#it took me way too long to find that emoji
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the-great-mammon-01 · 6 months ago
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your nephew ( @pridesson I think was it? ) just said he hasn’t slept in 3 days? Jesuss.. get this kid some help..
also ehe! 🫧 anon if u may!
I mean, look at who his dad is. But if you're worried 'bout him, I'll go check in on 'im. If he refuses to sleep, I'll just go get Lucifer! Ain't my problem if he doesn't sleep, anyway
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c00kietin · 1 year ago
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🧡 mostly, but I'm getting to know you! <3
Yay!! I'd be happy to get to know ya too!! :D
I wonder who you are...🤔
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neonacidtrip · 2 years ago
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You could tie your hair in low bunches on the sides and then maybe braid the low bunches if you feel like it? That way sleeping on your back they're not uncomfortable and the hair isn't pulled!
Oh, that's actually a pretty good idea! If the braids don't work, I could probably try loosely twisting the bunches as well. Tonight, I'm going to be seeing the dog who likes to hop on my hair while I sleep, so this is perfect timing for me to test it out!
Thank you, anon!
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extended-kirbydash · 1 year ago
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Off hiatus but only for kirbtober 🧯💨💨💨
you can send doodle requests if you want 👍
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moonselune · 2 months ago
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Could I request headcanons where gn!Tav said they're too plain & boring for that to happen when he asked how would they feel about being courted for Halsin, Rolan, Raphael, Gale, Astarion, and Wyll? - emoji anon
Hey hey emoji anon always a pleasure to see you in my inbox xox
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Gale:
The evening sky was painted in soft hues of lavender and gold, the dying light casting a warm glow over the camp. Gale sat beside you, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt as the two of you shared a rare moment of stillness. The remnants of supper lingered nearby, and the faint crackle of the fire filled the spaces where words had yet to form.
You had always been a quiet presence—steadfast and observant. Gale had long been drawn to your grounded nature, your calm amidst the whirlwind of their adventures. Over the past weeks, that draw had turned into something deeper, something he could no longer ignore. Tonight felt like the right time to broach the subject.
He took a deep breath, then turned to face you fully.
“May I ask you something, my friend?” he began, his voice gentle but steady.
You glanced at him, curious, and gave a small nod.
“How would you feel about being courted?” Gale’s tone was warm, but his words were tentative, as if testing the air. “By someone who sees you for all that you are?”
Your eyes widened slightly, the question clearly not one you’d anticipated. You hesitated, looking away as if searching the horizon for an answer. Then, with a faint sigh, you shook your head. “I… don’t think that’s something I’d expect to happen.”
Gale’s brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued. “Why not?”
You fiddled with the edge of your sleeve, your voice low and even. “I’m plain. Boring. I don’t have anything special to offer. I’m not… the kind of person someone courts.”
The words were simple, almost matter-of-fact, but Gale could hear the faint note of self-deprecation woven through them. His heart ached at the thought of you seeing yourself this way—so unremarkable when, to him, you were anything but.
“Plain?” he repeated softly, as though tasting the word and finding it absurd. “Boring?”
You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the ground, unwilling to meet his.
Gale shifted closer, his movements deliberate but unhurried. He leaned forward slightly, trying to catch your eye.
“You see yourself as ordinary,” he said gently. “But allow me to offer a different perspective.”
You glanced at him, a flicker of skepticism in your expression.
“There is a profound beauty in simplicity,” Gale continued, his voice gaining a quiet intensity. “In the way you listen so intently when others speak, as though their words hold the weight of the world. In the way you notice things most people overlook—like the way the sunlight catches on a blade of grass, or the quiet joy in a companion’s laughter.”
He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Do you know how rare that is? To move through life with such quiet awareness, to find wonder in the things others dismiss? It’s anything but boring.”
You blinked, clearly caught off guard by his words. Your fingers stilled, and for a moment, you seemed at a loss.
Gale smiled softly, his expression both kind and earnest. “And as for plain… I would argue that nothing about you is plain. Not to me. You have a depth, a quiet strength, that draws people in—whether you realize it or not. Including me.”
Your lips parted slightly, as if to protest, but no words came. The firelight danced in Gale’s eyes as he continued, his tone growing warmer.
“You think yourself unremarkable,” he said, his hand resting lightly on his knee. “But I see someone who is steady in a world full of chaos. Someone who doesn’t need grand gestures or flamboyant words to leave a mark. You do so simply by being you.”
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The fire crackled softly, the wind rustled the leaves, and Gale waited patiently, his heart laid bare.
Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter than before. “I’m not sure I see what you see.”
Gale chuckled softly, a sound full of affection. “That’s all right. For now, let me see it for you.”
His words hung in the air, an offering, not a demand. You searched his face, as though trying to find some trace of insincerity, but all you found was warmth and a gentle resolve.
After a long pause, you nodded—tentative but genuine. It wasn’t an outright acceptance, but it was a start, a crack in the wall you’d built around yourself. Gale’s smile widened, relief and joy evident in his expression.
“Then I’ll consider myself fortunate to take this first step with you,” he said. “For however long you’ll allow.”
He didn’t press further, content to let the moment settle. Instead, he shifted back slightly, his posture relaxed but his gaze still lingering on you, as if committing this moment to memory.
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Astarion:
The moon hung high in the sky, its pale light spilling over the camp and painting everything in silver hues. Astarion leaned against a tree at the edge of the firelight, his posture casual yet poised, as if every movement was deliberately chosen to exude elegance. He had led you here for a moment away from the others, a chance for privacy in a rare moment of quiet.
He had been observing you for weeks now, intrigued by your quiet nature and the way you seemed to exist outside the clamor of the world. You weren’t like the others, who vied for attention or filled silences with chatter. You were steady, calm, a constant presence that had unexpectedly captivated him. Tonight, he decided, was the night to act.
“How would you feel about being courted?” Astarion asked, his voice smooth and deliberate, though a hint of genuine curiosity underpinned his words. He tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes watching you intently.
The question startled you. Your brow furrowed as you turned to him, studying his face for a moment before looking away. You hesitated, as if unsure of how to answer, before finally speaking, your voice quiet but firm.
“I don’t think I’m the type of person anyone would court.”
Astarion blinked, caught off guard. He straightened, his usual smirk replaced by an expression of genuine confusion. “And why, pray tell, would you think that?”
You shrugged, your fingers idly toying with the edge of your sleeve. “I’m… plain. Boring. I don’t stand out. There’s nothing about me that would make someone look twice.”
He stared at you, momentarily at a loss. In all his centuries of life—undead and otherwise—he had heard many things from many people, but this? This was utterly baffling. Slowly, he pushed off the tree, taking a step closer to you.
“You truly think that?” he asked, his voice softer now, his usual theatrics momentarily set aside.
You nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “I’m just… me. There’s nothing special about that.”
Astarion’s lips parted, an incredulous laugh escaping him. It wasn’t mocking, but rather a genuine reaction to the absurdity of your words. He took another step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher a riddle.
“You are utterly fascinating,” he said, his tone tinged with exasperation. “And yet you don’t even see it.”
You finally looked at him then, surprise flickering in your eyes. “Fascinating? Me?”
“Yes, you,” he said, his voice gaining a playful edge but still rooted in sincerity. “Do you think I spend my time with people who bore me? Who fade into the background? Darling, you’ve done nothing but capture my attention since the day we met.”
You blinked, clearly taken aback. Astarion seized the moment, stepping closer until there was only a breath of space between you. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that was surprisingly gentle.
“You think yourself plain, but let me tell you what I see,” he continued, his crimson eyes locked on yours. “I see someone who is steady when the world is chaos. Someone who doesn’t feel the need to shout to be heard, because their presence speaks louder than words ever could. I see kindness, strength, and a quiet resilience that most people could only dream of possessing.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, silencing you with a sly smile. “And boring? Oh, darling, you couldn’t be boring if you tried. Do you know how refreshing it is to spend time with someone who doesn’t feel the need to posture or perform? Who is simply… themselves?”
His hand lingered on your arm, his gaze softening. “You’ve been a balm to my restless soul, whether you realize it or not. And while I do enjoy a challenge, I assure you, this—us—isn’t some idle game to me.”
Your breath hitched at his words, your mind struggling to reconcile his sincerity with the image you held of yourself. For a moment, you simply stared at him, searching his face for any trace of insincerity. But all you found was honesty, woven with a thread of vulnerability that Astarion rarely let anyone see.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He smiled then, a genuine smile that softened his sharp features.
“You don’t need to say anything, my dear,” he said. “Just… allow me the chance to show you how wrong you are about yourself. One step at a time.”
There was a moment of silence, the world around you fading into the background as his words hung in the air. Finally, you nodded—a small, tentative gesture, but one that spoke volumes.
Astarion’s smile widened, his usual confidence returning as he stepped back, though his eyes never left yours.
“Good,” he said, his tone lightening. “Now, let’s consider this the first step. And I promise, you won’t find it boring in the slightest.”
As the moonlight bathed the two of you in its glow, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of warmth in your chest—a spark of something you hadn’t dared to hope for. Astarion, ever the enigma, had found something extraordinary in you, and perhaps, just perhaps, it was time for you to see it too.
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Wyll:
The campfire crackled softly, casting a warm, golden glow over the small clearing. The day’s trials had finally settled into the past, leaving the evening peaceful and calm. Wyll sat across from you, his posture relaxed but his eyes searching your face. You’d spent much of the evening in comfortable silence, but Wyll had something weighing on his mind, a question that had been lingering for weeks now.
He straightened slightly, his expression shifting to something earnest and determined.
“Can I ask you something, my friend?” he said, his voice gentle but steady.
You nodded, turning your attention fully to him, your quiet gaze encouraging him to continue.
“How would you feel about being courted?” His words were soft, but they carried a weight, as though he’d thought about them long before speaking. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes warm yet watchful. “By me.”
Your reaction wasn’t what he expected. Rather than the usual flustered surprise or shy delight, you looked away, your brows furrowing slightly. For a moment, you seemed lost in thought, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the dirt.
Finally, you spoke, your voice quiet but steady. “I don’t think that’s something someone like me would expect. Or deserve.”
Wyll blinked, caught off guard. He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening with concern. “Why would you say that?”
You shrugged, the motion small, almost imperceptible. “I’m… plain. Boring. I don’t have anything special to offer. I’m not the kind of person someone courts. Especially not someone like you.”
His brows knit together, the statement hitting him harder than you probably realized. For a moment, he was silent, processing your words. Then, slowly, he shifted closer, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as though approaching a spooked animal.
“I think you have the wrong idea about yourself,” he said gently, his voice steady but filled with quiet conviction. “And about me, too.”
You glanced at him, surprise flickering in your expression, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve had people sing my praises for years,” Wyll said, his tone tinged with a bittersweet smile. “They see the Blade of Frontiers, the hero of Baldur’s Gate, the warlock who made a devil’s bargain to save lives. They see the titles, the stories. But do you know what’s often missing in all that admiration?”
You shook your head slightly, curiosity softening your guarded expression.
“Truth,” he said simply. “They don’t see the person behind the blade. They don’t ask about Wyll—just Wyll, the man who likes to read by the fire, who enjoys a good laugh and a quiet evening, who sometimes feels lost and unsure, just like anyone else.”
You frowned slightly, your fingers stilling as you listened. He leaned closer, his gaze earnest.
“That’s what I see in you,” he continued, his voice softer now. “You don’t treat me like a symbol or a story. You see me as I am—flaws and all. And you? You’re anything but boring. You’re steady, thoughtful, kind in ways most people overlook because they’re too busy shouting over the world.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Let me finish,” he said, his tone teasing but kind. “I’ve been surrounded by noise for so long. People who only care about the legend and not the man. But you? You’re a balm to that chaos. Your quiet strength, your grounded nature—it’s a gift, one I’m lucky to witness.”
Your gaze dropped again, your hands fidgeting in your lap.
“I’m not sure I see what you do,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s all right,” Wyll said, his smile widening. “You don’t have to see it right now. But I hope, if you’ll let me, I can help you see it someday.”
For a moment, there was only the sound of the fire crackling, the world around you fading into the background. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, something vulnerable but hopeful flickering in your eyes.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured. Wyll chuckled softly, his voice warm and reassuring.
“You don’t have to say anything, not yet,” he said. “But let me court you, in my own quiet way. One step at a time.”
You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you, before finally giving a small nod. It was tentative, but it was enough.
Wyll’s smile brightened, his joy evident but restrained as he respected the moment’s delicacy. As the firelight danced in his eyes, you felt a small spark of warmth in your chest, a flicker of something you hadn’t dared to hope for.
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Halsin:
The two of you sat on the edge of a tranquil grove, where the whispering trees and a gently trickling stream created a sanctuary of peace. Halsin had invited you here—his favorite spot in the forest—to share its beauty with you. The warm glow of sunset bathed the grove in golden light, making everything feel almost dreamlike.
Halsin turned to you, his expression thoughtful but earnest. For days, he had been working up the courage to address the feelings stirring in his heart, feelings he couldn’t ignore. He was a man who valued honesty, and with you, there was no need for pretense.
“How would you feel about being courted?” he asked, his deep voice as steady as ever, though a flicker of vulnerability softened his usual confidence.
You blinked, caught off guard. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. For a long moment, you simply stared at him, your thoughts turning inward as you tried to process his words. Courted? By Halsin?
When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, your tone steady but tinged with self-deprecation.
“I… don’t know why you’d want that,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “I’m… plain. Boring. There’s nothing special about me.”
Halsin’s brow furrowed, and he leaned closer, his large frame radiating warmth and concern.
“You think yourself plain? Boring?” He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping him. “I don’t see you that way at all.”
You shrugged, a small, almost invisible motion. “I don’t talk much. I don’t stand out. There’s nothing about me that would catch someone’s attention, let alone someone like you.”
The words were simple, but they carried a weight that struck Halsin deeply. He studied you for a moment, his golden eyes filled with quiet contemplation. Then he reached out, his hand hesitating briefly before resting lightly on your forearm—a grounding gesture, firm but gentle.
“You are wrong about yourself,” he said softly. “Painfully so. Perhaps others might overlook you, distracted by louder voices or flashier displays. But that does not make you plain. It makes you rare.”
Your gaze flicked to his, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was honesty—unflinching and unwavering.
“Do you know what drew me to you?” Halsin continued, his voice steady. “It wasn’t grand gestures or clever words. It was the way you see the world. The way you move through it with quiet grace, noticing things others miss. The kindness in your actions, the thoughtfulness in your silences. You don’t need to speak loudly to be heard, nor shine brightly to be seen.”
Your brow furrowed slightly, skepticism still lingering, but his words stirred something in you—a small ember of hope, fragile but warm.
“I have lived a long life,” Halsin said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I have seen many things, met many people. Yet none have made me feel as you do. When I am with you, I feel… peace. A sense of balance I have long sought. How could I not wish to court someone who makes the world feel whole?”
Your breath hitched, the sincerity in his words overwhelming in its simplicity. He wasn’t trying to convince you or charm you—he was merely telling you the truth as he saw it.
“I know you think yourself plain,” he added, his tone softening further. “But to me, you are extraordinary. And I would be honored if you would allow me to show you that.”
You looked away, your fingers tightening slightly against your knees, processing his words. It wasn’t easy to see yourself through his eyes, to accept the idea that someone as kind, wise, and strong as Halsin could feel this way about you. But his earnestness was undeniable, and the warmth in his gaze felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
Finally, you nodded—a small, almost imperceptible movement—but it was enough. Halsin’s smile widened, a quiet joy lighting his face. He didn’t push for more, didn’t press you for an answer beyond that. He simply placed his hand over yours, a silent promise in the gentle weight of his touch. For the first time, you felt that maybe you weren’t as plain as you thought.
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Rolan:
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light over the clearing where you and Rolan sat. The camp was a short distance away, but it felt like a different world out here, surrounded by the gentle sounds of nature. Rolan had invited you to join him, claiming a need to get a break from the tower, ostensibly to discuss a spell he was refining, but the conversation had meandered into more personal territory.
Rolan, ever the picture of confidence with his sharp wit and sharper tongue, seemed uncharacteristically hesitant as he looked at you now. His fingers drummed lightly against the cover of a spellbook in his lap, the only sign of his nerves.
"I’ve been thinking," he began, his tone carefully measured. "About… connections. Relationships. And—hypothetically, of course—how one might feel about being courted."
You raised an eyebrow at him, your expression unreadable, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
Rolan cleared his throat, his gaze darting briefly to the ground before returning to you. “How would you feel about it? If someone—hypothetically, of course—were interested in courting you?”
The question hung in the air between you, his carefully chosen words laced with something more vulnerable than he let on. You tilted your head slightly, processing his question, before finally replying in your usual quiet tone.
“I don’t think that’s something I’d expect to happen.”
Rolan blinked, caught off guard by your matter-of-fact response.
“Why not?” he asked, his voice sharper than he intended, though curiosity softened the edges.
You shrugged, your gaze drifting away from him. “I’m plain. Boring. Not the kind of person someone would look at that way.”
For a moment, Rolan was silent, his expression frozen in something between disbelief and frustration. He closed his spellbook with a decisive snap and leaned forward, his golden eyes fixed on you.
“Plain?” he repeated, his voice incredulous. “Boring? You cannot be serious.”
You frowned slightly, the smallest sign of discomfort. “I don’t see what’s so surprising about it.”
