#anyway. thank you again for bringing this up anon!!!!!

[tomikashii]

TKDB ghouls and a sleepy reader! One who constantly tired and is sometimes found sleeping even in the most ridiculous of places: sleeping while standing up in the middle of the hallway, or maybe conking out mid conversation and falling onto their shoulder.

tokyo debunker : the ghouls with a sleepy reader !

to anon : hellooooo !!! as someone who is very sleepy irl, i actually have so many ideas for this concept !! so thank you for the request ! ☺️💗 hope you enjoy my writing !!! <33

⚠️ : slight ooc !

frostheim

jin kamurai

he was talking to you about some report thing when he noticed that you fell asleep mid conversation with him.

he sighs, looking over at you STANDING WHILE SLEEPING (he thought he worked you to the bone) he speaks slightly louder, jolting you awake and continued the conversation.

now you are wondering why he hasn't called you over for the past few days as you watch tohma run around in your stead.

tohma ishibashi

“oh whats this ? is our king tiring you out ?” his voice came out from behind, making you jolt awake.

he noticed your sleepy nature, and starts to lecture on how unprofessional you are being. but he actually cares so he would give you lighter workload !

finds it very amusing that you could fall asleep at any moments but a little worried because anything, LITERALLY ANYTHING, can attack you !

kaito fuji

thinks this as a sleeping beauty kind of moment.

when you wake up to him trying to have this “sleeping beauty moment”, he jumps meters away from you.

he tries his best to protect you from anomalies when you go on missions together ! would offer to carry you if you are sleepy but he is too busy screaming his lungs out 😐

lucas errant

he will think you are sick 24/7 and would drag you to mortkranken

when he learns that its just your little quirks, he finds ways around them. if you feel like falling asleep, he is READY FOR YOU

doesn't want you to go on missions without him 😭 when you do anyways, he is ANXIOUSLY waiting for your arrival.

vagastrom

alan mido

noticed how always sleepy you were from the first mission and thought he was wearing you out 🥹 (MY SWEET BOY)

you had to reassure him that you are just a naturally sleepy person, before leaning forward and falling asleep on his forearm when you guys were heading back to darkwick through the galaxy express. now, he is obligated to stand like a tree for the next 10 minutes.

unsure how to wake you up, so he lays his hand on your head. (ME TOO PLEASE ALAN) the next day, he orders you stay in vagastrom with sho, leaving you confused on why. (if you squint hard enough, you will see his red ears)

leo kurosagi

notices your little habit when you fell asleep on his shoulder when he was using your stigma. HE WAS SO SHOCKED THAT HE JUMPED UP OUT OF THE SOFA AND STARTED CURSING

when you unintentionally do it again, he doesn't move you (simp) and lets you sleep there. only moves you when sho or alan comes to find him. but he doesn't get up immediately, he gently lays you down on the sofa and made sure no one wakes you up 🤭 (he does care i fear)

finds it troublesome to bring you on missions but protects you nonetheless (in his own way)

sho haizono

thought he put sleeping drugs on his food when he sees you so sleepy after eating at his food truck. (cue him rapidly checking his food stock and ingredients)

subaru reassured him that you are just sleepy in nature and able to sleep anywhere and anytime. he let out a LAUGH. (he is happy that he didn't commit a crime that you see at clubs)

NEVER LETS YOU RIDE BONNIE. he doesn't want to have to hire ritsu to defend him in court when you fly off his bike on the road.

jabberwock

haru sagara

another one who thought he was wearing you out to be very honest. but did that stop him from asking you to help out in jabberwock ? no. he just gives you the easier tasks.

when he catches you falling asleep after doing a task, he will lightly pat your head and let peekaboo snuggle with you, while draping a blanket over you two. and the cycle repeats.

and maybe, he will join in from time to time, but disappears before you wake up, making you questioning why a spot next to you in the blanket was so warm.

towa otonashi

OH HE LOVES LOVES LOVES this part of you ! the moment he catches you falling asleep, he scoops you in his arms and steals you to jabberwock.

any other person tries to take you away from him gets lightning chasing after him, including the ghouls. your place to rest now is in towa's arms and nowhere else.

has developed another sense on when you are falling asleep because he would randomly appear at times and ready to steal you to jabberwock 😭

ren shiranami

this fact was brought upon to him when you fell asleep on his shoulder during movie nights and he snapped a little, questioning why you were falling asleep during movie nights.

when you shared with him your little quirk, he feels bad but doesn't say much after that. the next time you come over for movie nights, he would play the movie and doesn't say much when you lay on his shoulder. (you can literally feel his body tensing up)

the moment he sees you fast asleep, he lets the movie run as he occasionally glances over his shoulder at you sleeping. (he actually enjoys this more than the movie LOL)

sinostra

taiga hoshibami

found out this quirk of yours when he asked you to sit on his lap at sinostra's casino. doesn't care though, just leave you on his lap as he continued playing. after the round, he simply got up with you in his arms and headed to his room.

when you wake up in his room, he was already holding you down and threatening you to not move.

he could get used to this, as he slides you back on his bed and continued napping, leaving you completely confused.

romeo scorpio lucci

its as if you broke one of his skin care products. he was screaming and yelling, making you jolt awake. (you fell asleep on his shoulder)

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, BB ?!” you just sighed, apologising before exiting romeo's office. (no, he didnt want to chase you away, he wanted you to stay.)

the next time this happens (yes there was a next time), instead of yelling, he gently laid you down on his sofa, shifting himself to give you room to sleep. wakes you up after 20 minutes. (how generous of you, romeo)

ritsu shinjo

he noticed this fact and pieced everything together himself. yes, he finds it a little unprofessional for you to fall asleep mid conversation, but its just how you are. he can't be japan's greatest paralegal if he can't 100% accomedate to his clients needs.

when you fell asleep however, he stops and stare. he sighs as he continues writing the report. (you wake up with him next to you, and his blazer on your body.) “im sitting here for your safety.” he explains. (OKAY RITSU, OKAY 🤭)

finds it concerning that darkwick is still allowing you to go on missions. after a few failed attempts to convince darkwick, he just protects you whenever you go on a mission with him 😭🥺

hotarubi

subaru kagami

he swore you were awake like minutes ago and was flustered at you asleep on the floor of the main room. (he found out from haku about your sleeping quirks)

very cautious around you. he is afraid that if you fall asleep on him, his stigma will activate on you. you reassured him that you are comfortable with him, making him feel a little better (still cautious a lil bit)

so protective of you during missions. he is constantly on his toes around you. first one running towards you when you need help.

haku kusanagi

we all know he was waiting for this moment. this very moment. the moment you fell asleep on his shoulder, you can hear the nat geo wild narrator in a distance “the adolescent male has achieved the sacred shoulder pillow bond. now, he remains perfectly still. he must perserve the moment at all costs—even if his arm perishes in the process.”

HE DID NOT, I REPEAT, HE DID NOT LET HIS MOMENT TO WASTE. he immediately snaps a picture, laying his head on yours before sliding his phone in his pocket.

when you reached your destination, he wakes up first and gently wakes you up. “slept well, princess ?” he teases. HE HOPES, to experience this again. (oh, he will. trust.)

zenji kotodama

actually thought you found him boring and got so sad after that. (NO MY BABY NOOOOOOOO)

when he did found out about your sleepy behaviour, he immediately had a 360% mood switch and started being normal again. (thank you subaru for reassuring him)

like the other ghouls, he worries about your safety so he discreetly made sure that the doll artifact follows behind you guys.

obscuary

edward hart

ANOTHER WHO ENJOYS THIS QUIRK ABOUT YOU !!!!!!!! well.. he enjoys it abit too much actually....

enjoys your body heat, literally making rui stressed out and ask lyca to pry you out of his arms. “have some sympathy, im just an old man.” he sighs, making rui roll his eyes.

watching you sleep at the bar counter when you are doing your homework. he would just slide himself next to you and lay your body against him. (and he kidnaps you to his room)

rui mizuki

he is stressed. stressed at two things. one, at how cute you are fast asleep on the bar counter. and two, stressed that HE CANT SQUISH YOUR CHEEKS. (snaps a photo though)

another ghoul you have to reassure that he isnt wearing you out and you are naturally like this. this lead him to not ask you to help out as much anymore (no, he still does because you are the only one who can talk through lyca 🧍🏻‍♀️)

makes you cocktail concoctions to help you keep awake ! especially on missions, he will whip out a flask and pass it over to you when he caught sight of you being sleepy 🤭

lyca colt

doesn't mind it. but was very alarmed when you fell asleep on his shoulder when you were showing him how to do his homework.

shakes you awake literally. when you explain your sleepy nature, he ofcourse asked if all girls was like this, or is just you. (the explanation takes awhile okay, he is learning)

the next time this has happened, he just lets you be. would even pull his blanket, HIS BLANKIE MIND YOU, on you to keep you warm. (the blanket only covers half your body but he was happy that he was ‘keeping you warm’)

mortkranken

yuri isami

wants to cure your constantly falling asleep and random places. would call you over to mortkranken for random checkups and actually takes note of your odd behaviour.

what made him research so hard ? it was because you fell asleep on his shoulder once and he started yelling like a chimpazee when you offer it prohibited food in the zoo.

he avoided you for days. he thinks you are in love with him. well, until jiro pointed out that it was just one of your quirks. (no he is not upset! he so is LOL)

jiro kirisaki

doesn't really care to be very honest because he is very aware of your condition, especially in missions.

would offer you medical infused ways to keep yourself awake, especially during missions and class.

he probably think its a side effect of the curse you have. but when he found out you have been always like that, he starts asking about your family history 😭

[muqingslover]

Hello! Regarding the LADS LIs, in what order do you think they would be more compatible with an MC that is quite independent? In the sense that the MC likes her space and needs to be lost in her own thoughts and hobbies to unwind once in a while. A LI that is constantly needing attention or quality time would burn her out. I have a feeling Rafayel is the least compatible with this type of MC, but I would like to hear your thoughts since I feel like all of the LIs are a bit clingy to various degrees 😅 Love your blog btw!! I find your characterizations very interesting and on point

[ This was so fun to think about actually!! thank you anon! it's the first time I get a request for a specific reader! 🥳 I did from most compatible to least! ]

Starting off strong, Zayne is definitely the best match!

He is the type to enjoy his own space as well so both of you get some "down time".

He doesn't feel the need to be constantly breathing down your neck to show he loves you or to feel loved by you.

Instead, he'd bring you your favorite sweet, make sure you're feeling alright and then give you a kiss before leaving to another room to do some relaxing of his own.

He understands needing time alone to unwind better than any other. Especially after a full day of dealing with emotional patients and families.

He will be waiting for you when you feel ready!

This guy knows you better than you know yourself.

While growing up he bothered you a loooot about it. He was only a brat and couldn't understand why you liked to hole up in your room if you weren't sick or sad.

As both of you got older, he switched his approach to building a pillow fort where you could hide in when you didn't feel like talking anymore and he'd hide there with you of course.

Now, as an adult, each time he notices your battery is low he slowly starts to make some adjustments to your environment; Lowering the TV volume, speaking in a softer voice and wording his sentences so that it doesn't really require a verbal response from you.

He will always ask you "Wanna take a break?" no matter how many years pass.

Caleb would either go for a run, and get your favorite meal while at it, or cook something if you asked to be left alone ( and yep, he's 100% baiting you with food). He's often texting you silly things to show he's still thinking of you though!

Walk with me here.

The reason he is in the middle is because he is neither the best or the worst match with someone like this!

His nature is extreeeeemely clingy, but! He is also pretty quiet himself so it would completely depend on how you prefer to spend those moments.

