtime."

Nora nodded, her doe eyes eyes sparkling with mischief, and took off running again, her tiny feet padding softly against the carpet. Rafe followed, his laughter echoing through the apartment.

Meanwhile, y/n watched the scene unfold from the doorway, a smile tugging at her lips. It was a familiar routine – the nightly stalling tactics, the exuberant playtime that always seemed to erupt just as bedtime approached. But beneath the amusement, a hint of weariness flickered within her. She knew she had to intervene soon, before things escalated further.

"Alright, you two," she said, stepping into the room, her voice firm but gentle. "That's enough playing. It's time for bed."

Nora let out a dramatic wail, flinging herself onto the floor in a fit of mock despair. "No bed! I wanna play!"

Rafe, still grinning, sauntered over to y/n, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug. "Come on, y/n," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. "Just a little longer? She's having so much fun."

"I know, but it's getting late," y/n replied, leaning into his embrace but gently pushing him away. "And you need to get some sleep too. You have that early meeting tomorrow, remember?"

Rafe groaned, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Ugh, don't remind me."

He turned his attention back to Nora, who was still sprawled on the floor, her cries gradually subsiding into whimpers. He knelt beside her, gently stroking her hair.

"Hey, sweetie," he said softly. "It's okay. We can play again tomorrow. But right now, it's time to go night-night."

Nora sniffled, looking up at him with her big brown tear-filled eyes. "But I'm not tired," she mumbled.

"I know, but your eyes are getting heavy," Rafe said, pointing to her fluttering eyelids. "And you know what happens when you don't get enough sleep? You get cranky and grumpy."

Nora pondered this for a moment, her bottom lip trembling. Finally, she nodded, holding out her arms to Rafe. He scooped her up, burying his face in her soft curls.

"That's my girl," he murmured. He carried her over to her bed, tucking her under the covers. Y/n followed behind, dimming the lights and placing a kiss on Nora's forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetie," she whispered. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mommy," Nora mumbled sleepily, her eyes already drifting closed.

Rafe sat on the edge of the bed, watching Nora drift off to sleep. He stroked her hair, a look of tenderness on his face. Y/n stood beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"She's so precious," she murmured.

Rafe nodded, placing a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead. "Yeah, she is," he whispered. He stood up, pulling y/n into his arms. "Now, come on," he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's go to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow."

Y/n smiled, taking his hand. As they walked out of the room, she couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment. Despite the nightly chaos, these were the moments she cherished most – the moments when her little family was together, bathed in the soft glow of love and laughter. And as she drifted off to sleep later that night, she knew that even though bedtime could be a battle, the sweet moments that followed were always worth it.

Taglist: @chrepsi @chrislilcumslvt @drewstarkeyzwhore

If you want to be added comment!

[lumine-inkedfanfics]

ℜ𝔞𝔣𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔩 𝔵 𝔐ℭ: 𝔏𝔢𝔪𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔱

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Synopsis: Your dear fishie boi is in heat? That's the plot :P

TW: smut.

Word count: 680 words

Upload date: 1st February 2025.

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Sticky cum dripping between your thighs, salty sweat coating skin, hair dishevelled. Lips licking against one another, kisses which swallow any noise leaving from your mouth, wanting to keep them to himself. Rafayel was officially in his heat. The urge to lock up and never let his beloved bride go anywhere was making him dizzy.

Your breath, your scent clinking on his skin mixing with his, creating a heady aroma that makes his head spin. Your dilated pupils, which hold his reflection in there. Oh, how he wanted to keep you here. Forget being a hunter. All he wanted was you to be his bride only. Fulfil your duties by being beside him. Give him the life he had to sacrifice aeons ago. Make his wait worth.

Moans bouncing of the walls, his dick so deep in you, his tip having it's own make out session with your cervix. Your womb already filled to brim with his sticky seed.

Yours nails racked his back. "Rafayel- p-please no more, just can't I -" Spots cover your vision, drool leaking from the corners of your mouth, his hard cock throbbing inside you. Thighs quivering, neck and breasts covered in hickies. The colour matching the ones he bought from the paint store.

"My bride, mine- fuckkkkk, no one will have you, I'll fuck you so hard- ngh and rough, no one else will satisfy you. Fuckfuckfuck, gonna g-gonna cum again sweet princess. Gonna fill this womb with my seed." His words were entering through one ear and leaving through the other. And good lord did he look ravishing on top of you. Tufts of purple hair sticking out of place, baby hair clinging to his sweaty forehead, a red mark glowing on his chest. Your train of thoughts was interrupted as he bit the junction of your neck.

His thrust lost it's rhythm, his hips having a mind of it's own. His previous loads leaking out of your well used, gapping entrance. Your lower belly was coiling, you wanted to cum, but it felt really werid this time, as if you are gonna piss. "Raf-rafayel, s-stop! I-i think I need to use the b-ah-throom!"

His hips didn't stop, he knew why you felt like that. Of course, your clit's swollen, your pussy lips puffy, and he's been fucking you for ages, so obviously your overstimulated cunt was going to squirt your heavenly juices out like a fountain.

An unconscious smirk made it's way onto Rafayel's face. A smug grin, like he achieved something.

"Is my beautiful, lovely bride gonna squirt all over on her groom's cock?" while his thrusts became more vigorous. He wanted to see you, loose yourself from the bliss his cock gave you. You felt him nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck, which was now littered with hickies. Soft kisses and tender touches while he moaned against your ears, asking you to let go of yourself to him. He can sense his balls drawing up, his impending orgasm hanging by a thread. The last straw was you moaning his name and begging him to not stop. With one particular thrust, the coil in your belly snapped. Rafayel groaned feeling your tight slick channel clench around his throbbing dick. Your juices spraying on his lower half, the sight was enough to make him cum, deep in your hole, painting your now white insides whiter. You saw stars swimming your vision. He thrusts a few more times, dragging your orgasm as you both slowly calm down. Huffs of breath were inhaled and exhaled as you came down from your high. 

Rafayel placed soft, tender kisses all along your arms and shoulders. His weight, a pleasant feeling on top of you. Slumber welcomes you gently as he pulls out his softening cock. Gently he carries your limp body to the bathroom to give his bride the aftercare she deserves. Before you succumbed to sleep, Rafayel whispers a soft "I love you,  my bride." And with a content sigh and a beyond satisfied session, you give into your much needed sleep. 

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A/n: Hope you guys like this fic! Follow me on Instagram, link in bio to join lads group chat. Comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated.

[heliosunny]

hear me out! Hear me out!

Yandere!husband Anaxa x wife!fem reader

Fem reader as his housewife who is oblivious to his yandere things, she just thinking of him as a overprotective type, she like to shower him with kisses and other affection when he come home from work, prepare food for him to bring to his work. Just wife! Fem reader being a good and loveable wife 🤭.

Ohhhh good point!

Yandere!Anaxa x Wife!Fem!Reader

The morning sun bathed the grand estate in golden light as you hummed softly, carefully packing Anaxa’s lunch. His duties as a strategist to the kingdom kept him endlessly busy, but you always made sure he left with a full stomach and a heart brimming with love. As you sealed the final container, warm hands encircled your waist from behind.

“Darling, you’re spoiling me again” Anaxa murmured, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement as he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

You giggled, leaning into his embrace. “That’s my job as your wife, isn’t it?” Turning around, you cupped his face in your hands, admiring his sharp features and piercing gaze, softened only when he looked at you. “I want you to be healthy. Who else will come home for my kisses if not you?”

Anaxa’s lips curled into a smirk, but his arms tightened around you. “You always say such dangerous things, my sweet wife. You know I can’t bear the thought of being away from you.”

You pouted playfully, standing on your toes to pepper kisses all over his face. “Then hurry home today. I’ll be waiting with dinner, and of course, all the kisses you want.”

His eyes darkened, but you thought it was simply his usual overprotective streak. You never noticed the way his fingers twitched, itching to eliminate anything that dared to steal even a fraction of your affection. With one final, lingering kiss to your forehead, Anaxa departed for the palace, leaving you to your daily routine of keeping the house warm and filled with love.

That evening, as the sky deepened into hues of violet and gold, you stood by the front door, eagerly awaiting Anaxa’s return. When the heavy doors finally creaked open, your excitement turned to concern.

Anaxa staggered inside, his usually composed expression marred by exhaustion. His forehead glistened with sweat, his steps slow and unsteady.

“Anaxa!” You rushed to his side, pressing your palm to his forehead. “You’re burning up!”

He let out a breathy chuckle, though his usual confidence was dulled by his fever. “It’s nothing, my love. Just a long day.”

“Nonsense, you’re sick!” you scolded gently, already guiding him toward the bedroom. “You work too hard. I keep telling you to take breaks.”

He let you fuss over him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you with adoration. You were so utterly devoted, so beautifully oblivious to the lengths he went to ensure your world remained untouched by anything unpleasant.

As you dabbed a cool cloth against his forehead, you sighed. “You’re always protecting me. But who’s going to protect you if you don’t let me take care of you?”

His heart clenched at your sincerity, at the way you loved him so purely despite his countless sins.

With what little strength he had, Anaxa reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. “Only you, my love” he murmured, his fever making his voice raw yet undeniably affectionate. “I belong only to you.”

You smiled, unaware of the weight behind his words. To you, he was simply your devoted, overprotective husband. To Anaxa, you were the sole light in his world, a light he would destroy kingdoms to keep.

That night, you stayed by Anaxa’s side, ensuring he was comfortable as he rested. He was feverish, but the way he clung to you didn’t change. Even in his weakened state, his arms encircled your waist, refusing to let you stray too far.

“Darling, you should sleep” you murmured, brushing damp strands of his hair away from his face.

His eyes flickered open slightly, locking onto you. “Only if you stay.”

You smiled, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

Satisfied with your promise, he finally allowed his body to relax. His breathing steadied, and for the first time that day, he seemed at peace. You continued to stroke his hair, humming softly until you, too, drifted into sleep beside him.

The next morning, Anaxa was still unwell, though the fever had gone down. You insisted he remain in bed, fussing over him with the utmost care.

“You’re not going to work today” you declared firmly, placing a tray of warm porridge and herbal tea on the bedside table. “The kingdom can survive a day without you.”

Anaxa huffed a quiet laugh, clearly amused by your determination. “You truly are the only one who dares to order me around, my love.”

You pouted. “And you always listen, don’t you?”

“Of course” he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your wrist. “Because everything you do is out of love.”

You beamed, pleased with his response, and leaned forward to press a flurry of kisses all over his face. “Good! Then be a good patient for me, alright?”

He sighed in contentment, basking in your affection. His fever may have left his body weak, but the warmth of your love filled him with a different kind of strength, the kind that made him certain he would do anything to protect this life you shared.

