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scorpiossslut · 2 months ago

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OFF-LIMITS. -Rafe Cameron.

Pairing: best friend!rafe x fem!reader

summary: rafe has always been your sweet, loving best friend. until he showed you he’s way more than that.

author’s note: had a cute idea for a fic. hope you’ll enjoy. as always, this is filthy. -xoxo, cherry💋

warnings: possessive!rafe, borderline crazy, obsessive!rafe, mentions of violence, rafe being a perv in secret, mentions of JJ Maybank flirting with reader, choking, face slapping, rough, unprotected p!v, loss of virginity, praising, degradation, breeding kink (baby trapping)

Being Rafe's precious best friend meant that you were always going to get spoiled. Many women wished for the things he was constantly offering you; his undivided attention, his affection, random, huge amounts of money sent to your bank account everytime you'd tell him you had a bad day, or if you wanted to get your nails done, or go shopping, sometimes insisting he'd come along, protection, maybe a little too much of it at times, everything you could ever want.

You were the most important thing in his life, since he never really had much of a relationship with his family, all of them treating him like he was a disease, something to be avoided at all costs, only bringing pain and suffering to those around him, like they'd often tell him. But you never saw him that way, and you hated his family for pushing him away and hurting his feelings like that. You were always there for him, his biggest supporter, the only one who could calm him down when he'd come knocking on your window late at night after having a fight with his father, the one taking care of him and putting a smile on his face. And he loved you for that.

But being Rafe's precious best friend also meant that you were off-limits to everyone else. You knew he had a tendency of being rather... intense, when it comes to you. Shit, everyone knew it, too, always choosing to stay at an arm's length from you in fear of what Rafe might think. Ever since you two were kids, he was always protective of you, and he absolutely hated the idea of sharing you.

As you got older though, it got worse. You couldn't even talk to a boy without him pulling you away immediately, and if you did, he'd always make sure to claim you in some way, wrapping his strong hands around you, or placing his big hand on your ass "innocently", always throwing daggers with his eyes and making sure that whatever asshole was trying to talk to you could see that you were unavailable. That he wasn't playing about you. His pretty princess. He didn't like it when you'd hang out with Topper and Kelce either, but since they were his friends, and they definitely knew not to fuck with him, he let it slide. But only because most of the time, he was with you, never leaving your side and silently taking notes of every time one of them would get a bit too close or be too kind to you for his liking.

You never had a problem with it. Rafe always knew best. That's what he'd always tell you, and you never had a reason not to believe him. He always took care of you. Many people talked and raised eyebrows constantly around you, not believing even for a second that you two were just best friends. There was no way that was all.

To you, it was just white noise. You were so used to Rafe and his behaviour that you didn't bat an eye ever at the closeness between you. He was just Rafey, your beloved best friend.

But little did you know the lengths that he'd go through to make sure you stayed by his side. That you'd remain his. His little bunny, oblivious to the real reason he's always asking to see your phone, hiding his true intentions with the excuse of just “checking for something", or "playing music" or wanting to "take photos" of you, when the real reason was that he was going borderline crazy just thinking about you secretly talking to boys on there.

Oblivious to the real reason his knuckles were violently bruised once in a while, promising you that it was nothing, when in reality, he almost killed a few boys for talking about you or looking at you in a filthy way, or trying to spark a conversation with you.

Clueless about the way he was always watching you, even when you thought he wasn't around. Following you in secrecy, almost everytime you'd leave the house, just to make sure that you were safe and you weren't planning on seeing someone else behind his back.

Completely unaware of the way he'd steal a pair of your panties once a month, sometimes washed, but most of the time used, snatched right out of your laundry basket, just to fulfill his sick, filthy fantasies in the privacy of his room at night, when no one would be awake to hear his moans and your name slipping from his lips as he fisted his impossibly hard cock so fast that he was seeing stars.

He thought it was cute. How you never suspected anything, how blindly you trusted him. And he was fine with you not knowing just how obsessed he was, for a while.

However, his patience was starting to fade. With every pearly smile, every innocent look you threw his way, those short skirts and sundresses you liked to wear that he swore you were wearing on purpose, just to make him go mad. Everytime you'd sit on his lap, or press your cute little ass against him when you'd dance at a party.

Everything was slowly but surely driving him insane, and it was only a matter of time until he was going to finally take what he wanted, what was rightfully his, and only his.

In his mind, the moment you'd find out about his true feelings towards you was going to be romantic, he'd make sure to be careful not to scare you off, he'd make you realize just how much you need him and how much he loved you.

So why did you just have to ruin that, by letting a damn pogue, JJ Maybank of all people, flirt with you? He thought he was going to lose his mind when he'd caught you two on the beach, talking without a care in the world, that stupid pogue scanning your body shamelessly and complimenting your little outfit that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He thought he was smart and fearless, trying to get into your pants like that.

He thought.

Oh, how he hated that you had to make it hard for him and yourself by doing that. He had trusted you, showed you his love, his devotion, for so many years, and there you were, pushing him to do something so reckless that might make you hate him.

But no... he wouldn't have that. He was going to make sure you never looked at another man again, that he would be the only one for you.

Forever.

"My dumb little princess, always so fucking oblivious." He grunted, pounding into your little pussy violently while he gripped your cheeks painfully, making your juicy lips pout. "You don't know what you did to me back there, baby. You're lucky that little shit is still alive after what he tried to pull."

His tone was soft, almost mocking, but you were having trouble processing his words, too messy and too cock drunk to hear anything as you took what he gave you helplessly, your abused cunt swallowing him greedily with each thrust of his hips.

"I told you not to run off by yourself, didn't I? Told you you should only stick by my side. You. Only. Stay. With. Me." He barked, empathizing his words with harsh thrusts, knocking the air out of your lungs and having your back arch off the bed.

"M' sorry, Rafey! I... I didn't mean to, I promise!" You cried out, digging your manicured fingers into his shoulders as you used them for support.

He just chuckled, the sound dark and lacking any amusement. You didn't mean to. Of course you didn't.

"Yeah? Then what the fuck were you smiling at Maybank for, huh?! Letting him look at you, talk to you, when you know that shit pisses me off? You tryna be a whore or something?!" He snapped, grabbing onto the back of your thighs and folding them to your chest, the new angle allowing his cock to stretch you even more and hit your cervix deliciously.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your lips parted with a loud, pornographic moan.

This wasn't the Rafe you were used to. Your soft, caring, loving best friend, and even if you knew of his outbursts, his undeniable issues, he always made sure to keep that side of him away from you, only treating you like a delicate flower, worshiping you with all his heart. Now, he was a completely different person, and maybe you should've hated him for taking everything from you like that, your sweet, precious virginity, but to your surprise, you loved it. And the way your pussy was fluttering around him uncontrollably was a clear sign of that.

"Well shit, would you look at that." Rafe smirked, leaning closer and folding your legs further, the pain adding to the pleasure you were starting to feel at the pits of your stomach. He wrapped his fingers around your slim throat, applying pressure to the sides of your neck and humming in satisfaction at the way your teary eyes widened in shock. "My pretty princess likes being called a whore, huh?"

"R-Rafe! Please, please!" You begged, but you didn't know what for.

"You were just begging for some cock, weren't you? This slutty hole needed a good pounding that bad. What a shame, baby..." He tsked, shaking his head and leaning to peck your trembling lips briefly, before switching up and slapping your cheek, the sharp sound echoing in the room along with the filthy sounds of your skin slapping and your wet pussy squelching around him.

"My dick is the only one this cunt will ever see, understood?!"

You let out a short scream and clenched around him viciously, his words making your head spin.

You were sure you were scratching his back to the point it was almost bleeding, but you couldn't help it, feeling like you were going to pass out with his hand coming back to squeeze your throat and with the way his pace picked up, the bed creaking underneath you like it was going to break with the force of his thrusts.

"Yes! Yes, Rafey!" You managed to say between moans and pathetic whimpers, reaching out and grasping his wrist, your small fingers wrapping around it.

You looked so beautiful to him right now. Unreal. With tears rolling down your soft cheeks, those pretty doe eyes looking up at him submissively, not hiding the way your pupils were blown in pure lust, only for him. Red, swollen lips from his kisses, your carefully applied makeup that was now ruined on your face, an obsessive amount of marks that were going to become flashy bruises, all over your neck and your chest, a clear reminder for you and everyone else that he owned you. The sweet sounds coming from your lips were like music to his ears, the countless nights where he'd imagine how you'd sound like, how you'd feel wrapped around his cock now useless, because nothing could compare to the real thing.

"Sweet angel taking cock so well. 'S like you were made for me, baby... Don't you think so? Look at how greedy this pussy is. Taking me like a pro." He praised, pulling back a little and tilting his head to the side and watching the way he slipped and pushed into you so easily, your slick covering his entire length, a hint of pink around his base, the evidence of your innocence being ripped away from you, now belonging to him.

Letting go of your neck, you finally gasped for air, blinking stupidly at him with your long lashes. But then, he suddenly reached out and grasped your hair, fisting it and yanking your head forward with force, having you watch the way he was stretching you repeatedly.

"Look how good you're taking me. This is all mine. Mine. No one will ever get to see you like this, baby... Gonna make sure of it. You'll never think about another boy ever again. You belong to me, you always have." His lips stretched into a smirk, the look in his eyes possessed as he watched you squirm and whimper, almost unable to keep your eyes open with the tears blocking your sight.

"Say it. Say this pussy belongs to me. You belong to me." He growled, his once blue eyes that were now dark and possessed burning a hole through you, his fingers gripping your hair tighter and pushing your head back. His body pressed against yours as his other hand sneaked its way to your pussy, his thumb pressing against your puffy, sensitive clit and rubbing it back and forth rapidly.

Your thighs were shaking around his waist, and your small body was trashing underneath him as you whined and locked eyes with his.

"It's yours, Rafey! Pussy's yours. I'm yours!"

"Fucking right. You'll never get away from me, even if you tried. I own you. You're never leaving me." He spat, the possessive words only making you squeeze his cock tighter.

It was supposed to be a threat maybe, but in your fucked up state, it was the hottest thing.

You wouldn't be able to live without Rafe anyway, you were so dependent on him, on his attention, his love, that the thought of ever being without him felt wrong.

Then, a sudden thought came to him. How could he make sure that you were never going to escape him? That you were only going to need him, for the rest of your life, just like he needed you. Maybe he could knock you up. Surely you'll never be able to run away if he got you big and swollen with his baby. You'll be his forever. God, only the thought made his body shiver. You'd look even more beautiful this way. Glowing, all because of him. Carrying his heir in that pretty belly of yours. Giving him a family to take care of.

An animalistic growl escaped from deep inside him, and his hips snapped frantically against yours with a newfound purpose now as he smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your whimpers. The kiss was filled with possessiveness as he tried to claim you in every way possible, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you greedily while you tried to keep up with him, every once in a while clashing your teeth together as he rocked your fragile body into the mattress. When he pulled back, a string of your shared saliva connected your lips, and he grinned at you, but in a way that had the hairs on your body stand up.

"Think I know what to do with you, princess. Think I'm gonna get you all knocked up. Yeah. You'd look so pretty like that, you'll be so full of me you won't even be able to walk. And everyone will know, baby... Everyone will know who did that to you. That you're carrying my baby inside of you. Rafe Cameron's baby. My heir."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #bsf!rafe

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wriokitty · 1 month ago

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if you hold me without hurting me (you’ll be the first who ever did) — ft. sylus

synopsis: sylus is too causal with accepting pain. you don’t like seeing him hurt, so the best solution you can come up with is seeing him in pleasure

❤︎ word count: 2.4k words — it’s a miracle i kept it this short

❤︎ before you read: female hunter reader ; mature content. not suitable for minors ; not an established relationship but implied romantic connection. idk it’s complicated LOL ; injured sylus ; described blood and injuries ; evol inhibitors to make his injuries a bit more serious ; not proof read : hand jobs ; banter ; that’s pretty much it just wanted to write him cumming

❤︎ comments: i am posting this 3 mins before i need to leave for work this man has me hustling before my hustle rip

The safe house is quiet. Not including the sounds of Sylus’s low, pained grunts as you dress his wounds, it’s quiet. You’re quiet, and it’s unsettling—on a typical day, you’re more than half the noise.

(In a good way, of course. Sylus is not a liar by any means, and saying he doesn’t like the constant sound of your voice as you talk would be a ridiculously big lie. He values the truth in things.)

It means you’re brooding. Sulky, petulant brooding. He’ll just have to fix that, he thinks—and soon, too.

“I’ll have to trouble you a bit longer, sweetheart,” he murmurs, breaking the silence as he glances at his arm.

You glance up and stare at the damage: a stab wound to his abdomen, a gash on his arm, and ugly, unwelcome bruises littering across soft, slightly tanned skin.

You frown. It borders on a scowl. He watches as you carefully stitch the wound closed on his lower belly with precise fingers. (Faintly, his mind registers that you’re good at this. Too good at this. He doesn’t like the implications of that—not for his own case and especially not for yours.)

“Does it hurt?” You mumble, finally.

Sylus is not a liar by any means, so he hums, titling your chin up and forcing you to pause. “Yes,” he says truthfully. You’d never guess he was in pain just by the look on his face—but there are always signs if you look close enough.

Sticky, sweaty skin. Deep, labored breaths. Slumped posture that’s so far from his usual tall, towering stance. He looks just a bit tired, too. Like sleeping (something he rarely does enough to be considered healthy) would be his ideal course of action right now.

You frown at his admission. “I told you not to get so close,” you huff, “you never wait for me.”

He chuckles. Deep, slow. Every time Sylus laughs, you’re reminded how powerful he is. How even through the sound of his amusement alone, he sounds important. Wealthy, too, if you’re being honest—he laughs like the rich. But that’s always amused you more than it’s impressed.

“You seem rather distraught, love. Dare I say….you’re concerned?”

“You’re too smart to act this stupid,” you spit.

He grins. It’s large, wide, and all too smug for someone who’s under your hands as you mend back torn skin. Gently, he hums, “so the kitten bears her fangs. How cute.”

Your mood is getting increasingly worse. Sylus knows that—but sometimes, he’s a little selfish. Pushing you harder, cornering you against the wall with smart words and sly teasing is the only way to make you open up sometimes.

And, well, Sylus is no liar. He can’t say he hates getting under your skin entirely—it makes you look at him. And he likes your attention. But more than that, he likes knowing you care.

“You don’t think I’m capable,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes.

“And when did I say that, Miss Hunter?”

“You don’t have to say it, I just know. Otherwise, you’d listen when I tell you to wait,” comes your agitated reply.

Sylus does not wait for you. He jumps into a fight without letting you step foot onto the battlefield. Most times, it’s a minor form of irritation on your end when you’re itching to get in a good few hits. Sometimes, like now, it makes your emotions saturated in every form of distress.

Anger. Sadness. Regret. Panic. All of it simmers and simmers until you feel you’re overflowing with something you can’t quite put your finger on.

He pays the price today—one sloppy dodge of a blade, and it impales his lower abdomen with precision, lacing him with something. Something that evidently is rather good at repressing his evol—he can’t fight nearly as well let alone heal.

You can’t help but feel useless. More than anything, under appreciated. Maybe, if he’d waited just a moment so you could have covered him, then maybe your night would end with less blood on your hands and less pain on his.

“You’re also too bright to act this dim,” he says lowly, voice just a bit tight with pain. You tighten his stitches, and he doesn’t even grimace despite the clearly unpleasant sensation.

“Do tell me,” you glare, “just what am I being dim about?”

“If you think I don’t recognize your capabilities,” he drawls, studying the knife that once tore through his flesh slowly. It’ll be analyzed at the base. You’re certain he’ll figure out just what the blade was laced with and trace it back to its origins soon enough. He sets it down and meets your eyes—deep, rich crimson bleeding into your gaze. “Then maybe you’re not as good at seeing the bigger picture as I thought.”

“That you’re a smug bastard who likes to prove you’re better on your own?”

“That I care about you,” he says plainly. “I can handle it. It’s better you than me.”

“You could have died,” you hiss, “if I wasn’t there—”

“I’d have lived either way,” he says smugly. “Killing me is a rather difficult thing to do. Inflicting pain, on the other hand….well, at least it keeps things interesting.”

Your face drops. Not because he’s wrong, but because he’s so right. You can injure him all you want, but he heals fast enough that he’s here to stay. Like an annoying thorn that keeps pricking you as you pick roses. Like a weed that just keeps growing back the more you tear them from the ground. He comes back. Annoying as he is, he comes back. And you don’t mind that so much—you think you might even need it that way.

But it always hurts. He bleeds red just like any other person. Grimaces here and there despite how accustomed he is to the agony. Somewhere along the line, his pain became yours.

And you can’t help but be hyper aware of how much you despise it.