Xavier wouldn't mind leaving you to your own thoughts/hobbies, but needs to at least be next to you.

He will use this time to catch some z's most of the time anyway so he will hardly bother you at all if you don't mind the closeness.

Of course, if you really don't want him around then he will leave without a word of complaint. Just expect a looooot of cuddling and requests for affection once you come out He missed you.

Fourth place goes to none other than our favorite loverboy.

He is second to last not because he is dramatic, but because he can be quite anxious about leaving your side.

Though he may not look like it, Sylus will feel antsy if you stay quiet for too long. He prefers to have good and clear communication with you to avoid any....unfortunate events from happening again.

If you want to indulge in your hobbies then please allow him to be apart of it! Even if it's the smallest, most meaningless task. (Like having your back resting against his chest while he flips the pages of your book for you without a word.)

He also makes sure to remind the twins to respect your space when you feel low on energy!

His brain does not know the difference between you wanting to be alone and being condemned to death. What do you MEAN you don't want to be with him?

Definitely makes a big deal out of it the first few times it happen— He sulks so much about being left alone for truly no good reason.

Rafayel will create situations on purpose just to make you come out and get some attention when he feels extra lonely.

Eventually, he decides to compromise; You will get your alone time while he is off to spend the next few hours in his tub (if you have seen his official schedule then you know what I'm talking about).

If you are an artist like him he'd ask you to come paint with him so it's just the two of you just enjoying some silence together!

[mayakern]

i somehow completely missed that the cotton skirts even happened, but i just saw a pic of one in the post about the petticoats and it's super cute! are those coming back ever? (since i missed them, i also don't know how the sales did, and i know y'all are juggling a lot of products so i totally understand if they won't - just curious!)

also i saw your post about the funeral-pattern shirtdress situation and i am so sorry people were awful to you about it. i think a lot of people vastly underestimate how much work goes into a small business (even though you make it pretty transparent, which i really admire and appreciate!), and don't seem to understand that having little margin for error doesn't mean everything goes perfectly, it just means everything sucks so much more when things don't happen perfectly (which is often. people make mistakes sometimes, and even if you didn't, you also can't predict the future). i just really wish people weren't so demanding and dismissive of small creators, because you absolutely don't deserve that. are there products i wish you still carried or would bring back? of course! but i also know you're doing your best to cater to a wide audience so you can stay afloat and keep offering any products at all, and harassing you wouldn't change that (and is just. really fucking mean)

anyway. sorry this is basically two completely separate asks in one, i just really hate the way people treat you sometimes and wanted to show you some support on top of being curious about the cotton skirts 😅

thanks i’m glad you like it! we did the first round of cotton skirt preorders just a couple weeks ago as part of a dungeon delver cotton preorder collection.

we’re going to do a couple more similar cotton collections in september i think (might get delayed but fingers crossed it doesn’t), using some different designs (and also a solid black option) in the same garments (button up shirt, button dress, maxi dress, and pleated midi skirt) plus a brand new maxi skirt option! so keep an eye out for that. i can’t show previews because i don’t have samples yet.

as for the funeral dress stuff—it was a bad time and it’s over now and has been for quite a while. i think part of the nature of the internet and growing attached to people on it means that the criticism can come off a little patronizing. because people think they know you and so when you disappoint them it feels personal and almost like a betrayal. at least, that’s what it’s felt like being on the receiving end of that. and i don’t really know how to solve that while still running my business as ethically and transparently as possible. it is a big part of why i have anon turned off and why i very rarely post about my life outside of the dogs and the business.

overwhelmingly, i feel that my audience is full of kind and wonderful people who want me to succeed, so i’m lucky that instances like the funeral situation can be outliers that stand out in part because they are not the norm. thank you again for the kind words, i really appreciate it.

[stormyoceans]

Have you seen that one of the announced projects is a musical? Jimmy really wanted to play in a musical👀

IM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP ANON BECAUSE I DIDN’T GET TO COMMENT ON IT DURING THE LIVE BUT AS SOON AS I SAW THE WORD ‘MUSICAL’ APPEAR ON THE SCREEN I LITERALLY PERKED UP LIKE A DOG AT THE SIGHT OF A SQUIRREL

like jimmy stating multiple times throughout the year that he would like to play in a musical and GMMTV suddenly producing one???????? LOOKS A LITTLE SUSPICIOUS IF YOU ASK ME

and the thing is..i actually doubt he’s gonna star in the love of siam unless they age up the characters a little since they’re supposed to be teenagers (not that this ever stopped them from casting grown adults to play 18 years old, but you know), however!!!!!!! i do fully genuinely legitimately a 100% honest to god fr believe that he’s at the very least working on bagging a role in a musical for himself and sea in the future. AND IF WHAT HE'S DOING IS NOT ENOUGH TO MAKE IT HAPPEN I WILL ACTUALIZE IT FOR HIM THROUGH THE SHEER POWER OF CLOWNERY AND DELUSION

especially since, whatever my feelings for the series may be, im not letting anyone forget just how fucking GOOD they were in last twilight on stage. I STILL THINK ABOUT THE BRIDGE PART TO THIS DAY LIKE

AFTER SEEING THEM PERFORMING IN THIS NO ONE WILL EVER BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WOULDN'T BE AMAZING IN A FULL BLOWN MUSICAL

not to mention they're constantly working on their vocals and have been improving SO MUCH in the span of just a couple of years, especially jimmy, SO WE'RE MAKING THIS HAPPEN FOR THEM AND THAT'S ON GOD

[sevsgiirl]

hi! can you write sevika with a shy virgin femme reader? i think they would be cute!

— carve your name into my bedpost.

sevika week 2025: first time, day 2.

synopsis: after nearly a year, you were still wary about disclosing your lack of sexual experience with sevika in fear of disappointment. but she doesn’t mind. plus first time for everything right?

word count: 3k.

tags: soft dom!sevika, sub!reader, loss of virginity, choking, strap-ons referred to as cock, oral sex.

note: thank you so much for the req, anon! luckily your req matched the prompt for day 2 of sevika week so I just had to use it. you were probably expecting something more cute and wholesome and this might’ve deviated from that a little bit 😅 nevertheless, I hope you like it!

you never wanted to keep secrets from her.

you knew damn good and well it wouldn’t take long before sevika found out your dirty little secret - mostly because you didn’t do that great of a job at hiding it anyways.

in hindsight, you can see why she would think you had an aversion to her at this point. with you constantly dodging moments where you felt like things were becoming a bit too heated, pulling away just in time when you felt like the kisses grew hot and heavy - all of that just to avoid the one thing you felt like you weren’t ready for.

losing your virginity.

it seemed like such a silly thing to fuss over but it means a lot to you. you weren’t the type to wait until marriage but it tethered the line of something similar - you yearned for a connection before you even thought of getting to that stage with someone.

but it’s close to almost a year since you and sevika got together, and you’re actually surprised sevika was so patient in holding off sex with you until she knew you were ready.it’s a well known fact that between the two of you, sevika was always the more experienced one - from the age all the way to the day she approached you like she had nothing to lose, sevika maneuvered through your entire relationship like it was familiar to her right from the very beginning.

unlike you, you’ve always been squeamish. about everything. you were non confrontational when it came to others and you had a more calm and collected way of handling matters in your life compared to sevika who was always more straightforward.

and you liked it because it balanced the two of you out. she was never impatient with you, she took her time in figuring out the inner workings of your mind and behavior.

it was in those moments of consideration and patience that you realized that damn, she was the one. because it wasn’t often you came across partners who were as tolerant as her, who in spite of your clumsiness and indecisiveness, she was always understanding.

that’s why when your one year anniversary neared, you debated over the idea many times before you came to the conclusion that if you were going to lose your virginity to someone - it was going to be her.

it was nerve wracking because not only was it your first time being intimate with sevika, it was your first time being intimate with anyone. ever.

you weren’t as skilled or knowledgeable with sex as sevika so of course, it was only understandable to be scared that you might fuck things up the first time.

but it was either now or never, because you knew if you keep pending it off god knows it’ll take until your next anniversary before you bring it up again, and although you don’t doubt sevika would be willing to wait for you, deep down you knew you were going to crack regardless.

so when the time came and sevika took you to a nice picnic date where she showered you with great food and gifts, the moment you two came home you immediately stopped by the doorway and squeezed her hand tightly.

she paused in her tracks and looked back at you, her height imposing as she towered over your smaller frame and god, you never realized just how intimidating she was up until this moment.

she was all hard muscle and sharp edges, you don’t blame others for doubting that underneath her hardened exterior laid a provider and protector - someone who constantly looked out and cared for you.

“something wrong, baby?” she asked softly, stepping into your space as she pinched your chin in between her fingers and tilted your head so you could look at her directly.

making you even more nervous because it felt like she was putting you on the spot.

“I-I’ve… been thinking.” you stuttered out as she continued to stare you down “I think it’s time.”

she didn’t quite get it at first, but it wasn’t until you lifted your hand and put it against her toned stomach, that everything suddenly clicked inside her head.

she blinked “are you sure?”

you couldn’t suppress your smile seeing as how that even after a whole year together, she was still willing to let you take your time and see if you actually wanted this.

“I’m sure,” you sighed, looking down at your feet “it’s just… I don’t wanna disappoint,”

“baby, you know that’s impossible. we’ve been together long enough and it’s not like we haven’t already been familiar with each other’s-“

“it’s not-“ you let out a shaky chuckle “just that. sev, I never really told you this but… I haven’t done it with anyone. like ever.”

she froze by the threshold of your apartment and looked at you, dumbfounded. processing your words just for a moment before her eyes softened and she reached out, cupping your face in her calloused palm as she nudged her nose with yours. an affectionate gesture, one that soothed your nerves in an instant.

“no wonder it took you a while. I just thought maybe you weren’t sure about me at first,” she admitted and you immediately shook your head.

“trust me, I’ve never been more sure about doing it with anyone more than I am with you. you…” you paused to gaze into her eyes, feeling your heart clench at the way she was looking at you like you hung the stars “you make me feel so safe, sev.”

she could’ve crumbled right here and there. she might never say it outright like how you just did but the truth of the matter is, no one has ever left this much of an impact on her not until you came along.

before you, she was used to meaningless flings and hookups - dropping by at the gardens to fulfill her needs with any of the girls there because for the longest time, she thought commitment wasn’t for her.

then you proved her wrong.

so you could only imagine she wanted this to be special for you, but also from the deepest pits of her subconscious lingered a thought - one she was too ashamed to confess but the truth is, your inexperience turned her on more than anything.

perhaps it was the juxtaposition between you two. whereas sex was almost like second nature to her - for you it was a foreign language, but sevika savored the thought of being the one to take your virginity. of being the one to set the standard.

because if there was one thing she was certain about - not only was she going to be your first, but she was also going to be your goddamn last.

𐙚˙⋆.˚

fidgeting on the edge of your bed, you were like a leaf in the wind.

sevika could sense your nerves already. she told you to wait for her in your shared bedroom as she got herself ready.

you were still clad in your underwear and an oversized shirt. having taken your makeup off from the date earlier, you waited for sevika to emerge from the bathroom - your knees bouncing and your palms sweaty.

by the time you heard the door creak open however, the whole atmosphere froze as sevika stepped out and your whole mouth went dry.

because there she was, in nothing but her tight boxers that accentuated her thick, muscular thighs while she was left bare everywhere else.

you eyed her from head to toe - she’d taken off her prosthetic and you focused on her right arm as she flexed her bicep. her toned abs were on display as well as her visible V line that led your gaze down to her crotch where you noticed a happy trail peeking out from beneath her briefs.

you felt like a pervert.

your cheeks reddened as she walked closer to where you sat on the bed, trapping your legs together with her own as you clenched your thighs and she couldn’t help but smirk at how visibly nervous you were.