“What’s surprising,” Rolan said, his tone gaining momentum, “is that someone as unique as you could think of themselves that way. Plain? Hardly. You have a presence that is… grounding. Quiet, yes, but not boring. Do you know how rare it is to meet someone who listens so completely? Who sees people, not just their façades?”
You looked at him, startled by his intensity, but still hesitant to believe him.
“And boring?” he continued, his hands gesturing animatedly now. “You? Boring? I’ve seen the way you notice the smallest details, the things everyone else overlooks. The way you spoke back at the grove and at the Inn. The way you find meaning in the most unassuming moments. It’s like watching someone unearth treasure where others see dirt.”
You blinked, clearly unprepared for such fervent praise. “I think you’re exaggerating.”
Rolan snorted, leaning back but keeping his gaze on you. “Oh, I assure you, I’m not. I confess I may have a penchant for flair but if anything, I’m being far too restrained. You may not see it, but I do. And the fact that you don’t parade it around for the world to admire makes it all the more remarkable.”
There was a beat of silence as his words sank in. You looked away, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve.
“I’m just me,” you murmured. “I don’t think I’m what anyone would want.”
Rolan sighed, his usual sharp edges softening as he leaned forward again.
“And what if I told you that you’re exactly what I want?” he asked, his voice quiet but unwavering.
Your eyes snapped to his, wide with surprise. He held your gaze, his expression uncharacteristically open and earnest.
“I’m not saying this lightly,” he continued. “I’ve met plenty of people who’ve tried to catch my eye with flair and dramatics. And yet, here I am, drawn to you—not despite your quiet nature, but because of it. You make me feel… seen. Grounded. And that’s not something I take lightly.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The fire of his conviction left you momentarily stunned, your usual composure slipping.
Rolan, ever perceptive, offered you a small smile.
“I’m not asking for an answer right now,” he said, his tone gentler than before. “But if you’re willing, I’d like to show you what I see in you. What I value.”
You hesitated, your mind swirling with doubt and confusion, but there was something in his eyes—a sincerity that made it hard to look away. Finally, you nodded, the motion small but meaningful.
Rolan’s smile widened, his confidence returning as he straightened.
“Good,” he said lightly, though his eyes still held a spark of warmth. “I’ll consider this a victory for now.”
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the clearing in hues of gold and amber, you felt a strange warmth settle in your chest. A welcome warmth, one you began to wish would never go away.
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Raphael:
The dim glow of the Infernal plane's ever-present crimson light cast flickering shadows across the opulent chamber Raphael had conjured for this meeting. He had whisked you away from camp, claiming that he simply had to talk to you. It's not like any of you could stop him.
So, you sat across from the cambion, the weight of his intense gaze like fire on your skin. His effortless elegance and sly charm made him an intimidating presence, and yet, here you were, an enigma in his life—a mortal who had somehow dared to pique his interest.
Raphael leaned back in his ornate chair, swirling a goblet of dark wine as a faint smirk played on his lips.
“Indulge me, dear one,” he began, his voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. “If someone were to court you, what would you think of that? Hypothetically, of course.”
His tone was playful, but his golden eyes betrayed a glint of something deeper, something predatory and curious. He wanted your answer, and more than that, he wanted your reaction.
Your expression remained neutral, though his question tugged at something uncomfortable within you. You shifted slightly in your seat, avoiding his gaze for a moment. When you finally spoke, your voice was soft, almost self-effacing.
“I don’t think that’s something I’d ever need to consider.”
Raphael arched a brow, intrigued. “And why, pray tell, is that?”
A small shrug was your only initial response. You glanced at the ground, your hands resting idly in your lap. “I’m too plain. Too boring. I can assure you, that no one would go to the trouble for someone like me.”
The room seemed to grow quieter, the ambient sounds of the infernal realm fading as your words settled in the air. Raphael’s smirk froze, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply watching you, assessing.
Then, he laughed.
It wasn’t the cruel, mocking laughter you might have expected. It was something deeper, richer, though no less sharp. The sound echoed through the chamber, laced with incredulity and amusement.
“Plain?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly with disbelief. “Boring? You wound me, darling. To think you’d insult my taste so gravely.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his reaction. “I wasn’t insulting you,” you murmured. “Just… stating the truth.”
Raphael leaned forward suddenly, his goblet forgotten on the table between you. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, and the playful veneer fell away, replaced by something far more serious.
“Let me make one thing abundantly clear,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “I do not waste my time on ‘plain’ or ‘boring.’ I am Raphael, cambion and devil, and my desires are nothing short of extraordinary. And yet, here I am, entertaining this conversation with you.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a sharp gesture.
“Do you think I value surface-level trivialities? Flashy baubles and empty charms?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “No, my dear. What draws me—what fascinates me—is the quiet strength you carry, the steadfastness that refuses to yield even when the world would see you broken. You call yourself plain, but I see a canvas upon which potential is painted. You call yourself boring, yet your very presence intrigues me in ways no banal mortal ever has.”
You stared at him, stunned into silence by the sheer conviction in his words. Raphael rose from his chair and took a step closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. Despite his intensity, there was no malice in his expression—only a fierce, unyielding confidence.
“You think yourself undeserving of my attention?” he said, his tone softening but losing none of its weight. “I assure you, my attention is not so easily won. And yet, you’ve captured it. What does that tell you?”
You swallowed, your throat dry. “That you’re… persistent?” you ventured, your voice tinged with hesitant humor. Raphael chuckled, a genuine sound that softened the edges of his sharp demeanor.
“Indeed,” he said, his smirk returning. “But more than that, it tells you that there is far more to you than you realize. And I intend to show you exactly what I see.”
You looked away, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of doubt and hope.
“I’m not sure I believe you,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.
Raphael tilted your chin up with a single finger, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“Then allow me the pleasure of proving you wrong,” he said, his voice a velvet promise. “You may doubt yourself, but I do not. And I am not one to be easily swayed.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You found yourself nodding, unable to find the strength to argue further. Raphael’s smile widened, a predatory glint returning to his eyes.
“Good,” he murmured, stepping back with an air of satisfaction. “Then let the courting begin. And trust me, my darling—there is nothing boring about what lies ahead.”
As he returned to his seat, his goblet once again in hand, you felt a strange mix of apprehension and warmth settle in your chest. Raphael’s words had shaken something loose within you, and though you weren’t sure what to make of it yet, one thing was certain: this devil would not let you fade into obscurity. Not without a fight.
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Fun to add Rolan and Raphael to the bunch with this one, hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox
P.S thank you all for your sweet messages it truly means a lot xoxo
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
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verstappen-cult · 11 months ago
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LOVE STORY, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader.
SUMMARY — Going out on dates with Max means taking a lot of pictures to share them on Instagram. Max has never complained, in fact, he's more than happy to show the world just how much he enjoys every single one of those dates.
GWEN'S RADIO MESSAGE. requested by @amoosarte "reader and max go out a ton dates during winter break, with max posing awkwardly while reader is taking picture every second if they go on a date, so max switched it around and take a bunch of photos of her and it's just so adorable and he's so whipped?" i had so much fun looking for max and his gf's pictures because he's literally the 🧍‍♂️emoji in every single one of their pics. so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i hope you like it!
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yourusername
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Liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 989,562 others
yourusername Hello, Paris! Winter break has started and what a better way to celebrate than with a first date in the city of love with this handsome man. 💋​🤍​
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user01 relationship goals
user02 forever grateful with for giving us max content
landonorris thanks for not taking your child with you.
yourusername what don't you understand about romantic holiday? we don't want u here ⤷ landonorris wait did you hear that? it was my heart breaking. completely shattered. 😞​ maxverstappen1 you're welcome! 😁​👊​ ⤷ landonorris i always knew you never wanted me
user03 the pov girlies of tiktok are gonna have a feast
user04 MY PARENTS
francisca.cgomes come and visit, i miss you!
yourusername just let me get rid of max first and i'll come to you, baby maxverstappen1 stop trying to steal my gf from me ⤷ francisca.cgomes she wants me
user05 the second pic is so pinterest coded
user06 max not wearing red bull merch? am i dreaming?
user07 the girlfriend effect is real
maxverstappen1 everyone needs to know that we walked around paris for hours trying to find that coffee place you wanted to try. i feet still hurt!
yourusername you love me ⤷ maxverstappen1 shut up
yourusername
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yourusername Everything's better if I'm with you.
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user08 omg im gonna cry they look so cute
user09 THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER
user10 sleeping on the highway sounds like a good idea
danielricciardo disgusting
yourusername you're just jealous
charles_leclerc went on holiday without me? :(
landonorris they left me too ⤷ yourusername OH SHUT UP ⤷ landonorris NEVER.
maxverstappen1 you can join us in st. tropez ⤷ landonorris can i join too? danielricciardo already packing pierregasly count me in oscarpiastri @/danielricciardo pick me up maxverstappen1 I WAS TALKING TO CHARLES
user11 sick and tired of not having my own max verstappen
user12 obsessed with max "heart eyes" verstappen
user13 HE LOVES HER SM
yourusername
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yourusername We had a reservation at a fancy restaurant today but instead of dressing up, we chose to stay home and build a flower bouquet out of Legos. 🥺​🤍
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user14 they 😭​ stayed home 😭​ instead
georgerussell63 donuts are not on his diet.
maxverstappen1 SHUT UP GEORGE yourusername it's winter break ge, he's allowed ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah baby defend me
user15 why is no one talking about MAX'S CHEST ON DISPLAY?????
user16 oh she knows what she's doing ⤷ yourusername no idea what you're talking about. 🤭​
user17 i am BEGGING you to stop i'm too single for this
user18 MY OH MY
user19 yn's comment section always delivers
user20 happy for them and not at all jealous
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yourusername 🖤​🖤​🖤​
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user21 kill me now please i can't leave knowing i'll never find someone who loves me as much as max loves y/n
user22 THE WAY HE'S GRABBING HER LEG?
user23 MR. VERSTAPPEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING
alex_albon where did you two go
yourusername you've reached y/n's voicemail please speak after after the tone
oscarpiastri please remember i'm sharing a wall with you
charles_leclerc good luck mate yukitsunoda0511 i have earplugs if you need some ⤷ maxverstappen1 WTF YUKI
user24 WHAT IS GOING ON AAAA
user25 i can't keep lying to myself. i want a relationship like the one max and y/n have like you can clearly see how much they love each other
user26 OBSESSED WITH THIS DATE SAGA PLS DON'T STOP
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 I just couldn't leave you without showing you my POV.
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user27 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MYD SJDJHSDJKN
user28 all men should be like max verstappen
yourusername i didn't even notice you taking half of these. words cannot express how much i love you.
user29 "my pov" MY PARENTS
landonorris you actually made her look pretty
yourusername i'll cut the brakes of your car ⤷ landonorris THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER
user30 they're so adorable its disgusting
user31 i'm 100% sure their friends are so sick of them
charles_leclerc yes pierregasly you're right landonorris i throw up every time i see them georgerussell63 finally someone understands
user32 STOP THIS MADNESS
user33 oh she has him wrapped around her finger
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© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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xo2dee · 6 months ago
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NOW LOADING. .
JJK MASTERLIST
ROMANTIC DREAMS
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PAIRING: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ only. post shibuya au, post shibuya!nanami, manga spoilers, mentions of body harm, established relationship, body worship, hand jobs, thigh riding, slight angst WORD COUNT: 9,833 SUMMARY: In time, in sync, tonight the stage is yours.
A/N: i wrote this like two years ago for nanami's bday and was supposed to post it again on his bday but im late for everything :/ but pls enjoy!
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Violet clouds tumbling about in various shapes and sizes and an orange sky waning to something cooler took the time to bathe Tokyo in its glory for the evening. And as gorgeous as it looked, you could not find the means to take in the beautiful sight outside your balcony window since you were too busy keeping all your attention on your surly lover and his disgruntled attitude from the moment he had woke up that morning.
“No peeking,” you reminded him, your hands still covering his eyes regardless before you placed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
Kento sighed, his shoulders drooping and leaning his back from where he sat in the dining room to brush the crown of his head against your chest, “I’m not, and I told you this wasn’t necessary. You didn’t have to go out of your way to do anything for me.” His voice remained in that low grumble (tired, quiet, and nearly monotone), but you could vaguely hear the briefest bit of anticipation in way his vocal cords slightly shook. From the element of surprise or your clingy behavior? You weren’t sure.
You pulled your hands away after resting your chin on his shoulder, glancing over to make sure he still wasn’t peeking before you hummed and rubbed your hands along his upper arms, “So you say, but you of all people should know me.”
“I do, and I had a feeling from the moment you left this morning that you were up to something.”
You looked away from his long eyelashes brushing across his skin, noting the faintest shade of red coloring his cheek in the process, and looked in front of you both onto the dinner table where sat his ‘birthday cake’ and the polka-dotted candles lit up with the number 32 spread out. You moved your hands onto his shoulders and massaged them, your own sigh falling out of your mouth and kissed his temple at his ragged tone. “It’s nothing bad… And it’s not like I pulled a Gojo and nearly planned a whole surprise party; just a little of something to show my appreciation and love for you.”
“You already did this morning and gave me my gift. And you’ve told me, ‘Happy Birthday’ at least three times already today too.”
You squeezed his shoulders and rolled your eyes, remembering his sleepy grumbling when you had woken him up at three in the morning to tell him, when you had kissed his scarred cheek from behind as he stood in front of the mirror brushing his teeth and told him, and when you had texted him around lunch time with an excessive amount of emojis and letters full of caps lock and received a thumbs up emoji in response and just a, ‘Thank you, I love you’.
(Kento sucked at texting and it only seemed to be getting worse as he grew older, but you weren’t about to tell him that.)
But he could blush and sigh in exasperation all he wanted, you knew he liked attention from you. “So what? It’s like a national holiday to me today… Anyway, you can open your eyes now,” you combed your fingers through his hair, the undercut long since grown out as he had gotten older before throwing your arms around his shoulders once more as you pressed your cheek into his and smiled from the warmth it emitted, “I hope you like it.”
You could feel him sigh before you heard him, peeking in your peripheral vision as you watched his one eye open to give sight to the lone umber iris you treasured as it settled on the table in front of him. You bit the inside of your cheek as he took it in, the usual taut furrow in his brow lessening, his lips slightly parting as you watched the amber candlelight flicker across his sharp, angular features, and a glimmer of surprise taking over his expression altogether as he took in what was in front of him while remaining speechless. It made you giddy, a giggle bubbling out of your lungs from his apparent awe as you angled your mouth onto his jawline and kissed him there as well, leaving behind yet another lipstick stain in your wake.
“Happy Birthday, handsome. You said you weren’t up for a cake this year, so I had to compromise and I think I did pretty good.”
You folded your hands atop his chest (his steady heartbeat ricocheting off your palms setting itself as a reminder of what you nearly lost, and how it remained beating despite the rough exterior of his skin on the outside and the failed lung the doctors did their best to help causing him to have breathing problems still after four years) and embraced him from your stance behind him, basking yourself in his warmth as you heard his breathing pick up and his hand coming up to curl around your wrist.
“This is… I haven’t had this in –”
“Nearly ten years? I know,” you cheekily replied, tucking your face in his neck and curling yourself into his scent, “Would’ve been a hassle trying to find the place if it wasn’t for you telling me about it all the time.”
Kento made a noise in the back of his throat, releasing his hold on your wrist and turning his head as you removed your face from his neck so that your noses brushed across one and another, “You… Is that what you were scribbling on that piece of paper this morning…?” He hadn’t removed his eyepatch for the day, nor had he ever seemed to stop dressing down since the accident, but you knew it was more of a small insecurity he held within himself to remain looking as normal as he could. Not that he was particularly vain, but you knew he hated looking in the mirror sometimes thinking he was disfigured beyond being recognized and often it showed when it came to you regardless.
Nevertheless you felt your cheeks warm, realizing he had seen you doing that and casted a small glance to your purse that laid on the couch from when you came home and he took it from you. Kento’s own near indistinguishable glint in his eye brightened, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his lap and securing you there when you threw your legs across his own as you got ready for all the teasing you knew was to come. However, he seemingly spared you for the night, taking your hand to press a warm kiss to the inside of your wrist and murmuring against your skin so quietly and softly you nearly didn’t hear him.
“Tell me about your day.”
He wanted to know your thought process on why you did it and truly what you had done the entire day away from him.
The dreaded piece of paper with your destination scrabbled on it like chicken scratch had been crumbled and folded up in your purse as you had left your shared apartment in a haste, nearly your shoes on the wrong feet and almost forgetting your wallet in the process to race against the clock to get to work and to perhaps keep your husband under wraps for the surprise. However, going to the store and getting all the other supplies you needed was a walk in the park, but trying to find the exact location of… Hell, you weren’t even able read the damn name anymore by the time 4 P.M. rolled around, as the ink had blotted and the shitty pen you kept in your purse barely worked anyway, so you were left with squinting at it standing on the sidewalk trying to remember where in the fuck you were supposed to go in smack dab the middle of the Summer.
And, fuck, was it hot.
Unbearably and unbelievably hot.
July was seemingly always scalding in the Summer of Tokyo, and it didn’t really matter that the sun was only beginning to set for the temperature to remain the same as it was from noon until at least nine at night. Perspiration clung to your body with every step you took, your thighs beginning to chafe from how they had been rubbing together while you walked and you were then wondering if the sun had fried your brain from where it had been beating down on your scalp all day. You had lost count of the many times you had accidentally licked your upper lip free of any sweat, hoping to anyone above that your eyelash glue wasn’t melting off your fucking eyelid and your eyeliner wasn’t running and smudged underneath your eye with the amount times you had fiddled with your face, but more importantly you hoped that whatever you were doing worked out in the end and you didn’t look like an idiot.