Anaxa remained bedridden for the rest of the day, much to his quiet frustration. His body was still weak, his mind dulled by the remnants of fever, but you were adamant that he rest. You spent the morning at his side, feeding him small spoonfuls of warm porridge and herbal tea.

“See? Isn’t it nice to be taken care of for once?” you teased as you dabbed a cool cloth against his forehead.

Anaxa exhaled softly. “If it means you’ll spoil me like this, I might consider falling ill more often.”

You gasped, lightly swatting his arm. “Don’t joke about that! I hate seeing you sick.”

His smirk softened into something more tender as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “And I hate worrying you, my love.”

Your lips curled into a warm smile. “Then get better soon, alright? You’re not allowed to work yourself to exhaustion anymore.”

Anaxa chuckled but didn’t argue. He could never refuse you, not when you looked at him with such pure devotion. As the day passed, you busied yourself around the house, making sure everything was in order while also preparing a nourishing dinner for Anaxa. Every so often, you’d check in on him, pressing your palm against his forehead to ensure his fever didn’t return.

By evening, he was already feeling much stronger. Though you insisted he stay in bed, he stubbornly pulled you into his arms the moment you entered the room.

“You should be resting” you scolded lightly, though you didn’t resist as he held you close.

“I am” he murmured against your hair. “You’re the best medicine I could ask for.”

You giggled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You always say the sweetest things.”

Only for you, he thought. Only you deserved his kindness, his warmth. The rest of the world, those who threatened to take even a fraction of your attention away from him, deserved nothing but his cold, calculated ruthlessness.

Anaxa recovered quickly over the next few days, much to your relief. You resumed your usual routine, preparing his meals, seeing him off to work, and welcoming him home with your endless affection.

Everything seemed normal.

But something was different.

You couldn’t quite place it, but Anaxa had been acting a little… off. He was always protective, yes, but now it felt almost suffocating. His touch lingered longer, his eyes never strayed from you, and whenever you mentioned running errands alone, his expression would darken in an almost imperceptible way.

Then, one evening, the illusion of normalcy finally shattered.

Anaxa returned home late that night, his cloak slightly disheveled, his usual pristine gloves stained with something dark.

You gasped the moment he stepped inside. “Anaxa! You’re hurt!”

Rushing to him, you reached for his hands, but he swiftly pulled them back.

“It’s nothing, my love” he said “Just a matter that needed handling.”

Your brows furrowed. “But your gloves—”

“It’s not my blood.”

That should have reassured you. It should have made you sigh in relief. And yet, a cold shiver ran down your spine at the way he said it, so casually, as if it was an afterthought.

You swallowed, trying to push the unease away. “At least let me clean you up.”

He hesitated for a brief moment before finally allowing you to take his hand. You peeled off his stained gloves, revealing his pale, unscathed skin beneath.

No wounds. No injuries. Just blood.

You tried not to let your hands tremble as you wiped them clean, your mind racing with unspoken questions. Who did this blood belong to? What exactly had Anaxa done today?

You knew he worked as the kingdom’s strategist, handling delicate matters behind the scenes. But you had never questioned the extent of his duties. Not until now.

Sensing your unease, Anaxa suddenly lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His touch was gentle, but his eyes- oh, his eyes were unreadable.

“My love” he murmured, stroking your cheek with his newly cleaned hand. “You trust me, don’t you?”

The way he asked wasn’t pleading, it was a statement, a quiet demand wrapped in velvet.

You hesitated for only a second, and that was enough for his fingers to tighten slightly around your chin.

“Of course, I do” you answered quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. “I just… worry about you.”

Anaxa searched your face for any trace of doubt before his grip softened. “There’s no need to worry” he assured you, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “As long as I am here, nothing will ever harm you.”

His words should have been comforting. But they weren’t. Because as he held you close, whispering sweet promises into your ear, you finally understood. Anaxa wasn’t just protecting you from harm. He was eliminating anyone he deemed a threat—without hesitation, without remorse.

One morning, as you were tidying the house, you noticed that some of your letters were missing—the ones from an old friend who had recently visited the city. You frowned, searching through your drawers. Strange, you could have sworn you left them here.

Before you could dwell on it, the front door opened.

“I’m home” Anaxa’s deep voice rang through the house.

Your thoughts immediately scattered. Smiling, you rushed to greet him, throwing your arms around his neck. “Welcome back, my love!”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you a second longer than usual. “You missed me that much?”

“Always.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling back. “You’re home early today. That’s rare.”

Anaxa hummed, his hand sliding down to rest at your lower back. “I had no reason to linger at the palace. Everything I do is for you, after all.”

His words made your heart flutter, and you laughed, leaning up to kiss him again. “Flatterer. Come sit, I’ll bring you some tea.”

Later that evening, as you set the table for dinner, you hesitated before asking, “By the way, have you seen the letters from my friend? The ones I left in the drawer?”

Anaxa, who was removing his gloves, paused for only a fraction of a second before continuing. “Letters?”

You nodded, glancing toward the desk. “Yes, I wanted to reply, but I couldn’t find them.”

His eyes met yours. Then, he sighed, shaking his head. “I had them disposed of.”

You blinked. “You… what?”

“They were unnecessary.” His voice remained calm, as if he were simply discussing palace affairs. “You don’t need to waste time on people who don’t matter.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure if you heard correctly. “But they were my letters, Anaxa. My friend wrote to me.”

Anaxa exhaled softly, standing from his seat. In two steps, he was in front of you, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers.

“You already have everything you need right here, don’t you? You don’t need distractions.”

You forced a small smile. “You’re really overprotective sometimes, you know that?”

Anaxa’s lips curled slightly. “Only because I love you.”

He kissed your forehead, lingering for a moment before finally releasing you.

You didn’t press the matter further.

But that night, as you lay in bed beside him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Anaxa had decided something for you. And you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to change his mind.

The air between you and Anaxa felt heavier than usual. You tried not to dwell on it, tried to convince yourself that he only acted out of love, but the unease remained.

Still, he was your husband, the man who cherished you, who came home every night to your kisses and warmth. You didn’t want this small rift to linger. So, you decided to mend things in the way you knew best: with love.

That evening, you prepared an elaborate dinner, filling the table with all of Anaxa’s favorite dishes. You carefully arranged everything, ensuring the presentation was perfect.

When he stepped through the door, his eyes flickered in surprise at the sight of the candlelit table.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice smooth yet cautious.

You approached him with a warm smile, wrapping your arms around his waist. “A special dinner for my special husband.”

His gaze softened instantly, and he let out a quiet chuckle.

You led him to his seat, watching as he took his first bite. His expression remained unreadable, but the subtle way his shoulders relaxed told you he appreciated the effort.

As you ate together, you finally gathered the courage to speak.

“Anaxa,” you began hesitantly. “About earlier…”

He set his utensils down. “You’re still thinking about that?”

You exhaled, trying to choose your words carefully. “I just… I want you to understand that my friends aren’t a threat to us. I love you more than anything, but I also have people I care about.”

His expression remained unreadable for a long moment. Then, slowly, he sighed.

“I know.”

You blinked in surprise.

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I know I can be overbearing” he admitted, his voice quieter. “It’s just… I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Even the smallest distractions feel like something that could take you away from me.”

Your heart clenched.

Oh. So that’s what it was.

You reached across the table, gently taking his hand. “Anaxa… you’re not going to lose me. Ever. I chose you. And I’ll keep choosing you, every single day.”

His fingers tightened around yours, and for the first time in days, the tension in his body seemed to ease.

“You promise?”

You smiled, standing up and moving around the table to sit on his lap. He stiffened slightly at first, but you cupped his face, kissing him sweetly.

“I promise.” you murmured against his lips.

Anaxa exhaled slowly, his arms wrapping around you, holding you impossibly close. Perhaps he was possessive. Perhaps his love was intense. But he was yours, just as you were his. And he was more than content.

[rabbitinashell]

Diluc.

DO I HAVE TO SAY MORE??

I can't even begin to explain od how much I love this man bro.. and some other dudes, but shhh.... don't tell them

This time, the artis has been found: they go by the handle of eriimyon, but idk in which platform.

Diluc in the Sheets: Passionate, Intense, and Overprotective

Diluc is a man of fire - both in battle and in bed. He carries himself with discipline and restraint, but once he lets go, expect a heated, overwhelming experience that leaves you breathless.

He's not just about pleasure - he's about claiming, protecting, and making sure you know you belong to him.

1. Gentle, But Possessive

• Diluc starts slow, careful, and respectful - but don't mistake that for weakness.

• Once he's fully consumed by desire, he becomes intensely possessive, gripping you as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

• "You're mine. Say it."

2. Built-Up Frustration, Released in the Best Way

• He spends so much time bottling up emotions - when he finally lets go, he lets go completely.

• His passion is overwhelming, raw, and all-consuming, like a wildfire that can't be tamed.

• Expect deep, searing kisses that leave you breathless and aching for more.

3. Strength & Stamina for Days

• He's physically strong, easily lifting, pinning, and holding you in place like you weigh nothing.

• His stamina is insane - he's used to long, exhausting battles, and he won't stop until he knows you're completely satisfied.

• "I won't stop until I hear you beg for me."

4. Fiery Passion, But Hidden Softness

• Beneath all the intensity and control, there's a deep well of emotion he doesn't show to anyone else.

• He might kiss your forehead afterward, running his fingers through your hair, whispering things he'd never say in the light of day.

• "I'Il always protect you. Always."

5. The Perfect Balance of Rough & Tender

• He can be rough and demanding, but he's also capable of incredible gentleness when he senses you need it.

• Expect firm grips, deep bites, and possessive whispers, balanced with reverent touches and rare, quiet moments of vulnerability.

Bonus: Kinks & Preferences

• Possessiveness & Marking - He leaves evidence - bruises, bites, deep kisses - so you remember who vou belong to.

• Overstimulation - He won't stop until he's sure you've felt every ounce of his devotion.

• Dominance & Restraint - He holds so much back in daily life - that when he lets go, it's overwhelming.

• Praise & Devotion - He adores making you feel wanted, desired, and protected.

• Desperation & Release - He keeps his feelings buried so deep, and when they finally explode, it's like a firestorm.

6. Aftercare: Hidden Softness

• Diluc might struggle with words, but he makes up for it in actions.

• He pulls you close, ensures you're warm, and runs his fingers through your hair - even if he won't say much.

Final Verdict: A Lover Who Burns for You

Diluc is passionate, protective, and utterly consuming - a man who pours everything into the one he loves. He may try to hide his emotions in daily life, but in bed? There's no mistaking just how much he needs you.