“relax for me, baby.” she purred, caressing your cheek before she pulled away to approach the dresser.

she rummaged through the insides for a bit and you tried to take a peek at what she was looking for, but all your curiosity died down the second you saw it.

a pool of heat suddenly flooded your insides the second you caught sight of the harness she had in her hand, as well as the girthy, long black dildo that was attached to it as she walked back to you.

she stopped in front of you with her eyebrow raised “you know what this is?” she asked and you were silent for a bit before you sheepishly nodded your head.

her eyes glinted mischievously “good,” she thrusted the strap to your open hands.

“because I’m gonna fuck you with it.”

your entire body grew hot as soon as those words left her mouth “is that alright with you?” again, you nodded your head, a little bit too eagerly and she could only chuckle.

“okay, now help me put it on. then we’ll prep you.” she said and you quickly got out of your daze as you helped her.

once it was on, the harness was snug tightly around her hips while the faux cock bobbed up and down the air.

you gulped, eyes wide and sevika was quick to ease your worries “don’t worry, we’ll take things slow.” she said as she bent down to give you a kiss.

it was warm, soothing but quick before she straightened her posture, hands finding purchase at the back of your head as she guided your mouth to her cock.

“open up for me, sweetheart.”

it was less of a request and more so a demand, nevertheless you parted your lips willingly and took her in your mouth inch by inch. meanwhile she made sure you didn’t go too fast as to not gag right away.

“shhh, that’s it. take it easy,” she muttered, licking her lips as she took in the sight of you struggling to swallow her cock “ease your jaw a bit, and relax your tongue. you don’t need to go all the way.”

you looked up at her with teary eyes and followed her instructions as sevika gently pressed her hand at the nape of your neck.

helping you as you slid your lips up and down her shaft while the obscene, wet sounds of your mouth swallowing her dick filled the room.

meanwhile, her breathing grew heavy as she lets out a groan “fuck, baby. you take my cock so well. so fucking good for me.”

she abruptly but gently pulled you away and you couldn’t help the whine that slipped out of you, making her chuckle.

“don’t worry, we’re just getting started. you were doing so good already though, weren’t you?” she cooed, wiping away a stray tear from your eye “now lay down for me, beautiful.”

and as you were about to follow her orders she suddenly stopped you “lose the shirt.”

you obliged, taking it off to reveal you with nothing but your underwear and no bra on. her eyes darkened as she reached forward and took one of your breast in her hand, kneading it before she carefully pushed at your collarbone as your back hit the mattress.

she kneeled in front of you and parted your knees, her hand sliding one side of your underwear down for you as you helped her pull down the other.

she lets out a curse once she saw your glistening folds “jesus,” she was dumbstruck, her eyes nearly obsidian “all this just from sucking my cock?“

you squirmed and instinctively tried to close your legs, but she pinned them down “I don’t think so.” her fingers glided along your inners thighs as she drew her head closer, her breath fanning against your clenching hole and you shuddered.

words couldn’t even describe the sensation when her tongue did a languid swipe at your needy cunt, your back immediately arching off the bed as sevika did her best to anchor you down with one arm. her eyes gazing up at you like a predator watching its prey before it decided to devour it whole.

and devour you whole she did, because one moment she was soft and gentle with the way she licked across your puffy walls then all of a sudden she took your clit in between her lips and sucked. hard.

you yelped because the feeling was just too intense. you’ve touched yourself before on multiple occasions but nothing could’ve compared to the real thing. laying down as your lover spread you open and savored every inch of you.

not to mention the sounds. the way she slurped at your cunt like it was the finest of delicacies while she moaned, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine as you jolted.

“fuck, fuck, fuck. sevika…” you cried as she added in a finger, pushing it in and out of you before adding another - scissoring them back and forth inside you as she curled them at the right angle that had you seeing stars for a moment “oh my god!”

you poured into her all sticky and warm, your slick dripping off her chin and she hummed, wringing your orgasm out of you.

“god, you take me so fucking well, baby.” she crawled up on top of you and kissed you like she was starving for it. the taste of your cum still fresh on the ends of her tongue.

“I think you’re ready now,” she claimed “if it gets too much you tell me, okay? we’ll stop right away. push me away if you have to.”

you shook your head “I’m fine, j-just… fuck me, please.”

she didn’t need to be told twice, with how desperate you sounded and the way your body responded to her, she was a lost cause.

before you knew it, she was guiding the tip of her cock and sliding it back and forth along your pussy lips, sinking into you little by little and you immediately held onto her shoulders for stability. feeling so deliciously full as you began grinding your hips onto hers, seeking friction.

“w-we’ll take it slow.” she said but even she wasn’t sure how long that was going to last, especially with how you looked up at her - all blissed out and opened mouthed.

stroking her cock in a careful back and forth before she bottomed out, punching a broken moan out of you as you felt the ridges of her cock massage your inner walls.

“it feels so good, sev. oh my god. so fucking good, baby. I love your cock.” you were practically slurring your words at this point and sevika had to physically restrain herself from driving herself into you with vigor.

this was your first time and she didn’t want to overwhelm you, but all of that simply got thrown out the window when she felt you dig your claws into her back, pulling her in.

“faster, sev. please.”

she shook her head, keeping her strokes steady and slow “b-baby, I don’t-“

“p-please. fuck me harder. I wont break, I-I need it so bad, sev. please.”

just like that, it was like a light switch was turned on. one moment her pace was deliberate and careful then the next, she was slamming into you that the head board smacked repeatedly against the wall.

not being able to contain the growl that rumbled from the depths of her chest as your pathetic whines filled her ears.

pounding her cock into you with such fervor that you could instantly feel your second orgasm bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m gonna cum, sev. I’m gonna cum, baby, oh my g-god!-“

“that’s it,” she whispered, reaching out as she wrapped her hand around your throat and squeezed. not too tight but just enough to get your mind fuzzy “be a good girl and cum for me. you’re so fucking good.”

beads of sweat slid down her forehead as she continued to drive into you.

“you’re so perfect, baby.” she whispered “never gonna let you go. I’m gonna be the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you hear me?”

your mind was practically blank as you only managed to nod your head in response.

she was panting heavily as she watched you approach the brink of your climax “good girl. I’m your first and last. nobody else.“

and that was the final nail to the coffin. with the band in your stomach instantly snapping, your slick poured out of you. abundant and wet as you cried into the crook of sevika’s neck due to the overstimulation.

“holy shit…” sevika muttered in disbelief seeing the way you squirted all over her.

it took about a minute or two before your pleasure finally subsided. your body deflating as she took you in her arms and pulled out.

the emptiness making you whine but she was quick to soothe it away as she captured your lips with her own. her tongue meeting yours in a passionate kiss as she held you against her you like you were made out of porcelain.

eventually, you had to pull away for air and once you did, she stood up and took the harness off her hips. heading to the bathroom meanwhile you were left in bed with your eyes shut, content.

you heard the faucet running and you felt exhaustion overcome you not until you felt a wet sensation around your inner thighs.

opening your eyes to see sevika cleaning you up with a damp wash cloth, and once she felt your gaze on her she all but smiled.

“I hope it was good for your first time,” she said and you couldn’t help but snort.

“good?” you repeated with a shake of your head “what we just did made me realize that I’m either marrying you or killing you because I don’t think sex with any other person is ever going to top… that.”

she couldn’t help it as she lets out a roar of laughter, making you smile.

“sadly you’re not going anywhere,” you said to which she could only chuckle at.

“yeah well,” she grinned, squeezing your hip affectionately “I don’t think I would want to either. I like it right here.”

[velarisdusk]

What Was Bought, What Was Taken

Eris Vanserra x Reader

summary: He asked for your hand like you were a favor to be traded. When the mating bond snaps in the Court of Nightmares, furious but powerless, you're taken to Autumn. word count: 5,310 content: [ coercion, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, mating bond, all warnings that come with Keir and the Hewn City, dead parents, mentions of abuse, keir is y/n's grandfather ] author's note: thanks anon for this request! sooo i didnt end up writing any smut for this. the tone it took on as i wrote just didnt have the vibe for that, and it wouldve felt really forced. also i felt a strange power imbalance when i tried; not something i’d usually shy away from writing but i think this was a really pretty piece and i didnt want to muddle it with dubcon yk ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

You walked fast—nearly jogged, if you were honest—through the narrow hallway that led to the Council Chamber, your heels catching against the smooth stone as you tried not to make too much noise. Your pulse was already high in your throat, pushed higher by the low, measured toll of the nearby bells. You were late. Again. 

He was going to skin you alive.

Keir hadn’t said much this morning—just that the heir of Autumn would be joining him for “a conversation of mutual interest,” whatever that meant. You hadn’t asked questions. You’d learned by now that curiosity only invited irritation.

But still. Eris Vanserra didn’t come to the Hewn City for polite formalities. No one did. And Keir had been in a mood ever since the messenger confirmed the High Lord had set the meeting. He’d spent the morning stalking the halls like a male preparing for war.

Which meant you were walking in late to something very, very important.

You swore softly and slipped inside.

You hesitated at the heavy double doors of the Council Chamber, the low murmur of voices inside fading the moment you stepped over the threshold. The scent of burning incense mixed with cold stone filled your lungs. Your footsteps echoed softly on the polished floor as you moved forward, eyes deliberately fixed on the ground. As you crossed the room, the tension prickled at your skin. 

“You’re late,” Keir’s voice was calm but sharp enough to cut through the hum of conversation. 

The room quieted around him.

You stopped just shy of your chair, spine straightening instinctively.

You’d expected the reprimand. The public humiliation. He rarely missed an opportunity to remind you who held the reins. 

Keir didn’t motion for you to sit. “Late,” he repeated, the word twisting with disdain. “As though your time is more valuable than mine. Than the court’s. Than our guest’s.”

You kept your gaze low, jaw tightening. 

Keir rose slowly from his seat, not to tower but to command. His voice stayed even, deliberate. “I give you responsibility, and this is how you meet it? I allow you opportunities I would grant no other female. Not even your mother.”

You flinched. 

“Do you think we can afford such carelessness?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer—there never was room for one. 

He turned slightly, gesturing toward Eris with an open palm. “Beron sends us his heir, a rare opportunity for diplomacy. And you walk in like a distracted servant girl, too absorbed in your own little errands to arrive on time.” 

You felt the heat creeping up your neck. 

“I bring you here to observe, to learn,” Keir continued, each word striking like a lash, “and instead, you’ve set an example I’d be ashamed to see from one of my lowest courtiers.” 

Still standing, still silent, you braced yourself for the worst of it. 

Keir waved a hand. “Apologize,” he said simply, resuming his seat. “You’ve made a spectacle of yourself. You will not make one of me.” 

Only then did you finally allow yourself to move. 

You turned—slowly, deliberately—your movements stiff with the effort of keeping your expression blank. You didn’t rush, though your stomach twisted with the burn of humiliation. You kept your chin high anyway. You’d learned that from Keir: if you must be dragged, at least look like you walked of your own will.

You faced the heir of Autumn like you were stepping into a performance you hadn’t rehearsed.

Eris Vanserra.

He was exactly as you’d imagined—sharp angles and cool composure, seated like the chair belonged to him. His golden-red hair caught the torchlight, flickering like open flame, but his posture was still and unbothered. One ankle crossed over a knee, a single finger resting against the corner of his mouth. His gaze was unreadable. Not cold, but closed. Guarded.

He said nothing. Only watched.