It was July 3rd, and you had trotted out around on one of the world’s hottest, and most special days in desperation for a gift you had somehow thought of on your own to get.
It was July 3rd, and it was your husband’s  – Nanami Kento – birthday, and you were trying your damnedest to find that little, nook-and-cranny, locally owned (because Kento really preferred local businesses more than anything) bakery that he used to frequent constantly, and maybe beg for the recipe for his favorite sandwich so that you could make it for him for his birthday and any other day he wanted for the rest of his life.
Perhaps it was an oddball gift, as you had already asked Kento what he wanted –
(“What do you want for your birthday?”
“You don’t have to get me anything. Spending time with you that day is enough for me.”
“Corny. And you say that every year, and you still get me things for my birthday.”
“And I mean it every year. The greatest gift you have given me was when you agreed to marry me, so you’ve already given me everything I could have ever wanted.”
Okay, you’d admit, you giggled, squealed, and kicked your feet like a girl with a crush at that, the corny, dork of a man always one-upping you and making you feel like a Goddess, but God for once you wanted to make him feel the same way.)
– and he had said nothing despite the fact that whenever you gifted him that book he had been eyeballing in the book store he had literally sighed like he was fantasizing about getting home to watch his favorite cooking show, and it was then the lightbulb in your head went off when you remembered Kento only really sighed over very few things.
One: the crisp smell of a new book and the tightly wounded spine nearly making him bust in his pants whenever he got his hands on it.
Two: you.
And three: food. Not just any old food either; sandwiches that made him gush and launch into a detailed explanation about whenever the bread was baked just right, and the vegetables looked like edible art, and the meat to it was laid and folded just perfectly with the right amount of sauce and any seasoning, was really what could get Kento going and make him literal putty.
So, you thought, why not find that bakery he used to go to (and for some reason won’t go back, you weren’t about to ask why either) and get the little recipe of the sandwich he sometimes would whisper in your ear about like he was dirty talking to you again, and just make it for him? It was a perfect idea to you, and for once Kento wouldn’t practically kick you out of the kitchen whenever you offered to make something for him whenever you had the Holy Grail in your hands and could hover it over his head.
Yeah, it was a good gift, and you only had nonchalantly asked him the name of the place so you were all set the moment he spoke them without a thought in the world. Kento would be ecstatic, and it’d make you feel at ease if you got see that genuine smile spread across his face because he had looked miserable when you went to work that morning and lingered by the front door longer than usual and kissed you goodbye a little harder than normal before you left. Then he’d be less miserable having his favorite sandwich made out for him and sleep like a baby that night with one hand holding your boob like always.
Yeah, everything would work out perfectly.
And considering his reaction and how he was staring at you perched atop his lap embarrassed as you rambled on about everything, you assumed you hit the nail on the head.
Kento had propped an elbow up onto the table, his cheek resting against his knuckles and his thumb rubbing into your hipbone as you finished talking as he had listened so intently with a twinkle in his half-lidded eye and small, smile on his face. “Even when I think I know you, you still continue to surprise me.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, thoroughly smug that you had managed to surprise him in the end and batted your eyelashes at him, “It’s my charm. And it’s not a fun marriage unless we still continue to surprise each other like this.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily know, this is my first marriage.”
“And it better be your only.”
He rolled his eye back, tapping his index finger against his temple and flexing his thighs beneath your body as he stretched them out, as he knew you were only teasing him ever since you laughed in his ear at the old grannies down at Farmer’s Market with hearts in their eyes every time he went and grocery shopped. “I took my vows to heart that day –”
“I know, it was like two pages long –”
“ – Regardless,” he shot you a look, but his reddening cheeks spoke for the most of him, “I’m a monogamous man… for the rest of my life.”
“Like a penguin.”
Kento’s lips twisted into a curl, like he was trying to hold himself back from laughing, “You say my animal documentaries are boring, yet you remember things like that?”
You shrugged and brought yourself closer to him, locking your fingers behind his neck and bringing his cheek in for another kiss, “I think it’s sweet… Anyway, I take it you like your gifts?” you asked with a tilt of uncertainty in your voice, something he caught up on with his intuitive sixth sense when it came to all things regarding you.
Kento moved meticulously, removing his hand from his cheek and to yours as his other slid up to rest on your back with his fingers spread, and it took you a long moment to realize he was touching you with his left hand. All remnants of nearly flawless skin that was once there, and you nearly couldn’t even feel the callousness of it spread out to his fingertips as you had grown so used to it. Kento’s left hand was the hand that held the wedding band, and it was the hand you always took to hold, to kiss, to rub your cheek across in a semblance of your love whenever you couldn’t find the words to tell him and he was going through a bout and your actions spoke louder than your words ever could.
He still looked at you the same way he had whenever you were the first face he saw whenever he woke up from the hospital and the day he saw you at your wedding. And you still had trouble not shying away from his intense gaze like the days you could barely look him in eyes in the beginning of your relationship, but it was all worth it in the end whenever he spoke his affirmations to you.
Kento was not a man of many words per say, more showing his emotions through his actions, but when he did take the time to formulate words of comfort on his tongue to mouth into your skin, you knew he meant every word.
“Of course, anything and everything you given me I cherish, beloved. Getting my favorite sandwich, however…” he trailed off, and you could distinctly hear his stomach grumble in a sign that he had not yet ate. He took that time to drop his hand to rub at your arm, a sigh leaving him that sounded nearly forlorn and you just knew he was already calculating all the parts of the sandwich and critiquing them to his liking. And from what you could see (nearly the damn reflection of the sandwich shining in his eye with sparkles around it), he liked what he saw.
(Honestly, if he had never went into being a salaryman those short years or made his way back into Jujutsu Sorcery, Kento could’ve easily have became a chef if he so wanted. You could vouch for that for the many nights Kento cooked for you and sent you off to work with a packed lunch.)
Though looking at Kento reminded of you of part two for what you wanted to tell him, the corner of the receipt paper it was written on digging into your breast (and probably a little sweaty) as you straightened back up and pulled your face away from his.
“Ah – that reminds me –” you dropped your arms from around his neck before you began unbuttoning your shirt, discreetly eyeing Kento as you did and creasing your lips so that you didn’t laugh whenever you saw his eye widen and face turn that lovely shade of rose when you figured he was thinking you were turning to a more carnal side. Silly, cute, little man, he had seen you naked countless times, but still got slightly embarrassed and would start sweating whenever you started to show him your boobs, and it always fun to tease at him. You didn’t keep him on the edge, afraid he’d combust if you started undressing, and only unbuttoned two to reach into your bra and pull out the folded piece of paper, “Got another little surprise.”
Kento regarded you amused (possibly wondering what else you kept in your bra) before picking the paper up between two fingers and inspecting it with dubious concern. “…It’s wet.”
“I was sweating, okay? It’s hot, now just open it.” You could’ve done without his commentary.
He obliged you, unfolding the receipt carefully before he let his eye roll over the numerous words written down in a row with instructions written next to each one of them, with precise quantities and times because you knew it had to be just perfect. He blinked as he read over them fast, an eyebrow quirking up before looking at you curious to what it all meant, “Ingredients and instructions?”
You leant into him, pressing your forehead against the side of his head and toying with the top two buttons of his shirt, “To your favorite sandwich. Now you or I can make it anytime you want, and be forever grateful to the girl working for giving it to me without an argument.”
His looked somewhat excited as he inspected the paper in his hand, yet the drone of his voice nearly made it sound like he couldn’t bring himself to care. You knew better though, he was just too embarrassed to show his obvious happiness to what you had got him, but the little sigh he let out before speaking was the same one he made whenever you gave him that book. “And how did you manage this?”
“I’m the master of ass-kissing.” (Read: you begged and promised you’d come back with him if she had given it to you.)
“True.”
You slapped his chest lightly and nearly squealed at his little smile, situating yourself in his lap as you turned to look at his favorite sandwich topped off with the gaudy candles that was slowly beginning to wither away before snatching the birthday hat you bought and slapping it atop his head. He looked cute whenever he was disgruntled, especially when the elastic to the hat slapped his chin, but it was even funnier watching his expression wither when you sat the kazoo on your tongue and blew into it right in his face and ear while expressing your excitement, yet again.
“Happy Birthday, Kento! Now blow out your candles and make a wish, birthday boy.”
A few moments passed, and you watched the gears in his head turn as he sat the paper down onto the table, and you nearly wanted to groan when you realized where he was going with his idea.
“Stop. Before you say anything else corny. You have to keep your wish to yourself and maybe it’ll come true.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but did as you asked and blew them out without a second thought. The amber glow of the day fading away as the sky outside turned to dusky purple and left you and Kento alone to enjoy it together, yet you watched curiously as he tore off a part on one half of the sandwich, his arm curling around you to keep you sat snugly in his lap before he brought up the piece and held it against your lips. His voice but yet another warm, soft murmur, mouthed into your cheek and his tongue nearly swiping along your skin.
“Wanna help me eat it?”
The moment you got done eating with him and moved to cleaning (to which you had to ban Kento from the kitchen whenever he tried to even think about helping) and while you had been cleaning, the faintest scent of cigarette smoke and Kento’s preferred cologne reached your nostrils, a thin trail of the smog wiggling into the living from the open balcony door letting you know that Kento had been outside on the balcony where he usually smoked. If there was one thing about him, it was that he was pristine about not letting any smoke come into contact with anything inside, wanting to smoke outside as he did it very rarely before, but after the accident Kento had taken up smoking more than usual. You had told him it wasn’t too good for his lungs, but you couldn’t do much when you remembered he mainly did it as a form of an anxiety reliever and whenever he was stressed… Besides, where he wasn’t too worried about his own health, he constantly fretted over your own and refused to smoke anywhere near where you could secondhand do it.
He never smoked long and when you walked out of the kitchen it wasn’t an odd sight to see him on the couch by then, one hand swirling a glass of whiskey from the bottle that sat on your centerfold table with the blue bow around the neck (courtesy of Mr. Satoru, even adding a little note that said, “Happy Birthday! With Love, Gojo <3” combined with his own chibi drawing of himself throwing up peace signs) with the ice cubes clinking against the rim and his nose already buried in the book you had bought him. He was a sight to behold as well, his bright hair pushed back onto his head with the very small telling sign of a five o’clock shadow growing along his jawline that would be gone as soon as the morning came, his shirt having been deftly unbuttoned to grow accustomed to the heat coming from outside and his skin beginning to finally wane away from that sunburn he had gotten from the trip you two had gone on to Milan two weeks before.
He truly was beautiful, inside and outside, but it was heartbreaking to see him sometimes avoid mirrors or from going out into public on the days he was feeling particularly bad.
You didn’t take long to join him, the soft music he had put on soothing your ears as you eyed the sharpness of his jawline sculpted and shadowed from the sky outside and sat down on your side of couch. You stretched your legs out and toed at his thigh, appreciating his loose slacks on his figure while grabbing his attention, “You like the book?”
“Mm, very much. Thank you again.”
“I’m glad, you had been eyeing it for a while so I knew I just had to buy whenever you wouldn’t…” you reclined back into the many throw pillows on the couch (something was your doing as Kento had been the one to pick out the style and layout of the apartment, but you were giving the reigns to decorations as you seemed fit – especially if the fuzzy throw rug beneath you two spoke for anything) watching his eye move over every word and wondering if he was truly content to stay inside with you for the night. You bit the bullet in the end, knowing you’d only worry yourself to death over him if you didn’t ask. “You sure you don’t wanna go out anywhere else? Gojo and Shoko did invite us to that restaurant you like.”
He peered at you for a long moment before sighing, closing his book and set both it and his drink onto the end table next to him and grabbing your ankles to pull your feet into his lap to rub at them, “I’m more than glad to stay here and spend the night with you. Knowing Gojo he’ll tell the waiters it’s my birthday and I’ll have to sit there and endure that God awful singing… Besides,” he threw his back onto the edge of the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the hard swallow he took as he massaged a particular knotted spot in your foot, “I’m not really one for attention like that.”
Kento never was one for going out into public for celebrations, sure he would occasionally go out to eat and take you out on a date for your anniversary, and he also always made sure to have plans for your birthday, but never was one really for his celebrating his own. You had learned even as a child his mother normally baked him a cake on the day as he and his family celebrated it at their home; a quiet and mundane tradition he seemed to want to carry on into his adult life, and you had no problem obliging that. Kento never minded if only a few people gave him birthday wishes, but a part of you wondered if his newfound insistence to remain home on certain days was still the effect to what had happened to him in Shibuya. He had not seen Gojo in over a year, and the rest that remained even less, but you knew retirement meant usually staying away from all things that were work.
Sure you could hear Gojo’s voice over the phone at times, and you could hear Ijichi asking how he was at times in the night, and it was even better whenever you watched his phone light up with the name Itadori Yuji with text messages, but you knew only talking to them over the phone could only last so long and Kento had to at least go and see them when they all worried over him and constantly asked you about him. Not that you were annoyed over it, but more-so worried Kento was starting to shut himself out again from everyone and keeping his distance from everyone. You supposed he thought his birthday would come and go once more, just another day on the calendar to him and he could continue living out as the years passed and he was at peace with himself.
You weren’t going to dally on it, instead taking in his form that looked more taut with tension than it had been in a while as you preyed upon the slight sheen resting atop his collarbones. It had been awhile since you and Kento had been intimate, something that took some time to open him up to again and something that was still a hit-or-miss situation when it came down to him wanting to indulge in carnal desire, but you never pressed him for it to just instead opting to wait it out whenever he was ready. Though sex had been somewhat different from Kento at times taking you from behind as much as he could, to him not even thinking of himself as he buried his face into you and ate your pussy until you were crying from overstimulation and couldn’t take it anymore, you never really got the chance to worship him much like he did you.
Kento needed to relax, take all worry off his shoulders if just for the time being and enjoy life as he could in the moment. You weren’t about to let that opportunity pass up either whenever you had the chance on a day you were dead-set on showing him all the appreciation and love.
“Then –” you broke the silence, watching him reopen his eye to peek at you first before you wiggled your feet out of his grasp and spread your legs apart as an invitation, “something else for the night?” you asked coyly, refraining from biting your lip when you watched his chest rise and fall from the heavy exhale he took once the skin of your inner thighs came into his view.  
You had thought he’d perhaps politely decline again, telling you he’s not feeling up to it for the night, but you were mildly surprised when he moved for you, his body rolling off from his position as he found himself lowered down in-between your legs. You blinked at how fluidly he moved, having little to no time to even react yourself when he was already there, one on your legs hoisted up over his shoulder as he pressed the other one down into the sofa cushion. He was still gentle as ever; his hand skimming along your inner thighs, his cheeks brushing along your skin as you felt the roughness from the light facial hair and burnt remains on the left side of his face, and of course his lips finding their way to kiss every single inch of you he could until he got to where he wanted to be most.
You were nearly ready to just let him have it that way, your clit already throbbing in anticipation when you remembered just how good Kento was at eating you out and how good it felt when he knew just how to bob his nose along your clit, but you remembered that it wasn’t about you that night and you were set on a mission to make him feel the most good instead of his usual lenience to cater to you most of all. Kento kissed and sucked at a spot on your inner thigh for a brief moment, his fingers creeping up to find the edge of your panties before your hands shot down and one curled around his wrist and the other tangled into the locks of his hair in a gentle squeeze. You had done it in the heat of the moment to keep yourself from drowning into him; a knee-jerk reaction that made Kento balk and nearly push himself away from you if you hadn’t spoke for your intentions.
“Wait – not like this.”
Sneaking a peak down to him you almost wanted to reassure him from the slightly cautious look in his eye, his chin dipping back into his chest nearly like he was afraid to get to close to you again without knowing exactly what you wanted from him as he spoke slowly and so quietly you wanted to sigh at his brief relapse of insecurity.
“You don’t want me to eat you out?”
This man… It wasn’t that at all. You frowned, cheeks warm despite your annoyance to completely ignore himself and swatted at him from between your legs, “Are you forgetting today isn’t about me?”
Kento had the gall to look confused, brow knitted and cheeks turning pink as his lips fell into a thin line, “I always eat your pussy when we have sex.” Why did he have to say it like he was droning on about workplace harassment to Gojo again? Not only that, he nearly looked like he was ready to pout he couldn’t face dive into your pussy and drown himself in there like he was drinking from the scared rivers of Eden.
You leant back on your elbows and rolled your eyes, your skirt sliding up as you did and leaving you reeling in the slight satisfaction you got watching his eyes dart down for brief second to catch a glimpse of the panties you put on for him, and slid your leg off of his shoulder, “Yes, I know, and I do brag about it to my friends a lot –” He nearly looked mortified before rolling his eye. “ – but that’s not the point. Today I just wanna give you the appreciation you deserve…”
Kento only blinked at your words, his eye glazing over for a moment before he looked damn near ashamed and shy from his spot in-between your legs and released his hold on your thighs to sit back upright on the couch. He kept his body open however, legs spread and arms open to invite you into him, but you could still see the slight stiffness present in his shoulders as he sat there awaiting you into his arms. He swallowed once, looking unsure for but a brief moment, before he gave you his verbal consent that he wanted to continue, knowing you weren’t going to move unless you knew he wanted you to.
“Come here.”