“I hate when you’re hurt,” you whisper.

“I’ll live,” he soothes, cupping your cheek and swiping a stray tear with a large, callused thumb. You shiver, pouting slightly at the words. “I’ve had worse.”

“But you still feel the pain.”

“Can anyone really avoid that, sweetie?” He raises an amused brow.

Before he can open his mouth to add more, you lean closer, careful not to hurt his wound as you press against his chest and bury your head into his neck, pressing a light kiss to the skin.

His breath hitches, and you think you’ve finally gotten through that thick, stubborn front of his.

“If it hurts,” you murmur, “then I can make it feel good.”

He shivers—barely, of course. But he shivers. It’s a small win. “Oh?” He asks carefully, his good arm curling around your waist to keep you in place. “And how so?”

You press a lingering kiss to his jaw. Your lips are not strangers to Sylus. They know him as well as he knows them too, but you’ve always danced along the edge of more than friends and less than lovers. One second, you think you’ve crossed over the line with graceful steps, the next you fall ten steps back.

Right now, you think you don’t care. Line be damned and whether you’re just friends or lovers, you couldn’t be more unbothered.

“I don’t like when people touch you,” you admit, “not at all. But especially not so….rough.”

“Mmh, jealous are we? Don’t worry, you’re the only one I willingly let touch me,” he grins. You roll your eyes, watching as he shuffles back to lean against the couch and relax.

“I should be the only one who touches you,” you say with an air of petulance.

“Yes, yes,” he agrees, placating your mood, “then show me something more gentle,” he whispers.

You smile. It’s the first one of the night, lips curling against the shell of his ear as you breathe, “oh I intend to.”

Just like that, your hand trails up his thigh, carefully tracing along the inner edge of his leg before your palm roams over his crotch. There’s a bulge forming as if on command. Your ego boosts just a little—for all his strength and endurance, one brief, mere little touch from you forces his body to react against his will.

“Is this really where you should be putting in all your effort?” His breath hitches, and the tips of his ears flush a pretty, soft little pink, “my arm still has an open wound, you know.”

“You’ve had worse,” you repeat his words back to him, “but let me show you better.”

It’s quick work, unblocking his belt and unzipping him just enough to gently pull out his half-hard cock. You glance down, smiling at the small bead of pre cum that leaks from the tip, forming a kind little opportunity for you to watch him squirm as your thumb grazes his cockhead to collect it.

You smear it along his length as you slowly stroke him to full hardness, and he offers you a shaky little huffed out, “fuck,” under his breath.

“Does that hurt, too?” You hum, nose pressing into his jaw as you kiss his neck.

“No,” he sighs, melting into you, “no it feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Do you see how nice it is when you just trust me?” You scold, “now apply this to the battlefield, too.”

He chuckles deeply at that, closing his eyes and fighting the urge to fuck his hips into your fist—his stitches are still fragile enough that he doesn’t want to risk tearing them. Instead, he has to trust that you’ll give him what he needs, all on your own.

“I’d rather get hurt and be spoiled like this,” he mumbles, “than risk anything happing to you. Seems like a better option if you ask me.”

“So stubborn,” you click your teeth.

Sylus is not a liar. You know that. If he says you’re capable, then you believe him—and if he says that he’d rather take the brunt of injuries and the pain that comes with them just to finish a fight before you can be involved, you know it’s not a lie. But you don’t always like the truth. You don’t like knowing he uses himself as a shield of sorts for you, as some wall between you and pain or maybe even death just because he can. Just because he heals. Just because he thinks he should.

You don’t always like the truth. Sometimes, you’d rather live in a lie.

So you tell yourself he thinks you’re less than him. That you’re lacking and beneath his approval and you have something to prove—so your hand tightens around his thick, reddened cock and you stroke fast. Quick and to the point.

Enough to have him groaning with an arm instinctively moving to cover his eyes as he throws his head back—only he hisses, feeling the stinging tug on his gash as he moves.

You hum, guiding his arm back down as you cup his cheek and murmur, “careful now. You’re hurt—I wonder whose fault that is.”

He rolls his eyes at the comment—but one swipe of your thumb through his slit has them rolling back in pleasure before he can glare at you. “You’re rather smug today,” he huffs, “do you like seeing me defenseless, sweetheart?”

“Not for the reasons you might think,” you say sweetly, grinning as you peck his cheek. Right where you cut him the first time you met. Right where you think you’ll always have to soothe so he knows you didn’t mean it.

Not anymore, at least.

“You’re far from the innocent kitten you seem to be,” he grins, huffing out a soft laugh as it tapers off into a light, breathy moan.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Enough to make you forget the pain?”

“Oh yes,” he grins. Suddenly, a wave of red wraps around your hand and forces your grip to tighten. “I’ve forgotten I was injured at all.”

His evol, you realize—it’s back.

You stare at the gash on his arm—crimson on crimson as the flurry of his power replaces the blood, leaving behind soft, healthy skin. Not a scar left behind. Not a trace of pain. Not even a faint line of where torn flesh mended together and became new.

He’s had worse, you remember. And he comes back from it every damn time.

Still, you think—you’re going to give him better.

“I don’t want you hurting because of me,” you breathe, leaning into his chest and pressing your weight against him without worry, now. Your hand fists his shirt as his arms wrap around you and keep you close.

Your hand glides along his girth between your bodies, working him up slowly, slowly, slowly until it all feels like it’ll come crashing down all at once. His breath hitches as he lets out a light groan of your name.

It sounds pretty on his tongue. You’re more determined to pull nicer sounds from him, too, so you kiss under his ear lobe, sucking gently on the skin and feeling him let out a soft, labored gasp.

“Will you spoil me like this every time I’m hurt?” Sylus breathes.

You scowl and hiss, “no. Absolutely not. Then you’ll just get hurt more.”

He smiles smugly at the retort, biting his lip as you squeeze your fist around him tighter. “A smart little kitten, aren’t you? Sharpening your claws.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You like me enough to worry. I think that says enough.”

“Asshole,” you glare.

He’s shameless, you think. Because the insult brings him to the edge, his mouth falling open to a beautiful face of bliss, body quivering under you in soft tremors of pleasure. Sylus is beautiful. Dark, rough around the edges, and uncut stone with sharp corners. Beautiful enough to want, dangerous enough to slice your fingers if you don’t know how to touch him properly.

You admire him as he spills into your hands, his lips desperately searching yours as he leans closer and pulls you into a kiss, heavy breaths pouring into your mouth as he gives himself to you.

“Good,” he pants, “you…you make me feel so good.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to be here for,” you murmur, “so you don’t have to feel pain.”

You stroke him through his orgasm, until he’s soft and pliant and limp under your touch. Gently, you stroke his cheek with a thumb as you cup his face. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes.

“As capable as you are,” he says quietly, “I like the idea of you spending your energy in other fields of expertise. Sue me.”

“I should,” you purse your lips. “Sue you for all you’re worth.”

“It’ll be worth the troubles,” he says smugly, “you’ll get quite the sum if you manage to.”

And he’s not a liar, either—so you scoff at his smug, truth-telling grin before giving his curved lips a small peck.

Girl . Idk

#—rivistyping!#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #lads smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l

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luv-lock · 2 months ago

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ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤPERFECT LIFEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Damian Wayne x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How would he be as a husband?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Marriage with Damian Wayne is not a fairytale—it’s an obsession disguised as devotion.

From the moment Damian slipped that ring onto your finger, he silently swore to himself that no force in the world—be it man, god, or monster—would ever take you away from him. You are his, and he is yours. Completely.

Damian is the kind of husband who worships you in his own intense, borderline overbearing way. He refers to you as "beloved" in private and "my wife" with a possessive pride when speaking to others. The word "you" leaves his lips like a prayer, filled with reverence and authority all at once.

He memorizes every single one of your habits and preferences. He knows how you take your coffee, the exact temperature you prefer for your showers, the kinds of books you gravitate toward, and even the way your breathing changes when you're upset. It’s all cataloged in his mind so he can anticipate your every need before you even voice it.

Damian rarely lets you out of his sight. Even when he's at Wayne Enterprises or patrolling Gotham as Batman, his mind is constantly on you. He has cameras in the house to check in on you, and you can bet he’s hacked your phone to keep tabs on your location. He tells himself it’s for your safety, but the truth is he can’t bear the thought of not knowing where you are.

You’ve noticed how Damian often hovers. At first, it felt sweet—your husband leaning against the kitchen counter, silently watching as you cook dinner. But after a while, you realize it’s less about affection and more about possessiveness. He watches you like a hawk, as if ensuring you’ll never slip away from him.

Damian is fiercely protective, to the point of paranoia. You’ve never had to lift a finger in defense because he handles every perceived threat with ruthless efficiency. Some guy at work who got a little too friendly? Fired and blacklisted within the week. A stranger who made you uncomfortable in public? Let’s just say they’ll think twice before crossing anyone again.

He insists on walking you everywhere, hand firmly clasped around yours. When you protest, he coolly reminds you, "The streets of Gotham are not safe, beloved. Allow me this privilege."

Damian is terrifyingly romantic in the most intense, Damian Wayne way possible. He fills your home with rare flowers imported from across the globe, but you’ll find out later he had the entire shipment rerouted because he didn’t want anyone else to have them. He writes poetry about you in Arabic, his handwriting bold and precise, and hides the pages in places he knows you’ll find them.

Arguments with Damian can be draining because he does not let go. He won’t shout or lose his temper, but he will dissect the situation until you either agree with him or admit defeat. And if you try to storm off mid-fight? Good luck. He’s faster, stronger, and determined not to let you leave unresolved.

His softer moments are almost disarming. You’ll catch him staring at you when you’re reading or brushing your hair, and he looks so boyish and in love that it takes your breath away.

Damian is obsessed with physical contact. Whether it’s his hand resting on the small of your back, his arm draped over your shoulders, or his fingers intertwined with yours, he’s always touching you. It’s both grounding for him and a subtle way to remind himself—and everyone else—that you’re his.

Your wardrobe slowly changes under Damian’s influence. He loves seeing you in luxurious silks and soft cashmere, claiming you deserve only the finest. He buys you dresses and jewelry that scream wealth and power, though he always insists that nothing could ever truly compare to your beauty.

He doesn’t tolerate secrets between you two—at all. If you’re upset, he’ll press and press until you spill your feelings, his voice gentle but firm. And if you ever lie to him? He’ll know instantly. He won’t get angry, but his silent disappointment will cut deeper than any words ever could.

Damian spoils you to the extreme, but there’s an undertone of control in it. He doesn’t say it outright, but you know he expects a certain level of reciprocation: your attention, your love, your time.

When he sleeps (if he sleeps), his arm is always around your waist. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night and try to leave the bed, he’ll instinctively pull you back, murmuring, “Stay with me, habibti.”

Despite his obsession, Damian loves you deeply and wholeheartedly. In his own way, he truly believes he’s doing what’s best for you—protecting you, cherishing you, making you feel adored. And in those quiet, tender moments when he presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers how much you mean to him, you can’t help but believe it too.

But deep down, you know: Damian doesn’t just love you. He owns you. And he will never let you go.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

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cryinggirlnamedhelen · 2 months ago

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the small bundle covered in blankets felt heavy in kaiser’s hands. kaiser was by no means weak in; but when the previously crying baby was coaxed by your exhausted voice to sleep, millions of doubts weighed down on kaiser—even heavier than the weight of his father’s hands on kaiser’s neck when he was a child.

“i think she’s fond of you. she must have heard those conversations you had with her when she was still in my stomach.”

your small, almost inaudible voice brought your husband out of his trance. the soft blonde hair peeking out of the pale blue beanie—the hair most definitely being inherited from kaiser—were like golden rays of sun. kaiser looked down at you, sitting down on the bed you were currently lying down. kaiser moved his gaze to his daughter, who slept peacefully.

“i don’t know,” he swallowed, a tattooed hand gently caressing his daughter’s cheek. “am i…really cut out to be a father? what if i become just like him? what if i accidentally hurt her just like that piece of scum did with me? what if she hates me? what if—“

your eyes soften, remembering the days in your childhood with kaiser, when he was always playing with the stray dogs while soot and bruises, and sometimes even blood, ornamented his body. you’ll never forget the days when you were both 14, when he finally told you; his father’s treatment of him, his father’s constant drinking, how his mother left him, and how his goal was just…to be loved.

and that’s when you realized: he had no home—no an emotional one, at least. a boy who was never taught manners or how to survive or how to properly speak, a boy who was never taught what was good for him and what was bad for him. and he never even went to school either until bastard münchen taught classes.

you reached forward to reach his hand, kaiser once against moving his glance to you. “michael, you won’t. i know you won’t. you’re not him, michael. you’re you. and unlike when you were growing up, i won’t leave you or our daughter. ever.” you brought his tattooed hand up to your lips. “it’ll be hard, but im sure it will all turn out okay, michael.”

and suddenly kaiser feels a sting, tears beginning to pool at the brim of his eyes as his chest tightens. damn it, he didn’t even cry during your delivery…but when the two most important women—no, people, in his life are right in front of him, one of them looking at him like he’s the most precious treasure in the world, how could he not be vulnerable?

kaiser takes your hands and placed it on his chest—right where his heart is. he runs his thumb over the cool surface of your wedding ring on your finger, his daughter seemingly beginning to wake up, though still quiet.

“thank you for being in my life. i love you.”

———

to anyone who says “ooc” “kaiser would never do this” etc,

lemme just remind you that kaiser has stated MULTIPLE TIMES throughout the bastard münchen vs PXG match that his goal was just to be loved. another thing is that in kaiser’s official character profile (from the egoist bible), his type is described as “someone who’s beautiful, smart, and full of love”

(if anyone says “omg ness is literally his type” in the comments then im actually going to scream because i hate kainess with a passion. it’s so toxic and kaiser literally sees ness as a dog and ness’ so-called “feelings” for kaiser is just a result of manipulation. plus, ness doesn’t actually match kaiser’s type. ness is smart, yes, but ness has never been stated to be good looking in any way shape or form. in fact, judging from ness’ backstory, he might even be canonically ugly. plus, ness doesn’t ACTUALLY love kaiser. again, it’s just “feelings” that began to form from manipulation.)

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sos717 · 2 months ago

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Yes, Im Back

Here it is you guys, this is going to be the clearest and most simple explanation I’ve done so far of manifestation and your identity as conciousness and what that means for experience & the world unfolding. Don’t worry if you’re new to this, this will help!

THIS IS A MASSIVE POST, TAKE YOUR TIME AND GRAB SOME WATER, YOUR ABOUT TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE 😉🤭🤭

————————————————————

So around 7 years ago I started stepping into the world of what people typically call manifestation. I went down the rabbit hole of Subliminals, Law of Attraction, Law of assumption, NonDuality and finally to where I am now, the unlabeled.

I want to preface by saying, I have been through an unimaginable amount of turmoil, and growth while on my journey to understanding reality and the way the world appears.

I’ve spent all of my time from back to when I first found out about this side of reality, to today while I’m writing this post, constantly looking at a multiplicity of teachings and teachers to figure it out, except until the very end. I really want you to know this because it’s very important to not brush this off as if it’s not possible for you, as if you have to adapt a technique or secret. This isn’t something that’s to be exhausting. With that being said, let’s move forward.

We all want things, we all have ideas of a life we hope to live, we want to fill it with all the experiences and specific details that match our taste. But this is actually, where the problem begins.

The way manifestation is taught is inherently wrong, I’ve fully stopped watching and consuming content that has anything to do with manifesting all together, because no matter what it is, Law of assumption, Law of attraction, all of the other ideologies that promise your desires, they all have a fundamental flaw, identity.

They usually all entail a similarity: methods, techniques, specific things you can do and ways you can act to make an outcome happen. All the while throwing in a random “because you’re the god of your reality”. And instead of focusing on the phrases that relate to the center of all of it, YOU, it’s simply just brushed past.

And not just the typical “your source”, “your operant power”, “you are the manifestation,

We get it but wtf does that actually mean, and why should you care??? Well, let’s get into this, because once you start from point A, everything else makes sense.

What all these teachings of the world get wrong is the idea that you can want things and desire, as source. Fundamentally this is a paradox, you can’t exist in desire and want if you are the source of reality. It’s not to say you aren’t, but it’s to say, you don’t ACTUALLY want and desire, but the illusion of being separate from the world is what makes you want and desire.

Let’s break the illusion.

Ask yourself this for me. “Am I aware”.

The answer will always be yes. Undeniably. And no matter how many times you repeat this, the answer is always yes, no matter a feeling, no matter a pleasant or unpleasant experience in the world, no matter any circumstance, you will always say yes.

Why is this so important to explore?

Because you are able to see from direct experience what source is.