And when your eyes met his—

Not gently. Not like the brushing of threads or a soft breath of recognition. It hit like a tether pulled taut all at once, yanked from the depths of your chest, snapping into place so violently it nearly knocked you back a step. Something inside you reeled, flinched—like a door long rusted shut had been forced open from the inside.

Your breath caught, too sharp, too sudden. 

The world narrowed.

You felt it everywhere—like heat blooming low in your stomach, like your lungs weren’t your own, like your pulse had been dragged into rhythm with someone else’s. It was not pain, not exactly. But it was overwhelming. Terrifying. Your heart scrambled to understand what your body already knew: something irreversible had just happened. Something ancient and final.

It was as if an unknown magic inside you had reared its head for the first time in your life and whispered, there you are.

And he was the answer.

You couldn’t look away.

Didn’t dare blink. Not yet.

Eris’ posture didn’t shift. Not even a flicker of recognition across his face. He sat still as stone, gaze steady, unreadable. A master of silence. If his eyes were a fortress, his control was the outer wall—built stone by stone over years, and just as immovable. 

But you—

Your face betrayed everything.

Your lips parted before you could stop them. Your breath stuttered once, then again, too shallow. The blood had drained from your fingertips and rushed to your throat. You felt your lashes flutter, a single blink too slow, too stunned.

And from the corner of your vision, you saw your grandfather’s head tilt—just slightly.

He had seen it.

And you knew, before you even looked at him, that he understood exactly what had happened.

The silence in the chamber stretched thinner than glass. A breath, then another. You could feel the air shift—not with magic, but with attention. Every gaze in the room was waiting. Watching.

Then Eris stood.

Not abruptly. Not with surprise. But like he had been planning to stand all along. Like your new bond had changed absolutely nothing.

You barely stopped yourself from stepping back. Your throat bobbed, dry.

He didn’t speak. Not yet.

He looked at Keir first, his expression unreadable. Not quite expectant—no, it was cooler than that. Measured. His eyes lingered a beat too long. Like he was assessing your grandfather, weighing something invisible.

Then he turned his gaze to you.

Slowly.

And for a moment—just a moment—you wondered what he saw.

Not the expression you’d failed to mask. Not the shock still ringing in your bones. But you. You. The girl your grandfather had hidden behind a hundred veils of courtly obedience. The girl who’d never, in all her fifty years, breathed real air or touched soil or seen the sun. Did he see that? Did he see a possession, or a person?

What does a male like that think when a bond snaps into place?

What does he do with it?

He turned back to Keir.

You braced yourself—he would speak now, you were sure of it. Would begin the negotiations, would play whatever game the two of them had arranged behind closed doors. You knew how this worked. You knew how your story was supposed to be told.

But he didn’t go to Keir.

He came to you.

You froze.

He crossed the room without hesitation, the distance vanishing beneath the sure, easy weight of his steps. And then he was before you—taller, closer than you’d ever expected.

His fingers found yours, gloved hand brushing bare skin. And without asking, without hesitating, he lifted your hand to his mouth.

And kissed it.

Slowly. Deliberately. His gaze never leaving yours.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You couldn’t answer. Your voice stuck behind your teeth, behind the shock, behind the weight of everything unspoken. You weren’t sure your lungs had remembered how to pull air.

Then he turned, your hand still in his.

As if you had already agreed.

As if your silence meant yes.

As if you were already behind him.

“I’d like her hand,” he said, gaze returning to Keir. “Formally. As mate. As future lady of Autumn.”

The words didn’t seem real.

You heard them. You understood each one. But they landed out of order, scattered, like someone had tipped your mind sideways and let your thoughts spill into a pile.

Her hand. Mate. Lady of Autumn.

Was this—was this a proposal? A declaration? A transaction?

Your heart was still beating too fast. Your palm still burned faintly where his mouth had touched it. The bond hummed along your spine and through each rib like a second heartbeat, louder now, more insistent, as though it was pleased with itself for being named.

But your body hadn’t caught up with your brain. You felt removed from it—like you were standing in the wrong version of yourself. The version that would have looked to her grandfather for approval. That would have nodded, smiled, curtsied, spoken her lines.

You weren’t smiling now.

He had asked for you. Claimed you. Not in metaphor, not in theory, not in the slow-burn romantic sense you’d once imagined while reading contraband books in the dim corners of your room.

No—he had asked for you like you were an estate: measurable, ownable, transferable. 

You opened your mouth. You weren’t even sure what you meant to say. Maybe No, maybe What are you doing, maybe just your own name to remind the room you had one.

But whatever it was, it didn’t make it past your tongue.

“Vanserra,” your grandfather said smoothly, eyes narrowed just enough to reveal his doubt. “You expect me to believe you would bind yourself, your future court, to someone you’ve not yet had a full conversation with?”

His voice was amused. Skeptical. But not insulted.

Not dismissive.

And that, somehow, made the panic press tighter behind your ribs.

You’d thought—naively, maybe—that your grandfather would laugh. That he’d bristle with offense. That he’d dismiss Eris’s request outright, just for the insult of asking.

But instead, Keir was considering it.

That amusement in his tone wasn’t mockery—it was interest, cloaked in skepticism. Testing the weight of the offer. Looking for the angle.

Your fingers curled in on themselves slowly, like your body was trying to reclaim what had been taken, as if you could reverse it, undo it, pull back from the moment and make it a mistake someone else had made.

Eris didn’t flinch beneath Keir’s scrutiny. His stance remained relaxed—too relaxed. He finally released you in favor of clasping both hands behind his back, chin slightly lifted. 

“Curious choice,” Keir mused, voice light with false interest. “Hardly the most advantageous offer on the table.”

A pause. Your face heated. 

“I don’t make decisions I haven’t already considered in full,” Eris said. “And I don’t waste time asking for what I don’t intend to keep.”

A faint smirk touched his lips, but it wasn’t cruel. It was worse than cruel—it was calm. Certain.

“Let that be answer enough.”

Your knees nearly gave out.

That was the story, then. That was how they’d frame it. As strategy. As inevitability.

Your mouth parted again, and this time, words came. Shaky, quiet.

“I haven’t—”

“Be silent,” Keir said, without looking at you.

And just like that, your voice vanished again.

Not by magic. By command. 

By obedience. 

You looked at Eris then. You wanted to see something—anything—in his face. Doubt, maybe. Hesitation. Some flicker of recognition that this was wrong, or too much, or too fast.

But there was only stillness.

Keir leaned back in his chair with the ease of a male who had just found himself holding the sharpest blade in the room.

“And here I thought,” he said, almost idly, “you’d come to posture and circle, like every other male with a title to defend.” His fingers drummed once against the armrest. 

Eris didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Keir let the silence settle before continuing, voice shifting—cooler now, more precise. “She wasn’t part of the original arrangement. Not in any meaningful way.”

You flinched, barely, at the word meaningful.

“She’s young. Inexperienced. Untried in court or politics. I wouldn’t call her… an asset.”

Your stomach turned.

“But,” Keir went on, tone sharpening, “it seems the bond has given her value. At least to you.”

He smiled then, the kind that didn’t touch his eyes.

“So let’s discuss what her hand is worth.”

It was like being stripped bare in the center of the room—like the torchlight itself was meant to spotlight your stillness, your silence, your helplessness. You didn’t know if they saw you blush or pale or tremble. You didn’t think it mattered.

They weren’t looking at you anymore.

Only at what you could buy.

“What do you offer, Vanserra?” Keir asked, gaze gleaming. “Because I can promise you, I don’t sell cheaply.”

The faint flicker of torchlight caught the sharp angles of Eris’ face, casting shadows that made him look almost carved from stone. His eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest curve touching his lips—not quite a smile, but close. He leaned forward, his voice low, measured.

“You won’t find a more valuable alliance, Keir.”

He let the words hang between them.

“I offer the full backing of Autumn once I am its High Lord—its armies, its resources, its influence. A bond with me is a bond with the power of my court.”

His gaze flicked briefly to you, cool and appraising, then back to Keir.

“This union will strengthen your hold on the Hewn City, and send a clear message to any who would challenge you.”

He paused, voice dipping with a quiet threat.

“Turn away from this offer, and you risk everything Autumn’s power can undo.”

The room grew heavier with unspoken implications.

Your grandfather’s smile was thin but sharp. “Bold words. But fitting for the Vanserra heir.”

Keir leaned forward, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he studied Eris for a long moment. Then, at last, he nodded slowly, the hint of a smile ghosting across his lips.

“Very well,” he said with deliberate finality. “The alliance is formed. The hand is promised.”

His gaze snapped to you, sharp and unyielding. “You have thirty minutes.”

The weight of his words fell like a stone in your chest.

There was no room for protest. No space to bargain or plead.

This was not a question.

This was command.

Keir rose from his chair, gathering his cloak with a casual authority that brooked no argument.

“Leave us.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve taut, as you turned on unsteady legs, the silent watch of Eris burning at your back.

The path ahead was certain. And terrifying.

You closed the heavy chamber door behind you with a muted click, but the weight of the moment pressed against your chest so hard it felt like stone. Your knees wobbled, breath shallow and uneven, as you leaned against the cold wall just outside the Council Chamber.

The words kept spinning through your mind, relentless: You have thirty minutes. You have thirty minutes. You have thirty minutes. 

Your mind scrambled to make sense of it all. You’d been dealt like a pawn, bargained over like a piece of trade—no voice, no choice, no say. And yet, beneath the shock and numbness, something deeper roiled. 

Not just because Eris had asked for your hand without so much as a conversation, but because your grandfather had agreed so easily, like you were a thing, not a person. Like your life, your future, was a token to be wagered.

You hated the quiet calm in the chamber, hated the way Eris had kissed your hand like it was a prize, hated the way you’d frozen when you wanted to scream.

You wanted to yell. To fight. To rip the whole arrangement apart.

But mostly, you hated the emptiness.

When you finally reached your chambers, the door swung open to reveal the room you had grown up in—familiar, but suddenly stripped bare of comfort.

You stared around at your belongings. A handful of dresses neatly hung or folded, books lined on a shelf, a worn cloak hanging by the door. Nothing worth packing.

What was there to take with you when everything you were about to leave behind was all you’d ever known?

You sank onto the edge of your bed, hands clenched in your lap. The silence screamed louder than the council ever had.

You forced yourself to stand, to move, to do what you had to do.

First, you found your friends. You avoided their eyes at first, unsure how to explain what was happening—or how to bear the pity you already saw lurking there. But they hugged you tight, whispered promises and farewells. 

Then, you made your way to the cremation grounds—an austere place carved into the stone, where your parents’ ashes rested beneath a polished granite marker.

You knelt, fingertips tracing the cool surface, and whispered a goodbye you hadn’t dared to say aloud until now. The names carved into the stone were tethers, memories heavy as iron. 

They had never seen the surface. Never felt true sun, never lived anywhere but in this damn mountain. Born, bound, and buried beneath it. Your chest ached at the thought.

You closed your eyes, let the silence stretch—let it echo with everything you couldn’t give them. Everything they should’ve had. The dust of their memory settled quietly around you as you rose, a small flame of resolve kindling in your chest.

“I’ll wait, if you need more time.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as turn to look at him. His voice didn’t startle so much as settle—low and composed, like the rest of him. But still unexpected. 

For a long moment, you just stared at the stone. At your parents’ names carved into it, slightly worn by time and your fingertips. 

“I can’t say I expected you to be here,” you said quietly. 

And then—because curiosity always got the better of you, and because something in you bristled at the fact that it was him standing there—you turned. 

He was standing a careful distance away. Hands clasped behind his back, gaze on the marker like he owed it something.

“I would have brought flowers,” Eris said after a beat. “If I’d known.”

“They weren’t the type.” Your voice cracked a little. “Anything sentimental would’ve embarrassed them.”