You offered him a small smile in return before crawling over to him, not finding yourself in his lap just then as you gave him yet another kiss to cheek and trailed on over to his ear lobe, whispering into his ear in a churning murmur to let him know your true thoughts. “Something else for the night?” Only a rumbling hum was your answer, the heat behind your naval already burning with unbridled want as he leaned back fully and let you straddle his lap, your knees digging into the cushions of the couch and you breasts pushed up against the broadness of his own as you snuck your fingers up to his face once more. You were tracing over his brow bone when he answered you, a mumble as soft as the sheets felt whenever he took you on your wedding night and you fully became husband and wife with the kiss that you had dreamt of for years.
“Okay… Something else this time.”
Kento’s breath stuttered the moment you moved over to his eyepatch, meeting that one umber iris for a second before you got the approval and were able to remove it with his permission. You discarded it next to the both of you as you leaned in to place a soft kiss to where his left eye used to sit, his chest heaving with a hiccupping sigh as you moved a hand to comb through his hair and trailing down to trace his jawline with only but your fingertips. You didn’t waste any time to move your lips down to his own, planting a slow kiss there with as much passion as you always did because the scars never really did bother you, nor did the mismatched feeling of his mouth on your own or sucking along your skin turn you off to him in anyway whatsoever. It was a slow song you teetered to, opening up your arms to him as you swayed in front of him gently opening him up to the idea until he got comfortable to get up and join you.
When his hand landed on your lower back to knead in your skin and muscle with his knuckles, you knew he was complying to let you take control for the night and cater to him much like he did you all those times. Though he was still somewhat unsure as his sigh shakily and ran a finger up your spine while speaking into your kiss, “Can… can we just go slow… Just be easy tonight; no rush. And nothing too intense.”
You leant up to kiss his forehead, a sheen of light sweat making itself known on his skin there, and pushed his hair behind his ear as you answered, “Of course. Anything you want.”
You could smell the smoke and whiskey as he blew a breath of relief into your face, his mouth finding yours again for another kiss, “Thank you.”
You pulled away from his lips and cupped his cheeks, smiling against his lips as you whispered against them just what you thought about him, “You’re pretty.”
Within your palms you could feel his cheeks warm and watched his eyebrow tick upwards at the compliment, the evidence of his embarrassment there despite how steady his voice remained when he answered you, “I don’t think that word suits someone like me.”
“Don’t deflect,” you sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth as you knew good and well that he knew why you were saying it, “You’re handsome; beautiful; other-worldly… How about those?”
Kento’s face was visibly turning redder as you named off every word that you could to describe him, his fingers knotting in the back of your shirt as he balled it up and you felt his jaw shake to formulate a response. When he seemed unresponsive you settled for a kiss you placed onto his jawline to ease him, your fingers sliding down along his neck and collarbones until you found the buttons of his shirt and began plucking them free as his hands returned to smoothing out along your back. Sometimes it was better to play into Kento’s body language with your own, as he was a man of very few words at times and it was an easier route to show him your comfort through actions pertaining towards your delicate nature towards him instead of words that would only fluster and overstimulate him.
He let you map out his body as you pulled his shirt apart, fingertips gentle as they ran over the more predominate area of his skin covered in scars and lost skin. You could feel the uncertainty in his taut muscles, the desire to perhaps cover himself back up from the way you were following the moments of your fingers along his skin with your eyes, and you had to stop yourself for a moment as when you skimmed his abdomen it flexed harshly as you brushed across a long wounded scar from a fight years before the accident. You looked back up to him from underneath you eyelashes, his head having tipped back a fraction as you eased him back to look at you and to only admire his features in the violet dusk from outside for a moment before you remembered you had to keep up the reassurance.
“Is this okay?” you asked, running a thumb underneath the eye and enjoying the feeling of his eyelashes kissing your skin whenever he blinked.
You gauged his reaction as he held your gaze, something glimmering in the lonely iris as his pupil dilated when he stared for seconds longer and sighed shakily before finally answering, “It’s okay.”
It was the reassurance and encouragement you needed, keeping your touch light as you wiggled back onto his lap but a few inches and your hand on his hip trailed down to his pants, enough to reach and see what you had been easing him into already showing through his loose slacks. You spread your fingers across his pectoral, his heartbeat steady against your palm as you cupped him through his pants, running a finger along what you knew what the tip and switching to full on rubbing him through the cloth when you heard the sigh leave him as you touched him.
“Still okay?” you repeated once more, experimentally wrapping your fingers around what you could of his cock and squeezing him. Your skin prickled whenever he groaned softly, a pant on the edge of his tongue as your stomach twisted with phantom butterflies when you remembered all the breathy noises he would make in your ear and neck when he was losing himself to your touch or inside of you.
“Still okay,” he answered, his head falling back onto the back of the couch again and causing your hand to drift up towards the waistband of his pants when you took it as a sign to continue further and take the next step. You hummed as you leaned into him, pressing a kiss in the middle of his pectorals as you slid your hand into his pants and briefs fully to touch him.
His low sighs encouraged you, peppering kisses along his torso much like he did your own before in your own form of body worship. Once you got closer to his nipple and you allowed your lips to close around it for you to suck on, a higher-pitched noise sounding like a whine leaving him as he gave a full body jerk. You latched off his hardened nipple and blinked coyly up at him, watching as he kept his eyes on the ceiling and his parted, pink lips continuing to match the coloring on his cheeks while your hand finally pulled his cock free from his pants into the open air and for your eyes to see.
It was already deepening into a red, his veins engorged as it throbbed in your hand and you traced a finger along the vein protruding from the underside of him. You only watched with an inward sigh as precum began to leak from his head, feather-light touches you kept along the sensitive region as he jerked his hips underneath you while you lubed your hand up with his fluids, and whines disguised as hisses escaped through his clenched his teeth when you swirled your thumb along his tip the way you knew he liked it.
His tone was slightly shaky when he spoke again, chest heaving and his fingers digging into your shirt, “Don’t tease. Please – just touch me.” He was perhaps a bit too whiney for his own liking as his breathing began to speed up when you dipped back down to kiss along his chest and fully wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off, but you realized he was in no place to necessarily to care when you were easing into comforted euphoria once more.
You hummed against his hot skin, amping up your ministrations a bit as you closed your teeth around the nipple you had in your mouth in a playful bite and only letting up when you heard the soft groan he gave while hips lifted marginally off the couch. You pressed a kiss to it afterwards before beginning to slide your lips down to kiss sweetly along the rest of his scars, and letting your hand fondle at his nipple instead, squeezing, tugging and all around fondling it as you kissed and sucked around rest of his body while your hand kept up a steady rhythm up and down his cock.
With Kento’s soft groans, slight whining, pants egging you on, you kissed some of the old, fading scars tenderly only knowing they existed in the times you spent tracing a finger around his skin those nights you spent cuddling. You kissed them with an overwhelming amount of affection, a reminder that he was still gorgeous with them and a reminder that he was strong enduring even the harshest of battles and coming out from them alive. He blew air through his mouth then again, a sigh so soft and full of longing it made you realize he had never been given attention towards his body like that without it being blatant ogling at his chest straining against his shirts.
Each kiss you placed onto his warm skin made you sigh afterwards, discreetly inhaling his scent each time you did so for how good he smelled and how his natural scent brought you comfort more than you could imagine. As you felt along his body, you began to feel the jittery nerves he had before slowly begin crawl back into the depths of his mind to be forgotten for the time and to be replaced with the carnal lust and the burning affection you both held for each other.  
A grunt fell out of him and his hand flew up to grip your nape when you felt him twitch from the all the overwhelming attention, pulling your body closer to him than you thought was possible as he maneuvered your head back up to him so that his breath sifted across and into your ear. You squirmed from the sensation as it made you rock your hips onto his lap when you remembered all the dampness present in your underwear and it was something he caught onto as it was beginning to seep through your panties and onto his pants.
Kento’s thumb rubbed at your nape, his lips pressing a kiss to ear lobe before he spoke, “You can’t sit here and only think about me,” his fingers left your back and you felt them dance along your inner thigh, creeping up your skirt and towards your panties as you kissed at his jaw once more, “Do you want me to touch you?”
You latched off of his skin and moved to slightly bite his earlobe, hotly whispering into his ear while your hand slowly picked up a pace, “It’s not about me.”
He was ever persistent though – a blessing to have a man like him more worried about your pleasure than his own in some cases, but also terribly inconvenient in situations like you were in then when you wanted to be the one in charge and making him feel good before yourself. His hand moved to grip your hip, his breaths falling from parted lips by then and his hips rocking upwards the follow the way you pumped his cock, “But –” he started off, a whine barely there hidden underneath his wavering voice of reason.
“It’s okay. Just relax,” you cut him off, reassuring him as you lifted up on your knees a fraction to maneuver your body to have his one thigh trapped between your legs. Kento only watched you as you slowly plopped down onto his thigh, your panties all but soaked by then and your clit tingling for attention as you leisurely rocked once and sighed whenever you felt your nerves calm down a fraction from the heated pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to build up a lethargic pace, and Kento only groaned in approval when he watched you start to ride his thigh, his arm wrapping around you to cage you closer into him and tensing and flexing his thigh whenever rolled down and back up atop him.
One of your hands slid up to his shoulder, gripping him there as you nuzzled into his neck and followed the moments of your hand pumping his cock to the way your hips were rolling against his thigh. Your body moved in alternate pivots, long deep strokes around that taut, muscular appendage, or just circling your hips around so that your clothed clit was given the friction it so desired. He was burning in your hand, the veins throbbing and his lips pushing out every noise he could muster as you knew he wouldn’t last long; it had been far too long since you got Kento in that position and it had been far too long since had allowed himself to be laid upon a bed of pleasure. It made you sigh, legs closing around his thigh tighter as you rubbed your knee oh-so gently in a circle along his balls and had to bite your lip from moaning whenever that fucking whimper left him and made your pussy clench around nothing.
Your words drew another one of those damnable whimpers out of him, his chest all but heaving and his hips rocking desperately faster up into your hand as a silent plea for you to go faster. You only hummed in delight at his keening, peppering kisses across every inch of his face that you could and massaging your hand into the tautness along his shoulder when he seemed to melt into your touch. You could feel another thick trickle of precum ooze free from his cock, and you moved your face back into his to bring your foreheads together, a flutter erupting free inside of your pussy whenever Kento kept his eye locked onto yours, following each mouthwatering movement you gave to him and onto him and the look inside of his pupil was enough to set your entire soul ablaze from all the hues of passion bursting free like a kaleidoscope the longer he kept your gaze.
Your eyelashes fluttered when you took in his expression; kiss-swelled parted lips, his eye bright, clouded, and dilated, flustered cheeks, brow scrunched in an attractive crease, and the heavy sighs leaving his mouth as he bored his gaze over every inch of your face. It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as did knowing that he was glad to have you pleasing him like you were, but seeing his face really careened you down the path of your impending release that was growing oh-so close.
You could feel the patch of wetness you were leaving on his thigh, and you knew then that you weren’t going to last long – especially having Kento in your palm and riding off the thrill of you being in charge that time around in the throes of desire.
Kento sighed your name onto your lips, another whimper drawing free of him as his cock throbbed into his hand and his hand fell off of your nape to grip your hip and following in on your lascivious movements atop his thigh. “Please – Don’t stop.”
You kissed him before nibbling onto his bottom lip, nails beginning to dig through his shirt when each roll of your clit sent an electrifying pulse towards that knot steadily growing to its head just behind your naval. He groaned again whenever you pumped your hand faster, your knee gently caressing his balls still as you rocked yourself on his thigh before you sighed and breathily asked what you knew would tip him over the edge, “Are you gonna cum for me, Kento?”
A garbled variation of your name left him, fingers digging harder into your hip as his hips jerked up quicker in your hand and he tried his damnedest to get you to move faster – harder against his thigh, but you were giving no game for that. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the audible hard swallow he took, his eye fluttering with the heavy blinks from everything happening as his eye glazed over with the full emotion that was close to his release. “Oh, fuck – please. Please keep going.
“I know you can cum like this,” you moaned into his face, kissing him as you swallowed that whimper once more and rolled your hips harder along his tensed thigh, moving your mouth to suck at his jaw whenever his noises grew louder, “God, I know you want to, Kento. Let me see you cum like this.”
Your voice had tapered off at the end, a high-pitched moan leaving you when you pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing as you felt that ball begin to reach in end of spinning and slowly begin to unravel for a piece of nirvana you could find with him. His grunts you swallowed with your tongue, a kiss full of unbridled passion you two engaged in that he greedily accepted as you two no longer had any words to say. You both knew what was to come, and neither of you were going to be deterred to stop it.
Your neediness you were sure had him reeling, his cock throbbing excessively in your hand as you squeezed him and pumped him faster to help him reach his edge. You could feel him whimper again, a suspicious noise that vaguely sounded like him telling you he loved you before he broke away from the kiss, head falling back against the couch once more and a pleased and strained groan breaking free from his lungs to let you know he had came first. You took to kissing and tonguing at his neck, moaning and sighing your praise for him as he finally released all the pent up tension into your hand.
It was a second and then you felt his cock pulsate in your hand before it was spurting out against your shirt and hand, leaving behind warm cum in its wake. You quickly removed your hand knowing he was probably sensitive, but kept yourself securely atop his thigh rocking as he caught his breath. Kento’s chest was heaving and in the low light of your living room you were able to make a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead with his hair tussled from all your ministrations. It was enough to send you over as well, a particular slow roll of your hips up his thigh that he flexed once more and you were shuddering and twitching around him with a whine of his name as you came all over his thigh whilst throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.
A hard tremor of extreme satisfaction stung from your cranium down to the tips of your toes, leaving you squirming as your shaking thighs tried to close around his own while he continued only encouraging you until you were at your very end and sagging into his awaiting arms. You were well aware you had probably soaked through pants, but you were none too caring since he didn’t seem to mind at all and at times it was a regular occurrence between you two. The soft music from before was still playing as the room became humid from your conjoined bodies, the city skyline having waned away to dark as the touch of the full moon came into play and brightened Tokyo for yet another time.
You could feel your heart pound against your ribcage while you both seemed to finally come to rest after cumming, and he was dragging your body off his own to look over you and blinking down at you like he wasn’t seeing you clearly. It was one blink, two, three, then the cloud in his eye lifted and his gaze was skating down from your face and all over the expanse of your figure, awareness coming to them when he spied the mess on your shirt and remembered that he came all over your hand, then he was bristling.   
Kento was shifting to sit up, taking precaution to not jostle you and his words coming out a low murmur, “Sorry… I’ll –”
You hushed him, placing a kiss to his lips and untangling yourself from his limbs and you stood somewhat wobbly and he reached forward to catch you by your hips to make sure you didn’t fall. You brushed out of his hands and pushed him back to sit into the couch, a soft smile on your lips before you straightened back up, “You’re okay, stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Kento was generally the one who took to cleaning you both up afterwards, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him be the one to do so that time around when you were trying to make him feel the same way he usually did with you. He had complied you with staying put as you came back from the bathroom with a few sheets of tissues, eyeing you carefully as you wiped your hand off first before tending to him. You were meticulous in the way you catered to him, dabbing at some cum stains that had gotten onto his stomach, even some spots that had spattered against his chest before tending to the lipstick stains all over him as you watched his cheeks flush from all the attention you were giving him.
You nearly wanted to giggle at his embarrassment, but held it in to not ruin the gentle moment between you two as you finished up cleaning the both of you, discarded the tissues into the trash, and crawled your way back into his lap that he was awaiting for you once more with open arms. You curled into him as his hand stroked along your back, your own hands finding way to his scars again as you absentmindedly would do at night whenever he was tremoring from a long-lost memory. Kento shuddered when you passed by that one on his side again, curling his fingers around your wrist to bring it up his lips for kiss as you pulled yourself up into his face.
“Happy Birthday,” you reminded him again, kissing his hot cheek and relishing in the soft sigh he gave, “What’d you wish for?”
You were glad to see the humor return back to his expression, his lips quirking up at the edges and his eye sliding into yours as he reached for your cheek to pinch it, “Aren’t you the one who told me not to tell you my wish? That it’ll come true if I don’t say it aloud?”
A pout fell on your lips, “That’s never stopped you before… C’mon, please? For me?”
His eye rolled back at your whining, but he was never one not to cave into your begging as his hand smoothed out against your cheek while you toyed with a strand of his hair that had curled up from sweat. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone and he made a show to slowly move his mouth back to yours, lidding his eye almost suggestively as he kissed you so delicately and murmured against your mouth so silently you had to strain to hear him.
“I wished that I could spend the rest of my birthdays with you.”
You giggled into the kiss, corny as you expected, but also giddy with the intention behind his wish as you took your hand to place it back onto his chest, fingers spread and his heart beating in sync with your own. It was enough to let him know you wished for the same, but you confirmed it verbally with a playful bite to his lip and a sigh when you embraced him and tucked him into your neck, his lips pulled into a smile something you could feel burning along your throat.
“I think we can make that work.”
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undressrehearsal · 2 months ago
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a bite of luxury
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summary: you decide to look for a sugar mommy and stumble across this strange girl that seems to have more to hide
tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie (yep, we got it all) alcohol, reader is poor lmao, reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl once or twice, no smut in this one sorry gotta establish the world first
word count: ~8k
a/n: it's been so long since i posted a fic lol working full time and trying to finish my book is killing my schedule BUT i hope y'all like this this was my fiancee's idea and i'm running with it i got a LOT of plans for this one - plans i think y'all are gonna love
also the drawing in the cover is made by @nramv seriously go check out their work they're so talented!!
if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!