[comflexxed]

june felt his breath catch at the sheer tenderness in hans’s words, at the love that wove itself through every syllable, every promise he made not just to june but to the future they would build together. it was overwhelming in the best way — this devotion, this boundless love that they had nurtured between them like the roots of a garden that would never wither.

he let his fingers tighten around hans’s, grounding himself in the moment, in the warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves, in the quiet understanding that there was no other life he wanted but this one, right here, with the man in front of him.

“they will never have to wonder,” june echoed, his voice steady despite the emotion rising in his chest. “not about our love, not about where they belong. we will give them a home that is safe, and that is filled with love in every form.”

his throat felt tight, but it wasn’t sadness — it was the weight of something profound, something that went beyond words. his free hand lifted, brushing away the tears that streaked hans’s cheeks with a touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “we will be everything for them that we once wished for ourselves,” he murmured, his thumb catching another stray tear, his expression softening. “and more. so much more.”

he knew hans understood — knew he felt it just as deeply, the unspoken ache of their pasts, the things they had once longed for and never received. but they had found each other. and that meant they could be something different, something better. not just for themselves, but for the family they would one day have.

june let out a quiet, breathy laugh, his eyes shining as he took in the sheer joy on hans’s face, the way it lit him up from the inside out. “you’re already crying and i haven’t even married you yet,” he teased lightly, though his own eyes burned with unshed tears. his hand found its way to hans’s cheek, cupping it with a tenderness that was endless. “you are going to be the most wonderful husband. the most incredible father. i already know it.”

he smiled, tilting forward until their foreheads touched once more, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “and i can’t wait to marry you either,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to hans’s lips, slow and full of promise. another kiss, this one lingering, this one a vow all on its own.

“i want forever with you.”

hearing june talk about their future children filled hans’ heart with so much warmth, so much love that he didn’t know how to contain within his ribs. it felt like the kind of love that overflowed, that went to every little thing they touched together, this garden, this house, each other. 

he looked on fondly at june, at how he was taking all of this in too, and the teasing made hans chuckle. “they will not be annoyed by it,” he said with a slight pout, his eyes still filled with the quiet affection that he only reserved for june. “we’ll raise them to love flowers, it would be impossible for them to hate any of it.” 

in hans’ mind, it was all so very clear—their wedding day, having their first child, having more children to fill their home with laughter—and it filled him with the assurance that everything was in its rightful place. that everything would work out to give them the future they wanted.

not because they were blessed by some supernatural being, but because they were both willing to work hard for it. a faint “i love you” left his lips as june’s thumbs brushed over the back of his hand, that feeling of safety in this shared moment cloaking him from the sun, from the heat—making the moment just perfect. 

his lips sought june’s for another kiss, a kiss that wasn’t just for them in the present, but also for their future. a promise to their children to always love each other and to be examples of love that can last forever. “and while they are little, we will keep their hearts safe too. we will love them enough for them to never question anything,” he promised, his eyes shedding tears as he thought of things past and future. “they will never, ever, have to wonder if they have our support. they always will.” 

hans knew he could not turn back time, but all he could do was to make sure they learned from what they had experienced. “they will still be our little princes and princesses, but they will be free to pursue their hopes and dreams. and we will be there to guide them. because that is love too.” he leaned in for another kiss, june’s words wrapping him up in a comforting blanket and keeping him steady. even with his cheeks stained with tears, he couldn’t help but laugh. “oh i can’t wait to marry you, my love. i can’t wait for the day.” 

[lazysoulwriter]

Gifts of Desire - Lewis Hamilton.

wc: 1.8k~

Lewis Hamilton knew how to win races, how to command attention, and, most importantly, how to spoil the woman he loved. It wasn’t about showing off; it was about making you feel adored, cherished, and like you deserved nothing but the best. He wasn’t just buying you things—he was buying you moments of happiness, creating memories together, and treating you like the princess you were in his eyes.

It started subtly, with a pair of sunglasses you’d mentioned in passing, a luxurious bag that caught your attention while window-shopping, or a weekend getaway to a quiet villa. Every gift, every gesture, was an expression of how deeply he felt for you, though he never quite put it into words. Lewis wasn’t much for grand declarations; he spoke through action, through the things he bought for you, through the soft touches, and those long, lingering kisses that always left you breathless.

One evening, after dinner at a restaurant where you’d ordered your usual dessert—chocolate fondant—you both took a stroll along the pier. The cool ocean breeze brushed your hair away from your face as he slipped his fingers through yours.

“I’ve been thinking,” Lewis said softly, squeezing your hand. “What would you want if you could have anything?”

You looked up at him, surprised by the question. “Anything?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“Anything,” he repeated with a smile that made your heart flutter.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the idea of having anything at all so tempting. “I don’t know... maybe a new camera? I’ve been eyeing one for a while,” you said, always practical when it came to your passions.

His grin widened. “Done,” he said, pulling you into a gentle kiss. You laughed into the kiss, surprised by how easily he had agreed to something so expensive. He pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “But next time, we’re getting something a little more fun. Something just for you. No practical gifts.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sunk in. You had never expected him to buy you something extravagant, but with Lewis, nothing ever felt out of reach. It was the way he looked at you, like you were worth every ounce of his time, every penny he had ever made, and then some.

Later that week, he invited you over to his place. You’d been texting all day, and when you arrived, he was waiting for you by the door, his trademark grin already on display.

“You’re gonna love this,” he said, stepping aside to let you in.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

He led you to the living room, where an extravagant surprise awaited. On the coffee table sat a large velvet box, but the real surprise was the Tiffany necklace glimmering inside, the delicate diamond pendant catching the light. You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

“Lewis, this is... I can’t take this,” you stammered, overwhelmed by the gesture.

He stepped closer, his voice soft yet insistent. “You’re my everything, baby. You deserve it.”

He reached for the box, pulling it out and gently lifting the necklace from its velvet bed. “Let me put it on you,” he said, his fingers brushing your skin as he clasped the necklace around your neck.

As he stood behind you, admiring the way the diamonds shimmered against your skin, you felt a warmth spread through you, not from the necklace itself, but from the tender way he treated you, how he constantly reminded you of your worth. He wasn’t just buying you things—he was giving you a piece of his heart with every gift, every touch.

He kissed the back of your neck, his lips soft against your skin. “You’re my princess,” he whispered, and you melted into his embrace.

The next few weeks followed in much the same way—surprises here and there, extravagant gestures that left you in awe. He’d call you up and ask what you wanted to do, and when you said, “Nothing special,” he’d find a way to make it memorable. He was always thinking of ways to spoil you, to show you how much he cared.

One evening, as you were curled up on his couch, watching a movie, his fingers lightly traced patterns along your arm. His touch was gentle, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of his skin on yours. Every little touch from him seemed to carry an electric charge, sparking something deep within you.

His lips found your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t just buy you things because I can, you know. I do it because I want to see you happy. Because you make me feel... everything,” he said, his voice hushed.

You turned toward him, your eyes meeting his. You knew he wasn’t just talking about material things. There was more to it, something deeper, something that had only grown stronger with time. You both had your own struggles, your own lives outside of each other, but when you were together, nothing else seemed to matter.

“I love you, Lewis,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

His eyes softened as he cupped your cheek. “And I love you,” he replied, leaning in for a kiss that started slow, tender, but quickly turned into something more passionate, more urgent.

As the kiss deepened, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His lips traveled from your mouth to your neck, his kisses soft but filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

“You’re mine, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he called you his. There was something so possessive, so full of affection in the way he said it, and it made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to him.

He kissed you again, his touch gentle but filled with a need you both couldn’t deny. As he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy.

“Anything you want, you know I’ll get it for you,” he said, his voice low, serious. “Anything, as long as it makes you smile.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his affection for you. “You already do,” you whispered, your heart full, your soul content in his arms.

Days passed, and he continued to surprise you with gestures both small and grand. One night, you were on your way home when he called, asking if you could stop by his place. He’d been working late, but you could sense the eagerness in his voice. As you arrived, you found the place lit only by the soft glow of candles. On the dining table was a beautifully arranged dinner for two, with your favorite dish in front of you.

“Dinner’s ready, princess,” he said, his voice soothing, yet with a hint of playful excitement.

He poured wine for both of you, the glasses glimmering in the candlelight. After you had eaten, you sat on the couch, enjoying each other’s company, the comfortable silence enveloping you. He pulled you into his arms once again, whispering sweet words in your ear as he kissed you.

“It’s all for you,” he murmured, his hands resting gently on your back. “Every little thing I do, it’s because I want to see you happy.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you kissed him back, the passion between you both building once again. You felt like the luckiest person in the world, being with someone who not only gave you extravagant gifts but filled your heart with so much love and affection.

And in that moment, as his lips met yours again, you realized you had everything you needed—his love, his care, and the certainty that he would always be there to spoil you, to treat you like his queen.

[00valentina-writes00]

Hi, I would like you to do one of Ambessa x pregnant female reader and when she is giving birth to male twins And how ambessa helps female readers feed their children (breast milk) By the way, I really like your content ☺️☺️☺️

✞⛧ A Love Born from Strength ✞⛧

Warnings: Contains themes of pregnancy, childbirth, pretend women can get each other preggo, ambessa breastfeeding, you breastfeeding

The heavy air in the birthing chamber was filled with the sharp scent of herbal oils, a faint scent of lavender, and the quiet murmur of voices. It was a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment, where the weight of your breaths pressed against your chest, your body trembling with exhaustion, and your pulse thrumming in your veins. The room was dim, the light of a single candle flickering softly against the stone walls.

Ambessa stood at your side, her hands steady on your shoulders, her presence unshakable. Her usual commanding demeanor had softened into something infinitely more vulnerable as she looked down at you. Her golden eyes never left yours, her brows furrowed with concern, but there was something else—something fierce. Her protective nature was out in full force, and it made you feel both safe and overwhelmed at once.

“You’re doing so well,” Ambessa murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper as she crouched beside you. Her calloused hands held yours, steady and strong, while her other hand brushed a strand of sweat-slicked hair from your forehead. “Just breathe, my love. You’re almost there.”

You nodded, gasping for breath between contractions. The pain, while excruciating, was strangely comforting in its own way—it meant you were close. The twins, your sons, were on the cusp of entering the world.

Another contraction gripped you, and you squeezed Ambessa’s hand tightly, a cry escaping your lips. She didn’t flinch; she simply held you through it, whispering words of encouragement and love.

“Breathe with me. You’re strong, just like I knew you were. Just a little longer.”

You pushed, a loud cry escaping your throat, and within moments, the first twin was born—his small, wailing cry cutting through the tension in the room. Ambessa, her breath catching, watched in awe as the midwife placed the tiny, squirming form into her arms.

A wave of relief washed over you, but it was short-lived as another sharp pain gripped you. “One more, my love,” Ambessa murmured, pressing her forehead to yours as you clenched your teeth through another push.