When you asked yourself that question, did you notice something weird that happened? It’s almost like everything paused for a split second and your attention went somewhere to find the answer, and a response came from there. Look closer, ask yourself the question again, and this time try to find where the answer is coming from.

You’ll find that it comes out of nowhere, and if you try to trace it as far back as you can, to even before you answer yes, there this empty space of knowing that the answer conjures in.

This is consciousness. This is you.

Whether you name it consciousness/awarness or knowing, it doesn’t matter, it’s all interchangeable. But the important thing to note is, this thing doesn’t ever go anywhere. That is your true identity, the starting point of all ideas, the starting point to anything that can possibly be known. Every decision is from here, every expression comes from here, everything leads back to knowing. When there is emotion, it is known, when there is idea, it is known.

You being able to know that you are aware comes from this. This is the unseeable, the thing that can’t be perceived in any way, this is origin, its source, and its you. Take a shot at it, try to see what knowing looks like, its weight, its shape, its color, its dimensions, what its favorite color is, what it doesn’t like or does like. You’ll be left with nothing, as in no descriptions, but definitely knowing that there is a presence there that never goes away. Now try finding its name, its age, its skin color, its voice. You cant, and yet, from this very nothingness comes your undeniable answer that you exist and you are aware of your existence.

You don’t need and feelings to know, you dont need sight, sound, and sense of perception, you don’t even need to acknowledge the body in any way, but you know you “are”.

At some point when there were no worlds and universes, there was an unseeable, dimensionless plane from what everything came from, does this sound familiar? Before there were things, there was no-thing, a presence yes, but no objects. And from this, reality was expressed, but source can’t go away, the fundamental key to everything there is today, has to remain, or else everything else would not exist.

Concouisness is what you are. And it IS the origin.

Now how tf do you live you dream life???

By understanding that the world is also just an expression of source, conciousness/you.

I need you to understand something that I thing we can all agree on, if everything has one source, it would only make sense for everything to be the extension of that thing that gives it life. The world is no different, and trust me I know this without a reasonable doubt. I’ve spent closer to a decade trying to figure this out. Everything exists in/on the field of consciousness/you.

I need you to trust me, because no matter how far you have been in your journey and how tiring it might have been like it was for me, I promise you, this is worth it all.

Step away from the ideas of wanting and needing, put on your neutrality glasses and perceive the world as 2 simple things, conciousness and conscious expression. These are the only 2 things that drive experience itself.

Understanding that you are source, more things become clear. Where do all the stories of all the unfavorable problems in your life activate from? Where does the idea of good events activate from? Where is it that any form of knowing come from, you. Whether it’s about struggling with money, or about someone loving you, the story or ideas, conjure from you.

We already know that we are conciousness, but now let’s acknowledge the second mosy important part, reality begins at us, draw yourself into something that you don’t really like, something you’d like to change, now notice where it activates from.

From knowing. Knowing the idea or story is its creation

Now when we see it casually, as just another thougt about something the world is showing us we brush it off and move on with our day, until we have to face that thing, but, what if this was actually in reverse?

Because if everything is an expression of source, doesn’t that mean the world is too? It would have to be. Doesn’t that mean, anything registered by the senses has to abide by its source? And doesn’t that mean, that the world is not truly something of its own will?

The short answer is yes absolutely. And I can tell you, this is it. THIS WILL BE VERY F$&#*NG IMPORTANT.

Admitting to the idea that there is one source for everything is literally acknowledging that everything can only show up IN ACCORDANCE AND RESPECT TO WHATEVER ITS SOURCE IS.

THIS MEANS, the the world is a PROJECTION of source, IT DOES NOT STAND ALONE. It does not OPERATE ON ITS OWN.

The world is the projection of consciousness.

Following me??

Like a hologram, like a school projector QUITE LITERALLY a projection.

From us, an infinite array of stories and ideas come, and they only become activate or exist if we allow them to, if we give permission to this thing to exist.

That story that you’ve had about SP (Specific Person) or Money or Success, has always been activated by you. TELL ME WHERE ELSE IT STARTS. You can literally even prove this to yourself right now. WHERE DOES THE STORY BEGIN.

And because the world is just an expression/extension of its source (YOU) it is ONLY GOING TO BE WHAT SOURCE IS. Because it is source, just with senses and perception. It is coming face to face with what you are aware of.

The way the world shows and all of its details are projections of whatever you decide to activate. How do you activate something? BY KNOWING IT.

How do you know “red apple” ? By knowing it. That is the origin for this idea. And you can run this test for every single story you play on loop, find its source, it will always be you.

Now, for the important steps moving forward. Stop treating this like an on and off switch, truly stop caring about a feeling, stop letting yourself get so swayed out of understanding your identity as the source, do NOT give up this beautiful opprotunity just because it seems or feels different.

You’ve been taught for so long that the world has to be struggle, so that’s all you know, you’ve been told that things don’t always come easy, this is all you know, take the time, take the days and weeks you need to break out of this useless cycle of exhaustion and understand who you are as source

Do not double down on doubts, double down on the truth, regardless of how you feel, take your time to feel, take your time to be, but never allow yourself to slip back into the brainwashing of the world.

Moving forward you need to understand the world objectively, not with the ideas of wants and desire, but for what it is. Source can’t want, you turn it into desire by creating a sense of divide for yourself. You pretend the world is something to change, drop this. You pretend that the body is all you are, drop it, you pretend that there has to be more to this but knowing, DROPKICK this into the damn ground.

This all is very simple. Everything being the expression of source is only projecting what source (You) are. The world is a direct projection of conscious activity. Whatever is know is given permission to exist, it’s given life. It’s created. THIS. IS. IT.

Whether it be blue butterflies, getting a free coffee, or changing your eye color, it all is just knowing. And this isn’t something that turns off. This is reality, this is you. Start noticing the random things the world shows up as when you were just thinking about it the other day or a few hours ago. It is not a coincidence I assure you.

That friend you were thinking about calling you? Yeah.

That song you were thinking about suddenly popping up? Yeah

That “problem” you were thinking about suddenly reappearing? Yeah

It is all the same, yes it will take getting used to, but please understand me when I say this, it took me a painful amount of time and effort to finally see this as the truth, the amount of months I’ve spent isolating from content and other teachings allowed me to take ONLY personal experience, I tested it day in day out and this IS it.

Currently I expand my comfort on how seamless existing is, and I can assure you, if I can come to this conclusion, you 100% can because it has NOT been easy for me, and it almost didn’t want to accept it. But the moment I did, and kept seeing it to be true time and time again, I knew I had to go fully in.

You create the idea of wanting by doing this.

“I really want Sp to text me”

This is what you’ve given permission to exist, this is now activated, it now is conscious activity, and because the world is source projected with senses the world IS this.

You treat it like an absolute, but when it comes to something like this:

“Sp loves texting me”

You treat it as effort, and something to do and wait on. Now tell me, does that make sense? Does the idea of waiting, wanting, desiring, changing, even make sense with the knowledge you have up to this point? Nope.

You need to understand. The world is not a story, it’s projection, and it can only be projecting you. Stop turning to the world as if it can make statements, as if it’s feeding you ideas, when you’re the one activating them. You NEVER actually change the world, it’s you that activates a new idea. THATS IT. It exists because you know it. A feeling cannot stop you from knowing, the world cannot stop you from knowing, ONLY YOU can stop yourself from activating a story. A story can’t exist if it isn’t known.

So, don’t you think it’s about time you see past the illusion of wanting and see for yourself what you are?

Don’t you think it’s time, to wake up.

#blommp717 #nonduality #manifestation #manifest #non dualism #law of assumption #master manifestor #nondualism #advaita vedanta #law of attraction #loa tumblr #manifestationcoach

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nxuvillette · 1 year ago

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“THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING”

LOSING YOUR VIRGINITY W/ TR MEN

synopsis: your first time is supposed to be special and with the right person. luckily, you have an amazing boyfriend who is willing to make that dream come true.

❥- including : manjiro (mikey) sano, ken (draken) ryuguji, baji keisuke, hanma shuji

❥- note : first tr post 👍🏻 i’m kinda nervous because these were a little longer than my last post but i hope y’all enjoy <3. reblogs are appreciated!!

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, virgin!reader, established relationship, virginity loss, praising, oral sex [f!receiving] (mikey , baji), fingering (draken , baji , hanma), finger sucking (baji), slight breeding kink (hanma), creampie (draken , hanma) use of pet names (baby , princess , babydoll , doll) multiple orgasms.

♡ MANJIRO (MIKEY) SANO

you and your boyfriend mikey had been together for a little while. he was nothing but kind to you, and you honestly trusted him more than anybody else that you knew. he was everything.

intimacy had never really crossed his mind before. sure, he knew sex was important, but it wasn’t something he necessarily saw as a necessity in your relationship. not to mention, you were a virgin. you knew things about sex and such, but you never acted upon those desires you had inside your head. mikey was also patient. he never really saw sex as something that had to be rushed.

eventually, you reached that point after your one year anniversary that you were ready to lose it to him.

mikey honestly couldn’t believe that he did so little to you, yet you were a dripping mess when he took your panties off. he believed if you weren’t a virgin he wouldn’t even need to do foreplay to make you feel good, but he wanted to make sure you were prepped and you got to experience a great first time with him.

his favorite part was watching you squirm and tremble as his tongue dove into your sopping pussy. you hadn’t experienced such a feeling before and it was so thrilling. his tongue dragged along your slit and you almost came from him just eating you out. mikey couldn’t get enough of how delicious you tasted. he was in disbelief that someone as good as you was hiding like this for so long. it took everything in him to not keep eating you out.

when mikey finally entered you, you were both in complete heaven.

mikey was fairly long and his size made you gasp. he was reaching spots that made your mind feel dizzy. with all of the prep he did it also didn’t feel as bad as you thought it would have. he couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. your pussy was hugging his cock so nicely he thought he’d never be able to actually leave it. it was so warm and perfect.

once you gave him the go ahead to start moving, he made you feel like you were on some type of drug. the feelings you were having were so euphoric. you craved more. you knew he was being gentle on purpose, but you were beyond wanting that soft and delicate sex.

“m-more, mikey! i need more.. please..” you begged, gripping onto his forearms to show how desperate you were for more of him.

hearing those words snapped something inside mikey, and he ended up quickening his thrusts into you. the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot, making you see white stars in your vision and your body to completely ignite. “fuck.. don’t you worry, baby, i’ll give you all you’ll ever need..” he looked into your eyes, making you feel somewhat flustered at his words.

you were so close to reaching your high. you were practically clawing at mikey’s back and letting out the most lewd noises every time he rutted into you. this was the first time you had ever felt something so intense in your life. not even your own hand could make you cum that hard. it was like that white hot pleasure in your gut was finally unleashed and it was making you go crazy. mikey had also cum, too. he was in utter shock at how much he released onto your stomach, but he was more than satisfied with the results.

he pecked your lips, a smile writing itself on his features. “you were so great.. i’m so proud of you.”

♡ KEN (DRAKEN) RYUGUJI

dating toman’s number two was definitely one of the best decisions you had made in your entire life. draken was a better man than your own father and he did everything right in your relationship. he was practically someone who had zero flaws.

there were a few times you and draken had gotten close to actually having sex. sometimes you’d come over to his place and end up with his hands down your pants, but it never escalated to you both carrying out such an act with one another. draken was well aware that you were a virgin and he didn’t really have an issue with that. he wanted to be the one to make you feel good and he didn’t care how much time it took. unlike some men, he had genuine patience.

you and draken had been in his room that night it happened. you were both watching a movie when his hands began to wander around your body, squeezing and massaging your skin to make you feel aroused. it didn’t take long for you to end up on top of your boyfriend with your crotch pressing right up against his aching bulge.

when you paused in your actions, you whispered to draken that you were ready to finally take that step with him. he was honestly a little surprised to hear such a thing, but he wasted no time pressing your body onto the mattress and going down on you. he almost came on the spot when he came face to face with your weeping pussy. he knew with his size that you’d need the prep, so he took his time with you.

draken used two of his thick fingers to push into your cunt. he was astonished at how tightly your walls surrounded his digits. he loved hearing you call out his name each time he pumped himself into you. you were such an angel.

once he had made you cum twice, he knew you were ready.

you were honestly kind of nervous. draken was the biggest you had ever seen. when he pushed his cock inside you, there was this sharp inhale that escaped your lips. he was so thick. the girth was stretching you out to almost your limit and you practically held onto him for dear life as he bottomed out into you. you didn’t think he’d be able to make it fit, but he did. he could tell you had some discomfort, so he peppered a few kisses onto your face and whispered sweet nothings to ease you. all he wanted was for you to be comfortable.

you gave him the nod of approval to start moving and you honestly thought he was going to split you in half. his cock was so big. you felt that vein dragging along your walls as he thrusted and it sent you into pure bliss. you could hardly contain the cries of pleasure that spilled from your throat. “d-draken! shit.. ‘feels so good!” you looked at him with hazy eyes while he fucked you so effortlessly.

your voice was like music to his ears. draken’s dick twitched when he heard how his name slipped off your lips. “yeah? you like that, princess? you’re so fuckin’ tight.. i can’t get enough of this pussy..” he grunted.

that knot inside your belly has finally snapped when those words processed through your foggy brain. draken groaned hard when your cunt clamped around his cock, milking him of what was left in his balls. he couldn’t hide his smirk when he realized he had filled you up with his cum. you seemed to enjoy it too, judging by the moan you let out when you felt him covering your walls with white.

he leaned towards your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. it sent shivers down your spine at the action. “round two..?” he asked, seductively.

♡ BAJI KEISUKE

sexual intimacy was never something that was a necessity in your relationship with baji. the two of you often focused on more romantic things than the physical aspects of a relationship, but that didn’t mean that you two never craved those inappropriate desires.

baji knew from day one that you were a virgin. he accidentally asked that “are you a virgin?” question when you both went on a date and almost slapped himself when he realized he came from his mouth. you thought it was kind of funny and you ended up revealing to him that you were a virgin. he didn’t mind at all, and he assured you that he’d never put you in a position where you felt forced to have sex with him. he said sex came naturally and when you were ready to do it with another person.

you and baji went on a nice ride on his bike that night. there was a gorgeous sunset that you both watched and he took you home, expecting you to go into your apartment and not look back. however, he was quite shocked when you tugged his arm to come with you. this hadn’t happened before, so it took him off guard. nonetheless, he followed you up to your apartment and went inside with you.

after you both shrugged off your jackets, you both ended up in your bedroom and baji was the one on top of you. the two of you hadn’t expected it to become so heated that quickly, but you were too far lost in your bliss to even think about stopping. he paused when he realized you were tugging at his belt buckle. he questioned if you wanted to do it and you nodded eagerly. you told him you were sure that you wanted to proceed and he wasted no time diving into you.

baji thought your body was so gorgeous. he couldn’t stop kissing at your skin and sucking to leave marks on it. when he reached your cunt, his mouth practically watered at the sight of it. it was so puffy and cute that he couldn’t help but have a taste. his tongue swiped over your sensitive bead, causing your thighs to trap his head. he was so talented with his tongue and his fingers that you swore you could cum from just him eating you out.

once his chin and lips were completely covered in your arousal, he decided to finally pull out his cock that was aching so painfully.

as soon as baji entered you, your eyes rolled backwards into your skull. the pleasure already felt so amazing that you were already feeling needy for your boyfriend. baji had a pretty impressive size, so taking it was a bit painful at first. he was, however, very good at talking you through that sting. he kissed your lips and whispered how beautiful you were, and he praised you for taking him so well despite the stretch of his cock.

once he started moving, you wrapped your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you. baji thought your pussy hugged him perfectly like you were made for him to make love with. you were so gorgeous. he could hardly keep his eyes off of you. “f-fuck me, baby, you’re so beautiful.. bein’ such a good girl for me..” he pressed his thumb against your pretty lips, in which you sucked on it obediently.

you whined as baji adjusted his angle. his cock was now repeatedly hitting your g-spot which sent waves of pleasure to crash over your body. he was taking such care of your body that you didn’t think you’d ever need to fuck anyone else but him. “baji! oh, god, baji!” your nails dug crescents into his skin as he fucked you.

you threw your head back as your orgasm snapped through you. your pussy creamed around baji, earning several grunts from him. he pulled out the moment he felt his high hurdling towards him. sticky white cum covered your stomach, making a mess on your skin.

baji kissed your cheek, a smile appearing on his face. “you were perfect.. let’s wash up and cuddle after, yeah?” he nodded, in which you agreed.