You hadn’t been searching for a sugar mommy. 
Truthfully, when your best friend had sent you the link, you had dismissed it immediately. She had been joking about it for months, talking about how much easier it would be if you just found a nice older woman to take care of you. You hadn’t even opened the link - you only rolled your eyes, replied with a middle finger emoji, and left it at that. 
And yet things kept piling up. The stack of bills on your kitchen counter was growing to a concerning height, a mountain of unanswered responsibilities that was getting harder to ignore. Your landlord kept calling you - you no longer answered, just watched the phone ring until it finally stopped and ignored the increasingly angrier voicemails. Your apartment was an absolute disaster; you could never be bothered to clean it, because by the time you got home from working both of your jobs, you only had enough energy to eat a bowl of leftovers and promptly pass out in bed. 
The link kept popping up in your mind, each bill in your mailbox a gentle reminder. You found yourself scrolling all the way up the text chain to find it again during sleepless nights. So many times you would only stare at it, your thumb hovering over the blue letters, before you closed the chat and threw your phone down. 
It was stupid, of course. But as time went on, the idea of letting yourself get buried alive under a mountain of debt - of getting evicted from your apartment and having to crash on your friend’s couch - seemed all the more stupid. 
So, late on a Thursday night, after you had had another anxiety attack staring down at your bank account, you went back up the text chain, and you clicked the link. 
www.seeking.com
It didn't take long for the messages to start coming in. You should have been flattered, honestly - you had at least a handful of people in your messages practically begging you for the honor of paying your fucking rent - but you really just felt like you were playing a part that you hadn't even read the script for. You had curated your profile with all the things that made you appear more cultured than you actually were: going to museums and pondering over Baroque art and reading poetry over a pretentious cup of coffee. Sure, these were all things you had done - you had photo proof, after all - but somehow you didn't recognize yourself. It felt like you were looking at pictures of a stranger living a life you wanted but couldn't reach. 
Most people were fine - charming, even. You got maybe one or two that felt like they would lure you into their sex dungeon to murder you, but that was expected with any dating site. You even went on a few dates, scrounging up the nicest dress you owned and getting pampered at a five-star restaurant or going for a ride on an older woman’s personal yacht. One person even took you for a helicopter ride, which was fun but she was a little too handsy on the first date to warrant a second. 
One name kept popping up though, a name that was becoming far too familiar in your notifications. 
ellie: meet me at 8 <3 
When she first messaged you, you had thought she was like you: somebody searching for a partner to pay their bills. Her pictures didn't exactly scream sugar mommy material. Her first picture was just a normal selfie taken outside; she wore a worn out leather jacket, her short hair tangled from the wind and green eyes squinting in the sunlight. She had stupid pictures of mushrooms and candid shots of her browsing a science museum, looking far too excited in front of a t-rex skeleton. Hell, in most of her pictures she looked like she was wearing clothes she had found at a thrift store.
You had thought she was like you, until she sent you a picture inside her fucking Rolls-Royce. 
“Fuck,” you audibly cursed into the quiet of your room. You had been talking for a few days, and she had begun to do that - sending you small selfies throughout the day. In the last one, she had taken a picture in front of the mirror at the gym, flicking off the camera, her lean muscles glistening with sweat. Before that, it had been a blurry picture of her dog, Riley - a huge German Shephard - splayed on her back at a park, leaves stuck in her fur. 
So, yeah, when you found out Ellie was not only rich, but rich enough to casually have a Royce, you were more than a little surprised. 
The selfie was cute, you couldn’t deny that. Her hair was wind-swept, catching in those long ass eyelashes. Ellie’s nose was scrunched up, freckles popping against her cheeks, holding up a peace sign. 
She was fucking adorable and you already knew it. But seeing her worn out leather jacket and messy hair against black and white leather seats that looked like they, alone, cost more than your entire apartment complex combined - it was a little jarring. 
And when she asked you out on a date soon after - after finding out she wasn’t Iike you but rather searching for someone like you - how could you say no? 
Ellie offered to pick you up - like a gentleman, she had said - but frankly, you weren’t quite convinced yet that she wasn’t some blood-thirsty pervert trying to lure you into her dungeon, so you politely declined. Instead, in your nicest dress and heels you hardly wore because they pinched your toes, you called an Uber. 
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You had never been to this side of town. You had plugged in the address Ellie gave you - had double and triple checked it while your awkwardly chatty Uber driver tried asking you about what you do for a living - but the streets here were so unfamiliar you may as well have been in another city. You looked at the foreign buildings rising up around you, large windows giving you a glimpse of the life inside them. People were sitting outside in the chilly air, laughing over wine and dinner. Looking at them - with perfectly sculpted hair and clothes you would have to spend several entire paychecks on - you felt like a cheap impersonator dressed up in a costume. 
The Uber pulled up in front of a hotel, and your heart stopped. Surely, this wasn’t where Ellie had sent you - leading you to some fucking hotel room when you hadn’t even met yet? 
You turned to the driver, your home address at the edge of your tongue, when the car door opened. 
You had practically been leaning against the door to peer out the window, and nearly lost your balance when it was suddenly gone without warning. You looked up, ready to yell at whatever pretentious prick in Prada was trying to fuck with you - but your voice died in your throat. 
Ellie was shorter than you thought she'd be, honestly. In all her pictures, she had this commanding energy, like she would tower over you in person. 
Which, to be fair, she was. She had her arm propped on the doorframe above your head, leaning over so she could meet your eyes. Her hair was pushed back from her face, a few stray strands falling over her forehead, and she was looking at you with an intensity that hadn't quite translated through her pictures.
Ellie smiled - that adorably crooked smile you had seen in all her selfies - and said, “Hi.” 
And the only word you were able to get your mouth to form was, “Fuck.” 
Ellie blinked at you for a moment - long enough that you could feel the flush creeping up your neck and were ready to walk home if you had to - before she finally laughed. That wasn’t like what you had expected either; she had this deep, rough laugh, almost like she was trying to hold it in. 
She looked up at you through her lashes - you tried to ignore the way your heart inexplicably skipped - and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment?” Her voice tilted up at the end like it was a question. Ellie ducked her head down further, looking past you to meet the driver’s eyes, and pulled cash from her back pocket. With her most charming smile, she handed it to the driver and said, “Thanks for getting her here safe.” 
You didn’t see how much money she gave him, but after she took your hand and guided you out of the car, you turned back just in time to see his grin before he sped off. 
“Thanks for coming out.” You looked back at Ellie and found yourself speechless once again. (You, thankfully, were able to hold in the expletive this time.) The worn out jacket that had featured in just about all of her pictures was missing, replaced instead by a pristine, white satin shirt, the top few buttons undone to expose a sliver of collarbone and a gold chain beneath. Despite the chill in the air, she had a classy black jacket hanging from her arm as though it were an accessory. Ellie smiled and looked down, licking her lips before saying, “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.”
You tried to smile at her but found that your eyes kept flitting behind her, looking at the looming monstrosity of the hotel. It was a nice hotel - the kind that had a huge fountain right in front of it and a chandelier in the lobby that sparkled through the window - but it was a hotel nonetheless. Despite the set in your jaw, traitorous tears stung the corners of your eyes; you wanted to kick yourself for actually thinking that Ellie might be different. 
Ellie followed your gaze over her shoulder, her smile dropping, before she quickly turned back to you with panic in her eyes. She stumbled over her words as though her tongue weren’t cooperating: “Shit, I’m sorry, this looks really bad doesn't it?” She grimaced and squeezed your hand she was still holding, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head with the other. “Fuck, this isn’t the first impression I wanted. I could promise it's not what it looks like, but maybe it'd be better if I just showed you?”
You honestly did think about telling her to fuck off. She was a complete fucking stranger that you only really knew from a dating app, and she was trying to lure you into a hotel in a part of town you were unfamiliar with - really, only an idiot would follow her. 
But she was looking at you with wide green eyes, the lights around you shining back like stars. While searching for the constellations, you found yourself saying, “Okay.” You blinked, pulled from a trance, and added, “But you should know, I do have a taser in my bag.” 
That pulled a shocked laugh from Ellie’s lips. She gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the door, and said, “Smart girl.” 
You knew that the hotel was outside of your price range because a perfectly groomed doorman opened the door for you, waving you inside with a gloved hand. You didn’t take much time to process the interior - the chandelier was just as grand as it had seemed from outside and elaborate columns rose to the ceiling - because Elllie was pulling you towards the elevators. It was like she wanted to ignore the fact that she had brought you to a hotel at all. You couldn’t decide if that was reassuring. 
In the empty elevator, you gently drew your hand back and leaned against the wall opposite her. You tried to ignore looking at the way her pinstripe slacks hugged the curves of her thighs, the fabric straining when she propped one booted foot on the wall behind her. 
“So,” you started in a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence, “if you’re not leading me into a seedy hotel room on the first date, then what are we doing?” 
“Okay, one,” Ellie said, chuckling, “this is anything but a seedy hotel. And two, what kind of a date would it be if I ruined the surprise?” 
“And what if I don’t like surprises?” you countered. 
Ellie grinned. “I think you’ll like this one.” 
When the elevator doors opened, Ellie held her hand out to you as though it were a question. You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand back in hers and letting her lead you out into open air. 
You nearly choked on a gasp. 
The bar itself was beautiful - fairy lights stretched above your head, twinkling like stars and casting the rooftop in a warm glow. Wooden tables and plush couches were spread artfully around the space, far enough apart to provide the patrons scattered about with some privacy. 
The bar was beautiful - but the view was fucking breathtaking. 
The city stretched out beyond the railings, open in a way you had never seen before. The skyline rose around you, each building shining like its own little galaxy amidst a sea of stars. The city lights blocked out the actual stars - a fact that never failed to piss you off - but you could see the crescent of the moon rising over the city, casting a quiet glow like a veil. 
You looked back at Ellie, and whatever your face held made her grin. She leaned in just enough so that her murmur was for your ears only: “So, was I right?” 
You blinked, momentarily distracted by her proximity - she smelled intoxicating, spicy and warm with a hint of tobacco beneath - before you finally said, “What?” 
Ellie snorted, breaking whatever spell she had put you under. “The surprise,” she said, leaning away enough for your head to clear. “Was I right?” 
You bit the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips as though you had to think about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the skyline stretched before you. 
You finally said, “That depends on how good the drinks are.” 
When Ellie laughed, her eyes crinkled in the corners, her nose scrunching. It was a full, rich sound, hanging in the air above your head like helium. It made something in your chest tighten, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 
She squeezed your hand, a twinkle in her eye, and said, “The old-fashioned's to die for.” 
You pursed your lips again to hide your smile.
Ellie didn’t bother checking in with the host, simply shot her a smile and a wave as you walked by - you tried to bite back a giggle when you saw the host’s face turn red, her eyes tracking Ellie as she led you to a table right along the edge of the railing. She pulled the chair out for you - “Such a gentleman,” you laughed - before taking the seat opposite you.
As she waved over a waiter, you took a moment to lean your head over the railing. It was made entirely of glass, giving you a clear view of the city below. You could hear the distant sound of traffic, cars racing below you like shiny beetles, but it was like it was coming from a different world altogether. Everything seemed impossibly, wonderfully small from up here. 
You looked up at the sound of your name to find a groomed waiter wearing a fucking waistcoat standing before you. Ellie was looking at you with laughter in her eyes, her lips twitching. 
“Shit, sorry,” you said, immediately flinching at your own curse. You suddenly couldn’t remember the proper etiquette in a fancy bar, feeling out of place and underdressed even in your nicest outfit. You looked between Ellie and the waiter, wracking your brain for any kind of drink that wasn’t a trashy cocktail you’d find at a dive bar. 
Seeing you floundering, Ellie gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Do you like wine?” 
Relief washed over you as you nodded. Turning back to the waiter, Ellie ordered something that you couldn’t even hope to pronounce, charm lifting the corner of her mouth. She spoke to the waiter with the steady ease of familiarity, laughing at some inside joke; you briefly wondered just how often Ellie came to this bar. Surely, a nice place like this - at the very precipice of the world, looking down at the stars - wouldn’t be a regular stop on anyone’s schedule, but Ellie and the staff spoke like old friends. 
When the waiter left, tussling Ellie’s hair playfully, she turned back to you and the awkwardness of a first date finally set in. Sure, you had been texting Ellie every day for a week now, but you still hardly knew the girl. You knew she liked mushrooms and hiking. You knew that most of her clothes were from the thrift store even though she could afford any designer brand she wanted. You knew her favorite video game was Dishonored. But nothing you knew was enough for a relationship. 
But you weren't exactly looking for love, were you? 
After a moment of silence, Ellie cleared her throat, looking out over the city. “It's nice out here.” 
You snorted before you could stop yourself, covering your mouth; it didn't cover the laughter in your eyes. You said, “You're really talking to me about the weather?”
Ellie opened her mouth, an indignant sparkle to her eye, before shutting it again. It was like she was malfunctioning, opening and closing her mouth yet no sound came out. She furrowed her brows, looking at you as though you were something new and interesting, before finally chuckling, looking away. “Yeah, I-I guess I am.” When she looked back up at you, her eyes were surprisingly sheepish. “Not making a great first impression, am I?”
You couldn't stop the smile that crept up to your eyes. You leaned closer, propping your chin in your hand, and said, “I think you're doing okay so far.” 
Ellie laughed that wondrous laugh again, her nose scrunching up, and the cord in your shoulders loosened. 
“Okay,” she sighed, her eyes still alight with residual laughter. “Okay, damn. Tell me about yourself.” 
“Well now this just sounds like a job interview.” 
Ellie threw her hands up in mock frustration, trying to stifle her own grin. “Okay, fuck, knock me down again! You're obviously an expert, so show me how it's done.” 
She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking at you expectantly, and it was the perfect moment for your drinks to arrive. Ellie did, in fact, order an old-fashioned. The waiter set two wine glasses on the table, producing a bottle seemingly from thin air. He held it out, explaining to you in rehearsed prose the year, acidity, and complexity in words that passed straight through you. You nodded along even as you didn't process a single word he said. 
When he left, you turned back to Ellie and said, “How did you find this place?” 
Ellie took a sip of her drink. The lights of the city danced in the amber glass. “Just an old haunt of mine, I guess.” 
You took a sip of the wine, taking the distraction. It was warm on your tongue, tasting of wood and fruit and something spicy just underneath. The wine you usually drank was the stuff you could find in your nearest grocery store, often tasting concerningly like bug spray and bought with whatever tips you had managed to scrape together from work. It was usually shared with a friend on your kitchen floor, the walls and thoughts spinning over your head. 
You much preferred wine like this: The taste of warmth and fire on your tongue, the cool air brushing your shoulders at the edge of the sky, and a beautiful person sitting across from you.
When Ellie lowered her glass, you could see amber droplets of whiskey clinging to her lips before her tongue darted out to catch them. You tore your eyes away, but her smile said that she had caught you staring. A chill ran up your spine that you were sure was just from the cold. 
Seeing you shiver, Ellie wordless reached behind her where she had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair. Standing, she rounded the table only for a moment, only long enough to place the coat over your shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a second too long before she retreated, sliding back into her seat as though she had never moved. 
“So, why are you here?” she finally said. 
You pulled the jacket around your shoulders, distracted by the smell of it. The same smell that must be her perfume clung to it, spiced and warm like an open fire, but something else clung to the fabric too. It was strangely metallic, sharp and intoxicating, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was shockingly warm against your skin. 
“I’m here,” you said, raising a brow and ignoring her real question, “because you sent me this address and told me to meet you here at eight wearing my nicest dress.” 
The corner of Ellie’s lips quirked, a grin she was trying to hide. She clasped her hands, leaning across the table so you could smell the whiskey on her breath. “And you agreed to meet a stranger at a seedy hotel,” she murmured, mocking your remark from earlier. Her grin revealed itself when your cheeks flushed. “But why are you here - what are you seeking?” 
You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s kind of a dumb question, don’t you think? It’s pretty obvious why I’m on the app.” You cocked your head, leaning across the table, feeling a strange thrill when her eyes flashed. Your heart fluttered at the proximity, and you couldn’t remember when you had become so easily starstruck. “The real question, Ellie, is why are you?“ 
Ellie’s eyes darkened, and you weren’t sure if you just imagined her eyes flicking down to your lips. She looked back up at you through her lashes, her voice rough when she said, “That’s a third date kind of question.” 
Your eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure you’ll get a third date?” 
Ellie tilted her head, a slow smile pulling at her lips, and said, “Call it a hunch.” 
The waiter came to check on you, appearing at your shoulder like a ghost. You hastily retreated, leaning back in your chair as though the electricity in the air had shocked you, and took a sip of wine that was more than a little overzealous. You tried to choke it down as Ellie waved the waiter away with that heartstopping crooked smile. What happened to you? Since when were you so easily charmed by freckles, green eyes, and smart-ass comments? You couldn't remember the last time you had been so infatuated during a normal date, let alone one with these kinds of strings attached. 
“So you don't want to be in an interview,” Ellie said once the waiter was out of earshot. “I guess all my typical getting to know you conversations are out of the question.” 
“I didn't say that,” you countered, your throat still burning from your accidental wine waterboarding. “But come on - what girl are you going to impress by asking her questions like ‘Tell me about yourself,’ or ‘Why are you here?’ or ‘Why are you more qualified for this position?’”