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “Practical, then. Like you.”

You bristled. “You don’t know me.”

“No,” he conceded, meeting your eyes. “Not yet.”

Something in the way he said it—not with the arrogance you heard before, but something quieter, steadier—made your throat tighten.

“I’m still angry,” you admitted, folding your arms like you could hold the feeling in place. 

Eris nodded once, slowly. “You have every right to be.”

You didn’t respond. Just stared at the stone again, at the faint lichen creeping over the edge. It unsettled you, how easily he’d said that. How quickly he’d handed you that piece of ground to stand on. You weren’t used to your feelings being named, let alone validated. It felt like a trick. Like something sharp might be hidden beneath it. 

“It wasn’t what I wanted,” he said, voice low. “But it was the best way to get Keir to let you go.”

You glanced at him, wary. “You bought me.”

His jaw tensed. “No. I negotiated a release. From a court that would never stop holding this bond over our heads.”

Your silence stretched a little too long. 

“I know,” he went on, quieter now, “that Rhysand wouldn’t have allowed me to set foot in the Night Court again if it meant keeping me away from you. Not if Morrigan had anything to say about it.”

You blinked. 

And then—gods. Morrigan.

Your aunt Morrigan. Your father’s sister. 

This was the male she’d been promised to. The male she’d “sullied” herself to escape. Your whole life, your family had cursed her name. Called her tainted. Faithless. A disgrace to her bloodline. Whispers you’d grown up hearing, sharp as knives tucked behind closed doors. That she’d betrayed her own. That she’d been ungrateful for the match.

But now… after having to stand in silence as you were bartered… 

Now you finally understood.

What kind of cruelty had she been trying to avoid?

Surely not worse than what you’d seen in the Hewn City. Surely not worse than what you had endured under Keir’s thumb.

But the question clung like smoke, refusing to leave you.

“So this is it, then?” You gestured to the empty stone corridor. “This is how it starts?”

Eris didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he studied you, the weight of his gaze something you couldn’t quite avoid. And then, as if the weight of it had become too much, he said, “No. This is how it was forced to begin. What comes next… that’s something we decide.”

You believed him. And it infuriated you. Because believing him meant accepting that this—this loss of control—had been the cleanest option. That all the quiet fury in your chest had nowhere to go.

After a long pause, Eris stepped forward. “Take my hand,” he said quietly, extending his gloved fingertips toward you. His tone wasn’t gentle—merely firm, as if it carried the weight of inevitability. “It would be my pleasure to welcome you to Autumn.”

At those words, your heart lurched. You had never stepped beyond the Hewn City, never ventured to the surface where a world existed beyond cold stone and perpetual shadow. The thought alone made you shudder with both apprehension and a spark of fragile hope.

Before you could protest, Eris murmured, “Please. Trust me—even if you can’t fully do so right now.”

And then, his hand pressed to your arm. At his command, your surroundings began to shift. At first, it was subtle—a soft darkening of the edges of your vision, as though a veil were draped over the world. The corridor’s harsh, angular stone and the ever-present damp chill faded into a deeper gloom, the familiar replaced by an almost dreamlike dusk.

The subtle shift in sensation, like the brush of silk over your mind. The way color and texture pulled away from you slightly—not gone, not dulled, but… filtered.

Your stomach clenched.

“What did you do?” you demanded, already blinking hard against the strange dimness. “You glamoured me.”

“Yes.”

“Why—”

“I didn’t want it to overwhelm you,” Eris said, voice steady but not unkind. “You’ve never seen the sun. Not really. I thought easing you into it might be… gentler.”

It should’ve infuriated you. It did—for a breath. But even through the soft, unnatural dimness, you could feel something shifting in the air around you.

Your eyes dropped to the ground.

Leaves.

Thousands of them, scattered in every direction, mottled gold and rust-red and brown. Some crisp, curled in on themselves; others flattened by the damp, pressed into the dirt like forgotten pages.

The ground was dirt. Dirt.

And you were standing on it. Not stone. Not carved, cursed floors. Just—ground.

Your knees wobbled.

You tried to look up—to follow the drifting fall of a leaf—and froze again.

The glamour had begun to lift. Slowly, gradually, but it made all the difference. 

Light filtered through in ribbons. Warm and golden, but not the artificial flickering of faelights or the guttering orange of torches. It hit the edge of your face and you jerked away, blinking rapidly, hand lifting on instinct.

You turned, staring at the strange, living world around you. Everything moved. Not like it did in the Hewn City, where the only shifting things were people and shadows and smoke. Here, even the air moved. The trees swayed. The grass trembled. Light dappled and danced without ever once flickering out.

There were no books about this.

Why would there be? 

What need would any of you have to understand this, when you were never meant to leave? 

The surface was spoken of in fragments, in dismissals wrapped in soft smiles. Your parents had told you once—when you were young and asking too many questions—that they’d gone up, years ago. That it was nothing special. More stone. More dark. Just bigger. Emptier. That the Hewn City was safer, more efficient. Cleaner. The lie had worked for a while. You were a child who still believed adults wouldn’t lie for no reason. 

But you remembered their faces when they eventually admitted the truth: they’d never been above ground. 

Not once. 

But oh, how they’d wanted to. 

They didn’t know what waited for them up here. Didn’t know what the air felt like when it didn’t cling. Didn’t know that cold could come from something other than absence. They didn’t know what it was to hear the earth breathe. 

They never got to find out.

You exhaled through your nose, slow and uneven. The glamour loosened its hold over your sight like fingers unthreading from your hair, slow, gradual, calm. You were starting to see more, now—color edging its way in around the world. 

Something darted between two tree trunks ahead. You flinched. It flapped.

A bird. Not like the crows some kept in the Hewn City—those clever-eyed, miserable things bred for messages and menace. This one was bright. Red all over. Smaller, rounder. It seemed… unnecessary. Beautiful in a way that served no purpose at all.

And the air. You hadn’t realized before—it was scented. Not perfumed, not thick with the smell of candles and sweat and opium or whatever poison the courts were drinking. This was sharp. Crisp. Like snow, but not quite. Like spice, but not any kind you’d tasted. It filled your lungs, slid into your mouth and over your tongue. It was—

Alive.

So was the cold. Not the heavy, hollow kind that leached from stone walls and seeped into your bones while you sat still for too long. This cold had movement. It brushed your cheekbones, bit at your fingers, made your teeth press together—but the sunlight, wherever it touched you, answered it. Like they were playing. Like they were supposed to exist together.

The light was almost fully clear now.

You squinted up, following the glow that filtered through high branches, and—

“Ow—fuck,” you muttered, jerking back a step.

Eris shifted in front of you before you could blink. “Yeah,” he said, amused. “Don’t look straight at the sun. Even mortals know better than that.”

You rubbed your eyes, half-glaring at him. “Thanks for the tip.”

But even now, blinking past the blur, the world stayed. The trees. The grass. The slow roll of clouds, and the strange freedom of air that didn’t sit stale and pressed against a ceiling. It was too much. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to do with it all.

A whisper, so quiet you weren’t sure at first if you imagined it: “Turn around.”

You did. Slowly. The way he’d said it—low, reverent—it pinned you still.

“And don’t make a sound,” he added, barely audible. “Just look.”

You turned.

And the world opened again.

A small clearing spread before you, rimmed by trees. And in it—movement. Dozens of them. More. Creatures you couldn’t name. Slender, long-legged, soft-eyed. Some with antlers that curved like branches, others smaller, delicate, trailing behind.

Eris leaned in close, voice barely more than breath. “The ones with antlers? Those are bucks—the males.” You watched as they stepped, and grazed, and flicked their ears. 

“The others are does. And…” His smile warmed his words. “Looks like they’ve got fawns with them. Babies.”

They didn’t look real.

They looked like myths given flesh—gentle and silent and unreal in their serenity. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t remember how.

One of the younger ones looked up, ears twitching. It stared directly at you.

And for one impossibly long second, you felt seen in a way no one from the Hewn City had ever dared to look.

Not as something to be shaped. Not as a petulant granddaughter. Not as a tool.

Just… someone standing in the woods.

Alive. 

The fawn blinked. Its ears flicked once more. Then it turned, unafraid, and trotted after its mother through the trees.

You didn’t realize your fingers had curled into Eris’s sleeve until he shifted to glance down at them. You let go at once, heart lurching, but he said nothing.

The clearing quieted again, the herd melting into the underbrush as if they’d never been there at all. But the stillness they left behind was different. Settled. And full.

“I didn’t think anything like that could exist,” you whispered, like the words might scare the memory off too. You looked back to where the deer had vanished. “They weren’t afraid of us.”

“No,” he said. “They didn’t need to be.”

A breeze stirred the trees, and sunlight flickered between the leaves like rippling gold. Somewhere overhead, a bird you didn’t know the name of called out—sharp and clear and free.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. Not because you were cold.

There was moss, impossibly green, clinging to the north side of the trees. Clusters of wildflowers pushing up through soft earth, in shades too delicate to name. A squirrel—tiny, absurdly fast—scrambled up a trunk nearby and vanished into the leaves with a rustle. Even the rocks here didn’t seem lifeless. Sun-warmed and dappled in lichen, they felt like they belonged to the scene, not just cluttered it.

And when you turned back, Eris was looking at you.

His smile was soft. Crooked. Lit not by torchfire, but something gentler. And his eyes—amber, bright as honey in the sun—sparkled with it.

You blinked at him. “What?”

He tilted his head, just a bit. “You’re smiling.”

You were.

Big and bright and wide and completely unrestrained. Not the practiced curve you offered at court. Not the polite, tight-lipped expression your family had called pretty when appropriate.

This was something else. A whole-body kind of smile. A laugh trying to form even though nothing had been said. And you hadn’t even noticed.

Heat crept to your cheeks. “Oh.”

Eris didn’t tease you for it. Didn’t smirk or say something sharp. He only studied you, as if trying to memorize the exact shape of it. 

His voice was quiet when he spoke again. Not uncertain, exactly, but… careful. Like the words mattered more than they usually did.

“Would you…” He hesitated, just a beat. His gaze flicked away, then returned to yours. “Would you like to see more? Take a walk?”

He said it like he wasn’t sure if you’d want to go—with him, specifically. Because it hadn’t occurred to him, maybe, that someone might say yes to something like this. To him, like this.

The breeze rustled again, lifting strands of his hair where it had slipped loose from the ribbon at his nape. In the sunlight, it was all shades of flame—copper and gold, a glint of red. His coat had caught some of the forest too: a few leaves clung to the velvet near his shoulder, unnoticed. His collar was slightly askew.

He looked nothing like the High Lord’s heir here. Nothing like the snarling, coiled force you’d seen before.

He just looked… warm. And waiting. One arm extended in quiet offering, elbow bent like some chivalrous male out of an old tale. Like he meant to escort you, not lead.

You slipped your hand into the crook of his arm. 

He didn’t start walking right away—just stood there a moment, like he was letting you decide when to begin. And when you finally did, your steps slow and quiet beneath the trees, he matched them without question.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The woods did enough talking for you.

“There’s no rush,” Eris said, softly. “Take it as slowly as you like.”

You glanced up at him, but his gaze stayed ahead, following the winding path.

“We’ve got nothing but time.”

It sounded like he meant the walk.

But you knew better. 

[sevsevteen]

hiii, how are youuu??? i absolutely love your writing and lately i’ve been obsessed.

so i wanted to request a seventeen reaction of their 14th member being short but like really short cause i’m 154cm and everyone is always taller than me, i really want to know how they tease herrrr

feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to write about this anyways thanks in advance!! 💗💗

heyyy anon ! here are a few drabbles on interactions w a shorter oc 😝 i'm on the shorter side as well so i DIE for tall boy x short girl tropes, & who says being short doesn't have their advantages :>

-- ★*☆♪

You leaned against the wall while scrolling through your phone, waiting for Dino to finish up packing in the practice room - when a familiar weight landed gently on your head.