♡ HANMA SHUJI

dating someone like hanma shuji meant you had to deal with his sarcasm and also his flirty nature at the same time. however, he treated you like a princess regardless of those random snarky moments he had. he did anything for you and you couldn’t be happier with any other man.

hanma almost didn’t believe you when you told him you were a virgin. it wasn’t like he thought you were lying for some other reason, but most people your age weren’t virgins. he didn’t see it as a problem, though. hanma thought it would be cute to someday take your virginity. he craved that physical intimacy more than you anticipated, but he was patient with you when it came to the matter. he would wait as long as you wanted, even if there was a side of him that desired to fuck your brains out on a daily basis.

he took you out earlier in the day for some shopping. you were used to being spoiled by him at times, so it wasn’t unusual. he knew the routine fairly well but he was kind of surprised when you both got home and you were being more touchy with him than usual. you brushed yourself over his crotch a few times and kissed him a little longer than normal. he wondered what you wanted, because he couldn’t handle teasing whatsoever.

he was taken back when you told him you wanted to have sex with him. he thought it was a joke, but he knew you were serious when you gave him that look. he didn’t waste another second dragging you into the bedroom and pouncing on you like he was a wild animal going for his prey.

hanma took care of you. he made sure every inch of your body was kissed by his lips. he wanted you to know how stunning you were while you were naked. he swore god had favorites in that moment. it took everything inside of him to not completely ravage your cunt. when he slipped his fingers into you, he was shocked at how easy it was. you were practically soaking wet. his fingers were also quite lengthy. he curled and twisted his digits to find that button inside of you that would make you crumble in front of him.

you were shocked at how quick hanma had made you cum. before you knew it, he was hovering above you with his cock tip teasing your slit. you couldn’t wait any longer and practically begged him to enter you. he let out that usual chuckle and then pushed his cock into you, making your head fall backwards from how great it felt.

he made you feel like you were on the moon with how great he filled you. hanma could hardly believe you were taking him that well. you felt so full with him fully bottomed out in you. it took a little while for you to completely adjust to the size, but once that pain faded into pleasure, you had become a mess underneath your lover. he made your mind become cluttered and you couldn’t even think straight with how great the pleasure was.

“hanma.. oh, fuck! yes!” your fingers gripped the sheets underneath your body.

he smirked at your voice crying out for him. he could hardly hold back against you. he quickened his speed a little, but made sure to not overwhelm you completely. you were delicate to him and he only wanted you to feel safe with him. “god, babydoll, it’s like you were made for me..” he used the hand with sin to toy with your puffy clit. “‘gonna make sure you cum all over my cock..”

you couldn’t hold back anymore and completely let go on him. your pussy squeezed his cock tightly and covered it in slick arousal. hanma pushed a load into your womb, grunting as he reached his high. it was so intense he thought he might have cum twice from you.

he took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and pressing a few kisses onto your neck. “i’m so proud of you, doll.. you did so well..” he whispered, lovingly.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x you #mikey x reader #mikey sano x reader #mikey smut #draken x reader #draken smut #draken x you #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma x reader #hanma smut #tokyo revengers imagines

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vettelsvee · 29 days ago

Note

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.

"Yeah," was all he could say.

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.

"Oscar…"

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.

"Bebe…"

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…"

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.

"I love you too, Y/N…"

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you.

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance.

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you.

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths.

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder.

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

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darlinluxx · 2 months ago

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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐞 𝐁𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 ౨ৎ

pairing : kang sae byeok x fem!reader

warnings : nsfw

warnings for sfw : tiniest mention of sickness

warnings for nsfw : dom!saebyeok, sub!reader, tiny mention of knife play, degradation, strap

a/n : just thought i’d start off with some headcannons <3 if you have requests, feel free to message me <3

- Saebyeok probably wouldn’t be the first one to say “i love you”

- when she did say those three words, she would feel relieved. after all, she has been holding it in since she laid eyes on you

- and she doesn’t say it much, instead, she shows her love through different ways

- like remembering the smallest details — like how you take your coffee (or if you don’t like coffee), which side of the bed you prefer, or your favorite movies

- she has a habit of “borrowing” things of yours and never returning them

- she absolutely loves seeing you in her clothes

- the first time Saebyeok fell asleep on the couch with your head on her chest, it’s a bigger milestone than your first kiss

- Saebyeok struggles with accepting help or care when she’s sick. she’s used to acting like she’s fine. the first time she calls you because she has a fever is a huge moment of trust

- gives you a spare key for her apartment

- she’s not big on pet names, but i think from time to time she would call you, “darling,” “baby,” or “princess”

- always saying things like “i missed you,” “did you eat?” or “are you warm enough?”

- she expresses worry more through actions since she’s not the most comfortable with saying things. she’ll fix the bow on the back of your hair when you’re walking ahead of her

- when she’s upset, she goes quiet rather than angry

- Saebyeok’s love language is 100% quality time

- i think we can call come to an agreement that she’s not a fan of pda

- she will hold hands with you while walking though

- in private, she would like physical contact though. she’s always finding small ways to touch you

- loves to give you hugs — her arms wrapped around you as she holds you in her embrace, resting her chin on your head as she murmurs sweet words to you

- her favorite form of physical affection is playing with your hair while you lay on her chest as you two watch movies

- we can also all come to an agreement that this woman is PROTECTIVE !!

- is always near you out in public like a personal bodyguard

- carries her pocket knife everywhere

- while walking together, Saebyeok always positions herself on the street side of the sidewalk

- and what if i said she memorizes your schedule (without meaning to) just to know you’re safe ??

- the first time you meet Cheol, she’s more nervous than either of you

- Saebyeok doesn’t even realize that she leaves things at your apartment

- the first time she calls your apartment “home,” she doesn’t even notice—it feels natural

- she has a specific spot on the couch in your living room that becomes “her spot”

- Saebyeok is always the first to wake up. she’ll make coffee for herself and attempt to make toast but burns it. so once you wake up you’ll have to help her with cooking

- she keeps track of important dates, she never needs a reminder for your anniversary or your birthday

- she’s surprisingly good at domestic tasks. years of self-reliance made her practical

- she stress cleans when anxious. you can tell when something’s bothering her

- she loves late night talks. whether it be sharing goals in life or random thoughts, she’ll always enjoy it

- Saebyeok’s protective but not possessive, having learned the difference between love and control

- has trouble accepting gifts but puts incredible thought into giving them. no matter how many people she has to pickpocket, she will get you something she knows you’ve been wanting for a long time

- never makes promises she’s not absolutely certain she can keep

- she always keeps her promises

- Saebyeok keeps a journal of things that make you smile (she won’t ever admit it)

- is secretly good at video games but pretends to be bad so you can “teach” her

- loves sharing airpods with you when you two are on the subway or walking

- has a (secret) playlist of songs that remind her of you

nsfw ౨ৎ

- she’s a top / dom !!! anyone who says different is a liar

- okay and what if i said she’s lowkey into knife play ?? then what

- Saebyeok really focuses on making you feel good. gets satisfaction on seeing you cum

- she’s usually more on the rougher side, but if you want her to be gentle, she will be no questions asked

- “don’t get all shy now. it’s just me.” when you’re getting shy or nervous with her

- mix of praise and degradation !! “you’re so dirty for me.” “you look so pretty cumming on my fingers.”

- could eat you out for the rest of her life

- loves when you wear dresses or skirts cause it gives her the opportunity to slide her hand closer and closer to where you need her. and she knows. but she can’t resist teasing you

- loves fucking you with a strap just because ?? especially in front of a mirror

- sweetest aftercare, so so gentle with you. as if you’re made out of glass

#i need her #kang sae byeok #kang saebyeok #sae byeok #saebyeok #kang sae byeok x reader #kang saebyeok x reader #sae byeok x reader #saebyeok x reader #headcanon #squid game x reader #squid game

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago

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Malleus Draconia: Made Up

… Why does Malleus continue to have some of the most “hey are u lost bbg” facial expressions + poses ever on his initial birthday card artworks… 💀

He really looks like his mom when his hair is all pinned back like in his alt and Groovy look. xbjsbsjww The makeup products he’s using… They look like Giorgio Armani 💰

Rise and Shine!

Humans were blessed with two hands with which to do all of their work. Malleus Draconia had no need for either of his.

Lipstick, liquid eyeshadow, and finishing powder lifted into the air, glowing an eerie green. They uncapped and began applying themselves, gliding easily across his lips, painting his lids, and patting down his pale skin. Already, a cloth was busy polishing his horns, and a brush ran through his hair. A mirror, magically suspended before him, displayed his regal visage--a work of art slowly coming into its peak form.

You had heard Scarabia's vice dorm leader mention that he used magic to do his hair--a complex, precise process--but had never in your life witnessed a show like this. You clapped for Malleus, as if a spectator that had just seen a most wonderous trick.

He cut you a curious look. "May I ask why the applause, child of man?"

"It's just so cool seeing you use your magic," you replied truthfully. "There's so many things happening at once, it's hard to know where to keep my eyes. You're really amazing!"

There was a sound akin to a stifled chortle. These, you had grown accustomed to.

"You never cease to surprise. This is but a modicum of what I am capable of." He almost seemed to pout as he said it, as if itching to demonstrate the full extent of his powers. Wanting praise for something more.

"Oh, trust me. I know you are--but it's nice to see the Malleus Draconia using his magic to do normal, everyday stuff too." You grinned, ducking behind him to peek into his mirror. Your gazes met in the sparkling glass. "I wish everyone could see this."

"It is hardly a matter of importance to share the details of my morning routine with the masses. Besides, Grandmother would no doubt grant me a thorough scolding for allowing myself to be seen in such an improper state.”

He yawned, and a hand moved to cover his mouth, where you caught a glimpse of pointed canines. A rare moment of cuteness, of vulnerability. A side of himself kept private. Such a mundane thing--it reminded you that he, too, was but a student, preparing to tackle another day.

"Maybe not, but then again… maybe they'd see what I see too."

You quirked a brow. "And what is it that you see?"

"That you're not as scary as whatever scary made-up version of yourself they have in their heads. It's not all doom and gloom, wrath and lightning. You're someone that laughs and cries too."

"... Do they have that impression of me?" Malleus brought a hand to his chin. "Odd. When I last conversed with a peer of mine, they were so elated to be in my presence that they fainted on the spot. Lilia commended me for making such a strong impression on them."

"Erm... Lilia might not be the best judge for that." You poked at the corners of your mouth. "You have a nice smile, so how about showing it more? That might draw people to you."

"Hmmm. Like this, perhaps?"

He attempted to imitate you. The result was an awkward facsimile of your smile. Not quite the same curve, and with the tips of his fangs poking out. His eyes, still ominous.

Clumsy, but a little dangerous.

Your heart sprouted wings and fluttered. “It’s a good start! You’ll get the hang of it with more practice.”

Malleus sighed, and at once, the items that had been hovering around him collapsed along with his breath. “This is a conundrum. As a public figure and representative of my country, it’s imperative that I maintain my reputation.”

The fluttering in your chest settled like a stone sinking into the bottom of a lake. A sudden weight, a sadness, sitting in your stomach. He cut a gallant figure--but without the fairy lights and fire, he was but a pitiful creature trapped within stone walls.

Lonely and misunderstood.

Without a word, you slipped a hand into his. Malleus felt cold to the touch, like some long-forgotten relic dug up from some ruins.

His eyes shot wide open with alarm. "What are you..."

"Let's walk to class like this," you suggested softly. "I know you wouldn't harm me. If everyone else can see that... they'd understand, right?"

Shock flooded Malleus's face. Then, like a flash of lightning and a fleeting bellow of thunder, it was over, replaced by the faintest chuckle.

"... Very well." He squeezed your hand, the motion sending sparks of electricity through you. "I would not be opposed to this. If they are to weave tall tales, then all we must do is flip the script and write a story of our own to combat theirs."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x Reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Reader #self insert #Malleus birthday takeover #jp spoilers #something no one asked for #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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freyito · 6 months ago

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ᴅᴇʟʟɪɴɢʀꜝ ⨟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you wake up next to them.

✧ a/n: for those who have read my works since i first started writing, i made a little masterpost on the mk(1) boys nightly rotuines... i figured id do one for hsr men since my mk hyperfixation died and is buried 6ft under... and i might do one for the hsr men nighttime routines but for now... wakey wakey

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.9k

⎯ Aventurine

Ever the gambler, AVENTURINE even takes a gamble on waking up in the morning. He can set as many alarms as he wants, but he always sleeps in. He finds any excuse to cuddle up next to you and enjoy your warmth for a minute, or even an hour more. He doesn’t mind coming into work late, he always finds a way to slip out of write-ups.

You’ve lost count of how many alarms went off by now, as annoying as it was. Still, despite how important Aventurine was, he’s cuddled up against your back, hands gripping your clothes tightly as if you’d dare to wiggle out of his arms. You could remind him, again and again, that he needs to go, that he has a meeting that day, or a certain deadline, and he’ll just groan and say that his superiors can handle him being gone for another hour or so.

When you do manage to convince him to get up and start the day, he does everything with such reluctance. Forget his rank, forget all of it, he’d much rather spend several more hours in bed with you, even when the sun dips low. He’s slow to put on his uniform, asking you the most mundane of questions, with answers he already knows. He skips out on breakfast at hope, douses himself in that expensive cologne that makes you have to distance yourself until he leaves, and wires you enough money to buy the entire menu from the cafe you mentioned you liked in passing.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

The early bird gets the worm, as they say, and VERITAS is no exception to the saying. Considering work has him busy, he’s thoughtful enough to leave you to sleep, if you are not accustomed to a sleep schedule like his. He tends to wake up early, to give himself enough time to prepare himself for the day. He likes to be thorough, check over his lesson plan for the day, make sure he made no mistakes the day before (although he rarely needs to revise it).

While on the outside, he seems cold and uncaring, on the inside he’s flustering himself with how much he worries about you. He knows he will see you later in the day, when you’ll bring him his lunch, or after his lectures, but some part of leaving just unsettles him. Not that he believes you’d be in danger if you were gone, but more so how you take care of yourself. Of course he knows you’re capable, but some part in him wants to make sure.

So, before he leaves, right when you wake up, he does his best to cook a filling breakfast. Most of the times, Ratio has to put it in some tupperware and save it for later at work, but there are very rare occasions that he gets to enjoy the meal with you. He always makes more– “it was an accident, nothing more,” he’ll say, shaking his head, stoic as ever. But you know it wasn’t– and shovel it onto your plate, it’s his own love language.

⎯ Boothill

BOOTHILL is an early riser. It’s a habit that was ingrained in him since he was knee high. Granted, he doesn’t need much sleep, and he isn’t around as often as you’d like. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, and he really only swings by your apartment once or twice every month. But that doesn’t mean he’ll sleepover, if only for a night.

Despite the fact that he wakes up even hours before you, he decides to let you sleep. Sometimes he’ll stay in bed as long as you are, soaking in the peaceful sight, one that he’s never afforded himself until you came along. He reaches out ever so tentatively, as if he’ll feel your warm skin underneath his finger tips, but all it earns him is a shudder and your face scrunching. And when you wake up, he’s in such a hurry to pretend he wasn’t watching you sleep, mumbling apologies like he’s disturbed you.

When he’s not watching over you, Boothill enjoys cooking. He might’ve lost his taste and stomach a while ago, but he’s still an excellent chef. For all he can’t eat, he loves cooking. And he believes one of the best ways of waking up is to have a hearty breakfast. While you catch up on your sleep (most likely because he showed up at your apartment late into the night scuffed and bloody(?), acting like nothing happened), he’s making the most heavenly smelling pancakes ever, humming some old country tune to himself. If you dare get up to see what he’s cooking, he shoos you back to bed, tutting and claiming that you’re ruining the surprise, as if he doesn’t do this every time.

⎯ Gallagher

For such a busy man, GALLAGHER tends to sleep a lot. Or perhaps, too little. His schedule is always fluctuating, which means he’s up early and home late. It’s unfair, you think. Most of the time he’ll come home all quiet, settle on a snack, and then sneak into bed, and pull you up close. Half the time he doesn’t even care about his clothes, opting to take off his vest and shirt and throw them on the floor. He’ll worry about the laundry later.

That being said, it’s often a gamble if you’ll see him in the morning or not. He wakes up quite early, and as much as he’d love to spend time with you, cuddle up, and go straight back to sleep, he has to at least look presentable for the next time he’s called in. Most of the time, he accidentally wakes you up when he gets up to shower, but you settle back in quite comfortably.

Most of the time, he’ll have to leave right after his shower. So he’ll do his best to be quiet as a mouse, sneak in, and press a kiss to your forehead, before starting his day. But on the days he can sleep in, or when he doesn’t have work… he climbs right back into bed. The scent of his body wash rolls over you, in the near-overpowering sandalwood haven it is. He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, pull you impossible closer, and nuzzle into your neck. If you are awake by that time, he urges you to go back to sleep. ‘5 more minutes’, he’ll grumble, and in possibly record speed, he’s out like light. His arm loosens ever so slightly, as he snores away until his thirteenth alarm goes off.