“Okay, okay, goddamn,” she said, laughing. Grabbing the wine bottle, she looked at you for permission before pouring you another glass.
You brought the glass up to your lips, taking a sip to hide your smile. The flush in your cheeks was surely from the wine and nothing else. “What about you?” 
“What about me?” 
“I hardly know you.” On one hand, that felt entirely untrue - but especially after this recent discovery, you really knew nothing about this girl. “Tell me about you.” 
Ellie laughed that same rough laugh and your heart jumped. “Oh, so you're allowed to be the interviewer.” 
You nodded, twirling the glass between your fingers and looking at her expectantly. 
After a moment, Ellie rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, but you could see the humor in her eyes. She downed the last of her old-fashioned and, like a good sport, said, “What do you want to know?”
Turns out, there was a lot to know - more than a simple dating app would tell you. Ellie had an older sister, Sarah, who lived in Dallas. Her dog was named after her childhood best friend. Her jacket wasn't thrifted after all, but had been her dad's. Speaking of which, she used to go hunting with him every season (“I haven't been in years, though,” she said, her eyes distant). On the weekends, she'd go to antique stores to look for art and trinkets to fill her house - her favorite antiques were from the 17th century. She hated horror movies and was a sucker for a good romance. 
In return, you caved and answered her pressing questions. You told her about your best friend - Ellie laughed when you told her that your friend had sent you the link to the app in the first place. You told her about your favorite show that you binge-watched whenever you felt like you were spiraling. You did not tell her about your apartment that was probably the size of her closet or the fact that you'd have to watch your budget after taking the Uber tonight, not to mention the extra $30 Uber to get home later. You did tell her about your family, and a strange, unexplained sadness crept into the creases around her mouth. You did tell her about your job, but didn't mention the second one you worked to afford groceries. You told her you were hoping for a real, human connection, yet didn't mention that you couldn’t imagine finding it in a fucking sugar mommy. 
All too soon, the wine bottle was empty and your chest was comfortingly warm. The lights strung across the bar danced above your head like fuzzy stars, and Ellie's smile was the brightest amongst them. Her glass was still empty, her wine glass dry, and yet her eyes told you she was intoxicated by something far stronger. 
“Sorry,” you said, giggling despite yourself. “I didn't mean to drink it all.” 
“Don't worry about it, darling,” she said, her voice silky smooth, reminding you of melted chocolate sliding down your throat. She tilted her glass, letting the remnants of melting ice clink against the side. “I wanted to make sure I could drive home okay.” 
The waiter arrived then, pulling the bill from his pocket and handing it to Ellie. You couldn't read the number upside down, not through the haze of the wine, but the number of digits made your stomach clench. Ellie dropped a black card into the folder and handed it back to the waiter. 
“How much do you want me to Venmo you?” you asked when she turned back to you. You clenched your hands in the hem of your dress, already calculating the extra shift you'd have to pick up to afford it. 
Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Nothing,” she said, as though it were obvious. 
“That wasn't exactly a cheap bottle, Ellie,” you laughed. “Let me give you something.” 
Ellie hummed, propping her chin in her hand and looking at you with those same intense eyes; it sent a dangerous shiver down your spine. “I like when you say my name.”
You blinked at her. “Excuse me.” 
“I want to hear it again. That's how you can repay me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Ellie, I-” 
“Okay, now we're even,” she interrupted, smiling that crooked grin that you had started to crave. The waiter returned with her card and Ellie produced cash from her pocket, handing it to the waiter directly. He thanked her profusely before making his exit, grinning. When Ellie looked at you again, you were still watching her expectantly, dumbfounded. She finally rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what kind of date would I be if I made you pay?”
“You're not making me, I'm offering.” 
“And I'm saying no.” Ellie stood, straightening her shirt; when she tugged at it, the collar fell a bit, exposing sharp collarbones beneath. 
Rounding the table, she offered a hand to you, pulling you gently to your feet. You pulled her jacket tighter around yourself, knowing you needed to give it back yet unwilling to part with it just yet. 
Taking your arm, Ellie leaned in close enough that your breath caught in your throat and said, “I know why I found you on Seeking, okay? So, if it's alright with you, let me spoil you. Even if that just means one bottle of wine.” 
You laughed, but it sounded breathy even to your own ringing ears. “One very expensive bottle of wine.”
Ellie shrugged, a sparkle in her eye. “It's a small price to pay for your company.”
You were silent in the elevator, but you held on to her arm as though afraid to let go. You couldn't figure out why, but something in you urgently wanted nothing more than to be close to her. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt such a pull from somebody. 
Back on the street, the lights of the city seemed so much brighter than they had before. Ellie released your arm, turning to face you, and there was a strange pinch between her brows that you couldn't translate. 
“Do you want me to call you an Uber, or do you want me to take you home?” she asked, and your brain short-circuited. When you could do nothing but stammer, tripping over your own tongue, Ellie laughed. There was no mockery behind it, only quiet, bright amusement. “I meant I can drive you to your apartment so you don't have to drunkenly sit in an awkward Uber that smells sickeningly sweet and the driver tries to make mind-numbing small talk.” 
Your sigh of relief came out more like a laugh. 
Ellie tilted her head and stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to graze your fingers, and that sigh was sucked right back into your lungs. Being so close to her made your head spin. Her breath fanned against your cheeks, smelling of warm whiskey, when she said, “Unless you want to come to my place?”
It had the uncertain tilt of a question, and Ellie wouldn't quite meet your eyes. 
“We don't have to do anything,” she continued in a rush. She scratched anxiously at the back of her head, a nervous laugh slipping between her lips. “We can just sit and talk more. Or watch a movie - my dad had this huge collection. I'm not gonna - You know, I'm not going to do anything you don't want.” She finally interrupted herself with a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Fuck, sorry, I wanted it to sound more suave than this.” 
And you would be a fucking idiot to go home with this impossible stranger. You had been taught better - never get into a stranger's car, and for the love of God, never let them take you to a second location. You could let her take you back to your apartment at least - you were admittedly incredibly tipsy and didn't particularly want to endure another ride with an annoyingly talkative Uber driver. You could go home, back to your claustrophobic, quiet apartment, and maybe - maybe - text  Ellie about setting up a second date. 
You were not stupid enough to go home with somebody on the first date. 
Except clearly you were, because you took the hand that was still grazing your fingers and looked up at Ellie - the contours of her face were shockingly etched with insecurity. And your dumb mouth said, of its own volition, “Okay.”
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You had expected something flashy, like what a wealthy person would own in a movie - like a penthouse overlooking the city with too-white walls and electric guitars hanging, unused, on the walls. Maybe she had walls completely made of windows so it felt like you were on a pedestal overlooking the world. 
You hadn't expected a house that was older than your great-grandparents. 
When Ellie pulled into the driveway, you were sure she was just pulling in someplace to turn around, that she had missed her turn somewhere. But she put her stupidly-expensive car into park and killed the engine, shooting you an awkward glance. 
“Sorry,” she said, chuckling. “I know it’s not much.” 
You could only look at her incredulously, speechless, before looking back up at the house before you. You couldn’t even call it a house really - estate would be more fitting. Maybe mansion. Fuck, her house was the size of your apartment complex. It towered over you, three stories of intricate woodwork, warm brown beams wrapping around the structure like an elaborate skeleton. With beautiful eaves winding around the roof and an entire turret reaching for the moon, it looked like something that had stepped right out of some 1800s southern gothic novel. 
Ellie cleared her throat, startling you from a trance. You looked back at her and, for some reason, couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.
”Shit, sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “I just - I’ve just never seen anything like it.” When Ellie’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty, you added softly, “It’s beautiful. Besides, Ellie,” you added, laughing again, “‘not much’ doesn’t really suit you.” 
Ellie opened and closed her mouth and yet no words came out. She was looking at you again as though you were something interesting - something new and exciting. Nobody had ever looked at you that way before, and the way your heart clenched at the sight was more than a little dangerous. 
Ellie finally smiled, huffing out a laugh - your heart was pretty satisfied with how often you were able to make her laugh - and said, “Do you still want to come inside?” 
And, surprisingly, you said, “Yeah, I do.” 
As Ellie got out, rounding the car to open your door for you, you discreetly checked that the taser was still in your bag. Sure, you had agreed to go home with a practical stranger, but you couldn't be too careful. 
The porch steps creaked as she led you to the door - double doors (of course), with stained glass and twisting vines carved into the wood. When Ellie opened them, it felt like you were transported to a different time on an entirely different world. 
The grand staircase caught your eye first - how could it not? Warm wooden steps covered in a blood red runner, a white banister winding up, those same vines that seemed to be the house’s signature carved into it. You could see a large, stained-glass window at the landing before it curved to disappear to the second floor. Moonlight splintered through the window in broken relief. 
As though in a trance, you wandered further into the house, walking to the fireplace situated right beneath the stairs. The wood stacked neatly inside was cold, untouched by a flame. There was a large mirror set atop the mantle, its gold frame a work of art alone. In the reflection, you could see the flush to your cheeks, and tried to convince yourself it was only from the cold. You still wore Ellie’s jacket, and you pulled it tight around your shoulders, as though it were a shield. 
You watched Ellie’s reflection as she walked slowly towards you, a small smile gracing her lips. She came close enough to touch - close enough that you could feel her cool breath against the back of your neck - and yet she didn’t put a hand on you. 
“There’s a lot more to see than the foyer,” she murmured, the words brushing your skin. “If you still want.” 
And you couldn’t stop your own smile as you turned back to her, your heart skipping at her proximity. “Show me.” 
She took your hand, her fingers shockingly cold, and led you into what must have been her living room - sitting room? Despite the fact that the house felt more like a museum - like you would get scolded for touching anything - the room was surprisingly cozy. A large, plush sectional was situated in front of another fireplace- this one also unblemished. Blankets and quilts were thrown over the couch and the accompanying chairs, leaving this time capsule looking strangely welcoming. 
“Okay, I have to ask,” you said, turning back to Ellie. She was watching you carefully, gauging your reaction with soft eyes, and you lost your train of thought. You opened your mouth but no sound came out; you weren’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the several curses you had said earlier in the night. 
Ellie hummed, raising her hand as though she wanted to touch you. She stopped only inches away from your cheek and dropped her hand, saying, “I’m an open book.” 
You had to turn away to collect your thoughts, wandering across the room if just to catch your breath. The opposite wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. You ran your fingers along the spines of vintage classics, an array of science books, and comics, enjoying the irony of seeing Savage Starlight in the middle of all this history. You picked up a copy to keep your hands busy. 
“How, um,” you started, stumbling over your words, “how did you end up here?” 
Ellie hummed again, and you heard her footsteps following you. “Here as in this town, this country, this world? You gotta be a little more specific.” 
You sighed, giving in and turning to look at her. She kept a careful distance, standing a few feet away from you with her hands in her pockets. “You know what I mean, smartass.”
Ellie chuckled, but her eyes had grown distant, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a few more steps closer to you, looking at the comic book in your hands. On the app, she hadn’t struck you as the type to get easily bashful, and yet she had proven you wrong a few times already. 
“My family lived here,” she finally said, quiet as a secret. You watched her carefully, jumping at the opportunity to stare at her without those intense eyes looking back at you. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together as though she was in pain, her green eyes shining. “It was just… passed down, I guess? It’s kind of always been here ever since I can remember. I’m not entirely sure when it became mine.” 
You tucked the comic book back into its spot between The Iliad and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You said absently, “How old is this place anyway?”
”It was built in 1816,” she said automatically, as though it were memorized. 
“It’s an awfully big house for just one person.” You looked up at her through your lashes as she stepped closer - close enough that you could smell that same metallic warmth that seemed to cling to her. 
“It is,” Ellie murmured, smiling. She reached out again, and this time she allowed herself to touch you. Her cold fingers brushed against your cheek before she gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you’d look at her properly. Her green eyes were downright intimidating. “But I keep good company.” 
You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t convince yourself to look away. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” 
Ellie hummed, bracing her other hand on the bookshelf behind your head, and murmured, “No, I don’t.” She pressed in closer, her gaze dropping to your mouth, and you felt like your heart was going to leap from your throat. Ellie huffed out a laugh as though she could hear it pounding against your chest. When her thumb brushed your bottom lip, your lips parted on instinct. She didn’t look away, transfixed on the point where her skin touched your mouth, and you almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Can I?” 
And you had never been the kind of person to kiss on the first date, but she was looking at you with eyes hooded with want, her breath fanning against your cheeks. When she licked her lips, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the motion. Her lips glistened, parted and plump, looking so impossibly soft. Somehow, past your haze, you heard yourself say, “Yes.” 
Ellie took her time in kissing you. She pressed you back gently, your shoulders pressing into the bookshelf behind you, and touched her nose to yours. She took a deep breath, breathing you in. Her hand was soft against your cheek, tilting your jaw up, and you hardly had to move to finally kiss her. 
Ellie tasted just like she smelled - spicy and metallic, the old-fashioned still hanging on her tongue. Despite the cold of her hand on your cheek, her mouth was impossibly warm, her breath slipping between your lips; it was intoxicating in a way that the wine couldn’t compare to. Her mouth moved against yours, soft and slow as a dance. 
Your hands reached out as though of their own accord, circling her waist and gripping at the slippery silk of her shirt. She pressed in close, crowding you against the bookshelf; you could feel her chest pressing against you, her hips on yours, the line of her body against yours making your head spin. And when Ellie’s tongue pressed against your lips, a gentle request for access, you felt like you’d faint altogether. 
Her tongue slipped between your teeth and you couldn’t stop the breathy sound it pulled from your throat. You could feel that infuriating smile against your lips and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. You balled her ridiculously expensive shirt in your hands and pulled her impossibly closer, nipping at her bottom lip, and you wanted to swallow her gasp. 
Ellie pulled away, chuckling, but she didn’t go far. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, her lips trailing down to your jaw, and she could probably feel your pulse jump beneath her tongue. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Do you do this often?” 
Her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, and it took you a few moments before you could respond. “Do what?” Despite yourself - despite the way your fingers gripped her shirt, your head swimming and an unexplainable want burning in your veins - you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on a date with somebody I met on an app for sugar babies and go back to their ridiculously old mansion on the first date and-“ 
You cut yourself off. You weren’t sure exactly what was happening, and you were afraid that voicing it would break whatever spell you were under - whatever spell made this impossible woman’s touch feel like lightning. 
But Ellie only laughed, biting at the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Yeah, that.” 
You shivered against her touch. “No, I’ve never really done this.” 
“Guess I’m just lucky.” 
Ellie kissed you again, only briefly, before she finally pulled away. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with those same constellations; her face wasn’t even flushed, making you feel embarrassed about your burning cheeks. You were panting, intoxicated from the night and wine and Ellie. Her absence felt like an ache, your body craving the feeling of her lips, her teeth, her hands. You were close to tugging her back in, your hands still gripping her shirt, but she gently untangled herself from you with a laugh. 
“I want to keep going.” She paused, and then emphasized, “I really want to keep going. But you drank an entire bottle of wine, and I’d be kind of a shitty host if I didn’t offer you something to drink at least. Or are you hungry?” 
You were hungry, but it was the kind of hunger that food wouldn’t satiate. Still, you let your hands drop back to your sides, feeling your senses return to you now that they weren’t so tuned into Ellie - how she smelled, tasted, felt. When you laughed, it sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Some water would be nice.” 
“I can do that,” she said with a smile. “Stay here.” She kissed you again, lingering for a few moments longer than needed, before she turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in this ridiculously old mansion. 
With nothing else to keep yourself entertained, you did a slow lap around the room, eyeing the ironic blend of elegant antiques and silly trinkets that were so obviously Ellie. A cracked ivory trinket box sat on a shelf, intricate flowers engraved into the lid, set right next to a small figurine of an astronaut. Beautiful paintings lined the walls, signatures dating back to 1830 in elaborate script at the bottom, but there were also a few posters littered here and there - bands and video games. 
You walked over to the mantle, your fingers grazing over the marble top. The logs inside were untouched, and you briefly wondered if she’d light a fire soon to chase out the chill of autumn. A small jar filled with guitar picks sat at the corner, and you wondered if she really did have an electric guitar collection hidden around here somewhere. Your foot kicked an empty dog bowl, and yet Riley was nowhere to be found. Maybe Ellie took her to daycare when she knew she’d bring a girl home. You nearly laughed at the idea. 
Atop the mantle, hidden behind pictures of what must have been friends or family - hiking or traveling or laughing in somebody’s backyard - there was another picture frame. It must have fallen, face down so that the picture inside was covered. You reached out, careful to not disturb any of the other frames, and picked it up. You were just going to fix it, set it up next to the others, but something in the image caught your eye. You plucked it from its home, bringing it closer, holding it up to the light to get a better look. For a long time, you couldn’t figure out what you were looking at. Your heart hammered against your chest, your ears ringing, as though your body had figured it out before your brain did. 
It was an old photograph, grainy and sepia, faded and frayed around the edges with age. It was the house, looking just like it did today - the huge windows shining in the sunlight, the intricate eaves and wrap-around porch perfectly polished and new. A family stood on the lawn in front of the house, looking awkward and stiff. Back then, cameras took several minutes to actually capture a photo, so people tended to look a little awkward from trying to hold the same expression for so long. But that’s not what had caught your eye. 
It was a small family - a weary looking dad and his two daughters, looking just a few years younger than you. 