You froze. “Don’t you dare.”

“I knew it!” Seungcheol laughed, elbow comfortably perched on the top of your head. “Perfect height. The most comfortable, even. I should start carrying a cushion just for you.”

You swatted his arm, cheeks puffed. “Do I look like furniture?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Like a very sturdy armrest.”

.

You squinted up at the blazing sun, hand shielding your eyes while the set around you bustled with noise.

“I hate this part of summer.”

Joshua approached like a tall, angelic saviour, casually passing a bottle of cold water to you. He stepped in front of you, arms crossed - shadow engulfing you whole.

“There you go,” he said with a teasing smile, glancing down at you. “Personal umbrella service.”

You blinked up at him. “You just wanted to flex your height again, didn’t you?”

He patted you on the head gently. “No, I’m simply making use of my resources.”

“You and your long limbs.” You deadpanned, rolling eyes.

“Exactly,” Shua replied smugly. “Should I follow you around today? Shade on demand?”

You squinted. “Only if you carry my bag too, Mr. Resource.”

.

You stared at the pantry shelf like it had personally betrayed you.

Your arms were stretched, heels lifted, and yet the pack of instant noodles still remained three centimetres beyond reach.

“Why,” you hissed under your breath, “do you guys always put things up here when there’s plenty of space down there?”

Jun and Woozi lazed on the couch, sparing you a quick look before laughing, eyes going back to the TV in front.

Jeonghan walked by humming, barely glancing at you. “Need help, or just practicing your vertical jump?”

You glared. “I know you guys put it there on purpose!”

He grinned, effortlessly towering over to grab the pack from the top shelf. “Me? Never. Must’ve been the wind.”

You reached out to take it, but he held it back just out of reach, a glint in his eyes.

“Jeonghan.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, finally giving it to you. “Only because your angry face is peak entertainment.”

.

The music pulsed through the rehearsal room, layered over chatter and laughter. You stood on your toes, tapping Wonwoo’s arm to get his attention from the side.

You said his name once - twice - but he didn’t catch it. Then, without a word, you pulled his collar gently, catching him by surprise.

Wonwoo’s mouth gaped, tilting his head to bring his ear close to your lips, one hand resting lightly on your back for balance.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, “it’s hard to hear you with all this noise. What were you saying?”

You smiled softly, repeating your words.

Wonwoo gave you a small nod, eyes crinkling as he stood back up. “Got it. I’ll let the others know, too.”

For once, there was no teasing in his tone - just a natural warmth that came with how effortlessly he made room for you in his tall world.

.

The venue buzzed with staff members in headsets, hustling to prepare for the main event. The members had just finished their soundcheck, and your managers had left with one strict instruction: “Stay in the waiting room. No wandering.”

Naturally, that lasted all of five minutes.

“Has anyone seen her?” Dokyeom asked first, looking around and frowning.

“She was literally just here,” Seungkwan muttered, holding a half-eaten rice ball. “I gave her the last bite, and she just - vanished?”

Hoshi walked toward the door and peeked outside. “Did she actually slip out?”

“No way she got past staff,” Joshua said - but even he sounded unsure. “She’s, like, five feet tall. Someone would’ve noticed.”

“Exactly,” Minghao said dryly, “She probably joined a group of staff and left.”

Everyone scattered subtly, pretending to stretch or wander lazily near the corridor, pretending to chat - but all eyes were scanning.

Then, a ping into the group chat:

🦖: “She’s at the snacks table in the guest tent. Masked up. She’s literally using a camera crew as a human wall.”

Seungcheol groaned. “Of course she is.”

You returned minutes later, sipping a drink like nothing happened. “What did I miss?”

Seungkwan just stared. “Are you crazy?! The managers almost found out– We had to lie for you.”

Mingyu ruffled your hair. “Told them you went to the restroom with Seungkwan.”

A beat.

“...Seungkwan was in the makeup chair.”

“Thanks,” you snorted. “I guess being short does have its perks.”

Hoshi grinned down at you. “We should start putting a bell on you.”

“Try me,” you curled a fist, eyes flicking down in threat. “I’ll make sure you can’t have kids in this lifetime.”

--

[em1i2a3]

Sometimes

Pairing: The Sentry/Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Void x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long day of working on baby prep, you and Sentry have a relaxing night together.

Warnings: No warnings, just pure fluff here, and a little bit of power use (nothing dangerous or anything though)

Author’s Note: This was a request by an anon, they wanted to see Sentry while the reader was pregnant (this is left open for whether it could be tied in with my Dad!Bob series or not, this is kind of a one-shot in my opinion, but I liked the idea a lot!), sorry about it being so short, I was super busy with rehearsals today and rerigging stuff that I wrote this on my phone again lol. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy! And I can’t wait to update the Todd Fic tomorrow! :) Fricking so hyped.

Word Count: 2,863

“Sentry, can you bring the bottle of lotion over here when you come back?” You asked, rubbing your hands over the tight skin of your stomach. The heat underneath it pulsed like lava, your bloodstream thick and molten with life. The baby shifted again, slowly and with weight–searching for space that didn’t really exist anymore because they had taken up the majority of it at this point. You sat crisscrossed at the head of the bed, your back nestled against a fortress of pillows, watching an old rerun of Wheel of Fortune, squinting at the letters on the board and trying to solve the phrase in your head. The soft hum of the ceiling fan stirred the arm, warm and lazily, providing you a hint of relief from the heat that radiated from your body.

From the bathroom you could hear Sentry brushing his teeth with steady strokes, the sounds of bristles and water echoing off the sink. You imagined him standing in front of the medicine cabinet mirror, shirtless in his flannel sleep pants, quilting at his reflection with toothpaste on his lips.

You let out a little sigh, and your eyes drifted to the corner of the room, to the large crib.

He had built it that afternoon with his sleeves rolled up and his expression pinched with the kind of focus only Sentry could bring to furniture assembly. You had sat nearby on a cushioned bench, handing him screws one by one, making sure to be careful not to lose any of them. Every few minutes, he kissed your fingers–soft, tiny ones with his eyes half-lidded–as if he was thanking you for being there and existing. You had teased him for being so affectionate, but he didn’t care.

He had been nesting, hovering, doing everything he could to prepare and provide for you in a way that was useful and god-like almost. It was almost like you were living with the sun and the moon and the tide all rolled into one man who brought you snacks, rubbed your ankles, and gave you praise every time you moved a muscle.

Bob and Sentry had been switching on and off for night duties. The Void on the other hand had chosen his own set of visiting hours, arriving on Sundays, where he mostly stayed in the corner of the room with his glowing eyes studying you, asking if you were okay, or if there was anything he could do that didn’t involve touching your stomach because he was afraid something was going to happen if he did. When he got used to it he slowly began showing up with cooling cloths and pre-fluffed pillows, and he tried his hardest, which you appreciated. All of them were helpful in their own ways, and you loved them for it–each unique facet of him, all orbiting around you like moons caught in your gravity.

You had grown used to relying on them in ways you never thought you would. The last few weeks had turned you into something of a homebound creature. Even the simplest tasks–getting off the couch, finding a comfortable sleep position, putting on socks or pants–felt like climbing a mountain in slow motions. And while you weren’t exactly helpless, you couldn’t deny how much you truly needed their presence, help, and steady hands.

Sentry emerged from the bathroom, wiping off his mouth with a damp towel, placing it on the sink before grabbing the bottle of lotion you had asked for. His skin shimmered in the dim light, like someone had painted him in glitter, even though it was just droplets of water. His pyjama pants hung low on his waist, showing off his muscular figure that still made you giddy when you saw them. His light brown hair was combed back, so it didn’t fall in front of his face, and he looked particularly relaxed. He moved silently at first, then offered you a soft, radiant smile, holding up the bottle.

”You have summoned me, my queen?” He teased, holding the bottle up like it was a chalice. You let out a soft laugh, eye half-lidded with warmth.

”I have …I need those hands of yours.” Sentry smirked.

”Of course you do.” He moved slowly–like time didn’t dare rush him, like gravity worked differently for him than for mortals. He crawled up the bed on his knees, shoulders broad and glowing in the flickering blue TV light, then paused beside you.

”Mind making a little room for little old me so I can sit beside you?” He asked gently. You nodded without hesitation, scooting to the side, huffing slightly as your belly protested the motion. He immediately touched your hip, steadying you slightly.

”Sorry,” You mumbled.

”Don’t be. You’re carrying the cosmos.” His voice was serious now, “You never have to apologize to me, my love.” You let out a soft exhale as he settled beside you, legs crossing, knees brushing yours. He pumped a generous dollop of lotion into his palm. The warm, almost chocolatey scent of cocoa butter filled the room, sweet and soft. He rubbed his hands together, and then–without a word–brought them to your stomach.

His palms glided over the tight skin of your bump, warm and firm and careful. He started at the sides, his thumbs gently circling beneath your ribs, then moving down toward the underside where most of the weight had settled. His touch was that of an expert now, like he’d studied every inch of your pregnant body and memorized it.

“Y’know…” He started, still gently massaging the lotion into your skin, “I kind of understand why human beings have the saying ‘bun in the oven’…Cause your skin feels like it’s on fire.” You let out a little laugh, reaching up to rest your swollen hands on his forearms.

”Well…I’m also carrying a baby who’s got a little bit of your DNA in them, so I expected to be this warm constantly.” He chuckled low in his chest, his hands pausing momentarily as he met your gaze, his golden eyes shimmering in the lighting.

”This is true…I apologize for that. You must get really sweaty.” You snorted.

”So sweaty. Bob needed to change the sheets the other night and order a better fan because I was literally dripping like I got out of the shower.” He let out a bellowing laugh, shaking his head, as he leaned down to get a bit closer to your stomach, his breath fanning over your skin. The pads of his fingers pressing gently, his touch so careful it almost tickled.

”They’ve moved lower,” He murmured, “I can feel their little head right here.” He tapped the area gently, smiling, like it was his favourite discovery in the world. Your thumb drifted slowly over the soft skin of his forearm.

”There’s only three weeks left, so they’re probably getting into position for delivery.” You explained. He let out a slow, almost trembling sight and leaned forward a bit more, pressing the softest kiss to the top of your belly. His mouth lingered there, warm and gentle, as if speaking a prayer directly to your child through touch.

“I’m so nervous to meet them,” He confessed quietly against your skin, “But I’m so excited that I get the opportunity to have this life with you.” He looked up at you then, the glow of his golden eyes only becoming brighter and shimmering in the low light. There was so much raw low in them that it made your chest ache,

”And I’m so grateful for you…That you wanted to do this with me…” He kissed your stomach again, slower this time, lips pressing to the center of your bump, leaving a little wet spot.

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, a vow spoken straight into your skin. You reached down, brushing your fingers tenderly through his hair, letting your nails lightly graze his scalp as he leaned into the touch. He closed his eyes briefly, drinking it in, then looked up when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“We love you too,” You replied, your voice low, full of sincerity. Your fingers moved down to his cheeks, cupping them gently, thumbs tracing along his cheekbones. He was warm–glowing, literally and emotionally–and as you touched him, you felt a blush bloom beneath your palms.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad.” His breath hitched slightly at your words, and the flush on his cheeks deepened. His golden eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned forward to kiss you–soft, slow, and trembling with quiet devotion. When you kissed him back, he let his hand come to your cheek, brushing over your skin with the gentleness of a breeze.