⎯ Sunday

As a stickler for schedules, it’s no surprise that SUNDAY has a strict morning routine. He wakes up at 7 AM system time, 6 AM being too early, and 8 AM being too late. Of course, he encourages you to do the same. You get used to it with time.

He likes to start with a shower, of course. Something intimate with you, yet so normal. He does not mind spending an hour in the shower, but with his station, he cannot. So unfortunately, he has to cut such time short. But he makes sure to soak in every single minute left in the morning with you. A nice breakfast and some tea, as he chats away about his ‘chores’ for the day, what matters he is attending to, whether or not it is a day in the office or out and about.

Regardless of how busy his day is, Sunday makes sure you know that you are in every waking thought of his. A kiss and a hug at the door, and he’s on his way. You can see some flicker of sorrow as he leaves, as if it is something to grieve over, not being by your side for a minute longer. But alas, to achieve and infinite amount of sundays, he cannot afford to make room in his schedule for more down time.

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI never ceases to look as heavenly as ever, even in his sleep. However, he has quite a strict schedule he sticks to, something that manifested when his master started training him. He has quite the strict schedule: wake up early, shower, enjoy his breakfast, and start training, unless he has somewhere to be.

However, he does allow him so rest days, where he sleeps just a little longer, and allows himself more spare time. Very rarely do you catch him asleep when you wake up, and most mornings when he does ‘sleep in’, you often wake up to him gazing down at you. His head propped up by his hand, hair cascading down his shoulders. He could even miss out on several hours of sleep or perhaps even the entire night, and still look angelic. He greets you with a soft smile and a huff, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, as he waits for you to properly wake up.

And once you’re ready to get up, he’s ready to start the day. Anything you do, he's practically following you around like a lost puppy. When you make breakfast, you're either watching over his shoulder, or he is. He never skips out on a chance to dance in the kitchen, making something that was normally a spectacle regulated, and yet, it still feels as intimate as it does the very first time he pulled you into his arms.

⎯Sampo Koski

SAMPO KOSKI needs his beauty sleep. Granted, his sleeping schedule varies based on his business. Sometimes he needs to rob someone blind in the early hours of the morning, or his clients want to meet way past his bedtime. He’ll huff and puff and complain about it, but he always makes time to curl up in your arms like a poor little stray kitten.

When he is finally free of his dreaded work (his path in life that HE chose), he sleeps in quite late. Most of the time, he wants to enjoy the time he has left with you, pout and complain about how hard his job is (again, a career HE CHOSE). He has a lot to say when he (or you) wake up, only because he’s missed talking casually, and most of all, he’s missed you. His jobs and clients have him acting all proper, putting on some other character than he truly is for his clients. While there are some acts he likes… sometimes he just wants to break character and get his clients to buy whatever piece of junk he’s stolen.

Despite all his yapping, he truly enjoys the time he gets with you, even if most of it is him keeping you in bed. He pulls you up close to his chest if you even dare to move, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muttering pathetic little ‘don’t leave’s and the like. When you look down at him he’s just so tired, his eyebags are somehow seven times darker and he’s lost all that luster in his eyes. But you know he’s putting on an act. When you get up, he’ll be crawling to your side in no time.

⎯ Jing Yuan

Ah, the Dozing General. Who better to wake up with? While JING YUAN has to be up early, he doesn’t skip out on any time that could be spent with you. When his first alarm goes off, he’s quick to snooze it, rolling over and throwing his arm over your waist, pulling you closer. He’s used to waking up this early, of course, but he doesn’t like to miss out on those precious 30 minutes where he’s holding you close, uninterrupted. You’re accustomed to this schedule, as well. Wake up; but not really, spend the next moments cuddling, and then start your day.

As the Divine Foresight, he doesn’t get as much leisure time as he’d like, or days off. He could spend all day in bed, really, spoiling himself (as he sees it) to high heavens. But unfortunately, there is work that needs to be done, and he needs to start his day. And (un)fortunately, he quite enjoys dragging you along. A nice walk in the garden before he truly starts the day is a sign of a peaceful day. With you by his side, half-awake or not.

That being said, he does so because he wishes to spend every possible moment he has with you. His station means his workload will be unpredictable, and while he wishes that all days would be mundane, that wish will never come true. So, spending the first thirty minutes to several hours of his morning with you is what he rewards himself with. A nice meal and a good bath sets him in the right mood, being simply a step away at most in the morning.

⎯ Blade

BLADE doesn’t sleep well in general. Often times he’s woken up at all hours in the night by things he won’t share– “It’s childish.” is what he says, with a huff. Nightmares. It’s nightmares. He doesn’t have much of a reaction to them anymore, aside from grumbling and complaining quietly, which is normal. As much as he tries to go back to sleep, he simply can’t most of the time, opting to do something to keep his mind and hands busy, as sleep deprived as he is.

You tend to be met with his back when you wake up, tense as ever. When he can’t find something to do, he settles on meditation, which does nothing to calm the voices and ‘vengeance’ that addles his mind. It does too little for him, his mind always circling back to what could have been. The minute you shift in bed, he snaps out of it quickly, looking back at you with his unreadable gaze.

Most of the time, if you ask him to lay down with you, he will, as long as he doesn’t have an assignment he needs to be on. For all his sharp edges, he’s quite… dull when it comes to you. Perhaps it’s the many years he’s faced that’s made him lose his luster, or simply his own undoing. Yet, somehow, when you pull him in close, he relaxes ever so slightly. Perhaps not all the way, but it’d take you a couple more years to break down his walls completely. You could sleep for another three hours and he’d at least get time to close his eyes and let his mind rest; something he desperately needs.

⎯ Luocha

While LUOCHA’s “work” has him up quite early, well into the AMs. Of course, with all the traveling he’s done, his sleep schedule varies, and it’s not like he gets to spend as much time as he’d like with you, but you tag along all the same. He could be awake at 3AM system time and you’d be sound asleep until 10AM, and somehow, he’d still look as handsome as ever. You’re starting to feel a little jealous.

Still, he makes time to greet you in the morning. Aside from being a merchant, he is, of course, a healer, and he wants to make sure you're sleeping right. And, perhaps to catch up, if he has been gone for a few days. After all, not only does physical health matter, but mental, as well. A quick little chat, maybe some tender touches, and a hearty meal that he’s brought from the markets is quite enough mental stimulation, yes?

Sometimes, it seems he disagrees, choosing to crawl in bed alongside you, even if you chose to wake up properly. He’ll play with your hair, whisper sweet nothings to you, or simply just stare and smile. He doesn’t get to be affectionate often, either, and often that need for human touch culminates, which leads to those impromptu cuddling sessions in the morning.

⎯ Jiaoqiu

As a healer, JIAOQIU wants to make sure you (and him) maintain a normal, healthy sleep schedule. Unless he’s on an emergency call, he tends to wake up at a mostly normal time, between 8-10 AM. Of course, he wakes you up with him, wanting to start his day off right with your pretty face.

He wakes you up oh so sweetly for a man with such a scheming smile. His fingers glide over your skin, pushing your hair behind your ear, using such a sweet voice, one so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. And when you're finally properly awake, he’s all too excited to rush off to the kitchen, like a giddy child.

Of course, what’s a morning without Jiaoqiu without some breakfast? When you return from your shower, the kitchen is alive with his cooking, the sounds of sizzling and smells of spices (what else?) a delightful concoction. What is he cooking? Ji dan bing, a fulfilling breakfast. While you are the only person he cuts down the spice for, the food still has enough kick to make you make a face. Of course, his plate smells so spicy that it makes you recoil, which earns a chuckle from the Foxian.

⎯ Moze

Most of the time, MOZE sneaks into your shared bed by the morning, seeing as most of his work is carried out during the night. By the time he’s settled in bed, it’s around the time you wake up. It’s a peaceful sight, really. You’re so used to him scowling or simply not emoting, that when you wake up to his face, tranquil as ever, it makes your heart flutter.

Of course, that does not last. He is up within the first couple of seconds you stare too long, easily woken by any simple rustling. The feeling of someone’s eyes on him means one thing: danger. And he unfortunately hasn’t shaken that habit. However, he has grown used to the fact that it’s you staring at him in the morning hours, and thankfully you are spared a knife to your throat.

He jolts awake with a disgruntled groan, his eyes darting over your features, taking in as much information as he can in his hazy mind state, as if he hadn’t seen your face a thousand times over. Once he is satisfied with the fact that it’s you, he lays back down with a huff, before pulling you down with him. You may have the day to start, but he would like at least a couple more moments in bed with you, he’s stubborn that way.

⎯ Dan Heng

With his days off, DAN HENG tends to enjoy lounging. If not lounging, then reading, and if not reading, then cleaning. But most of the time, since you came back from the Xianzhou Loufu, he’s been sleeping in an awful lot. You're often the first to wake up, or at least, the first to get out of bed.

Most of the time, you sleep in with him, happy to get a couple extra minutes to a couple hours more of sleep. It’s a nice moment of peace and quiet after the amount of missions you two have been on, while March and the Trailblazer updates you on what’s happening wherever they are. Still, sometimes sleeping in gets kind of boring. So while Dan Heng catches on some much needed sleep (and alone time), you busy yourself with cleaning around the express, helping Pom-Pom with certain tasks, and even doing your best to cook up some breakfast.

When you bring your expert attempt at pancakes back to you and Dan Heng’s room, he perks up. He goes from sulking to practically beaming (or what you can consider beaming, you get a soft smile nonetheless), and digs in eagerly. It seems like enough to energize him for a couple of days, pushing away what had happened on the Loufu to the furthest reaches of his mind.

⎯ Gepard

GEPARD does not get much time in the mornings with you or himself. As captain of the guard, he has to be up early, and on call whenever the need arises. While it is very rare that he is called to dispatch an issue in the middle of the night, he is often reluctant to simply leave you in the morning. Of course, he won’t wake you for his own selfish reasons, he just simply wishes he could get more time to enjoy your presence in the morning.

As quietly as he tries to move, somehow he always wakes you up, or perhaps that's what your sleep cycle has gotten used to. Oftentimes, you wake up when he’s taking his shower, his soft humming rising over the sound of water. You know he only does this when he believes he is alone or heard, and every single time, you can’t help but think of it as cute. But you won’t tell him you heard it.

Most of the time you stay up so you can say goodbye to Gepard and tell him to have a good day, while he stumbles over excuses that he doesn’t need. He’s adorable in all his fluster, before he finally collects himself with a deep breath. He promises he’ll see you at the end of the day, and that he’ll bring some dinner home from one of your favorite restaurants.

⎯ Caelus

What adventure with CAELUS drag you on next? That’s a constant question that haunts your mind every time an adventure is done. The most sleep you get is on the Express, in between missions. In the morning’s, he wakes up with such determination, it’s almost impressive. He could have the worst sleep of his life and he wakes up raring to go.

Of course, he does his best not to wake you if you aren’t up. In fact, he’ll do his best to be as quiet as possible, sneaking out of the room, and even tip-toeing down the cabins. Like any little movement will wake his precious partner up. However, sometimes, when he’s feeling a little clingy, he’ll cuddle back in bed and pull you really close, refusing to let go unless you need to do something.

On the occasion you guys are out on a mission, he is the complete opposite. He could wake up well into the noon and groan and complain about not getting enough sleep, even if he slept like a baby. Of course, he wants to get on with his adventures, but at the same time, the hotel’s bed is soooo comfy, and he doesn’t want to leave. Which, he’ll keep you there too until he’s fully awake, spooning you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

⎯ Welt

On his days off, which seems to be most days now, WELT sleeps in only a little. Mornings with him are nothing short of intimate, simply laying there in each others arms, muttering sweet words. Truth be told, he enjoys these quiet moments, even if they push back the work he has to get done around the Express.

Still, no one's complaining, right? The work he has to get done will get done eventually, and he can spare a couple hours for his beloved. He cherishes every stolen second, as the hours tick away, his fingers trailing over your skin, before cupping your face. Framing his entire world in his palm.

However, you can’t stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, you do have to get up, and start your day. Welt won’t leave your side, though. Not if he can help it, at least. You two share a shower together, some more words, of course, and even cook together afterwards. Pom Pom huffs and puffs about not only Welt, but you being late and taking too long, and how the Express is founded on the structure of the schedule. It’s okay, however, because Pom Pom will be thanking you two for your hard work (sweeping the other cabins, cleaning the windows, and vacuuming the carpet) at the end of the day.

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ryker-writes · 9 days ago

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Hi hi dragged out of the void because I’ve been obsessed again thanks to book seven. Had this idea late at night based off a thing I do to people I really like and appreciate! (If people want different characters lemme know)

Can be seen as romantic or platonic

Request rules and Masterlists

Giving them a rock (Diasomnia)

Malleus:

This might actually be some sort of fae proposal now that I think about it…

But that’s a story for another day (if people want)

Setting aside the fact that he might take it as you asking him for marriage, Malleus would love the gift!

He’d love just about any gift you give him, but a rock? Even if it’s just a simple rock he loves it like its the best gift he’s ever gotten

He may be a bit confused at first and ask if this is a human gifting ritual or symbol he doesn’t know about

He keeps it on him at all times

The rock and roaring drago are some of his most prized possessions

His dragon instinct and care for you makes him want to keep the rock with him at all costs

If anything were to happen to it, either someone takes it, jokes about it, or he loses it, there will be a massive storm with thunder and lightning

If it’s either of the first two with someone taking it or joking about it…they might get struck by the lightning (he’ll say it wasn’t intentional but have that smile on his face that tells you it was absolutely intentional)

He might even put a protection spell on it to keep it safe or prevent/curse whoever takes it from him

He might also give you a rock in return someday, but it’s probably the most expensive gem you’ll ever have

Because according to him, he wanted to find a gem that was befitting to someone as precious to him, and nothing less than the highest quality would suffice for you

He won’t even let Silver or Sebek hold it

Maybe Lilia, but he’s hovering the entire time to ensure nothing happens

To Malleus, the rock is a precious gift that symbolizes just how much you care for and trust him, and he would never let that trust be displaced

He also brags to people that you gave him a rock

Lilia:

He laughs

Not in a hostile way or anything, but hes very amused that out of all the things you could give him, it’s a rock

That being said, he does like and accept the gift!

Lilia has traveled the world and seen many things, but he’s not too familiar with the idea of gifting rocks to others in a context outside proposing with gems or jewelry

His room is cluttered and a mess, but he keeps the rock you gave him safe on his nightstand so he doesn’t lose it

Over the years, he’s collected many things and items that remind him of people he’s met, loved, and has seen pass, and he keeps these items safe and serve as mementos of them and the memories that he’s shared with them

To him, the rock is the same thing for you

Every time he sees the rock, he’s reminded of you and how much you mean to him

He’d be pretty understanding of the sentiment behind the rock, and would try to find something to express the same towards you!

You may end up with a rock yourself, a small trinket he thinks you’ll like, or an item from his personal belongings

His gifts won’t be as grand or expensive as Malleus’ gifts, but they’re more personally picked to suit what he thinks you may like

If he got you a rock, it’d be from a distant land and with some of your favorite colors

Lilia would flip his entire room upside down if he ever lost it

It would look like a tornado went through his room and knocked everything around. He’d even have Silver and Sebek help him in his search, telling them it’s a mission of dire importance

The group would search for hours and hours trying to find the rock

Only for him to realize he put it in his pocket for the day because he wanted to show Kalim and Cater…

Silver:

He’s a little confused, but pretty open and appreciative overall!

He might ask if you’re part crow fae or something

Regardless, he expresses his thanks, and keeps the rock with him

But he does worry about what might happen to it when he falls asleep, so he asks you or Lilia if you can help him put it on a necklace or bracelet of sorts

So he always has it on him

Sometimes as he’s falling asleep, his hand unconsciously moves up and holds onto the rock

You’ll find him peacefully sleeping, rock in hand, and a smile on his face as he dreams

Silver doesn’t feel like he needs to give you something in return, and hopes you’ll be able to know he cares the same way without the gift of a rock

That being said, if he happens to come across a rock that he thinks is pretty or reminds him of you, he’ll grab it as a gift for you later

People can comment on it or joke about a rock being a gift, and he won’t pay any mind to them whatsoever

He knows the rock is an expression of how your care, and he treasures it, so why should he care if others can’t see it?