With one last, desperate cry, your second son was born, his wails filling the room and echoing in your chest. You let out a long breath, relief flooding you. Ambessa’s hands were on you immediately, her warm touch grounding you as she gently held the second twin against her chest.

Both twins were perfect—healthy, tiny, and full of life. Ambessa kissed your forehead with a reverence that melted your heart, her voice thick with pride. “We did it. They’re here.”

As the midwife took care of the necessary clean-up, Ambessa remained by your side, her gaze flicking between you and the babies. Her eyes softened as she looked at the two tiny forms in her arms—your sons, the product of your love. The fierce, no-nonsense general who had commanded armies now looked like a mother in the most vulnerable way. Her love for you, for them, was palpable.

One of the twins, the first-born, was passed into your arms, the soft weight of him settling against your chest. His small hands gripped your fingers instinctively as he let out a little cry. Ambessa sat beside you on the bed, her arms gently cradling the other twin, her gaze never leaving you.

“I’ll help you,” she said quietly, her voice laced with tenderness as she placed the second twin in your lap, making sure you were comfortable. “You’ve been through so much, let me take care of one.”

With gentle hands, Ambessa guided the second twin toward her breast, her eyes warm with love as the baby latched on. You watched in awe as she effortlessly fed the first of your sons, her strong and capable hands holding the baby close to her chest.

“Let me know if you need anything, love,” Ambessa said, her voice steady, as she gently brushed your hair back from your face. “We’re in this together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you began to nurse your own son. His tiny mouth pressed eagerly to your breast, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. You and Ambessa, both mothers now, were united in this quiet, tender moment.

Ambessa’s gaze never left you as you fed the second baby. The connection between the two of you was undeniable—your twins were part of both of you. She shifted to adjust herself as she continued to feed her son, her large, muscular frame looking somehow soft in that moment. There was something deeply intimate about seeing her care for him with such dedication, such tenderness. Her usual stoic demeanor was replaced with one of adoration. Every touch, every brush of her fingers, was deliberate, filled with love.

“You’re so perfect, my son,” Ambessa whispered, her voice soft as she looked down at the baby in her arms, her lips brushing his forehead. The sight of her so vulnerable, so full of love, made your heart swell.

The two of you continued like that for some time, nursing your children, keeping them close. Ambessa adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable, and you could see the slight exhaustion in her eyes, though it was mixed with pride.

“I never thought I would see this day,” Ambessa said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve seen many battles, led many people, but this… this is different.”

Her words touched something deep inside of you, and you reached out to hold her hand, pressing your lips to her knuckles. “I never thought I’d be here, either,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “But we’re here. Together.”

Ambessa squeezed your hand, her grip strong but gentle. “Together,” she echoed, her voice low and steady.

The room was quiet except for the soft, rhythmic sounds of your children suckling. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Ambessa—usually the picture of strength—so tender and protective as she cared for her sons.

The next few days passed in a blur of diaper changes, late-night feedings, and quiet moments. Ambessa was there for every part of it, her strong hands always supporting you. She was an anchor, steady and reliable, always ready to lend a hand when you needed it.

As the weeks went on, you both found your rhythm—Ambessa feeding one twin while you took care of the other. You had never felt so connected, so in sync with each other. Your bond, already strong, had deepened in a way that only parenthood could bring. Watching Ambessa care for your sons, holding them close to her chest, her protective nature on full display, made you fall even more deeply in love with her.

She always made sure you had everything you needed. She would bring you water, food, and blankets, and she’d often whisper sweet words of encouragement in your ear when things got tough.

“You’re doing an incredible job,” she would say, her voice rich with pride. “They’re growing strong because of you.”

There were moments when you would simply watch her interact with the twins, her hands gentle as she cradled them, her voice soothing as she rocked them to sleep. You marveled at how she, the fierce warrior, was so tender and caring when it came to your children. The thought that you had made these beautiful lives together made your heart swell with love.

As the twins grew older, the bond between the three of you only strengthened. Ambessa, always the protector, was fiercely devoted to her sons, and you felt the same sense of protectiveness. Your love for each other had created life, and that life was the most precious thing in the world.

[gottencents]

Superstar - Jennie Kim

pairing. idol!jennie x girlfriend!reader

synopsis. after her concert, jennie rushes backstage, still buzzing with adrenaline, and spots y/n waiting for her.

The deafening roar of the crowd still echoed in Jennie’s ears as she practically sprinted off stage, her heart pounding from the adrenaline of performing. Her lungs burned, her body was buzzing with exhaustion and exhilaration, but none of that mattered. Not when she knew exactly who was waiting for her just past the curtain.

Y/N.

Jennie barely registered the congratulatory pats on her back from the staff and her members’ laughter as she practically shoved past them. All she could think about was getting to her.

And then she saw her—leaning against a table in the backstage lounge, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her lips. Y/N had changed out of the all-black outfit she’d worn to blend into the crowd earlier, now dressed comfortably, but Jennie thought she still looked unfairly good. Her presence alone made Jennie’s already racing heart kick up a notch.

Without a second thought, Jennie rushed forward, closing the distance between them in seconds.

Y/N barely had time to react before Jennie practically launched herself into her arms, wrapping herself around her like a koala. “I did it,” Jennie breathed against her neck, her arms tightening around Y/N’s shoulders.

Y/N chuckled, steadying them both as she hugged her back. “Of course, you did, superstar,” she murmured, her hands smoothing over Jennie’s back. “You were incredible.”

Jennie pulled back just enough to look at her, her hands coming up to frame Y/N’s face. “You watched the whole time, right?”

Y/N smirked. “Front and center. Best view in the house.”

Jennie narrowed her eyes. “Liar. You were backstage.”

Y/N shrugged, pretending to think about it. “Still a great view.”

Jennie huffed, but before she could argue, Y/N ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away the slight sheen of sweat from her performance. The gesture was so tender that Jennie felt her breath hitch.

And then, without another word, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Y/N’s in a kiss that was desperate, urgent—like she had been holding back all night.

Y/N immediately responded, one hand sliding down to rest on Jennie’s waist, the other tangling into the ends of her hair. Jennie melted into her touch, letting herself be held, letting herself feel grounded after the whirlwind of performing in front of thousands.

When they finally pulled away, Jennie let out a breathless laugh, her forehead resting against Y/N’s. “God, I missed you.”

Y/N smiled, running a hand up and down her back. “You saw me before the show.”

Jennie pouted, her arms still wrapped around Y/N’s neck. “Not the same. I couldn’t do this before the show.”

Y/N chuckled. “Well, I’m here now. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

Jennie’s face softened, her eyes shining with something deeper than just post-performance exhaustion. She opened her mouth to say something, to tell Y/N just how much she meant to her, how having her here made every moment of the tour feel more bearable—but before she could, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the room.

“Get a room!” Lisa’s teasing voice rang out, followed by Jisoo’s laughter and Rosé’s dramatic gagging noise.

Jennie groaned, burying her face in Y/N’s neck again. “They’re the worst,” she muttered, voice muffled against her skin.

Y/N only laughed, resting her chin on top of Jennie’s head as she held her close. “Yeah, but you love them.”

Jennie sighed dramatically, but there was no real annoyance in her tone. “Unfortunately.”

Lisa clapped her hands together. “Alright, lovebirds, as much as I love seeing Jennie act like a clingy puppy, we have a whole afterparty to get to.”

Rosé smirked. “More like Jennie has a girlfriend to get to.”

Jisoo grinned. “I give them five minutes before they sneak out.”

Jennie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she only held Y/N tighter, already dreading the moment she’d have to let go.

Y/N kissed the side of her head and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jennie smiled, feeling something warm settle in her chest. She knew, no matter how chaotic her life got, Y/N would always be there waiting for her.

[inkdrinkerworld]

In response to your post,

Thinking about poly!marauders and how they’d know you’re having a bad day before you can even say it because they know you better than you probably know yourself.

Unless you’re the type of person that likes to talk about it, they won’t even say anything, just pamper you.

James would 100% make a last minute grocery trip so he could cook your favorite meal.

Sirius would cuddle you all night long and always be touching you in some way to provide comfort.

And Remus would draw a relaxing bath that’s equivalent to being at a spa.

I’m thinking lots of tender kisses to the forehead, soft voices, and the sweetest declarations of love and care.

If you decide to talk about it they will be the most attentive listeners. Sirius would 100% be engaged, responding with gasps, coos, groans, and angry declarations of beating someone up if they’ve hurt you. Remus would be quiet until you’re done talking and then drop the most earth shattering wisdom or the most comforting words ever. And James would be providing all sorts of physical support- rubbing your back, holding your hand, pushing hair away from your face, pulling you onto his lap, etc.

By the end of the day you’d totally forget about the bad day you’ve had.

Manifesting this for you love, and I hope you feel better soon<3

James has you in his lap with your stuffed bear loosely in your hold as you cry into his thigh.

“Hey, ease up a bit in the tears poppet. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Sirius strokes your hair as Remus brings in a bowl of your favourite for dinner.

“It’s all over now, hm? You’re home and we’ve made your favourite for tea and Remmy will give you one of his amazing massages before bed.”

Remus nods when you look up with teary but hopeful eyes.

“Course I will, but you’ve got to eat something first.”

You nod, your bear clutched tight in your hold as you sit up. “Thank you guys,”

Sirius tuts, kissing your sticky cheeks just before Remus passes you the bowl of warm dinner.

“It’s nothing, baby,” he levels you with a look when you go to argue. “What do you say we look at ‘Christopher Robin,’ hm?”

You perk a little, “Really?”

James chuckles, arms a little tighter around you as Remus and Sirius shuffle about on the sofa to sit beside you both. “Yes really, angel.”

By the time you’re a third of the way through the movie, Remus is already giving your legs a massage and you’re basically asleep on James’ lap.

It doesn’t stop his hand from coasting up and down your back or his lips from pressing into your temple.

“Reckon I could make her breakfast in the morning, something special.” He murmurs to Remus, Sirius is already falling asleep on James’ other thigh with his fingers tangled in your hair.

“That’d be sweet Jamie, what’re you thinking?”

James looks down at you, upset by your bad day but pleased he and your other boyfriends have helped.

“Maybe crepes, haven’t made them in a bit. Could start the batter tonight and everything.”

Remus presses a kiss to his lips with a fond smile. “You’re sweet, she’ll love that.”

James is all flushed but knows that Remus is right- you will love it. “Dunno how I’ll slip out from under them but the second I’ve figured that part out I’ll get it started.”

Remus chuckles softly, softening when you stir a little. “Sleep sleep, love.”