“And you’re going to be an amazing mother,” He whispered as he pulled away, eyes still barely open. “They’re going to be so lucky to have you.” You kissed him once more before he leaned back down, resettling beside you, returning to your belly like it was the center of his whole world. His palms began to move again, rubbing slow, lazy circles, chasing the little kicks and rolls beneath your skin.

“They’re going to be lucky to have us,” You corrected, placing your hands on top of his, running your thumbs brushing over the backs of his fingers. He looked up at you, eyes soft and hazy from the glow.

“Even The Void?” You gave a quiet, sure nod.

“Even the Void. He’s been coming around lately… Still won’t touch my stomach, but he’ll sit very still beside me and ask questions, which is nice.” Sentry let out a little hum, not surprised by his fellow entity being afraid of doing something wrong. He had felt that before as well, but got over the fear quickly. “He probably would’ve loved to build the crib…” You added softly, almost to yourself. Sentry smiled, turning his attention back to your belly, still massaging in slow, loving circles.

“Yeah…He would’ve been able to keep his hands busy…Keep his mind from spiraling.” He glanced at you again. “I’ll leave him something to build. Maybe a rocking chair or maybe the change table. We’ll figure something out for him.” You nodded, still tracing the top of his hands with your thumbs, your skin warm beneath his glow.

There was a lull then–just the faint sound of Wheel of Fortune in the background and the quiet rhythm of your breathing, synced to his. His head dipped slightly toward your belly again, and the baby gave a small flutter beneath his touch.

Then, he glanced up again with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna see something funny I discovered a few nights ago?” He asked. Your brows lifted slightly.

“As long as it doesn’t involve me getting up,” You teased, voice dry but playful. “You can show me whatever you’d like.” He let out a soft laugh and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, my love. You stay exactly where you are.” Slowly, he pulled one of his hands away from your stomach and raised it slightly. You watched with curiosity as a warm, golden light flickered to life in his palm–an orb no larger than a plum, swirling with soft yellow radiance, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Watch this,” He whispered.

He hovered the glowing orb just over your belly and then gently placed it against your skin. Immediately, the light shimmered across your stomach like warm honey, catching in every curve and stretch, outlining the tight slope of your body.

And then–kick.

Then another. A small roll. A nudge.

When Sentry gently pulled his hand back, the orb of light dispersed into a final flicker, but your stomach didn’t stop glowing.

Instead, the entire surface shimmered.

The soft, golden light seemed to pulse just beneath your skin–faint and otherworldly–glowing in rhythm with every tiny movement from inside. You watched, wide-eyed and breathless, as the baby shifted, kicked, rolled–and each little bump lit up your belly like the sky just before dawn. Gentle bursts of light bloomed under the surface, painting glowing constellations over the stretched skin, fleeting and mesmerizing.

You’d seen Sentry glow like this. You’d seen him light up the room when he stepped into it–when his power flared, when his emotions ran too deep for his body to hold.

But this?

This was the same light.

His light.

You could barely breathe. You stared at the warm gold pulses radiating from within, tiny flares where their feet bumped into the walls of your womb, where their hands pushed outward just beneath your ribs.

And it hit you all at once.

That light–so powerful, so godlike, so full of love and energy and life–was truly inside you. Inside the child you’d made together. Inside the child who was going to be here in a few weeks. You let out a long breath, eyes glassy with awe.

“Holy crap…” You whispered. Sentry looked up immediately, his glowing eyes bright with joy, like he’d been waiting for you to see it too. His face cracked into a grin–soft and a little crooked with overwhelming pride.

“I know,” He said with a breathless laugh. “I was just messing around when I couldn’t sleep. I hovered the light near you, and…They just started glowing with me. Like they recognized it.” He reached up slowly and placed his palm flat against your stomach again–no orb this time. Just skin to skin. The glow reacted instantly, blossoming softly under his touch, chasing his palm as your baby moved.

“It’s amazing…” You whispered, still watching the glow as it pulsed gently under your skin. “They’re already so powerful. I can’t imagine how powerful they’re going to be when they’re here.” Sentry smirked, the kind of grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth like he was trying to hold back pride and failing miserably.

“Extremely powerful, probably,” He said, brushing his knuckles gently along the slope of your stomach. “Especially with you as their mother.” His gaze flicked up to meet yours, gold and molten with love. “We’re going to have quite a stubborn child on our hands.” You let out a soft laugh, head falling back slightly against the pillow.

“Hopefully not too stubborn. You’ll have to take care of that part.” You stretched your legs out slowly, giving a little wince as the weight shifted. “They may use their powers on me.” He chuckled, a quiet rumble in his chest as he trailed his hand over your hip.

“We’ll definitely have to teach them not to do that. Clear house rules. No using powers on mom.” You gave him a tired, amused smile as you shifted slightly, catching your breath.

“That’s a perfect rule…But right now I feel like I’m out of breath.”He reached over gently, slipping his arm around your back and shoulder.

“Need me to help you lay on your side?” You nodded, grateful.

“Please.” Sentry adjusted with soft efficiency, like he’d done it a hundred times. He turned you carefully, supporting your belly with one hand as he guided you to lie on your side, facing him. Your knees tucked slightly, his arm still looped protectively around your back as you melted into the mattress.

The baby gave one final, sleepy nudge between you both–soft and glowing–and then went still. You let out a long exhale as your body relaxed, every muscle sighing.

“That’s better…” You whispered, he hummed in agreement, tucking you against him just a little closer. You let your hand drift up to his chest, then up to his collarbone, until your fingers found his soft light brown hair. You twirled a lock around your finger and let your hand settle into the warmth of his scalp, tangling gently in the strands.

“I love you, Sentry,” You murmured. He leaned in slowly and kissed you–soft, lingering, full of things no god had words for.

“I love you too,” He whispered against your lips. “With all my heart and soul. Always and forever, until the sun burns out.” You smiled, pressing your forehead gently to his.

“You always need to top me, hm?” You joked, and a surprised laugh burst out of him, and yours quickly followed, laughter bubbling into the quiet, glowing dark between you.

And that was how the night concluded–two souls curled around a third, surrounded by warmth and stars and laughter, with your hands in his hair and the future glowing just beneath your skin.

[vxnillabxn]

Can I request headcanons for all 5 lads men reacting to his gn crush accidentally confessing to him please?

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚AH, THIS WAS SO FUUUN! btw, xav babies, how are we feeling? he looks even more stunning, i'm in love ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ also, guess whose thesis was approved!!!! (mine, yay!) i'll try to return to my usual posting pace, but please bear w/me— i still have 10+ requests to work on! anyway, love u guys, and thanks for the request, anon.~ ♡

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

he was invited to a christmas dinner, and he obviously asked you to come with him.

sure, he had already planned to bring you as his partner, but if you weren't comfortable with that, he'd simply say you were a close friend of his —which was true.

that same evening, he was getting ready. he looked at himself in the mirror as he fixed his tie, and you just so happened to be at his place.

after all, it'd be easier to go together if you were already with him.

“whaddya think, pips? do i look good, or is it too much?”

he turned to look at you, just as you finished fixing your hair.

when you looked up, you were stunned.

his suit was crisp.

his scent, intoxicating.

his hair, perfectly brushed.

he looked even taller, somehow.

overall, he resembled a romance book character.

he grinned, taking your silence as approval.

he tried to hide how nervous he was by acting smug.

because, in all honesty, he wanted to impress you —only you.

and the fact that he managed to?

made his heart want to explode.

you stepped closer, gently adjusting his coat.

“no, yeah… i mean, you look perfect as is.”

he stared at you, his breath catching slightly.

your fingers grazed the fabric of his coat, and what happened next?

left his knees weak.

“i thought you'd be the lucky one for bringing such a breathtaking partner tonight, lebbie…”

you giggled, then looked up.

“but i think i'll be the lucky one —going with someone i like, and who has great taste, too.”

silence.

on both ends.

and then, you realized what you'd just said.

your eyes widened —but not as much as his.

“i— wait, i meant—!”

you were already stepping back when he instinctively caught your wrist.

the room went quiet again, but this time… it felt different; it felt heavy.

heavy with the words that had slipped out so, so casually.

his heart begged him to kiss you right there.

after all, he felt the same —and had for longer than you'd think.

but his mind tried to keep him grounded. he didn't want to embarrass you, especially knowing you hadn't meant to confess.

maybe you weren't ready to face what you felt. and even if he knew you meant every word…

he wanted you to say it when you were truly ready.

he swallowed hard before smiling.

“i think… we're both lucky to have each other.”

and then, he kissed your cheek.

his lips lingered longer than usual —and you noticed.

of course you noticed.

“ready to go, pips? don't wanna be late because of you!”

he grinned, walking toward the living room.

you took a deep, shaky breath and gave yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your elegant coat.

maybe tonight would be more than you expected.

but you had a feeling it'd be worth it —because the bright red on his cheeks and that soft, loving, dumb smile on his lips made you feel a little better about not being so subtle yourself.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

the tub was filled to the brim.

he had his eyes closed, one hand out to hold his glass of wine, and his body buried under tangerine-scented foam and warm water.

it was his little paradise —yet he felt a bit… lonely.

so, he called you, with a tiny, innocent excuse.

he counted the seconds until you literally kicked the door open, and as if on cue, he opened his eyes.

“ARE YOU OKAY, RAF? WHERE ARE THEY? DID THEY HURT Y—”

ah, yeah.

he might've told you he heard intruders breaking in while he was taking a bath —therefore, he was extra vulnerable.

but again, it was just a small excuse to see your gorgeous face!

…which was tensed up, by the way.

oh, you were livid.

he was smiling from ear to ear, swirling the wine in his glass before extending his wet arms toward you.

“you beat your own record, cutie!”

he was okay.

he was more than okay, actually.

“you… you made me rush for nothing?”

you whisper, stepping closer to the tub, about to strangle him.

he sighs and closes his eyes again.

“uh, obviously not! can't you see this tub is big enough for the two of us? i'm soooo lonely…”

he opens one eye, grinning mischievously.

“do i have to invite you explicitly, or did you get the hint already?”

you take a deep breath, then start removing your sweater.

oh, he peeks up —like an eager puppy.

his cheeks turn pink, his heart threatens to burst…

he's already making space, putting his glass down so he can welcome you with open arms…

before your sweater hits his face.

“you're lucky i like you! i'll unblock your number after you apologize properly and write a seventeen-page self-reflection. goodnight.”

you turn around and slam the door behind you, soon leaving his sight.

he calls after you, then huffs.

well, yeah, he's lucky you like—

…

wait.

you like him?

he stays in the tub for a few seconds, then shoots up and grabs a towel, running after you.

“wait, cutie!”

he nearly slips, but his grip on the towel is tight, and he's determined to stop you.

you're already outside, arms crossed as the cold breeze hits your skin.

he literally runs —unbothered and almost naked— screaming after you.

“hey, hey! do… you like me? you said— AH!”

he stumbles again, then recovers and hugs you from behind, panting.

“ha… cutie… i… crap! you said…”

you freeze the moment his wet arms wrap around you, and there's a soft thud on the ground.

his towel.

rafayel freezes. you freeze.

“cutie—”

“go back inside.”

he stays frozen, face red as a cherry.

“but you—”

“yes, i know what i said, rafayel. and i meant it. but go back inside… please.”

he quickly pulls away, picks up the towel, and starts retreating.

however, he stops by his door.

“for what it's worth, i like you too… a lot. very much, actually. from one to ten, i'd probably say—”

you turn around with burning cheeks to stop him.