He would try and explain to people what it means, but if they aren’t going to understand then it isn’t worth explaining to them

In a way, he thinks of it as a good luck charm, and keeps it on him even when training or doing club activities

He’d feel absolutely terrible if he ever lost it, and would spend a good amount of time searching the campus for where he might’ve put it

If he’s unable to find it, he’d come to you and apologize deeply, but in all reality, it probably fell off in one of his napping spots or in his room and he happened to miss seeing it

Sebek:

The height of fae confusion

At first, he isn’t sure if it’s some sort of insult or if he’s supposed to use the rock for something specific

After you explain the rock and why you gave it to him, he huffs and acts like it’s not a big deal

But then he proceeds to flaunt to literally everyone that he received a rock as a token from you

The first day you give it to him, any person he runs into that happens to notice he’s carrying a rock around with him will receive a long explanation of how the human gave him this rock as a token of care and it’s a valuable treasure that they can’t even comprehend

He wouldn’t dare bring it to training or club activities in fear of losing it, but he does protect it like it’s a precious treasure that belongs in a museum

No one can touch it but him, you, Malleus, and Lilia

Maybe Silver if he needs it to be kept safe while he does something

Sebek isn’t too big on giving gifts, so he might not give one back to you unless prompted by Lilia, Malleus, or Silver

If they do, he isn’t quite sure how to express the sentiment behind the rock, or find a good enough rock

He’s trying, but just about no rock lives up to the standards he has for a rock to give you

It’s gonna be a long long time before he’s able to find a rock he thinks is fitting enough…

771 notes · View notes

dollzites · 2 months ago

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⏦ﾟ♡︎ YOUR HONEYMOON WITH GDRAGON

୨ৎ pairing: husband!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: wahhhhh! hello! so happy to take this request especially for my precious jiyong ): I hope I’m able to do well enough and you enjoy! x

with jiyong.. it’ll have to be a super extravagant trip! even if you don’t want it to be that expensive or crazy he’ll do everything that he can to make it the most romantic getaway you’ve ever been on.

if it’s somewhere with a beach? absolutely adores it because he can see you in such pretty swimsuits. no matter what negative thought you have about your body, he’s there to praise you and make sure that you feel your greatest and most beautiful.

jiyong will enjoy building sandcastles with you or at least try his best to attempt one and will either take so many photos of the you, the both of you, or a cute video of you and him building it together.

the gentleman he is he’ll ask if he can throw you in the water and once he gets the answer he wanted so badly, you’re picked up in an instant and thrown into the water but jiyong quickly checks on you to make sure he wasn’t too rough and holds you close against his warmer body pressing gentle kisses all over your face and down your neck. (he loves that)

if it’s a beautiful city? will take you shopping and spends so much money on you. don’t feel bad about it because he married you!! his money is your money and he will continue to spoil you so much.

“baby? I seen you looking at this dress and bought it while you were in the fitting room. can we go back there and try this one on, hm? I’ll be good.”

it’s so hard for him to behave but with your stern looks he acts scared to make you laugh and puts on his best behavior even if he wants so badly to take you back to the hotel and make love. yes I said make love because that’s what jiyong will say.

steals your phone to take pretty pictures of you to post and show your friends or family. he’ll then take plenty of pictures with his phone and stare at them for a few minutes before giving his attention to you.

“how’d I get so lucky? you’re so breathtaking.”

if it’s a tropical island? you’ll spend hours on the beach or he’ll take you to the aquarium! one of the largest in the city and hell of course buy you so much at the gift shop to remember this day.

it’ll be hard for him to wait for sex but he wants you to know and understand that isn’t the most important to him especially if he knows you’re super excited to leave the hotel and explore! so.. if anything he’ll do his best to wait for that night. what you want is far more important to him.

that night? well you’re in for a pretty long night with him. he’ll want to go for several rounds with a few breaks in between. each break he takes with you is a new special memory. he loves to hold you close to him and talk about all sorts of topics.

“wanna go another round? maybe this time in the shower or bath? that sounds so sexy.. I don’t know what it is about it. how does it sound to you baby?”

he’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and after? prepare for morning sex and it’ll be hard to say no to him especially knowing he’s now your husband. cooking for you so early and going out of his way to make everything so perfect? yeah you need him.

“I can’t wait for you to get pregnant. is that okay to say? I just can’t wait. I know we’ve talked about it before but to see you pregnant with my baby? it’s going to be something so special and exciting.”

jiyong will try all sorts of dishes and desserts with you even if he doesn’t think it sounds good. the best part about the honeymoon is bonding and sharing memories together. him gagging over something he really didn’t like was a great memory.

“look it’s a stray cat! should we bring it home?”

“please? can we just bring it home! looks so cute.”

that’s when it’s time to drag jiyong away from the stray cat because if not? you’ll end up bringing it back home with you and hours later? he’s asking about the stray cat and if it’s doing okay. awww

before the end of your honeymoon he pulls you into his lap and gets emotional about how lucky he is to have you as his wife and how beautiful this honeymoon has been. he’s the best husband you could ever ask for. romantic, sweet, caring, so supportive and one of the most handsome ever.

629 notes · View notes

sanguineterrain · 4 months ago

Text

knight in shining helmet | jason todd

Summary: You're a princess who's visiting Gotham City. You weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. Needless to say, your expectations of the night are in hell. You're hoping, at least, that you'll be rescued by the famous Batman. Instead, it's the infamous Red Hood that finds you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x princess!fem!reader

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings/tags: kidnapping, rescue, reader and jason don't get along at first, violence, drugging, meet-ugly, 7-eleven food as a courting strategy, kissing, softie jason (he always makes an appearance somehow!), strangers to...not-so-strangers.

the divider

You suppose that, for a princess, you ought to have expected a kidnapping to pan out at least once in your life.

You just didn't think it would happen tonight. In Gotham City. A place you weren't loving to begin with.

“Unhand me!” you scream as soon as your taker's filthy, sweaty hand leaves your face. “You'll be executed for this!”

You're not actually sure of Gotham's death penalty policy, but you feel like it's something you should throw in. In any case, the three men who've dragged you away, tied you up, and bruised you in the process, should be a little more afraid of getting caught.

“Batman will find you,” you add. “He'll save me.” You've heard great tales of Gotham's hero. If anyone can help you, it's him.

That makes one of them pause. But the ringleader sneers at you. “If he finds us. He's got a lot on his plate every night, ya Majesty.”

“I am a priority guest in this city, of course he would—”

“Shut her up,” the leader snaps, and suddenly, you're being gagged. Disgusting. Completely unsanitary. You don’t want to imagine if the gag has ever been washed.

You keep screaming and fighting through the gag until a needle pricks your neck. Your terror spikes as you realize there's suddenly an ultimatum to the fear: either Batman finds you in time, or he doesn't.

That's your last thought as the drug renders you unconscious.

When you awaken, it's still nighttime. Nearly pitch black, except for a dim lightbulb in the center of the room. It looks like you're in some kind of warehouse. You can't see much of anything and it makes you claustrophobic. Your head aches and your vision is blurry, and your cheek is pressed against a grimy floor. You just want to go home.

You try to sit up first, but that nearly makes you throw up, and you do not want to throw up through this ratty gag. So you swallow the feeling and close your eyes, waiting until the nausea passes. You open your eyes and they begin to adjust to the darkness. You’re alone, which confuses you.

Then you spot the explosives hooked up at the bottom of your dress.

The good news is that your kidnappers aren’t here. The bad news is that the reason they aren’t here is because they can remotely explode this place and you inside of it. If they don’t get the ransom they’re no doubt demanding, tonight will be your first and last night in Gotham.

Another thought chills you to your bone: what if the explosives are set to go off whether they get the ransom or not?

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears come. You’re going to die.

But wait. Maybe not. Surely, Batman is looking for you. And his young, brightly-colored companion. You never understood that color palette choice.

They’ll save you. Your father has no doubt alerted authorities. You’re the most important person in the city tonight! Of course people are looking for you.

Yes, you’ll be saved, the criminals will be punished to the highest extent of the law, and you’ll be escorted back to your hotel where you can take a long, luxurious bath. That’ll be very nice.

You’ll also never visit Gotham again, that is for sure.

The door to the warehouse rolls open with a boom. You flinch and squint, trying to make out the figure. If it’s your kidnapper, you want to act like you’re still asleep. You think you saw that trick in a film at the cinema you snuck out to watch when you were young. You didn’t catch the whole film, though—you were found out by your guards before you could. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d watched the whole film!

As the figure gets closer, you realize firstly that he’s a lot bigger than your kidnappers. You sigh in relief. Batman.

“‘Lo?” asks a gruff voice. “Anybody here?”

You shout through your gag. You can’t make out a face, but it’s alright. Relief floods you. You’re saved.

Your savior jogs to you. You tilt your head as you make out a… red helmet? With glowing eyes?

Wait a minute.

“Holy shit,” Not-Batman says. He pulls out your gag first. “Y’okay?”

Realization strikes you; you recall a story one of the party guests shared earlier in the night about a crime lord and his terror on Gotham.

"You're that terrible gangster that left a duffle bag of heads!" you blurt.

"In the flesh," he says, tapping the barrel of his gun to his helmet in a salute. Red Hood. “You don’t look very happy to see me, all things considered.”

“I don’t want your help!” you say, wriggling away from him. “I’m in an alliance with The Batman!”

He tilts his head. “‘S that so? What alliance would that be? Beauty Pageant Runaways For Bats?”

“I am not a beauty pageant contestant,” you say hotly. “I am a princess, and I have a small militia looking for me.”

He kneels in front of you, holstering his gun. His one of many, many guns. Your skin itches with sweat and adrenaline as he approaches. Those glowing eyes in his helmet flip your stomach. This is all wrong. You're supposed to be saved by a hero, not an outlaw. A criminal.

“Princess, huh?” Hood nods. “Ah, yeah. I heard somethin’ about that. They took you from the Plaza. Just my luck that I’d run into ya.”

“You mean, you weren’t actively looking for me?” you ask in a small voice.

“Nope. You’ve got every vigilante and cop in the city looking for you, Your Highness. I came in here ‘cause I smelled motor oil.”

Now that he’s found you, what does he plan to do?

“Are… are you going to release me?” you ask.

“Depends. Is this place rigged to blow?”

“My dress,” you say, unsure whether you should let him know about the explosives. A man who leaves severed heads in a duffel bag doesn’t seem wrapped up too tightly.

“Hm?” Hood lifts your skirt slightly. He whistles. “Damn. This is some excellent work. Whoever did this is a pro demolitions expert.”

His praise doesn’t comfort you, oddly enough.

“Is it live?” you ask.

“Doesn’t look like it. And I’ve got a lot of experience with explosives. Just stay still for now.”

Hood squats and pulls out a knife. You shift. He's bigger than you even like this, crouched at your level. His shoulders nearly block your entire view.

“Who were they?” he asks.

“Who was who?”

“The people that took you.”

“I don't know. They were wearing masks. Three men,” you say, frozen as he takes the knife to your feet.

“Mm.”

Hood begins to cut the ropes around your ankles. You delicately point your feet, unsure if he'll slip and get you.

Your lip curls. "Where's Batman? Or that boy who works with him? Aren't they in charge of this city? I want to speak to one of them."

“I don’t work for the Bats,” he says, an edge to his words.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable with you rescuing me,” you say. “You’re a criminal.”

Hood stops cutting and looks at you. "Y'want Batman? Fine. I don't mind letting you wait around for the Bat.”

He pockets the knife and rises, walking out of the warehouse and disappearing. Just like that. Your heart jumps.

"Wait!" you shout, squirming in your binds. "Wait, come back!"

But it's silent. Panic digs its claws into your chest.

"Red Hood! Red Hood, come back! Please!"

You begin to cry out of desperation, tears dripping onto your already soiled dress. You try to pull your feet apart, but the rope isn't cut enough and all you do is worsen the burns around your ankles.

You bow your head and cry onto the floor. You just want to go home. You want your goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton ten-thousand thread count sheets. More than that, you never want to return to this stupid city.

"Are you cryin'?"

Your head shoots up. Hood stands over you, arms folded.

"You-you came back," you say, voice wobbly.

He shrugs. "I had an inkling that you had a change of heart, princess.”

You look away. "You left me.”

"I did,” he says. “But as much as you might deserve abandonment, I'm duty-bound to rescue everyone. No matter how obnoxious of a Batman fan they are."

"I'm not a fan. I just didn't want the morally corrupt, violent drug runner to save me."

He leans down and snaps away the ropes from your ankles—a feat of strength that doesn't go unnoticed. Then he saws the ones around your wrists. "Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore, and for such a pretty face, you suck at sweet talking."

He tosses the rope aside and pockets the knife. You rub your wrists and attempt to sit up. This time, you don’t want to throw up. Success!

“Anything hurt?” he asks.

“My legs,” you say miserably.

“Okay, let me rephrase: anything that'll make you bleed out in the next ten seconds?”

“Um… no.”

“Fantastic. I can probably getcha back to your hotel in an hour.”

You hold out your arms expectantly. He tuts.

“I don’t give hugs until the third kidnapping. Fourth one is free.”

You huff. “You expect me to walk like this? They took my shoes! Gotham is so uncouth.”

“And what am I s’posed to do about that?” Hood asks. “I look like a Payless to you?”

“I don’t know what that is,” you say. “Don’t you vigilantes have a protocol to follow? I cannot possibly walk through this filthy warehouse on my bare feet. I’ll catch a virus! You’ll have to carry me.”

Hood lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s somewhat eerie through his modulator. You lift your chin, maintaining your composure.

“Oh my God! Highness, you’re a diamond-encrusted piece of work. I don’t carry anybody unless they’re unconscious and I like ‘em a lot. It’s a short list.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m a guest in your city, and I’ve been kidnapped! The least you can do—”

“The least I can do is leave you to rot here,” Hood says, tone cutting. “Or let your kidnappers come back and finish the job. You aren’t in whatever palace they carted you out of; you’re in fuckin’ Gotham, and if y’want my help, you’re gonna suck it up and walk.”

You look away, tears brimming once more. You sniffle.

“You don't have to be so mean,” you say, voice watery. “I’ve had a difficult night.”

It's quiet for a few moments. You've never cried as much as you have tonight, especially not in front of a stranger. A dangerous stranger.

“...Look, I think I got some spare boots,” Hood finally says. “Stay here.”

“Where would I go?” you mumble. Whether he hears you or not, he doesn’t reply, stalking out of the warehouse. He returns thirty seconds later with a pair of ugly, black, man boots.

“Used?!” you ask, voice high.

“Lightly, Your Majesty. They’re my spares. Here.”

Hood tosses the boots at you. You stare at them like he’s flung a pair of rats at you. He taps his wrist.

“Time’s a-ticking, princess. I’m on a schedule. I can always let you wait for Batman. He’ll find ya. Eventually.”

So you put on the boots.

You attempt to stand next, but the drugs and binds have made your limbs weak. You try and fail to get up twice before Hood hooks his arms under yours and hauls you up without a sweat. You squeal, fingers digging into his brown leather jacket.

He towers over you, doubly intimidating now that you're standing.

“Got it?” he asks, arms slipping away.

You definitely don’t have it, and you wobble backward. Hood grabs you again, hand on your back.

“Whoa. Easy.” Hood cups your face, a little rough. You squirm, mind flooded with all the germs that are probably on his gloves. “Look a'me. Look—stop fighting, Jesus Christ.”

“This is no way to treat a princess!”

“Yeah, I missed that day of training,” he says dryly. “Stay still, I'm tryna see if your pupils are dilated.”

“Your grip hurts!”

Hood loosens his grip and manages to keep you still long enough to examine your eyes. He hums and lets go.

“Seems like you’re still feeling the effects. Should wear off soon. Now…”

Hood steps back, but not so far that you can’t grab onto him should you fall again. He gives your dress a onceover.

“So that’s not gonna work.” He takes out his knife again. Your eyes widen.

“What on earth are you doing with that?” you ask, taking a small step backwards.

“Cutting your dress,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

You gasp, backing away. “No you will not!”

“Princess—”

“This dress is one-of-a-kind, handmade for tonight’s gala. You’re not going near it! It cost seventeen thousand euros!”

“Is it worth more than your life?” Hood snaps. “I don’t have any spare clothes and I’m not dragging a ballgown with three pounds of C-4 attached to it around. You have to be able to move and you have to get on my bike. Now quit whining.”

You sulk as he cuts and tears the bottom layer of your gown. He isn’t as savage about it as you expect: the cut is neat and could even be salvaged in the hands of a good seamstress. The night air makes your legs prickle with goosebumps. Then his words register.

“Bike?” you ask as Hood sets your dress remains aside. You’ll grieve for your dress privately.

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you had a Batmobile.”

“That’s Batman’s car. Hence the name. I have a bike ‘cause I’m a morally corrupt, violent, drug runner.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can’t we take a taxi? Or call a car service?”

Hood snorts. “No one’s driving to this part of Gotham at this hour. It’s my bike or nothing. Or, of course, you can wait for Batsy.”

He starts walking and you hurry to follow. Hood’s strides are long and you’re unsteady in his too-big boots.