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part nine

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

Your eyes focused on Rafe's scrub cap; the cartoon sharks grounded you and the thought almost made you giggle, the mere notion that something totally unrelated to who he was as a person, or something as childish as a cartoon animal being able to put you at ease was genuinely laughable. The operating room was the same as before, except, this time you were less afraid, knowing Rafe had seen you through this two times prior helped ease the anxieties that come along with surgery. He was dressed in seafoam colored surgical garb as he stood above you, tenderly rubbing your head, which was covered in a medical grade hair net, remnants of him were left against your skin in the form of tender kisses. 

“You doing okay, sweet girl?” 

He asked, more worried about your mental state than the physicality of it all. 

“I’m okay, sweet boy. So glad you’re here with me.” 

You smiled tenderly and he brushed his hand across your cheek, caressing the skin there for a moment. 

“Okay, sweetheart, count backwards from a hundred for me. Next time you open your eyes you’ll be cuddled up next to me, sweet girl.” 

He said, placing the oxygen mask over your face. 

-

“I hate this part.” 

Your groggy slurred words scared Jenni half to death as she stood by your bed, checking your vitals and notating them in your chart. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” 

Your eyes were still closed as Jenni brought her palm to your forehead. She looked down at you and smiled at the pout that your bottom lip sat in. 

“y/n, can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?” 

She probed you again and you obliged, blinking your eyes slowly open for a moment before gaining enough of your bearings that your vision was no longer blurry. You take note of the pink tulips at your bedside with the words pretty girl scribbled on a card in your favorite person’s handwriting and smile to yourself; for a brief moment, you search the room for your most prized possession – him. 

“Where’s Rafe?” 

You questioned, voice shaky as sadness infiltrated your heart; his promise of being near when you awoke heavily sitting in the forefront of your mind. 

“He’s grabbing you some things, sweet girl.” 

“W-what? He’s not here? H-he said he’d be here. He’s coming back, right?” 

The sight of you almost broke her heart into a million pieces and she wondered what you meant – didn’t you know how much he loved you? He couldn’t possibly leave you here, he couldn’t possibly leave you at all. She watched as the tears collected in your eyes and spilled over your eyelashes, leaving streaky tire marks across the dirt field of your cheeks. Her hand met your forehead, rubbing the skin and your hair as she soothingly rubbed back and forth. You closed your eyes tightly as a wave of pain passed over you and a whimper escaped your lips. 

“Sweet girl, he’s coming right back, okay? I’m going to check the ice machine. Do you want some medicine?” 

She questioned, feeling next to helpless. As a nurse, she knew how to take care of someone in pain, but you were different. How can you take care of someone when their pain relief comes in human form? 

“Please.” 

One singular word left your lips; a whimper and whisper met like the tide and the sand. Jenni sat on the rolling stool, checking the ice machine to make sure the cold water was flowing into the pad that was secured to your knee by velcro straps. Once she felt confident that it was doing its job, she moved to your iv, inserting morphine into the line that connected to the vein in the top of your hand. 

“You’re going to feel better soon, sweetheart. I promise.” 

She cooed, sliding the stool against the white speckled gray flooring to be close to your upper half again before slipping the latex gloves that covered her hands off and into the trash. She rubbed the top of your head again and slid her opposite hand into yours. 

“Just sleep, sweet girl. You’ll see Rafe so soon. I promise.” 

-

Rafe came into your room not long after you fell asleep again, jeans, a gray t-shirt and a green cargo jacket covered him. His hands were filled with food — the world's best tomato bisque soup from your favorite Italian restaurant. Amongst the food in his grasp, he carted more of his shirts, shorts, and sweatpants for you to wear. He wanted you to feel comfortable but also for changing clothes to be easy for you and he couldn’t think of anything easier than clothes big enough to fit over the black brace that lined your leg. He dropped everything in the corner of the room, the food on the table and the clothes in the ugly plastic chair before he made his way over to you. Your delicate, soft features as you slept always made his stomach do backflips but there was something about knowing how sad you were in his absence that tugged at his heart strings. When he got the call from jenni that you had been crying and asking if he was coming back, it sent his caring nature into overdrive. 

“pretty girl” 

he whispered, his hands running delicately across your rosy cheeks. He didn’t get so much as a grunt in response and while he hated to wake you, you needed to eat. 

“Sweetheart, can you wake up for me?” 

he probed you again, his hands moving from your cheeks to your hair. As your eyes popped open and you took in the cerulean eyes that had become the wonder of your world, you let out a broken sob. 

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter, angel? Are you hurting badly?” 

He questioned, his brows furrowing as the tears leaked out of your eyes. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come back.” 

You muttered and his eyes went wide, moving quickly to get into the bed your frame laid in, curling body against yours until your head laid on his chest. 

“Baby, I'm always going to come back. Don’t you know that by now?” 

He asked in a hushed tone as he laid kisses against your head. 

“I know, but I wish you never had to leave to begin with.” 

Your statement shocked him, he knew he felt that way but he never imagined the feeling was mutual and at that moment he decided if he was really going to give love a second shot he had to stop thinking and just do. So he asked you the unthinkable. 

“Baby, would you want to move in with me? I know this might seem sudden because we’ve only been at this for a few months, but I want to take care of you and I don’t want to be without you ever again.” 

Rafe rambled and you stopped him with a kiss to his lips; soft and sweet yet aggressive enough to tell him to shut up. 

“Rafferty, of course I would.” 

You smiled, leaning back against his chest and you couldn’t help feeling like you had waited your whole life for — this. 

The day after your surgery, you woke up in Rafe’s arms, his forehead sat against your temple as his soft snores broke through your sleepy haze. One of his hands was draped across your waist while the other cradled your head. You breathed in his warmth, his smell was your favorite and having him in such close proximity after the weight of his question made your heart swell. He wanted you to move in with him. Despite all your earliest fears about none of this being real, about the stupid schoolgirl crush you had on your doctor, he had proved to you that this was real, that he was real and that he wasn’t going anywhere. You couldn’t help but be thankful for the road that led you here – the man you had always prayed for wrapped around you. You were brought out of your thoughts as Jenni made her way into the room. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” 

You were brought out of your thoughts at the sound of Jenni’s voice. She smiled from ear to ear, setting down the vials of medicine on the top of the table at your bedside. 

“Hey, J.” 

You whispered, throat still hoarse from the assault on your windpipe that being intubated for surgery created. She moved quickly, pouring water from the pitcher into a cup that sat next to the medicine she placed on the table. She plopped a straw into the liquid, before pinching the top of it with her gloved hand and bringing it to your lips. You drank furiously, gulping the cool drink down, marveling at how wonderfully it soothed your aching throat. 

“Is that better, baby girl?” 

She asked and you nodded, doing your best not to move too hastily in an attempt to keep the beautiful man next to you in his peaceful slumber. 

“It hurts.” 

You whimper, your lips moving into a pout as your eyes darted to Rafe’s sleeping form again. You wanted so badly to wake him long enough for him to whisper the reassurances that you needed, but you couldn’t. Rafe was tired after months of watching over you and putting you first and now, it was your turn. 

“I know, sweetheart. Do you want me to wake him up?” 

She questioned.

“No, let him sleep. He never sleeps.”

She nodded in response, knowing the truth behind your words. 

“I’m giving you some medicine, now and when Rafe wakes up we’ll get your knee moving, okay?” 

You acknowledge her with a nod and turn your head toward Rafe, placing a kiss on his forehead before closing your eyes and sleep overtaking you as his warmth radiated against your skin. 

-

Rafe awoke with a start; the same nightmare that he had grown accustomed to shaking him to his core ��� you and Molly infiltrated even his deepest subconscious dream state – a kaleidoscope of images of the deaths of the two women he loved had burrowed into his brain like a cat making a home out of a cardboard box. He quickly understood what his brain had conjured up wasn’t reality as he took in the delicate, soft features of your sweet face as you slept. Soft snores made their way out of your mouth and he smiled softly to himself, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. Jenni made her way into the room just as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. 

“Good to see you’re up, how’s she doing?” 

Jenni asked, as Rafe pulled his head back from yours and moved slowly away from your grasp and out of the bed, throwing on the t-shirt he discarded onto the floor the previous night. 

“Still sleeping. It was a long night, she was in pain for most of it.” 

He responded, sadly. Though as a physician and a surgeon and a previous patient, he knew what kind of pain surgery brought on, he didn’t realize how much it would hurt him to see you in this state again. 

“Yeah, she was hurting pretty badly this morning when I came in.” 

He looked at your sleeping form again, a frown displayed on his features as he reached his head down and planted a kiss against your nose while simultaneously rubbing the top of your head. 

“This sweet girl has had a rough couple of months, Jenni. But, we’re in the home stretch, now. A couple more days and I’m taking her home. Have you talked to anyone in orthopedics who will bring up the cpm today?” 

“Sure have, boss, they’ll have a device rep come up as soon as she’s awake.”

He moved closer to Jenni pulling her in for a bear hug. 

“You’re a godsend, Jen.” 

He pulled away smiling as he rubbed up and down the sleeves of her scrubs. 

“You know I’d do anything for our girl, Rafferty.” 

“I know, Jen, me too.” 

He whispered in response as he continued to stare at your sleeping form. 

-

Almost two hours later, you had finally fully woken up and Rafe laid with you, your head on his chest as you took in deep breaths. The warmth of his chest was the only thing that could bring you comfort in your current moment. Your leg was sat on two pillows, lined with a black brace that extended from your thigh to your ankle with four buckles that kept it completely straight. Underneath the brace, your knee was covered in bandages and dressings, an ace wrap and the attachment to the ice machine sat on top of them keeping the swelling down as much as possible. You continued to take in Rafe as he ran his fingers through your hair, looking up at his sculpted jaw you couldn’t help but thank your lucky stars you had him to walk through the last few months with you. Even when you couldn’t physically walk, he was your constant, supporting the both of you on his own two legs; physically and figuratively. 

“Rafe, what’s the machine that they’re supposed to be bringing for?” 

You met his eyes; the cerulean blue of them complimenting the bruises that lined your body, as they always had. His hand came up to your head, fingers intertwining into your hair like the thorns mixed in the vine of a rose. 

“It’s just going to get your knee moving, baby. That way, it’ll make therapy easier in the long run and we can get your muscles woken up quicker.” 

He responded, kindly. But, the fear in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I-is it going to hurt?” 

His eyes softened, knowing the amounts of pain you had been through in the last few months was overwhelming and your body is tired. 

“Yeah, baby. It’s going to hurt a little bit. I had to use one in college. But, this should be easy for you. It won’t be physically blinding pain like you felt during your pelvis recovery, it'll be more like stiffness and your muscles not wanting to move.” 