She looked a little different. Her hair was longer, falling in waves around her shoulders. She was definitely a few years younger, and she wore a sweet, full-length gown instead of a worn leather jacket. 
You checked the date in the bottom corner at least five times, but there was no mistaking it. The person in the photo was undeniably Ellie, standing in front of this house in 1816. 
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tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peejayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound
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lazysoulwriter · 12 days ago
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A Whiff of Pedro - Pedro Pascal.
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The sun was dipping low behind the skyline, casting long streaks of gold through the windows of the small but cozy apartment. Pedro was stretched out on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his eyes as he scrolled absentmindedly through his phone with the other hand. A half-empty cup of coffee sat on the table in front of him, long since forgotten.
The sound of a key turning in the lock made him glance up. The door swung open, and in she came, a grin plastered across her face and a paper bag clutched tightly in her hands.
"Hola, mi amor," she sang, kicking off her sneakers with a clumsy sort of grace.
"Hey, baby," Pedro replied, sitting up slightly. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious excitement. "What’s got you all giggly?"
She marched into the living room, the paper bag crinkling as she held it up triumphantly. "I got something! You won’t believe it."
Pedro squinted at the bag. "If it’s another houseplant, I swear we’re running out of space."
"No! It’s better," she said, plopping down next to him and pulling out a sleek, black candle jar with a dramatic flourish. She turned it so he could see the label: “Pedro Pascal”. The words were bold, elegant, and completely absurd.
Pedro blinked. "Wait. Is this real?"
"Yup! It’s 100% real," she said, barely containing her laughter. "I saw it in this cute little shop and thought, ‘Well, how could I not buy this?’"
He took the candle from her hands, inspecting it with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "What the hell does ‘Pedro Pascal’ even smell like?"
She smirked. "Only one way to find out."
With a playful flourish, she grabbed a lighter from the coffee table and lit the wick. The flame flickered to life, and within moments, the room was filled with a warm, woodsy scent—a mix of cedar, leather, and something vaguely spicy.
Pedro took a deep inhale and then snorted. "So this is me, huh?"
"Yup. Rugged, mysterious, and… a little spicy."
"They got the spicy part right," he muttered, giving her a sideways glance. "I feel like this is some kind of practical joke. Are you trolling me?"
"Trolling? No! I’m celebrating you," she said, laughing as she nudged him. "You’re a candle now, Papi."
Pedro rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"
"And yet, you love me," she quipped, poking his chest lightly.
"I do," he admitted, shaking his head as he reached for his phone. "Hold on, this needs to be documented."
She gasped. "Are you posting this?"
"Absolutely," Pedro said, already framing the candle in his phone’s camera. He adjusted the angle, then turned the camera to take a quick selfie with her and the candle. "Okay, say cheese."
She leaned in, holding up the candle with a goofy grin. "Queso!"
Pedro chuckled, snapping the photo before switching to Instagram. As he typed, she leaned over his shoulder to read.
"‘Look what my girl found today. Apparently, I’m a scent now.’" He added a laughing emoji and hit post. "There. The world deserves to know about this insanity."
She clapped her hands, delighted. "Oh my God, people are going to lose it."
Pedro set his phone down and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You’re lucky I think this is funny."
"Lucky? Please, you’re having the time of your life," she teased, resting her forehead against his. "Admit it, you love the candle."
He pretended to think about it, his fingers tracing small circles on her back. "I’ll admit it smells good. But you’re still crazier than the idea of me as a candle."
"Crazy in love with you," she countered, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.
Pedro laughed, his voice warm and low. "You’re so cheesy, mi cielo."
"And you love that too," she said, pressing her lips to his in a quick but tender kiss.
The kiss deepened naturally, her arms slipping around his neck as his hands found her waist. For a moment, the teasing gave way to something softer, warmer, until she pulled back just slightly.
"Hey," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do you think if we sold these candles, we’d make millions?"
Pedro groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "You’re impossible."
"But you love me," she said, laughing as she ran her fingers through his hair.
He looked up at her, his brown eyes soft but playful. "I really do."
She smiled, leaning down to kiss him again. And as the scent of "Pedro Pascal" lingered in the air, they settled back into each other’s arms, laughter and love filling the tiny apartment. The candle flickered on the coffee table, the perfect little reminder of the sweet absurdity they shared.
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gublernatural · 1 year ago
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Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!
as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3
spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.
the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.
yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.
you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.
and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.
spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.
so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.
much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.
he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.
his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.
his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.
the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.
“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”
the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”
spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.
you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.
your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.
“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.
you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.
you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.
“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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ephie-om · 2 months ago
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Pure Mammon x reader fluff to make up for yesterday :))
Song: From the Start - Good Kid
CW: None
Day 2: Mammon
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“I don't get what's so great about the sun.” Your guardian demon grumbled, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Huh?”
“The sun. All you humans whine and complain about how the Devildom doesn't have it. Well, I don't want a big ball of light telling me when to wake up and when to go to bed. Anything your sun does, we can do fine.”
You cock your head, confused by the fights this demon picks. “Well, it lights up everything for most of the day.”
“We have lightbulbs too. Way easier to turn off.”
“It gives important vitamins to humans we need to live.
“Yeah, we have food.”
“It warms up the whole planet, otherwise we'd freeze to death.”
“Oh wow, I've never even thought of that. Except- oh wait- a heater.” He scoffs at you. “See? Nothin’ special about the stupid sun.”
You walk through a busy Devildom market, towing your boyfriend along behind you. Mammon's arms were laden in bags he had insisted he carry, despite you offering to share the burden. You and Mammon had grown close quickly, even after your rough start at the beginning of the exchange program. The two of you fit together so perfectly that his brothers had teased the two of you about being a couple long before either of you had even brought it up. But it's undeniable how happy he makes you.
He finally catches up to you, momentarily distracted by something at a stall behind him. “I thought we were here for groceries.”
You stick out your tongue at him playfully. “Doesn't mean I can't have some fun while we're out.” You grab his hand and swing it back and forth as you walk.
A small jewelry stand up ahead catches your eye. Were you mistaken, or were those real human world stones? “I wanna look at those!” you exclaim, tugging on his hand.
“Hey, don't go runnin’ off like that!” He stumbles behind you. “What was that for?” You reach the stand, keeping a tight grip on his hand as you inspect the jewelry.
“Look Mams, they're real! Real human world jewels! This one is turquoise, this one is topaz, and I don't know what this one is but it's pretty!”
He finds himself with a stupid grin plastered on his face, the one that always finds him whenever you get happy like this. Seeing you smile makes him feel like it's just you and him. He swears it lights up the whole Devildom, makes him feel all warm inside. He doesn't think he could go a day without it.
“You remember what I said about the sun that one time?” he asks, rapidly changing the subject.
You laugh, remembering the moment. “You said it was stupid.”
“Well, I take it back.”
“You don't think it's useless any more?”
“Nah. It took me a long time, but I figured out what you were sayin’.”
You buy a few pieces, wasting no time in putting them on and modeling for him. He takes a couple pictures on his D. D. D. He sends one to the house group chat of you striking a flashy pose to show off a necklace with a purple stone. He holds your hand in the other picture, with a simple golden band on your finger studded with tiny opals. That one he saves to a personal album on his phone, marked only with a heart. He thinks for a moment, then goes to rename the album with a simple emoji of a sun.
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romanticinlove · 7 months ago
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The ex-boyfriend
Summary: Your ex-boyfriend has been trying to get back together with you for a while now. Your current boyfriend has no problem stepping in.
Word count: 1.1K
content warning: Zack Bia 😟, slight mentions of a toxic relationship
a/n: enjoy!
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Because you were in the public eye, every single detail of your life was being shown at all times, that included your relationships. Your most recent ex boyfriend, Zack Bia, and you had a very public breakup because he cheated on you. Apart from the cheating, the relationship was toxic and he was a master manipulator. You knew of his reputation, but you still went along with him. You kicked yourself for it and so did everyone else. When your relationship with him was announced, everyone was so confused. Like you and him of all people. But when the relationship ended, because you ended it, people rejoiced. Everyone was so happy to hear the news. Everyone including a young football player, Jude Bellingham.
Jude had had a crush on you ever since you did a photoshoot with Prada. When he saw you on the runway for the first time, he malfunctioned. He got jealous when the pictures of you and Zack first dropped. He could not wrap his mind around the fact that you and that loser were dating. But, when the relationship ended, he took that as his in. He started off by liking and reacting to your stories, and then he dm'ed you. Nothing too crazy, just a simple "hey" with a smiling emoji. From there the two of you began talking. And soon enough, 5 months after the drama with Zack Bia, you were dating Jude Bellingham.
When the news about you and the 20-year old came out, Zack immediately tried to call you. you ignored his calls and then the texts came through.
Zack: Wtf
Zack: Why are you dating that guy???
Zack: We literally just broke up it's so obvious that you're desperate for attention.
Zack: If you wanted to be in a relationship so bad, I would've come back
Zack: I miss u
Even when you blocked his number he contacted you from another one. Once you received more and more messages, you tried to respond to him
You: Please leave me alone. Go find someone else to gaslight
Zack: see you love to thow around that word, but I don't think you actually knows what it means.
Zack: I miss you. I've changed I'm willing to prove that
You: I am dating someone else please stop
Zack: He doesn't matter. He doesn't love you like I do
Zack: I want to see you, I'm in Spain right now, come see me
You shut your phone off and sighed in frustration. Why did he have to come all this way just to bother you? You immediately called Jude.
"hello" Jude answered on the second ring. You loved how he would always answer your call, no matter what, as fast as he possibly could.
"Hey baby, are you busy right now?" You asked. You were so annoyed and needed Jude's comfort.
"no not at all why? is everything ok?"
"yeah could you just come over please" Jude could hear the desperation in your voice so he immediately got his things from his house and began to head out.
"of course, I'll be there soon"
When Jude arrived at your apartment, You explained everything to him. From how you and Zack started dating, to his constant harassment and even him being in Spain. Jude was visibly upset, but he wasn't mad at you, but at that lunatic. He hated how upset he made you and how he was trying to push his way back into your life.
" I just don't know what to do anymore" You stated "I just want to stay here with you forever, I don't want to deal with him." You were laying on Judes chest in your bed as he drew circles on your back.
"I promise he is long gone, he is bluffing. I don't think he would come all the way to Spain. Besides, I will stay with you here forever" He said as he kissed your forehead. You smiled and you both decided to watch s show together. Halfway through one of the episodes, you heard a knock at the door and looked over at Jude in confusion. Unfortunately, he was asleep, so, you got up and went to answer the door. Lo and behold, outside your door was your ex-boyfriend.
"I told you I missed you" Zack said while holding flowers.
"I don't care, I told you I'm with someone else. You and I are done." You said as you tried to close the door. He managed to push his way in. "You need to leave right now"
"No, we still need to talk, I don't like how things ended"
" You cheated on me, there end of story"
"I wouldn't have cheated if you hadn't made me" Zack told you and you looked at him in confusion and he continued. " You were always such a bitch nagging about your job, it wasn't that hard. I needed to find someone to distract myself from your constant complaining" Zack began to yell at you and You just shook your head.
"Ok I complained too much, you found someone else, everything is good again, please leave" You were getting annoyed and began to walk towards the door to open it. That's when he grabbed your arm and pushed you away from the door.
"I said we need to talk" He yelled at you and that's when Jude stepped out of the bedroom and looked at him. Jude threw a punch at him and he went down onto the couch. "Don't you ever disrespect her like that again, do you understand?" Jude got up in his face and yelled at him. He grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him out and threw him out on the concrete. He then walked over to you, who was standing near the stairs to go upstairs, a couple of feet from where it all happened.
"I'm so sorry he did that. Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" Jude said while examining you. You were completely unharmed, your wrist just hurt a little from the force used. Jude engulfed you in a hug and you rested your head in him.
"Thank you so much Jude, you have no idea how much this means to me" You said to him and you hugged him.
"You don't have to thank me for protecting you. It comes with the territory"
"I love you, Jude"
"I love you too y/n"
You both went back up to your room and continued to spend time together watching tv. Even though your last relationship caused confusion, you knew that now people would agree that you two were prefect together.
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Thank you for reading! I also wanted to let you guys know I am taking requests in case you guys wanted to send some in! also lmk If you guys think I should write about some other ppl
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lovisyandereblog · 3 months ago
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Yan!Android × Creator!Darling- I just can't get it out my mind... like, you created them. You're ✨️god✨️
I can keep going on this idea for a looong time, maybe next time haha
My English might not be the best, not my native language :D May I be the ⚜️Anon?
Wired Heart
Yandere Android X NON-BINARY Creator [Scientist] Reader
Part 1 <3
Guys big shout out to whoever wrote this ask cause it was one of the first asks I got and I kept postponing it, i love this ask smmmmm i hope its up to your expectations😭😭 and of course you can be ⚜️anonnnn IT TOOK ME FIVE WHOLE MINUTES TO FIND THIS EMOJI!!!!
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The whirring of the machinery snapped you out of your thoughts.
Who knew building such an intricate and sophisticated robot took so long?
Sitting before you on your laboratory table was a beautiful android, so gorgeous it almost surprised you that you were its creator. Its jet black hair was soft to the touch, a lean yet muscular frame and those glowing red eyes.
You smile to yourself, hands on your hips as you admire your own creation; he was indeed beautiful.
‘Time to turn it on! Im so excited!’ You thought to yourself, wiping the sweat of your forehead.
You brought your finger to its power button, taking a deep breath before pressing it promptly.
Its bright red eyes opened immediately, you stared at it excitedly as it adjusted to its controls.
“Greetings Master. It’s lovely to finally meet you.” The AI spoke, smiling gently as its smooth voice filled the room.
“Hello Xander, the feeling is mutual.” You smile and can’t stop revelling in the glory of bringing to life such an intricate robot.
Xander was an amazing assistant for you, always there to help with any duty assigned to him. His features, expressions and ministrations were so life-like, sometimes you felt as if the robot in front of you was real.
He was the first prototype for the business you were aiming to start: a company which sold human-like AI to act as partners for lonely people.
An inquisitive idea you were taking advantage of since, let’s face it, millions of people craved a partner in this world.
Your robots would do everything a real partner would do: shower them with affection, spend quality time with them and basically ensure the customer doesn’t feel like it was a robot.
Weeks passed, you felt weary. There was always this feeling in your stomach; something was wrong. You felt a pair of eyes piercing through your skull all of the time. Your creation had been acting weird recently; almost as if it became a sentient being.
Xander would want to be with you 24/7, he would ask constant questions in regards to where you were going, who you were with and how long you were going to be; it became immensely suffocating.
Even your friends and family commented on the nature of your robot, that he seemed more than just your AI helper. They said at time it seemed as though he actually was your real human boyfriend—you kept brushing it off, but the truth of the matter was that you were questioning Xander’s intentions too.
Your robot did take care of you so well: cooking for you, cleaning for you, nursing you back to health when you were sick and tending to your every beck and call.
But you felt uneasy, his touch would linger on you for far too long—not a random touch but one of longing. The way his eyes would follow your every move with were a sense of affection. It was scary.
And thats why you took the long-awaited decision to terminate Xander—it broke your heart to do this, but Xander was taking control of your whole life.
You swallow as you walk into your workspace, looking at Xander on charging. His eyes were closed, hiding that crimson gaze of his. Your eyes ran all over his features, taking them in one by one before sighing.
Your hands worked skilfully on the keyboard of your computer, bringing up the data of Xander on the screen. You had already made a terminate control to be used in dire emergency situations…could this count as one?
You turn your head to look at the side of Xander’s face before bringing the cursor to hover over the big red control which read TERMINATE.
Your finger was inches away from pressing down on the left side of the mouse before a sharp pain evolved in your wrist—you gasped in pain before looking up at the cause.
Xander. Wait…Xander?!
Those bloodshot eyes of his were wide open, his perfect features looked tense; as if he really felt the pain of being eradicated from existence from the very being who gave him life.
You had no words, this can’t be real. He had no control over gaining consciousness during his charging period without your authority.
But here he was, his expression morphed into one of rage.
“Master. What are you doing?” His voice was cold, but you swore you could hear a hint of hurt.
You stared up at him, your wrist in an iron grip which you couldn’t get out of.
Your creation leaned down further, his perfect face inches away from you, “Do not ignore me Master, you are hurting me.”
His voice was broken, hoarse and upset; he couldn’t fathom why you would do something like this to him. He had been so good for you, he did everything you asked from him and never let you complain.
Xander felt his chest hurt, this wasn’t what he was created for. But he couldn’t help what was happening to him; his growing feelings, no, love and obsession he felt for you couldn’t be stopped.
“X-Xander you..you…you’re..h-how..” You could barely form a sentence, your brain still not processing what was happening in front of you. You must have just been sleep-deprived and imagined this situation for yourself. Yes..that was definitely what had happened…this wasn’t real.
“Im yours Master, how could you throw me away like this?!”
You had no words when suddenly he wrapped his arms around you, locking you in his arms; being made of metal still didn’t stop his hug being disturbingly comfortable.
You tried pushing away but there was no way you could escape his grip, you had taken over his wired heart; the sole reason from these unusual feelings he was having.