“Can you please slow down? These boots are enormous!”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does slow down, waiting until you catch up before leading you to his bike. It’s a nice motorcycle, you suppose, if you were into that thing. You’ve always thought motorcycles were a stupid risk to take. Being on the road is dangerous enough—why remove the comfort and protection of a car?

Hood’s bike is shiny and cherry red, just like his helmet. He produces a proper motorcycle helmet from nowhere and hands it to you.

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask, inspecting the helmet. It looks fairly clean and unused.

“Hasn’t killed me yet, and I’ve been dead once.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

“You’ll be fine,” Hood says at your silence. “I’ll go slow.”

“Alright,” you say, putting on the helmet. It smells oddly pleasant, like spicy cologne. “Very slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, very slow. C’mon.”

Hood kicks a leg over the bike and straddles it, all muscle memory. His muscles flex as he bends his legs. He pats the space behind him.

Cautiously, you attempt to do the same, but you soon realize that doing that exact move in a dress is probably not the smartest. You hold onto the seat with both hands instead and clumsily try to fold a leg over. It doesn’t work.

“Yo, Bambi. This century would be good.”

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle!” you say, glaring at the back of his helmet. “You could help me.”

“For fuck's—”

Hood turns around, grabs the back of your calf, and pulls. Your legs part and you shriek, certain you’re about to flash him. He holds your waist as you flail so that you don’t bang into him as you sit.

“What is wrong with you?” you hiss, smoothing down your dress.

“Re-lax, I didn’t see anything.”

“This is highly undignified—”

“Yeah, we don't really do dignified in Gotham, princess. Comfy?”

“No.”

“Mm. Hold my waist.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all ya want.” Hood takes your arms and wraps them tightly around his waist. He’s warm and, oddly enough, soft despite his bulk. “You’re drugged and unsteady. If y’don’t hold on, you’re gonna fly off. Press up against me and hold tight.”

“Go slow,” you say again, obediently holding his waist.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow,” he says.

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

Hood turns the ignition. The bike roars to life, louder than you expected. You suck in a breath as he revs the engine and starts off.

True to his word (and what a flimsy word it is), Hood goes slow. He takes gentle, easy turns and breaks at all the stop signs, even though this part of the city is essentially abandoned at this hour. You’re able to study the streets, twinkling streetlights a little too bright to your recovering eyes. But you look anyway, shocked at the dilapidated buildings and uneven pavement. You’re definitely not in the Gotham you were earlier tonight. It hardly looks like the same city.

You turn your attention to your savior. It feels like an odd word to use for the Red Hood, whom you’ve heard enough about tonight. Your father had warned you excessively about what a dangerous area this was, and who exactly made it so dangerous.

But a savior is exactly what Hood has been to you. You decide that, despite his roughness, he still deserves a good reward. Perhaps a Hoodmobile. Or new boots.

Your rescue is going smoothly until you cross the bridge. That’s when another biker turns onto the road behind you.

“Shit,” Hood says, and you’re startled that you can hear him so clearly despite the noise. It’s like he’s in your head. “We’re being tailed.”

Well, that’s not good. You turn around briefly but you can’t make out your follower; you’re too scared to move on the bike.

But then you hear the bike behind you speed up.

“Motherfucker,” Hood says, and speeds up. Your arms tighten into a death grip.

“Hold on,” he says, like you'd do anything otherwise.

Hood speeds up and takes a sharp left turn. You tense and yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. He takes several winding turns and you keep your eyes shut through all of them. The nausea has returned and you’d prefer not to ruin the inside of his helmet with your stomach contents.

“We lose him?” he asks when the road levels off and it doesn’t feel so much like you’re on a rollercoaster.

“Um…” you begin, and chance turning around.

It’s clear for a few seconds until…

Well, to echo Hood’s sentiment: motherfucker.

“He’s there!” you yell, and Hood growls.

“The helmets are mic’d, you don’t have to shout,” he says, leaning into a left turn.

“I see him!” you say, and grab one of Hood’s holstered guns. He scrambles to grab it but misses, surprise slowing him down.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

You ignore him and take off the safety. Moving your free arm up to Hood’s neck, you fire. He curses up a storm, throwing in a few words you’ve never even heard.

The shots go wide; one dents a parked car, and one hits a stop sign.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Hood yells and snatches the gun out of your hand.

But your tail falls back, evidently spooked enough by you and your poor aim. He turns on a side street and disappears.

“He’s gone! We’ve lost him!” you say happily.

“Are you insane?”

You wince at his volume. “The helmets are mic’d, you know.”

“You’re so—”

Hood cuts himself off and pulls sharply onto the sidewalk. He dismounts and pushes the kickstand down hard. Then he turns to you, chest heaving.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you ask, putting out your arms. “We lost him!”

“No, we didn’t. All we did was throw him off our trail a little. We gotta walk the rest of the way now because he probably fell back to get more guys to follow us. But that’s not the point: what you did was insanely risky and stupid. You don’t know how to use a gun and you could’ve hurt yourself.”

You stay silent, chewing on his words. Hood isn’t wrong, he’s just… loud about it.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps.

You don't reply.

“I need a yes.”

“...I wanted to help.”

Hood sighs. “Yeah, well… just don’t. I’m good at what I do and I’ll get you back in one piece. But you gotta trust me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You feel small, but you don't want to cry in front of him again and confirm that you really are just a spoiled, whiny princess. “I'm sorry, Red Hood.”

You sit down on the curb, feeling exhausted. Tonight is awful.

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Hood says, “Don't cry.”

Your jaw works as you swallow hard. “I'm not.” You turn your head so he won't see.

“Christ on toast,” he mumbles above you. “This is exactly why I don't do rescue missions—”

You sniffle. “I'm not crying.”

“—’Cause I'm the world's biggest asshole,” he finishes, voice miles softer.

Hood sinks onto the curb next to you. He scoots in just enough so that your shoulders brush against each other.

“Look, ‘m a jerk. The Bats are better at handling civilians and being nice. You got the potty mouth with a bad attitude.”

You rub your eyes. “I don't like yelling.”

“Yeah,” Hood says quietly. “Okay. I'll try not to yell unless you're in immediate danger. But you can’t pull stunts like that. Deal?”

You nod. “I won't fire any more of your guns.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Where’d you learn how to shoot, anyway? I mean, y’didn’t do it well, but you did it. Not half-bad for your first time in Gotham.”

“My father wanted me to learn gun sports,” you say. “I learned how to take the safety off and point and shoot, but I refused to do any more lessons after my instructor shot a duck for target practice. I think guns are uncivilized and destructive, and I don’t condone killing animals for sport.”

“Uncivilized unless you're getting tailed by kidnappers?” You think you detect a smile in his question.

“Everything has its exceptions,” you say primly.

“Ain't that the truth. C'mon, we should get moving. We're, ‘scuse the saying, sitting ducks out here.”

Hood stands first and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. He does that so easily. It makes your spine tingle.

“How far are we from my hotel?” you ask.

“‘Bout two miles. If I had my gear I'd call for an assist,” he says apologetically. “Wasn’t planning to save lost princesses tonight.”

“I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll carry me, is there?”

“Pretty and funny,” Hood says. “You're the whole package, beauty queen.”

Your snarky reply is cut off by your stomach growling. Your eyes widen.

“Pardon me,” you say, mortified.

“What, ‘cause you're hungry?” Hood asks. “‘S a normal human condition.”

“You don't know anything about royal manners,” you say, but you're relieved. Your father would give you a tight, deadly look if you were hungry in public.

“No, I really don't. Born and bred Gotham, baby.”

“Showing any signs of hunger or thirst around company is highly undignified,” you say.

“Being a princess sounds exhausting.”

No arguments there.

Hood starts walking. You scramble to follow, and he seems to remember your shorter stride and slows down.

“There's a pretty decent 7-Eleven nearby,” he says. “I'd take ya to my favorite diner, but we're on a tight schedule. Those guys won’t be far behind.”

“A seven and eleven? Oh, I've heard of those!” you say.

“I’m… glad you're so excited about convenience stores?”

“I saw it in a film once. My father didn’t catch me watching this one. It looked so rugged, eating in a convenience store and fighting crime afterward. I've never been to one.”

“I know I shouldn't be surprised considering how much your dress cost but it does kinda blow my mind that you've never tasted anything but the finest cuisine,” Hood says. “Wait, did you say your dad didn’t catch you?”

You hum. “He doesn’t like me watching films that aren’t pre-approved.”

“Wow. Y’know, I could pirate you some movies if y’want. I know a great website for it.”

You laugh. “That’s alright. I manage to sneak out to the cinema more than I used to, now that he’s older.”

“Pretty sneaky, beauty queen.” He sounds impressed.

You shrug, trying to hide your pride. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

You turn on the corner and he leads you through a residential area. A few people outside of their apartments stare at you, but when they see Hood, they relax.

“Red!” a little boy shouts from a fire escape. He waves excitedly. Hood waves back.

“Hope you’re listening to your ma,” Hood calls to him, mock-stern. To anyone else—to you—it would be unnerving.

But the boy grins. “I am!”

“Then why aren't ya in bed, huh?”

The boy shrugs. “Not tired. Who's the lady?”

“The lady is a princess, so be nice,” Hood says.

“Whoa!” The boy gapes at you. You wave at him and he jumps up from the window.

“Mom!” he yells. “Red Hood found a princess!”

You giggle as Hood leads you away.

He shakes his head. “Kids.” He sounds terribly fond.

You stare at his back for a moment.

“They like you,” you say. “You keep them safe. But you're also a friend.”

“Helps to earn their trust,” he says gruffly.

You walk a little more in silence.

“I was wrong about you, Hood,” you say. He doesn't look at you.

“Lotta people are. Nothin’ new.”

No, it probably isn't.

“‘Kay, here we are. C’mon. We gotta be fast, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, following him into the 7-Eleven.

“Hey, Benny,” Hood says to the tired cashier behind the counter.

Benny nods. “Long night?”

“You got no idea.” He gestures to you. “She’s a princess.”

“Sweet,” Benny says. “What’s up?”

“How do you do?” you say politely.

Hood leads you to the rolling hot dogs and other cylindrical foods under the heat lamps. You frown.

“I have had a hot dog before,” you say. “I’m not that sheltered.”

“Yeah, but have ya had a buffalo ranch roller? My brother and I used to get these after patrol. That with a blue raspberry slushie? Heavenly after getting thrown into a dumpster.”

“Well, you’ve gotten me this far, so I suppose I’ll trust you,” you say.

“I’m flattered. Benny, my usual.”

Benny gives a thumbs-up and puts the ‘roller’ in a paper bag. Meanwhile, Hood takes you to the back where the slushie machine is. You watch as he fills a plastic cup with electric blue sludge. Your brows raise.

“Why is it that color?” you ask.

“Tasty chemicals,” Hood says cheerily. “It won’t kill ya, I promise.”

“That would be counterintuitive at this point,” you say.

“I appreciate your faith in me, princess.”

You return to Benny, who rings up the food. “Five twenty-seven.”

Hood looks at you expectantly. You look at him.

“What?” you ask.

“This is the part where you pay,” he says.

“A princess never carries money on her person,” you say, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.

“You–” Hood looks at Benny and sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

He pays and you take your treats, trotting out the door.

“Thank you, kind sir!” you say as Hood waves.

“See ya, Ben.”

You hold out your slushie for Hood to take while you work on your fried goodie.

“I’m not a cupholder,” he says, but he takes the cup anyway.

“It’s warm!” you say, delighted. “Let me take a bite.”

Hood patiently waits as you bite and chew. You hum.

“Good?” he asks.

“I like it,” you say. “It’s unusual. Is this chicken?”

“So they say,” Hood says. “Try the slushie.”

You take the cup and first take a small sip. It’s cold and sweet and slightly sour and probably full of enough sugar to rot your teeth out of your head. You love it.

“This is wonderful,” you say.

He laughs. “Yup. Told ya, nothin’ like this combo. It’s a classic. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You walk and eat, and it definitely improves your night, having something in your belly.

“This is just like Roman Holiday,” you say.

Hood snorts. “I don’t think we watched the same movie.”

“It has a likeness. You’re Gregory Peck.”

“Yeah, sure. If Gregory Peck was a street fighter, then yeah. I’m Greg fuckin’ Peck.”

“No, you’re right. You’re much younger than he was in that movie. How old are you?” you ask.

“Twenty-four.”

“Really? Why are you doing this?”

“Took a career test.”

You bump his shoulder. “Seriously, Hood. You’re young. You’ve so much potential. I can tell that you’re smart.”

“Hence why I do this,” he says.

You tut, shaking your head. “That’s ridiculous. You could do more. Be more.”

“You’re just fulla charm, aren’t ya?” Hood says.

Your next step is hesitant. Hood keeps walking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” you say. “I guess I assumed…”

“Yeah, I know. You assume a lot, princess. And you’re wrong.”

“You made assumptions about me! You thought that I was stupid and naive and I’m not.”

Hood stops, turns. “Maybe I like doing what I do, huh? Ever think of that? I meant it when I said I’m not a criminal anymore. I help people.”

“I know that,” you say quietly. “I see how the citizens treat you. They like you. You care for them greatly. I just… I just meant that you could try new things too. If you wanted to.”

He’s quiet for a bit. You keep walking.

“I didn’t think you were stupid,” he eventually says.

You scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Yeah, I thought you were a little… sheltered. But you’re smart. You’re certainly tougher than your dad gives you credit for.”

You roll your eyes. “He still thinks I’m six years old. It takes me getting kidnapped to see a city.”

“Pretty shitty tour.”

You smile behind his back. “Oh, I don’t know. The tour guide is alright.”

Hood stops. When he doesn’t speak, you approach.

“Hood?”

He suddenly puts a hand over your mouth and drags you backwards into an alleyway. Your yelp is muffled. Hood puts a finger to where his mouth would be under his helmet.

That’s when you hear voices.

“—single fuckin’ clue. She could be in the fuckin’ Atlantic by now. Halfway to China!”

“China’s on the other side, dumbass.”

You look up at Hood, eyes wide.

Those are your kidnappers' voices.

He seems to understand and nods. He squeezes your arm and removes his hand from your mouth. He points to himself and points outside, then points to you and points down.

You assume that means stay put and don’t try to shoot anyone with his gun. You can take a hint.

Hood slinks out of the alley. You peek your head out to look, curiosity overtaking fear. Besides, you trust Hood. You figure with a reputation like his, he can more than handle his own.

“Nice night, ain’t it?” he says.

The two men turn, looking close to pissing themselves. Good.

“Hood, we weren’t doing nothin’!” one says.

“Yeah, Ricky and I are clean!”

“Oh, really? So you had nothing to do with the kidnapping of a certain visiting princess.”

“We was nowhere near the Plaza!” Ricky cries.

The other elbows his friend. Before you can blink, Hood has them both down on the ground, pistols pointed at their necks.

“You were gonna hurt her,” Hood says, and now there’s no trace of humor in his voice. “That poor, sweet princess. Strapping C-4 to her like a fuckin’ bank vault. Drugging her, tying her up. You fuckin’ animals.”

“It wasn’t our idea, it was Bobby’s!” Ricky cries.

“Shut up, Ricky!”

A shot rings out and you flinch. Ricky starts sobbing. Red seeps from his leg.

“The only reason I’m not killing you two right now is because I want a word with your boss. But make no mistake.” Hood leans in. “You’ll pay for hurting the princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

With two final hits, Hood knocks them out cold. The sudden silence is loud.

He looks at you then, those eerie eyes glowing. He beckons you out. You go.

You look down at the unconscious bodies. “You don’t have to kill them.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. You shouldn’t have that on your conscience.”

“They kidnapped you. They would’ve hurt you had their boss ordered it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t want you to bear that burden, Hood.”

“‘S not a burden,” he says, gently taking your wrist. Your eyes fly open. “If it’ll make you feel better, safer, anything. It’s no burden.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, frightened at how pleased a part of you is at his words.

“I’ll tie ‘em up and send for ‘em when we get back. One second.”

You watch as Hood drags their bodies into the alley like they’re sacks of feathers. He handcuffs them to a drainpipe and ties their feet and gags them.

“So they can see what it feels like,” Hood says, dusting his hands. You can’t help your small smile.

“Ready?” he asks.

You look up at the starless sky, suddenly exhausted. Your limbs feel like lead. “I guess so.”

Hood looks into the distance, then back at you. He sighs.

“Climb on my back.”

You blink. “Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” Hood shrugs. “I can tell you’re tired. We don’t have far to go.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask. “All that way…”

“Princess, I’m honestly offended. I once carried Batman and my brother to Bludhaven. I’m more than capable.”

“But what about your rule?” you ask. “About carrying people.”