You nodded in response, whispering a frail “okay” against his fingertips as you moved your face toward them, kissing his knuckles. You looked back up to him, his baby blue eyes keeping you in a trance for what felt like forever and all you wanted to do was stay there with him forever. You were brought out of your trance as Jenni and the medical representative walked in and Rafe moved from the bed in pursuit to help them get the cpm set up and your knee moving as quickly as possible. Rafe lifted your leg up by the ankle, holding it in the air while they moved the pillows and put the machine in their place. 

 The continuous passive movement machine was your least favorite thing ever in existence. It was simple really, you laid your leg in it and it moved your knee slowly to aid in waking your muscles up and getting the blood flowing to your new ligaments. While it was simple in theory, the physicality of it was painful and as Rafe stood, the remote in his hands setting it to the lowest setting, he felt powerless as you cried at the movement. He made his way to the top of your bed, standing beside you, hands on your shoulders and hair, rubbing soothingly as he whispered sweet words about how proud he was of you. This is how you were going to spend the next six weeks; flat on your back with your leg in this horrible contraption for six to eight hours a day. You groaned in frustration as Rafe’s hands moved against your skin. 

“I know, baby. I know it hurts.” 

He whispered against your hairline, pulling back as the pads of his thumbs wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“Rafe, I’m just — I want to go home.” 

You replied, tears in your eyes as you pleaded with the man you loved to get you out of the sterile environment you had become accustomed to for so many months. 

“We’re going home tomorrow, baby. I promise.” 

He said, his lips meeting the sweet spot behind your ear. 

-

You sat on the bed, as Rafe slid his basketball shorts up your legs. He was gentle and easy, pulling you up and onto your good leg as he pulled the shorts over your hips. Once he did, he sat you back down on the bed for a brief moment. Rafe came through with his promise, preparing you for the transport to his apartment; the apartment that now, the two of you would share. 

“You ready, baby?” 

He asked, kneeling on the balls of his feet in front of you. You only nodded in response, your stomach churning the butter that was your insides as he lifted you bridal style, placing you into the wheelchair and wheeling you out of the room, for what you hoped would be the last time. He made it to the edge of the curb, where his truck was parked, opening the back passenger side door and sliding you in and making you comfortable. 

“Let’s go home, pretty girl.” 

He said, giving the foot that sat on two pillows a gentle squeeze before making his way to the driver’s seat. 

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[casedclosedbye]

The Scent of her

Spencer reid x reader

Fluff

Wc: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid, the brilliant but often reserved mind, has found something that makes him feel alive. It's not the cases, not the logic or the numbers. It’s her. The scent of her skin, the feel of her in his arms, the way she’s become the steady heartbeat of calmness within him.

The alarm blares, but Spencer doesn’t move right away. His eyes remain closed as the sound fills the room, his body still in that warm cocoon of sleep. He’s not even aware of it at first, but then it hits him—the soft scent of her skin, mixed with the faint trace of her lavender perfume.

His fingers, almost instinctively, find their way toward the space beside him. The sheets are cool, but there’s a trace of warmth where she’s been, an imprint that lingers even when she’s not there. He inhales, taking in the air around him. The familiar, comforting scent fills his lungs—her scent.

Spencer, always the one to overthink everything, doesn’t want to leave the bed. Every morning, it’s harder and harder for him to break free from the desire to stay wrapped up in her. The world outside his apartment feels so far away, so far removed from the simple peace he finds in her presence. The thought of work, the case files, the day ahead—it all seems insignificant in comparison to how much he loves being here, in this small, quiet moment with her.

He shifts carefully to avoid waking her, but his movements are slow, deliberate, as he lets himself breathe her in one more time. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, even the lingering traces of the perfume she wears—it all pulls him in. He’s so used to the antiseptic cleanliness of the world outside that her scent, natural and uniquely hers, is like a balm to his soul.

When her eyelids flutter open, his heart jumps. He doesn’t even have to see her face to know she’s awake. Her scent has already enveloped him, her presence a tangible thing in the room. He smiles softly, wanting to reach for her, needing to.

But instead, he simply turns toward her, his eyes locked on hers. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. The bond between them is more than words. It’s the way he leans into her, the way his hands instinctively move to trace the curve of her back. He’s a little more possessive in the mornings, a little more clingy than he might be in front of others. There’s something about these early moments when the world is still sleeping, and it's just the two of them.

Her fingers run through his messy hair, and that’s it. Spencer can’t stop the needy little sigh that escapes his lips. Her scent, her touch, they anchor him in a way that nothing else does. “Stay,” he mutters against her skin, his voice barely a whisper. His lips press against the soft skin of her neck, inhaling deeply.

She laughs softly, her fingers brushing against his arm. “I have to go, Spencer. You have work too.”

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, almost childlike in his tone, clinging to her a little tighter. “Please. Just a few more minutes…”

Her laugh is warm, but there’s a tenderness in it as she presses her lips to his forehead, a soft kiss that makes him feel like he could stay there forever. He’s never been this clingy with anyone—not even with his mother or any of his past relationships—but with her? It’s different. Everything about her makes him feel safe. She’s the one thing in his life that doesn’t make him feel so… out of place.

He doesn’t care how pathetic it might seem. He’s needy for her touch. He wants to absorb every inch of her, hold onto her like he’s afraid she might disappear if he lets go. Her scent has become a tether. Her presence is what calms his swirling mind, the constant hum of thoughts that never quite stop.

The day drags on. Spencer’s head is filled with the case, the details, the analysis, but it’s her scent that’s never far from his mind. It’s like a drug to him—soft, comforting, addictive. He can still feel the faint remnants of her perfume on his skin from their morning together. It lingers in the fabric of his shirt, in his hair. Every now and then, when he absentmindedly brushes his fingers through his hair, the scent hits him again, and it makes his chest ache with longing.

His thoughts drift to her, and his eyes search the office for a moment, only to find himself lost in the feeling of her presence. His gaze lands on the elevator, waiting for that moment when she’ll show up, when he can see her again, even if only for a few minutes. He hates the distance of the day, the hours between their stolen moments. He feels almost frantic about it—like the longer he’s away from her, the more he’s going to lose something.

And then the elevator dings.

His heart skips a beat before he can even register what’s happening. The scent hits him first—faint but unmistakable—like the first breath of fresh air after being stuck inside for too long. It’s like a magnet, pulling him in.

She steps out, and Spencer’s breath catches. Her presence floods the room, and he doesn’t even wait. He stands up immediately, his body moving of its own accord. Her scent is everywhere—the lavender, the citrus, her skin—and it’s all he can do to keep from reaching out for her, to wrap his arms around her and just breathe her in. The thought of her absence today had been unbearable, and now that she’s here, standing in front of him, he’s not sure how to contain the rush of relief that surges through him.

His fingers itch to touch her. He doesn’t wait for her to say anything, doesn’t wait for her to move toward him. He steps forward and cups her face with his hands, pulling her toward him with a sudden intensity that catches her by surprise. His lips meet hers in a soft, almost desperate kiss, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of her, every molecule of her presence.

“I missed you,” he breathes against her lips, his voice thick with an emotion that’s almost too raw. “I can’t think straight when you’re not near me.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, just smiles gently, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. Spencer’s body relaxes a little at the touch, but only slightly. His arms find their way around her waist, holding her to him tightly as if afraid she might slip away.

“Spence,” she whispers softly, her hands tracing over his arms, the feeling grounding him. “I’m right here.”

He nods, not wanting to let go. He wants to stay like this, tangled up in her arms forever. The way she smells, the way she feels in his arms—it’s like everything else fades away. The noise of the office, the world outside—they don’t matter when he’s with her. Her scent fills his lungs, and he feels like he can finally breathe.

Later that night, when Spencer finally returns home, he can’t help but feel the weight of the day on him. But it’s different now—her presence is there. She’s sitting on the couch, watching TV, but her eyes flick to him as he walks through the door, her smile soft, inviting. The minute he steps into the apartment, it’s as if the air shifts. His senses are heightened, his mind flooded with the calming warmth of her.

“I thought I’d wait up for you,” she says, her voice low and warm.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he steps toward her, and without a word, he sinks down beside her, curling into her side like a child looking for reassurance. Her scent wraps around him, and for the first time in hours, he feels like he can relax.

“You always smell so good,” he mutters, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over her skin. He can’t help it. Her scent is all-consuming, and he finds himself pressing his face into her neck, inhaling deeply. “I can’t stop thinking about you… about the way you smell. It’s like I’m addicted to it.”

Her hand gently runs through his hair, and he leans into her touch, his arms tightening around her. He needs her. He needs her scent, her touch, the feeling of her body next to his. Everything about her makes him feel whole.

“I don’t want to let go,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not ever.”

She simply presses a soft kiss to the top of his head, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him even closer. And Spencer lets himself sink into her embrace, his body perfectly molded to hers, the scent of her wrapping around him like a protective cocoon. In this moment, he doesn’t care about anything else. The world can wait.

As long as he has her—her scent, her touch, her love—nothing else matters.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 approaching intimacy with their pregnant s/o

Request: Hiii! Can you please do a Ot13 about like their intimacy and sex life during your (their s/o) pregnancy? Also like what if they do intiniate sex or you do? Or like what will they do? What matters the most to them, what intimacy is to them, how much they prioritise it and all that

A/N: Sorry for making you wait. Surprisingly, had to think about it for a long time lol.

Content: This post discusses intimacy, relationships, and pregnancy, including emotional and physical dynamics. Please proceed if comfortable with these topics.

Seungcheol: As the dependable partner, Cheol would prioritize your comfort above all else. He's deeply attuned to your needs and emotions, always checking in to ensure you're okay. If you initiated, he'd pause to check if you’re sure, then take a slow and sensual approach, ensuring it’s all about your comfort. So when it comes to intimacy, he’s incredibly gentle, making sure you feel cherished and respected. He’s a firm believer in physical touch, often holding your belly while talking to your baby. Even if sex takes a backseat, cuddling and affectionate gestures remain a constant.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan thrives on teasing you in the sweetest way. He enjoys reminding you how beautiful you are, even if you're feeling less than your best. When it comes to intimacy, he’s slow and (also) sensual, taking his time to make you feel adored. He wouldn’t initiate often unless he could tell you wanted to but would at first somewhat tease or flirt to gauge your mood. If you initiated, he’d smirk and tease you a little but would be fully attentive, ensuring you’re comfortable every step of the way. He’s also playful, making you laugh during vulnerable moments. He’ll happily trade physical intimacy for massages or rubbing your feet when you’re too tired.

Joshua: I believe Shua takes a tender and romantic approach, always asking for your comfort levels before initiating anything. I'm telling you again, he will ALWAYS CHECK in with you before initiating anything. He’s incredibly patient, prioritizing your well-being over his needs. Sex during pregnancy is more emotional than physical for him. If you initiated, he’d smile softly, taking it as a sign of trust and will do whatever you want him to do. Expect lots of forehead kisses, slow dancing in the living room, and soft reassurances that he still finds you breathtaking. And even without sex, Joshua would show his love through gestures like foot massages or singing to your baby bump.