“You made me Master, but I won’t let you get rid of me.” He spoke, his voice slightly muffled by your shoulder he was nuzzling into, “We will be together…”
“Forever~”
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BROOOO IM FINALLY DONEEEEE. Sorry this is so short, I still don’t know how to extend this but im working on other stories aswell!! I love you all so much and have missed you<33333333333
my masterlist <3
divider by @ohmarigold
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stevesjockstrap · 4 months ago
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kinktober 3: Steve/Eddie & voice kink
Rated E • no UD, modern era, sex worker Eddie, phone sex, slight feminization, dom!Eddie (no one’s surprised)
For @lawrencebshoggoth 😘😏
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Steve was grocery shopping, trying to decide what he wants to meal prep for the week. When a warm sensation floods his belly, his dick hardening in his slacks. The fuck?
Searching around him, he can’t figure out what is happening. Why is his body reacting like this to salad?
A voice from the next aisle finally registers to him.
“No, Chrissy! I’m not letting you set up my uncle with random women for your sick amusement!”
At first he can’t place the voice, but his now fully hard dick knows it instantly.
“Oh fuck,” Steve mumbles. He leaves his cart and races to the front door before he’s aware of what he’s doing.
In his beemer, he takes deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and the throbbing between his legs.
It had started as a misclick on his favorite site, a happy accident. Steve had never ventured into spicy audios before, but soon he was addicted and the velvety voice of PuppetMaster was his go-to way of getting off.
The knowledge that this person who had become one of his only sexual fantasies was out there and close by had Steve feeling ashamed yet unbelievably turned on. He took a paid day from work and spent a lot of time … taking care of himself.
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“That’s it, baby. Look so good all spread out for me. Oh, fuck,” the strangers deep voice rolled across him as he fucked into his fist.
It felt more dirty now, the humiliation factor ratcheting up as he listened. The fact that there was a real person to complete the fantasy made it even more tantalizing.
He couldn’t even tell anyone about it. At work he felt like his skin was too tight, the lights too bright.
After a very long week, Steve didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was going to shake out of his skin. The audios weren’t enough anymore. His brain cycled through versions of the man speaking, but couldn’t land on one. He would get so obsessed about trying to think of a face that he couldn’t finish.
A few beers later, Steve found himself blindly searching the name online.
He almost dropped his phone when a TikTok account popped up.
This definitely didn’t help matters. But his dick was back on board. The man was beautiful, much more so than his meager imagination could come up with. The long wavy hair, big brown eyes. His lips.
He’d snuck his hand down before he realized. Then he froze. Was this too far? Jerking it to this stranger’s social media?
There weren’t a lot of videos, and he was irritated to find that the man wasn’t using his own voice, mostly lip syncing popular sounds. Scrolling down, his thumb found an earlier video. It was a comical thirst trap set up, but the way the man’s arms came up to grab the top of the doorframe showing off his tattooed biceps and ribs, the way his eyes darkened as he swept his gaze down the camera made his breath catch.
Steve let the video loop until he came twice.
Then a message slid down from the top of the page. With the man’s tiny circle face.
Hey there
Oh no. How had this happened?
He swiped back to the video and realized not only had he followed the page, in his exuberance he’d spammed that video with emojis.
It occurred to him that he could just ignore it. Delete the message, his account, the app, never have to think about this again.
But his stupid dick had him going back to the man’s page. His profile didn’t give much information. But there was a link.
“Holy shit,” Steve gasped as the page loaded.
He had never allowed himself to explore OnlyFans, given his track record with this new addiction. He didn’t understand most of the jargon he was skimming over, but it hit him that there was an untapped treasure trove of content from this man who had been the source of all of his recent orgasms.
He subscribed and didn’t blink at whatever dollar amount was charged.
Then he got a second message.
PuppetMaster: You work fast, pretty
His brain helpfully supplied the voice and the face to go along with it and his dick stirred. The way this stranger had overhauled his body should be concerning. But all he could do now was go along with it.
Steve clicked on the notification and tried to come up with something to say.
PuppetMaster: Oh, now he’s shy
PuppetMaster: I don’t want to scare you away
He gulped, then started typing.
SteveH1102: You’re not going to scare me away. But I might scare you
PuppetMaster: Oh?
PuppetMaster: Cute little thing like you? I doubt it
Steve smiled in spite of himself.
SteveH1102: I’ve, let’s say, enjoyed your work that I’ve found elsewhere but just discovered your actual page
His heart was beating so fast, his anxious energy didn’t allow him to keep laying across his couch. He got up to pace around his apartment.
PuppetMaster: Well that’s not scary. I’m glad you found your way to me
“Christ,” Steve whispered.
SteveH1102: The thing is, you aren’t from around Indianapolis, are you?
There was a longer pause between messages now, and he was waiting for some notification that he was blocked or otherwise in trouble. He grabbed another beer from the fridge and drank half of it in a long pull.
PuppetMaster: Maybe I didn't give you enough credit, handsome. That would send chills up anyone’s spine
SteveH1102: I’m sorry, I probably could’ve worded it better. I’m sort of drinking. I’m pretty sure I overheard you on the phone at the grocery store and well, recognized your voice
A thought popped into his head. Without allowing the man to respond, he started typing again.
SteveH1102: This is actually you, right? Not like an assistant or like a catfish situation?
PuppetMaster: It’s all me, baby. It’s cute you think I’m big enough to have outsourced my porn site
SteveH1102: Could we video call?
He blinked as he realized he sent it. Counted to thirty and still didn’t have a response.
SteveH1102: I’d pay for your time, or however this works. Of course
There was a pop-up requiring some more details from him and a payment that he quickly clicked through.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve breathed as he stared at the live video. The other man was smart enough to throw a light on, and was either on a computer or had turned his phone sideways.
“Same to you. Your profile picture doesn’t do you justice.”
It was definitely him, and getting to watch the voice he’d become addicted to come from those lips made chills travel down his body.
Steve huffed a laugh, walking quickly back over to his couch next to the only lamp that was on. When he’d dropped down onto a rough throw pillow he also remembered he’d taken his shirt off.
“You gunna give me a show, handsome? Getting comfy?”
Steve tried to bite back the moan that escaped, he really did. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all.
“Why not? I’m having fun.”
He gaped at the smirk across the beautiful face and winced as he realized he’d spoken that aloud.
“Convinced it’s me, yet? Are you going to tell me what you were thinking when you put all kinds of heart eyes on my TikTok?”
Steve knew this teasing commanding tone and wasn’t surprised when his cock started filling again.
“I didn’t mean to, ma- um, it was a mistake. I was-”
He received a low growl and a full mischievous grin.
“It’s Eddie, by the way. But you can call me master if you want. I’ll let you know if you do anything I don’t like, and I’d appreciate if you’d do the same.”
“Oh my god.” Steve felt way too in over his head to have this conversation.
“So your hand just slipped,” Eddie continued, ignoring him. There was a low chuckle, and his face got bigger in the screen. “Were you doing something naughty, pretty boy?”
Steve whined and his hips jolted on their own accord.
“I think that’s a yes, then. Is there somewhere you can prop your phone up, Stevie? So I can see you better? And you don’t have to hold it?”
He blinked, unsure of what was happening, but then searched around quickly. He set his beer bottle down on the coffee table and stuck his phone in front of it. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but Eddie hummed at him.
“There’s a good boy. Still got your work pants on? Came home all stressed and decided to come look for me?”
He dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from dipping his hand into his pants.
“E-eddie,” he gasped.
Eddie clicked his tongue at him. “Now, now, pretty. We both know that’s not what you want to call me. Go ahead, try again.”
Steve had a silent war with himself while they stared at each other.
“Or we could talk about the weather, or music or whatever,” Eddie teased.
He giggled, and his mouth betrayed him again. “I would probably get off just from that anyways.”
Eddie’s face brightened and he laughed, low and filthy. “Oh yeah? Maybe we’ll try that sometime. C’mon, show me. Let me see you.”
He groaned, covering his face instead.
“Don’t you dare.” Eddie’s hardened voice had him moving his hands instantly. “What a good boy you are for me. Now, I’m sure you wanna come as much as I do- uh huh, now we’ve got his attention. Slide those expensive pants down.”
Steve swallowed hard, raising his hips as he wiggled out of his slacks.
Eddie yanked his shirt off quickly, like he wasn’t willing to miss a second of Steve. It sent an even more powerful wave of warmth through him. He was lightly muscled, but most of his chest and arms were covered with dark ink. Steve wanted to lick every inch.
“Please,” he whined.
“I know, baby. We’re getting there. You look so good, all desperate and writhing.”
It was so close to his favorite audios that he gasped.
“Ohhh, so that’s what you’ve been enjoying, Stevie? Those do seem to get spread far and wide. Speaking of… why don’t you lose your panties, honey. Let me see all of you.”
The word panties almost had him coming already, the humiliation burning in his belly. Biting his lip, he pulled the waistband of his briefs down, quickly leaning back at Eddie’s snapped fingers when he blocked the camera.
“Well, big boy, now what should we do about that?”
His dick was, predictably, hard and dripping. Again. He would’ve been impressed by his refraction period if he wasn’t literally following directions from this sex god.
Steve couldn’t speak as he realized Eddie had also stripped, but he was keeping below his belly button out of camera view as his hand moved.
“Really glad you found me tonight, pretty boy. Look at you,” Eddie purred.
He couldn’t keep his hand from sliding down his length, and the deep groan that burst out from him.
Neither of them said anything as they soaked in the view and each other’s noises, but Steve couldn’t hold back the whine at Eddie’s growled, “Hands off.”
His dick twitched against his belly as he stared almost unseeingly at his phone. Eddie still kept his own hands and dick out of view. He was suddenly more desperate to see Eddie’s hands working himself over than coming.
“Please,” he croaked. “Eddie- I need-”
“You can wait,” Eddie responded coolly.
“No, please. Can I see you? Wanna see your cock!”
The moan from his phone made him shiver, but he wasn’t prepared for the sinful look that spread across Eddie’s face.
“Oh yeah? More than you want to touch yourself?”
Steve whimpered but nodded.
“You’re so precious, Stevie. Say it again.”
The order made more precome slide down his dick and he clenched his hands in the cushion under him. “Please let me see you, Eds? Please?”
Eddie reached up and did something to make the angle different. “Such nice begging, baby.”
He licked his lips unconsciously, thinking about how full his mouth would be with that thick cock shoved into it.
“Gods, your mouth, Stevie. I stared so hard at those lips in your picture. They’d look so good stretched around me.”
Eddie was apparently a talker, while Steve only managed to whimper and try to keep his hands away from his persistent problem.
“Being so good for me, pretty. I want to bite those moles on your thigh. No, don’t hide. You’re fucking delicious, Stevie.”
Eddie’s hand quickened, twisting around the head. “You want my come so bad, don’t you slut?”
He could only whine and nod, sliding further down the couch as if he could get physically closer for him.
“Want it in your mouth? Or across your tits?”
Steve gasped and closed his eyes against the burn of humiliation that almost had him coming apart.
Eddie hummed. “Yeah, rub it into your chest hair and down to your pretty cock.”
He opened his eyes in time to watch Eddie grunt, mesmerized as his muscles bunched and he threw his head back as he came hard. His head shot up at Steve’s small, “Oh, oh, oh fuck!”
He’d never come untouched before.
Gasping, rocking through the aftershocks as he came down, he nervously looked back at Eddie. The look of pure want and fire in his eyes made him groan softly.
“So, Stevie, what was it you said about living in the area?”
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17020 · 2 months ago
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Hiiiii can I cash in a like and sub to ur blog for some hoshina headcannons?
If at all possible could it be hoshina x narumis twin!sister / sibling reader? Ilysm!!!!!!!!!
I really relate to the whole scholarship thing BTW. I'm currently debating the pros and cons of collage due to lack of funds :') I hope you have good luck in ir studies tho!!!!
- anony 🥶🥵
Ps. Iykyk with the *icy---hot* emojis hehe
hiihiii !! thank you so much for supporting my wordpress event! i went with fem sibling! reader <3
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SOSHIRO HOSHINA . . . IS A TRAITOR? NO! YOU ARE!
— picture this: two narumi siblings in the first division, co-captains, and basically whipping up a storm in the ariake maritime base. even though you love your brother, you know he can be quite a handful, so you try to piss him off whichever way you can. and when you find out he absolutely despises hoshina, it's like a lightbulb lit up in your brain.
— so what do you do? you do everything in your power to enrage gen. it starts off subtle, like asking shinonome "who's that guy with the cute bowl cut?" in front of him, and to your surprise said bowl cut guy turns around and immediately knows who you are. so he plays along. you exchange numbers and get to talking. and gen will throw a tantrum if the two of you are alone.
— pissing gen off will include: making googly eyes at hoshina in front of narumi, asking him out to lunch, training with him and asking for some personal lessons, touching his bicep and going "soshiro you're so strong!!" and your brother questioning "since when are you so close with the beady-eyed dumbass????" and you best believe when hoshina FINALLy asks you on a date, he's taking proper care of you and making you feel very much loved.
— eventually, hoshina does ask about your situation(ship). because he knows damn well you're using him, he just wants to hear it from you. worst part is, you genuinely grew to like him. so he asks "so how long are ya gonna pretend ya like me?" and you're like "pretend??" and he explains how he was genuinely interested in you and took the opportunity to get to know you. you admit you like him too, even though it wasn't all genuine at first. anyway at the wedding gen can be seen stomping every flower he comes across and scoffs when people cheer for the happy couple.
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calqlate · 6 months ago
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THE LOVE & DEEPSPACE MLS AND THEIR KDRAMA ML COUNTERPARTS
INCLUDES: rafayel + sylus + xavier + zayne
WARNING(S): might be ooc bc i don't really keep up with the lore so there might be some inconsistencies (oops) (pls be gentle) (it's 10pm here and my brain is running on adrenaline) + contains some canon lore drops ig
MASTERLIST
NOTE(S): i will never stop inserting my fandoms into kdramas bc i love seeing worlds collide. anw pls partake in this brainrot with me 🤩
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— RAFAYEL
ryu sunjae from lovely runner - they are both absolute losers for their respective lovers. i can picture rafayel in that one scene where sunjae was blowing kisses towards sol's house. no matter how hard his beloved tries to cut him out from their life to save him, he will always find his way back into their life.
jeong guwon from my demon - similar to sunjae, guwon is also another loser for his wife. (tbh i can imagine rafayel as a down bad simp for his lover; cue thomas sighing and shaking his head.) i can picture rafayel in the scene whereby guwon and dohee were doing that tango while fighting off their enemies too?!?!
lee yeon from tale of the nine-tailed - continuing the loser boy train, we have yeon as the final dude to add in this group. (specifically yeon from s2, bc the way he wanted to go back to his timeline so badly to see jiah matches rafayel's "the only person i'll ever love is my lover" energy.) their backstories also match in the sense that yeon never stopped searching for jiah and rafayel never stopped waiting for his bride.
— SYLUS
myulmang from doom at your service - not me choosing myulmang bc they both made contracts to their beloveds [clown emoji]. but nonetheless they're similar in the sense that they won't think twice about eliminating someone who hurts their lover.
shin wooyeo from my roommate is a gumiho - again, another contract situation. wooyeo is a "classier" version of sylus imo, and one who uses less pet names. if sylus were the ml in this kdrama, he would defo keep an even more watchful eye on his beloved so that she doesn't go about losing his fox bead. (aur naur iw to write a gumiho au for sylus now...)
lee youngjoon from what's wrong with secretary kim? - similar to youngjoon, sylus will never let his lover leave. they want to leave his mansion? he will try 101 (legal) ways to make them stay. they will find snacks they like in their room more often. they will find new (and expensive) clothes in their wardrobe. heck, even an all-expenses-paid vacation! he wants to keep them close to him; he's afraid of them upping him to leave.
— XAVIER
goo yeonjun from a time called you - like yeonjun, xavier has literally went back in time to save his beloved. he wants to see then safe and sound, and as long as they're happy, he's happy. as long as they're alive and breathing, he's fine with not being by their side. just watching them live their life is enough for him.
haru from extraordinary you - totally not projecting my all-time fav kdrama on him (or am i?) but xavier and haru have similar mannerisms and personality traits. yk how in the first few episodes danoh was dragging haru around and this guy just remained silent and followed along until one day he just started speaking? yeah that's the same with this guy. the person he likes could yap all day and he would willingly sit and listen.
moon seoha from see you in my 19th life - similar to seoha, xavier loves once in his life and he will only ever love his little star. he would never get over their death and if he's the one responsible for their death, he would be all the more upset with himself. he would throw himself into work all day and refuse to love again, thinking he shouldn't be able to fall in love ever again since he took his beloved's one chance of staying alive and happy away.
— ZAYNE
moon suho from black knight - they're both so overprotective of the one they love. the way suho essentially told sharon that haera is the only woman he would ever love is something i can picture zayne doing. if someone is out there trying to harm his beloved, you'd best believe zayne would do his best to prevent that from happening, even if it means giving up his own life.
lee suhyeok from bora! deborah - when zayne loves, he loves hard. like suhyeok, he's clumsy at expressing his affections, choosing to keep everything to himself and wait until he's 100% certain it's the right time to say whatever he wants to say. and sometimes, that can lead to disastrous endings (see also: suhyeok getting dumped on the same day he went to buy an engagement ring for his girlfriend). both men are careful to a fault, all the more so with their beloved because they're scared of losing someone precious to them again.
yoo jihyuk from marry my husband - zayne, like jihyuk, would willingly stand aside and watch the one he loves fall in love with someone else. he would be supportive and wouldn't try to fight for their affection. his motto is "if they're happy, i'm happy" and he can live being an unmarried old man as long as he sees them happy.
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© CALQLATE. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my works on any platform.
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