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he says. “Get on ‘fore I change my mind.”

So you climb onto Hood’s back. He secures you easily, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t choke me out,” he says. “Otherwise we’re both goin’ down.”

You smile and relax on his back. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

At first, it feels like an eternity, waiting for the familiar Plaza sign. You can’t complain, though: Hood is warm and being carried by him is even better than riding on his bike.

You blink, startled at the thought. What are you even talking about? This is the Red Hood. You were terrified of him a few hours ago.

And yet, the rhythmic bumping and Hood’s solid figure lulls you to sleep. You don’t even realize until you’re being nudged and a voice pulls you back to consciousness.

“Hey.”

You’re gently jostled awake. You blink blearily, yawning into Hood’s shoulder.

Oh. Right. You’re on his back.

“Hm?”

“Ride ends here,” he says. “We’re at the Plaza.”

“Oh.” Sleepily, you try to climb off. Hood sets you on your feet. Embarrassment fills you as you become more awake.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You could’ve woken me! I—”

Hood holds up a hand. “Hey, chill out. ‘S fine. You had a long night, I get it.”

“Right. I, um…” You look up at the hotel. The top floor windows disappear in the layer of fog that’s settled over the city. You wonder what Hood’s windows look like.

“I’m gonna track down your main kidnapper and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll kick his ass, at the very least.”

You look at Hood, blinking. “Oh. That’s very nice of you, thank you.”

He shrugs. “‘S my job.”

You nod clumsily. “Right, of course. I could give you something in return, though. Money or, um, firearms. A car, perhaps?”

He snorts. You smile shyly.

“Cute,” he says, but he’s not being mean. “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty set, actually. Doing what I do is surprisingly lucrative.”

“Surely there’s something—”

“Seriously, princess, no charge.”

You bite your lip. Is this too bold? Yes, definitely.

“What about a kiss?”

At first, you think Hood hasn’t heard you. Then he turns to face you in a way that tells you no, he definitely heard you.

“Ex-cuse me?”

“Um.” You scratch your neck. “Well, princesses kiss their knights goodbye, don’t they?” you ask, but it’s weak. It’s stupid. You’re so young.

You think he’s going to just walk away. That would be the kindest thing to do in response to your blunder.

“I’m sorry, forgive me. That was a terrible joke,” you blurt.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He steps forward, close enough to kiss you if he didn’t have the helmet. You look up at him, heart pounding.

“Wasn’t terrible or wasn’t a joke?” you ask, blood roaring in your ears.

Hood’s quiet.

“Haven’t done much kissing, to be honest with ya,” he finally says, not answering your question.

You shake your head. “Nor I.”

“Mm. And y’wanna kiss me? Don’t offer ‘cause you think you owe me.”

“I want to kiss you, Hood.”

He tilts his head. “Y’wouldn’t be kissing a knight. More like kissing a toad.”

You frown. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m no Greg Peck. And I’m no hero either.”

“Do you give this speech to everyone who wants to kiss you?”

“You’re the first one who’s wanted to,” he says.

You inhale sharply. “Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

You wait. He waits. You both wait for the other to back out. You don’t. Neither does he.

“Can’t believe a princess wants to kiss me,” he mumbles.

And then he covers your eyes with his hand.

You blink, lashes sweeping over his glove. You hear a click, then a hiss of air. His helmet hits the ground with a dull thud.

Hood gingerly holds your chin with his free hand. You keep your eyes closed even though he’s covering them, out of respect.

His mouth is warm and so, so gentle. You barely feel his lips at first, so you press a little harder. Hood doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, resting it on yours, so you take the lead, following what you’ve seen others do and what you’ve watched on television.

You reach up and hold his face. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You stroke his stubbled jaw, feel strong cheekbones and the ends of curls above his ears.

“Your Highness? Your Highness!”

The hand leaves your face so quickly, your eyes stay closed for a second longer, slow to react. Then you open your eyes and see the empty street.

Your lips tingle with heat. It’s all noise around you, policemen and your guards flitting around you, asking questions, alarmed by your torn dress.

You exhale, disappointment overtaking you.

Your father is in front of you, taking your wrists. “Can you hear me? Doctor, I need a—”

“I’m fine,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m alright, Father.”

He exhales and pulls you into a hug. It startles you. He pulls away before you can hug him back.

“I am so glad you’re alright,” he says. “The police say they saw a figure with you. Who was that? Was he your kidnapper?”

“No, not at all,” you say, staring out into the street beyond. Your lips are buzzing. “He was my hero.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd imagine #princess reader

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alfascorpiionux · 13 days ago

Text

Astro notes ~ part 2

Venus in Aries women tend to be called not feminine enough and could be criticised for the way they move or speak. “Not feminine enough” is something they likely heard at least a few times.

Earth Ascendants tend to put too much pressure on themselves and value responsibility. They may come off as cold and unapproachable without meaning too. They dislike or look down on chaotic and unreliable people.

Sun in Pisces are some of the most trustworthy and kind people I’ve ever met. They are sensible, thoughtful and make great friends.

Sun in Aquarius could be both clingy and distant. It really depends on the person in question and their current emotional well-being. They are known to struggle with recognising or processing their own feelings. The higher manifestation of this placement might actually spend more time by themselves as they realise this is what they truly need or they might just become more independent in general. It’s a funny thing with Aquarius. It’s when they are most chill and just doing their own thing that they attract the most attention. If they try too hard to keep a relationship, they almost always lose it. It mostly could be related to a shaky self of self-identity.

Saturn in 3rd house could bring difficulties in communication. Either you stumble over your words, speak too much or too little or just feel like you cannot find common conversation topics with other people. You are responsible, sometimes to your detriment, as it could lead to a false sense of expectation of what other people should do or be like. You love deeply and have a few select people you pour all your love into and would do anything for. Could mean you are a little rigid and definitely don’t like sharing personal stuff.

Moon in Capricorn: when will you stop denying and over-rationalising your own feelings? Being vulnerable and expressing your feelings is not a weakness as society seems to want to teach us. It takes an enormous amount of courage and strength. It’s about being your authentic self with all of its gifts and imperfections. It will not make you exploitable or create unnecessary drama/conflict. But rather it will open your eyes to truths that may currently be hidden from you. In any relationship, especially personal, emotional compatibility is essential. If you keep being polite and inauthentic you’ll never feel truly fulfilled or find the people who are right for you.

Also, stop being so hard on yourself for every little detail. Allowing yourself to relax and take a break once in a while is important for your mental, emotional and physical well-being. It may also enable you to see different situations more clearly.

Mercury in Virgo: you are amazingly patient and definitely notice the “smaller print”. You might be good at making diagrams, charts, tables. You probably don’t make mistakes when doing calculations and might have a real affinity for the exact sciences. You know how to explain things in simple, concrete and very understandable terms. You know lots of things and are very willing to share them with others. Careful not to come off as a know-it-all and watch out for your nit-picking tendencies.

Neptune in 1st house: is actually a quite interesting placement. People probably tend to project on you a lot. They might have completely false ideas about you and believe them with conviction even when you consistently convince them otherwise. Be very attentive of those you surround yourself with! Sometimes the kindest acts hide the darkest pits of hell.

This placement gives a charming, sometimes ethereal appearance to the individual. There is a charming quality to the way you carry yourself, the manner in which you express your ideas. People could have hidden fantasies about you or idolise you.

Sagittarius Ascendant: talkative, sort of daring personality. If you don’t have many friends, the then you at least have a large circle of acquaintances. You like expressing your ideas, sometimes just to stir the waters. You’re up for fun and spontaneous activities. You like creative people. In social settings you tend to “fly” from one group of people to another as you enjoy exchanging news, ideas, impressions with other people. You may not understand why some earth ascendants like keeping silent. It’s not that they don’t want to talk to you or are angry with you, social situations probably stress them out and they don’t like having their routine interrupted. That’s something to take into consideration.

Also, try not arguing with people just for the sake of proving your point every time. Choose your battles wisely.

Gemini Ascendants: are the real masters of social situations. It’s not mentioned nearly enough just how good they can be at picking up on social cues. They might wisely not show it or even mention it later on, but you can be damn sure they didn’t miss a thing. Also, they are very flexible/adaptable communication wise. If you have a more subdued way of communication they’ll talk more softly and encouragingly. If you are loud and enthusiastic they will try appearing that way as well.

They pick up on the vibes of a room: main relationships between people, primary personality traits, attitudes, if someone has social anxiety etc. They probably also know about secret enemies and crushes but will pretend not to.

Look out for mind games and subtle shows of cunning from them. For example: if you are a heterosexual woman having a secret crush on a heterosexual man and he picks up on it, they might subtly do something to make you feel jealous. Or more blatantly. They could talk to almost every other woman in the classroom but ignore you. Or start talking very pleasantly with you girl friend while you are around etc.

I like associating this placement with the Scandinavian God, Loki, the trickster. They are definitely the type of people that test both the spirit and composure of others. Not always, but there is this tendency, without a doubt.

They might also subtly look down on those who are shy/find it hard to express themselves.

Moon in 8th house never truly gets over a crush. They don’t fall in love easily but once they do you’ll forever remain in their heart. If you leave never to meet them again then you’ll be one of the spirits in the “graveyard” of their souls, ever present and never to be completely forgotten. They are people who are authentic and love with incredible depth and intensity. Once you become their person, they would do anything to make you feel understood and loved. Could have difficulties letting go or accepting rejection.

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 22 days ago

Text

Special Delivery

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, possessive Simon, arguments, annoyance (spouse and nonspouse annoyance)

Author’s Note: Simon forgot some stuff at home, you are a firecracker if anyone has ever seen one so here we are. Inspired by one of my favs @bi-writes and her younger!wife x John Price fic

Masterlist | Bi’s Fanfic

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It starts with a text.

My Ghostie: Forgot my wallet.

Then another.

My Ghostie: And my lunch.

And another.

My Ghostie: ...And the file on my desk.

You stare at your phone, lips pressing into a flat line. Unbelievable. You love your husband, truly, but some days? Some days he tests your patience.

With a sigh, you gather everything—his wallet, his carefully packed lunch, and the stupid file he swore he wouldn’t forget—before grabbing your keys. You could ignore it, let him suffer, but you both know you won’t.

Which is how you find yourself at the base entrance, staring down a soldier who looks entirely unimpressed with your existence. Arms crossed, legs planted apart, like he’s guarding the last bastion of civilization.

“I can’t just let you in, ma’am.” His voice is flat, bored, like this is the most mundane problem he’s dealt with all day.

You, on the other hand, are vibrating with irritation. “Look,” you huff, adjusting the duffel bag on your shoulder and waving the brown paper lunch bag in your other hand. “I’m not some crazy stalker trying to infiltrate your little clubhouse. My husband, Simon Riley, left his wallet, his lunch, and some other important stuff at home, and I’m just here to drop it off.”

The guard doesn’t budge. “Can’t confirm that without proper clearance.”

Your patience is wearing thin. You exhale sharply, then, with slow, deliberate movements, hold up a very distinct leather wallet between two fingers and shake it slightly. “Alright, genius, let’s use some logic. If I wasn’t supposed to be here, do you think I’d just so happen to have Ghost’s actual shit?”

The man hesitates, clearly uncertain. “That… that could belong to anyone—”

“Oh my God,” you groan, resisting the urge to fling the wallet at him. “If I was trying to sneak onto base, don’t you think I’d pick something a little less obvious?”

You go in for the kill. Flipping open the wallet, you shove it right into his face. “Does that look like just anyone to you?”

The poor bastard leans in, eyes locking onto the ID tucked inside. His face blanches.

It’s right there. Simon’s name. Simon’s face. Your husband’s face.

“…I mean, I still can’t—”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alright, listen here, Private Dumbass.” You shift your stance, letting the overhead lights catch the big-ass rock sitting pretty on your ring finger. You tap it against the metal of the gate for good measure. *Clink, clink.* “See this? This means I can make your life very difficult.”

The man stiffens. You decide to twist the knife. “I may not have rank here, but I am married to a lieutenant. And if you don’t let me through in the next ten seconds, I will personally make it my mission to have you running laps around this base until your legs fall off.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “You… you can’t do that.”

You smirk. “You sure about that? ’Cause my husband definitely can.”

That does it. With a sigh, he gestures for another soldier to let you through. “Fine, fine. Go.”

“Damn right,” you mutter, marching past him with your head held high.

Smart man.

——

After waiting at the gate for so long, you storm onto the base with a paper bag in one hand and a duffel slung over your shoulder, exuding confidence as your boots click against the concrete. The guards barely had time to stop you before a sharp-tongued remark had them stepping aside, unsure if they were more intimidated by your presence or impressed by your sheer audacity.

Simon’s dumbass forgot his lunch, his wallet, and a few other essentials, and you’ll be damned if he goes without just because he’s too stubborn to admit he needs you. He might be the terrifying "Ghost" to everyone else, but to you, he’s just your husband—the same man who forgets his keys and leaves his socks all over the damn house.

Walking into the common area is like stepping into a lion’s den—if lions had the audacity to gawk at you like a bunch of wide-eyed recruits seeing their drill sergeant off duty for the first time. A few soldiers are loitering, some cleaning their gear, others playing cards, but the moment they spot you, their focus shifts. You can practically hear their thoughts.

Who the hell is this?

Why does she look like she owns the place?

Did we miss a briefing?

The most unsubtle reaction comes from a particularly cheeky Scot lounging with his feet kicked up on a chair.

“Well, now,” Soap drawls, an impish grin spreading across his face. “And who might you be?”

You don’t bother stopping. “Not in the mood, Braveheart. Where’s Simon?”

Soap lets out a low whistle. “Oi, no need to be feisty, lass. Maybe if ye tell me who ye are, I can help.”

You sigh, shift the duffel on your shoulder, and lift your left hand just enough for the overhead light to catch on the massive wedding ring decorating your finger.

“His wife.”

The room goes silent.

Soap’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. His mouth opens, closes, then—“No shit.”

“No shit,” you confirm dryly. “And unless you lot want to deal with a grumpy, starving Ghost, you’ll tell me where he is. Now.”

Before anyone can answer, a deep, familiar voice rumbles through the space.

“Don’t need to.”

The effect is instant. The tension in the room shifts as every soldier in the vicinity straightens instinctively.

You turn just as Simon strides in, the mask covering his face doing nothing to hide the sheer command he carries with every step. He looks at you, and even though his expression is unreadable, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“The hell are you doin’ here?”

You plant a hand on your hip, tilting your chin up. “Bringing you your shit.” You shove the paper bag into his chest before shrugging the duffel off your shoulder and letting it drop at his feet. “Your lunch. Your wallet. And the file you swore up and down you wouldn’t forget.”

Simon catches everything with practiced ease, his gaze dropping briefly to the items before flicking back to you. “…I would’ve managed.”

You snort. “Yeah? And by ‘managed,’ you mean sulking around all day, hangry as hell, making everyone else suffer for it?”

A muffled snicker comes from Soap. Simon’s head *slowly* turns toward him. The room collectively holds its breath.

Soap lifts his hands innocently. “What? She’s got a point.”

You smirk, smug. “See? Even he agrees with me.”

Simon exhales sharply, a sound you know is the closest thing to a fond sigh. Then, before you can react, he hooks a hand around your waist and tugs you in, pressing your body flush against his. It’s firm, grounding, and entirely possessive. His fingers spread wide over the small of your back, holding you there like he’s making sure you’re real.

“You shouldn’t’ve come all this way,” he mutters, voice softer now.

“You love when I show up unannounced.”

His grip tightens slightly. You know you’ve won. His hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer if that was possible. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding you in a sense. You tilt your head up at him, grinning. “Besides, I know you missed me.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he rumbles, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“And you’re lucky I love your grumpy ass.” You grin up at him, reaching up to brush your fingers over the side of his mask. “Eat your lunch, alright? I made sure it’s still warm.”

A long beat passes before Simon finally responds.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

Soap mutters something under his breath, and Simon growls, “MacTavish, if you don’t shut it—”

But before he can finish, you press a quick kiss to his mask-covered cheek. His grip tightens slightly, and you catch the subtle shift in his stance. Oh yeah, he missed you.

“Well, my work here is done,” you say, stepping back with a playful salute. “Try not to forget anything else next time, yeah?”

Simon grunts, his version of a reluctant thank you. But as you turn to leave, you hear him mutter, “Get home safe, love.”

As you turn to leave, you call to your husband, “Oh, by the way—told the guy at the gate he’s gotta run laps for giving me a hard time. Make sure he actually does it, yeah?”

You shoot him a wink over your shoulder before strutting out, leaving a room full of stunned soldiers—and one very flustered Ghost—behind.

You don’t stay to hear the response, but you do catch the sound of Soap absolutely losing it as you step out the door.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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