Jun: My man becomes even more attentive and thoughtful, taking on the role of your caretaker. He’s curious about every change happening to your body and finds it all fascinating, including the way your baby bump grows. Intimacy with Jun is lighthearted unlike other times, often filled with laughter as he tries to make you feel at ease. He’s naturally affectionate and wouldn’t shy away from initiating intimacy but would do so in a way that made you feel completely at ease. If you initiated, he’d be excited but gentle, showering you with compliments about how beautiful you are. He’ll make sure you’re comfortable and won’t push for anything you’re not up for.

Hoshi: Hoshi’s enthusiasm doesn’t falter one bit. He’s all about showering you with affection and telling you how amazing you are for carrying your little tiger cub. His approach to intimacy is spontaneous yet considerate—he’ll make sure to keep things fun and stress-free. Even if you’re not in the mood for sex, he’ll settle for long cuddles, kisses, and telling the baby how much they’re loved. If you initiated, he’d beam with excitement and take it as a sign that you trust him.

Wonwoo: Wonwoo becomes even more protective and gentle during your pregnancy. He would lean into emotional intimacy, letting sex come naturally as you feel comfortable. He rarely initiates but is incredibly responsive if you do, ensuring every moment feels meaningful and stress-free. He’s all about soft, meaningful moments, where the two of you can just connect. Intimacy with him is fluffy and slow, with an emphasis on emotional closeness rather than anything physical. He’ll spend hours reading to you or resting his head on your belly, finding peace in just being close to you.

Woozi: He’s highly attuned to your emotional and physical needs, often putting your comfort above his own desires. He’s less likely to initiate sex during your pregnancy unless he’s certain you’re feeling up to it, but if you initiated, he’d treat it as a chance to connect deeply. Woozi expresses his care in very impactful ways. He may not be overly verbal, but his actions speak louder than words ever can. He’s meticulous about ensuring your comfort and will adjust his schedule to spend more time with you. Intimacy with him is delicate and thoughtful—he focuses on what makes you feel good without putting any pressure on you.

Dokyeom: Kyeom's cheerfulness is contagious (I'll forever say this), and he’s always there to lift your spirits. He’s naturally affectionate but might be shy about initiating sex, worried about your well-being. If you initiated, he’d be thrilled but cautious, ensuring you’re genuinely ready and not pushing yourself. He’ll make you laugh during stressful moments and remind you how stunning you are every day. Intimacy with him is full of warmth and love, ensuring you never feel self-conscious. Even if sex isn’t on the table, he’s more than happy to hold you close and sing softly to your belly.

Mingyu: I think Gyu's love language is physical touch, so intimacy during your pregnancy would be a priority for him—not just sexually but in all forms. He’s highly affectionate, often initiating cuddles, massages, and gentle touches. If you initiated, he’d be eager but controlled, focusing on your comfort and ensuring the experience is as relaxing as possible. ALSO Mingyu thrives on making you feel like a queen during your pregnancy. From cooking your favorite meals to pampering you with spontaneous spa days, he’s all about treating you right. So, intimacy with him is passionate yet tender—he constantly reassures you of your beauty.

Minghao: Hao is incredibly mindful and attentive, always asking how you’re feeling and adapting his approach based on your needs. He’s patient and respectful, never initiating unless he knows you’re comfortable. He sees pregnancy as a beautiful journey and respects the changes in your body. Intimacy is gentle and intentional, with lots of eye contact and affirmations. If you initiated, he’d would proceed with care and attentiveness and if you’re not feeling up for sex, he’ll focus on other forms of connection, like holding hands or meditating together.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan is equal parts doting and passionate, constantly making sure you’re comfortable while also electrifying the mood with his sexiness I'm sorry. But he might hesitate to initiate sex, worried about your comfort. If you initiated, he’d approach it with care and sensitivity, making sure you felt cherished every step of the way. He’s vocal about how proud he is of you, often showering you with compliments. Intimacy with Seungkwan is full of love and care and he’ll take things at your pace and prioritize cuddles, kisses, and emotional connection over anything else.

Vernon: Vernon is adaptable, always going with the flow of your emotions. He’s not one to force anything and instead focuses on being present and supportive. He'll let you take the lead most of the time. He values your comfort and emotional well-being above all else, rarely initiating unless he senses you’re in the mood. If you initiated, he’d treat it with quiet enthusiasm, making sure you felt safe and loved. He’ll spend hours talking with you or playing your favorite songs to relax you. Physical affection remains gentle and unhurried, reflecting his respect for your boundaries. For Vernon, intimacy is about staying connected whether through sex, hanging out together, or simply holding you close.

Dino: Dino approaches your pregnancy with awe and excitement. He’s fascinated by the changes and always eager to help out. I think he'd be kinda nervous too about your pregnancy, often seeking advice to ensure he’s doing everything right. Intimacy with Dino is sweet and youthful, filled with playful moments and heartfelt gestures. He may be a little shy about initiating anything, but he makes up for it with his attentiveness and care. If you initiated, he’d be touched and would focus entirely on making you feel special.

[promptedwordsmith]

What are the LaDS like at Christmas?

Really late but had this in my drafts for a really long time and didn't want to have to wait another year to post it <3

Caleb:

It was Christmas Eve, the air crisp with a gentle frost, and the house was wrapped in the quiet warmth of holiday lights. The faint scent of cinnamon and pine mingled in the air, the sound of carols softly playing in the background. Outside, the world was blanketed in snow, but inside, it was nothing but the comforting glow of the tree and the crackling of the fireplace.

Caleb stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the streetlights outside. He was still wearing his uniform, though he had taken off his jacket. His purple eyes were lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that danced in the winter air. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself moments of calm like this—especially not with his responsibilities weighing so heavily on his shoulders—but tonight, he made an exception. Tonight, he was here, with you.

Turning away from the window, his gaze softened as he caught sight of you, nestled in the cozy armchair by the fire. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, a rare sight these days, one that was just for you. His footsteps were light on the hardwood floors as he approached, his presence familiar and grounding.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, like a promise you didn’t have to question. He crouched down beside you, reaching for your hand, his fingers brushing gently over yours, as though afraid you might disappear if he touched you too roughly.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his eyes. For all the weight of his duties, all the walls he put up, this side of Caleb—this gentle, romantic Caleb—was still there. He hadn’t forgotten how to love you in the quiet, simple ways that mattered most.

“I’m glad we’re here,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t need anything more than this—just you, and... the quiet.”

You smiled, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, there was no Colonel, no coldness. Just Caleb, the man you had known all your life, and the man who still cherished you, even in the midst of everything that had changed.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

In that moment, everything felt right. Even if it was fleeting, Caleb’s love was something you would hold onto—now, and always.

Rafayel

It was the night of Rafayel's latest exhibition, and you were there—not exactly for the art, but to make sure he didn’t disappear into the night again. Last time, Thomas had nearly lost his mind when Rafayel went missing for hours, leaving the gallery empty. Tonight, though, Rafayel spent the majority of the evening whining to you.

"I just want to go home, relax... Can't we leave already?" he grumbled, slouching against you, his eyes practically pleading with you.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, your heart warming at the sight of him. It was hard to imagine this carefree, childish side of him as the same person who, just moments ago, had been impeccably poised and professional as patrons arrived to admire his art.

"I thought you were supposed to be an artist," you teased, nudging him playfully.

"Ugh, I am an artist," he sighed, exasperated, but you knew the moment the crowd would thin, he’d turn back into his sulking self. Sure enough, the moment the room emptied and it was just the two of you, he slumped against you once more, his voice low and full of irritation.

"Is it time to leave yet?"

You giggled, shaking your head. His frustration was endearing, but you understood why he hated the bustle of it all. In truth, you were in the same boat. Though you’d been surrounded by art and people all evening, it felt like you hadn’t had much time together at all, and Rafayel hated that.

The second it was acceptable to leave, he was practically dragging you out the door. You tried to keep up as he moved quickly, a sense of urgency in his steps. You smiled to yourself—he was so impatient when it came to being away from you.

When you finally reached his studio home, Rafayel turned to you with a mischievous grin. “Wait outside,” he instructed, his tone sharp, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but frown.

It was December, and the cold air made your breath visible in the night. But you didn’t protest, curious as to what he had planned. It wasn’t long before Rafayel appeared at the door again, this time with a blindfold in hand. "Come on, just trust me," he said with a smile.

You allowed him to tie the blindfold over your eyes, the anticipation building with every passing second. He guided you carefully through the door, and when he finally removed the blindfold, the sight before you took your breath away.

The entire house was covered in sparkling decorations—glimmering lights, pine garlands, and little trinkets that looked like they’d been picked just for this moment. The room felt warm and alive, despite the chill outside. The holiday magic that you’d been missing, that had been absent from the exhibition, filled the air.

Before you could say a word, you turned to Rafayel, feeling overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment, and kissed him on the cheek.

His cheeks flushed bright red, his expression softening for a brief moment, but he quickly turned his head away, as if pretending the whole thing was no big deal. "It’s... nothing," he mumbled, though you could see the tiny, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

The holidays felt so much more real in that quiet moment, and for once, it was just the two of you—no distractions, no exhibitions, just warmth, love, and the peace of knowing you finally had this time together.

Sylus

The evening air is crisp, tinged with the faint scent of snow, as Sylus leads you through the quiet streets, his hand warm against yours. You notice the subtle confidence in his stride, the way he carries himself, never rushing, as if time itself bends to his will. The flicker of nearby streetlights casts long shadows, but with him, everything feels different—safe, contained, almost serene.

You reach the restaurant, a lavish building tucked away from the usual bustle. Its exterior is adorned with wreaths of greenery and strands of gold lights, each one shimmering in the night. A private venue, reserved just for the two of you. No one else. The doors open before you can reach them, revealing the soft glow of candlelight spilling into the street.

Inside, the atmosphere is nothing short of magical. The restaurant is transformed—Christmas in every corner. Garlands of fresh pine stretch across the ceiling, dotted with twinkling fairy lights. A towering tree, adorned with delicate ornaments and a star that glows brighter than the rest, stands proudly by the window. The whole room smells like cinnamon and pine, an aroma that settles around you like a warm blanket.

He guides you to the center of the room, where a table for two sits beneath a canopy of softly glowing lights. A fire crackles in a hearth nearby, casting flickering shadows over the elegantly set table. Gold-rimmed glasses catch the light, and the soft clink of fine china seems to echo in the silence between you.

Sylus doesn’t speak immediately, only looking at you with that quiet, knowing smile. There’s a warmth in his gaze—something deeper than the usual sharpness, something softer, as if this night, this moment, means more than he’s willing to say.

When he finally speaks, his voice is smooth, low. "I thought it would be a night worth remembering," he says, his fingers brushing over your hand, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "For you." His smile lingers, teasing, yet there's something unspoken in his tone, an unspoken sentiment wrapped in the cool, steady confidence of the man he is.

As the evening unfolds, the two of you dine beneath the glowing tree, laughter and conversation weaving effortlessly between the courses. The world outside fades away—only the warmth of his presence, the flicker of candlelight, and the glow of the tree remain.

When the dessert course arrives, a decadent chocolate soufflé, Sylus raises his glass to you. The glint of his red eyes, the soft curve of his smile, all speak of something deeper—a connection, a quiet promise that, just for tonight, all that matters is this moment.

Xavier

The scent of cinnamon and chocolate fills the apartment, curling through the air like something out of a dream. Outside, snow drapes over the city like a thick, quiet blanket, the streets empty, the world hushed. You glance at the clock—Tara was supposed to come, but with the storm growing worse, she sent a regretful text. Looks like it’s just the two of you tonight.

Not that you mind.

Across the room, Xavier stands near the kitchen, watching you with an unreadable expression. Not disinterest—no, something softer. Something almost hesitant, like he’s still figuring out why he’s here, in the warmth of your apartment, instead of out there in the cold.

“Xavier,” you say, turning toward him with a wooden spoon in hand, “don’t even think about coming in here.”

He blinks, tilting his head slightly. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.” You narrow your eyes at him, setting the spoon down with unnecessary dramatics. “I don’t trust you near open flames.”

He exhales, the closest thing to a laugh he ever really gives, and steps back—not far, but enough to lean against the wall and watch you work. The quiet hum of Christmas music plays in the background, something soft, something old, and for a while, the only sounds between you are the clink of mugs and the rustle of cookie dough being shaped.

When the cocoa is ready, you hand him a mug. He doesn’t drink right away. Instead, he just holds it, fingers curled around the warmth, gaze flickering from the string lights lining the windows to you, standing there in the glow of the Christmas tree.

You nudge his shoulder gently. “Come on, help me redecorate.”

The tree is already decorated—mostly. But as you start adjusting ornaments, he follows your lead, mimicking your movements with quiet focus. His hands are careful, precise, like he’s handling something far more delicate than a glass bauble. And when you get tangled in the strands of colored lights, Xavier’s breath catches for half a second.

You don’t notice at first. You just reach for him. “A little help?”

His fingers brush yours as he moves to untangle the lights, but instead of pulling away, he hesitates. The glow from the tree reflects in your eyes, soft and warm, and before he even thinks about it—

He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your fingertips.

It’s barely there—a ghost of warmth against your skin. A silent moment, delicate and unspoken. He doesn’t say anything after, and neither do you. You don’t have to. Because in that small, fleeting gesture, you already know.

Zayne

It had been a long shift. The sterile hum of the hospital still lingered in Zayne’s mind as he stepped into the quiet apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. His coat was draped over his arm, his tie loosened, and his glasses were slightly askew from the long hours spent under bright, sterile lights.

He had promised himself he wouldn’t linger too long on the weight of his shift, but it was hard to shake off the exhaustion. He could feel the dull ache in his shoulders from the day’s work. Yet, as he entered the living room, all that seemed to melt away.

The soft glow of the Christmas lights twinkling across the room cast a gentle warmth in the air, bathing everything in a dreamy haze. The tree, draped in gold and silver, stood quietly in the corner. The scent of pine, mingled with the faint warmth of the lights, made everything feel still, serene.

And there, on the couch, was you. Wrapped in a blanket, tucked in a way that seemed effortless, yet perfect—like you had fallen asleep in a moment of pure peace. Zayne’s heart softened, a tenderness flickering in his chest. He could hardly bear the thought of disturbing you, but the sight of you—vulnerable, relaxed, and so very much a part of the calm in the room—compelled him to act.

He knelt down beside the couch, careful not to wake you. Gently, he lifted you in his arms, cradling you with the practiced care that came so naturally to him. His hands, strong yet tender, guided you to the bedroom, where he tucked you in, making sure the blanket draped perfectly around your shoulders. He leaned over you for a moment, his gaze soft, taking in the peaceful expression on your face.

Just as he was about to step back, your eyes fluttered open, the drowsiness still lingering in your gaze. You blinked, and then—slowly—your hand reached up to touch his face, a faint smile curling on your lips.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

Zayne froze, his heart stuttering for a moment. A warmth spread across his chest, something deeper than the exhaustion of the day.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured back, his voice low, a small smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor.

You nestled back into the pillows, and within moments, you were asleep again, your breathing slow and steady. He stood there for a moment longer, just watching, utterly enchanted by the simplicity of the moment—the way you had so effortlessly brought warmth into his life, even in the quietest of ways.

The soft Christmas lights blinked on, a calm, peaceful reminder of everything he held dear, especially you.

[negrowhat]

I mean...

The yearning. The tender kiss. The restraint. The forehead kiss that lingers. (The acting here...) Perky denim-clad bum straddling. (A solid outfit choice). Their hands. (They are so good at natural marking, how they touch and hold each other in these scenes). The way Cir held his eyes (with that expression of barely restrained want) and swung his legs up onto his shoulder before pulling his pants off in one motion. I had to pause and exhale and laugh out loud. Because WHAT.

But also...all the licking. Sir. Here we are again, with you licking every inch of that young man. But is it just me or is this a more grown and sexy version? Licking up his neck and lingering at the adam's apple. The lips across the nipple. The little bite of the inner thigh. Yes, thank you.

And that was just the foreplay (Again, top marks boys).

Anon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are so right about everything! This scene gave us a lot to work with! Like a full-on visual buffet. Let's go back and even talk about Phu asking Cir to kiss him again, staring up and Cir with his big soft boy eyes. And when Cir climbed on top of Phu the first time I was like Dang when did Boss start arching his back like that???

That forehead kiss was sweet and I did enjoy seeing Cir's restraint kick back in, you could see him forcing himself to pull away. Phu was sick and though they have been acting like boyfriends, they were not in fact boyfriends. BUT I'm sure he saw what a lot of us saw. Phu's disappointment. Phu didn't say anything but his expression said it all, he was disappointed that Cir pulled away from him. He wanted more. And I love that we got such a telling expression from Noeul because it reads across so well.

Also not Cir offering to help...calm down Phu's raging hard-on TWICE! After all it was Cir's fault that Phu was like that. I love that MAME makes sure we all know that these main characters are in fact men because the boners Cir and Phu have been popping for each other over the past few eps have been a highlight.

I did love the licking of Phu's Adam's Apple and his chin and his chest. Loved the swift unbuttoning Cir did, it was so smooth and seamless. LOVED seeing Cir's big ole hand on Phu's chest and side. Loved the constant eye contact from Cir to Phu. I'm sure it was to make sure that Phu was fine with everything he was doing, but Boss does lusty, horny eyes so well. Love seeing Phu's hand buried in Cir's hair for most of the scene. You could really see him sinking his fingers in.

I wasn't expecting a blowjob scene though. A ton of BLs just jump right into the sex and we don't get a lot of forms of sexual intimacy outside of that (Not saying we don't get them at all, just not as often as one would like).

Also Cir allowing Phu to have control of that situation. I wasn't expecting so much hair gripping and Phu pushing Cir's head down. He set the pace and Cir just followed. Love that we got to see such pretty expressions from Phu too but I hate that Cir didn't get to enjoy his facial expressions.

This scene did give me serious PayuRain nostalgia with Phu being sick and Cir still kissing him. And also the inner thigh kissing.

Cir's brief bathroom scene seemed to imply that he might have jerked off in there (or maybe it was said in the novel) and I'm sure he probably rinsed out his mouth, like I was telling my friend, I'm sure Cir swallowed after giving Phu the best head of his life. And I just love that they go back to being cute and soft and sweet. I love that Phu is once again shy and Cir is back to being concerned about Phu being sick and alone.

[caffieneaddictt18]

okay but like… 141 with a partner who has chronic lower back pain.

I feel like Price would notice when you cant bend down mostly cause he likes sneaking peeks at your ass and notice the way your hand reaches around to press into the muscle. “You alright, luvie?” “Yeah. Fine.” He can just tell from the strain in your voice that it hurts, so he gets up and grabs a bottle of lotion. You’ve told him before that you have chronic lower back pain, and sometimes it flares up. Not too bad, but other times you can’t get out of bed. So he takes the lotion and gently guided you to the couch and has you lay down on your tummy as he pushes your shirt up just enough to massage the tender skin, muscles, and aggravated nerves. He might give it a kiss after and then he’ll flip you over and ask for his reward 😉

I headcanon that Simon also has chronic back pain, so he knows all about it. He has all the stuff for it already. Ice packs, heating pads, massage lotion, all the goods. So when you tell him that you have chronic lower back pain, he doesn’t even blink. However, whenever you have a flare up, he is always right there to help. He’s also one to remind you to not do too much just because it feels good today, when you inevitably ignore him and have a flare up so bad you can’t get out bed, he is also the one to take care of your bedridden self. "I told you, luv." "Yeah, yeah..."

Johnny would be the one that you have to sit down with and explain to him your situation, and then he would be like "Oh, yeah! I get that sometimes!" and you have to be the one to break the news that what he feels sometimes, you feel all the time, and you can see it break his heart. Now he doesn't let you do anything the moment he sees your hand on your back. You are ushered to your comfortable bed that he bought after you explained your pain to him, with a heating pad/ice pack for your back, a full water bottle, and the remote for the tv, as well as your phone, in case you need him as he finishes whatever you had to do for the rest of the day. He also does it in half the time... jerk (not really, just a man who is deeply in love with his soon-to-be wife)

Gaz, you see that he gets it. He kind of immediately understands. He does ask for you to trace where the pain is on him, so he can get a better understanding of it. As you spread your fingers to cover the entire area of where your pain would sit on him, or at least a similar equivalent, tracing up and down to where it spreads, he asks what it feels like right now. And you tell him that it's at baseline right now: that you can move fine, it's just with that added pain that you feel every day. From then on, he is aware of whenever flare-ups start. It's fucking weird too, like, sixth sense weird. You could have a normal day, and when you head to bed, you see Kyle laying out your heating pad and placing a water bottle on your nightstand. "What are you doing?" "Just got a feeling, darling." And the next morning, a random flare up, like he fucking thought. "How did you know?" "Cause I know you, darling." Then he'll kiss your forehead and be at your beck and call all day.

If it was a poly!141, I have a feeling that Simon would take point when he could. But if you both are down for the count, Price would take point on making sure that you both have everything you need, stationed in the living room, one on the couch and one on the old recliner that Price tends to populate. And then, at the end of the day, its a huge cuddle pile and movie night.