“a seventeen-page self-reflection for tomorrow!”

and that's your final word.

you run away from his place, heart thumping more than it should.

this wasn't the confession you expected, but once he formally apologizes, you'll consider giving him the delight of hearing those same three words in a cuter, more romantic way.

right now?

he better beg for it and go to the same lengths he just did —you wouldn't complain if he does it with just a towel around his waist, though.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

sylus already knew you liked him.

no, it wasn't that you were obvious.

it's just that he's so good at picking up subtle changes and gestures, and you just so happened to lean against him when you talked, you tried to avoid staring directly at him, and your eyes always drifted to his lips…

it was only a matter of time before you'd confess… even though he wanted to do it, too.

he would wait, though. unless you explicitly said you wanted him the same way he did, he wouldn't initiate anything —and he was a patient man.

…until the months, and months, and more months passed, and you still didn't confess.

not a word.

not even in secret. you didn't write it in a diary, or talk to your friends about it.

about him.

he couldn't get through to you —at least not in that aspect.

so, as any reasonable man would, he let it go.

you'd come around eventually, and when that happened, he'd reassure you and happily confess back.

it was that simple, and he was satisfied with his made-up plan…

except, that didn't happen.

you ran into each other while he was shopping.

he asked you to stay, you obliged, and now you were browsing through some racks of clothing.

you picked up a long, black coat that could suit him well, and he picked up a gray one —just as long, but not as fancy.

“which one would suit me best, sweetie?”

you weighed both options before pointing at the black one, naturally.

“you'd look good in gray, but… black makes me go even crazier about you.”

you joked, handing him the black coat.

as if you hadn't just confessed that you liked him.

and as if you hadn't left him speechless —which, obviously, was a rare sight.

you wandered around the store, humming to yourself, before suddenly stopping in your tracks.

your mind finally processed what you'd said, and you turned toward sylus, eyes wide and anxiety washing over you like a wave.

you didn't know where to start —or what to say.

should you apologize?

should you pretend it was a misunderstanding?

well, that would be lying —and you knew he'd see right through it.

so… you just stood there awkwardly, avoiding his gaze as you waited for him to speak.

“sweetie.”

he called out, and you looked up at him.

his gaze was soft —not at all like when he teased you for saying something dumb or funny.

his tone was gentle, tentative, like he was reaching out to a scared kitten.

he wanted to say it back, but the words caught in his throat.

something that never happened.

this wasn't how he planned it —and maybe that's exactly what he liked about you.

you always surprised him in the best ways.

“…let's choose something that matches for you.”

he said, taking your hand to guide you to a different section.

he didn't confess back —not when you were clearly panicking and not ready to hear it yet.

instead, he showed his interest the best way he knew how:

by making sure everyone else saw you together, wrapped in matching, stylish coats.

until the day came when he could finally say everything you made him feel —even if it took you more and more months to decide what and when to say just as much.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

you were dumb enough to ask him for help to focus while you studied for a hard test.

you just couldn't seem to concentrate by yourself, and you needed some backup, so you called him to sit by your side and help you stay away from your phone and other distractions.

it worked pretty well at first…

until he started distracting you.

“hm, i don't think that's correct…”

he mumbles, getting way too close.

“isn't that one supposed to be multiple choice?”

he keeps pointing at the screen and the slides you're reviewing.

“ah, that's easy. that theory actually—”

you have to stop him.

you gently take his hand and pull it away.

“xav, you do know i'm the one supposed to take the test, right?”

he just looks at you with those big, almost clueless eyes.

“if you want to help me study, let me review the content first, and then i'll let you ask me some questions, okay?”

you smile, trying not to sound harsh.

he nods and leans back, now silently watching you.

you swear it only takes about thirty minutes.

and once you finally feel confident with what you've learned, you turn to him.

“okay xav, bring it—”

your words trail off when you notice he's fallen asleep right beside you.

you chuckle softly, cocking your head to the side.

you hesitantly reach out to fix a stray strand of hair from his forehead, thinking about how adorable he is —and how much you like him.

or well, at least you thought you kept it in your head.

but when one of his eyes flutters open and he smiles… you realize you said it out loud.

you quickly lean back and clear your throat, pointing at the screen.

“i… i'm ready to study with you.”

he just stretches his arms and nods, then leans against you as he prepares to ask questions.

you're mortified —not just because you basically confessed, but because he isn't saying anything about it.

shouldn't he at least be surprised? or reject you if he doesn't feel the same…?

what's going through his head?

his calm expression doesn't help. you can't read his thoughts, and you have no idea what's coming next.

he starts asking some basic theory questions, looking at you while you answer.

his eyes, though, keep darting to your lips.

no matter if you stammer, pause to think, or nervously lick your lips —he's staring.

and you're not even sure if he's listening, because he only nods after each answer, not saying if you're right or wrong.

“so, that would be the letter ‘c', right?”

“mhm.”

“that means the previous question was wrong, xav?”

“mhm.”

hehe, interesting…

“…is lumiere better than you?”

“mhm.”

you grin, and he frowns slightly, leaning back.

“hey…”

he reaches out to flick your forehead, and you quickly chuckle and apologize.

the silence feels comfortable now, but…

he's dangerously close again, watching over your shoulder as you move on to the next question.

and all of a sudden, his breath fans over your ear.

“i like you too.”

words get caught in your throat.

and when you try to turn toward him, he stops you.

“don't get distracted. tell me the answer to number six.”

truly, you were dumb enough to ask him for help.

but even dumber for thinking you could be so careless —without him turning you into a miserable, flustered mess.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

zayne was used to you “bothering” him when he was at work.

so, it wasn't a surprise to find you sitting in front of his desk, using his laptop for who knows what.

he cleared his throat to get your attention, and he regretted it the moment he saw your mischievous smile.

“ah, doctor zayne!”

you stood up and approached with quick steps, poking his sides with your index finger.

“i wanted to ask you something!”

he braced himself for whatever was about to come out of your mouth this time.

“so, i was with some friends, and we were talking about some stuff… and we started talking about marriage!”

he looks at you as he takes off his coat and hangs it beside the door, soon putting on his glasses before finally sitting down.

“and i remembered when we promised each other we'd get married if we were still single —and remained friends— by forty!”

he is perplexed. why bring it up now? neither of you is forty yet, and that promise was made when you were kids.

“are you willing to keep your word, zaynie? or did you forget?”

you ask, trying to tease him.

after all, if you remember correctly, he was the one who proposed the idea —and you just had to seal it with your pinky finger.

“you have… such interesting inquiries these days. i honestly can't say whether that is or isn't plausible.”

he genuinely answers, starting to close all the game tabs you opened on his laptop.

“well, okay, i still think it's a good idea! not only would i be marrying a doctor, buuuut i'd be marrying someone i actually know! plus, we don't have to kiss or like, do anything icky! we can be roomies!”

he freezes in his spot, looking up at you with a dumbfounded expression.

honestly, what's gotten into you?

he fixes his tie, which suddenly feels way too tight around his neck.

“can you please… stop rambling? you're making no sense.”

he sternly asks, though you catch a bit of desperation in his strained voice.

you approach him with a playful smile.

“at least think about it! i personally think it's the best plan ever. i mean, it's not like i'd be marrying someone i don't like or don't find attractive, because i'd be marrying you!”

you smile.

he doesn't.

and then, your smile disappears too.

did you just…?

yeah, you just did.

he looks back at the screen, then turns his chair around.

why?

to hide the outrageous blush covering his entire face, ears, and neck.

hell, even his steady, cardiac surgeon hands are shaking.

“zayne, no, i… i was just… i was just rambling!”

you try to fix it, but both of you know it's too late.

he knows you like him —now it's time for you to know he likes you too.

he takes a few seconds to compose himself, and to think about how he'll proceed.

he finally turns around and looks into your eyes, pushing his glasses against the bridge of his nose.

“about the promise…” he starts, before looking away. “let's not wait until our forties.”

you are confused, anxious, embarrassed —and hearing his mumbled words doesn't help much either.

“what? what does that—”

“let's give it one year.”

and he's serious. he is now looking back into your eyes, his tone flat yet honest.

one year —that's it.

that's all he's willing to wait for.

though the “both of us have to be single” part can't be fulfilled, because he's already planning how to ask you out…

and how to fulfill the childish wedding ideas he always dreamt of, with you.

[avocad1s]

Hello! I really love your works! I am writing to ask for a scenario involving the creator, still being with Capitano in Natlan, feels/sees Capitano's face unmasked for the first time? In 5.1 Capitano explained that his face is likely unrecognizable due to the rot and I was just hoping to read some fluff where the creator accepts him as he is or maybe heals him somehow? Anyways feel free to ignore this of it is something your not interested in! Thanks again!

Note: My love for Capitano has only grown. I don’t think I will ever mentally recover if he isn’t playable. And thank you so much for the support anon! Also sorry for the long wait! I got caught up in BG3 so I haven’t been playing Genshin lmao

Some spoilers for Natlan! You’ve been warned!

Could be seen as a part two to this, but could also be read as a standalone piece.

You’re starting to believe this wasn’t a dream anymore.

Days had passed since you encountered the Fatui in the woods of Natlan and have been staying in Capitano’s tent. Although you know time in Genshin passed differently than in real life, everything just felt too real.

You could feel the heat of fire on your skin, taste the food Capitano gave to you, feel the weight of his coat on your shoulders when he would drape it over you when you were cold. It didn’t matter what you would ask for, Capitano or his subordinates would get it for you.

However, it seemed like the only thing you couldn’t ask for was to go to the stadium or any of the tribes. Capitano always stating it was too dangerous for you there but he promised to fix it— to fix your world for you.

You dropped the topic for the moment, although you were incredibly disappointed not to get a first look at Natlan’s citizens. You didn’t want to just leave Capitano’s campsite, not after everything he’s done for you.

Yet not matter how kind and caring the Captian was to you, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was always obscured by his helmet, you could only take his words at face value even though you were sure you could hear the genuine tone in his voice.

When it came to eating, drinking, bathing or tending whatever wounds he had underneath his armor, he would never take it off in front of you. Always doing it in private. You’ve asked his subordinates about it but they seemed just as curious about it as you were.

Just like every night, Capitano brings you a plate of food. He didn’t let anyone else handle anything you would digest, maybe he was being too paranoid.

“Capitano?” You call out.

The Capitan’s footsteps immediately cease, although he hadn’t turned around to look at you it was clear you had his full attention.

“Yes?” He hesitates for a moment before speaking your name. You hated being called ‘Your Grace’ or any other formality and asked him to call you by your real name. You wonder just how flustered he was when you asked considering he stumbled over his words and asked to be excused afterwards.

“How come you never take off your helmet?”

A long silence fills the tent once the question leaves your lips. He doesn’t move nor speak as you stare at his back. You shift slightly on your seat, feeling a sense of discomfort crawl up your spine. Did you anger him? The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. He’s been a great host to you.

“Uhm— sorry I shouldn’t have asked.” You say, immediately backtracking.

Capitano shakes his head, his long raven hair flowing effortlessly behind him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just I—“

He sighs, “—you will not like what you see.”

Your eyes widen at his statement as Capitano turns to face you. “As you know, I’m from Khaenri’ah and this…”

He looks down at his gloved hand, balling it into a fist. “… This curse of immortality has prevented me from dying but my body continues to age. Due to the rot, I no longer look how I used to 500 years ago.”

‘So he’s like Dain…’ you think to yourself as you stare up at him silently.

Capitano wastes no time to kneel in front of you bringing his hands up to his helmet. “But you’re my Creator, if you wish to look upon my face, I will not object.”

“Wait…” you place a hand on top of his and the Captain stops.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wish, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Capitano lets out a sound, it almost sounded like a low chuckle. “There’s nothing you could ask me to do that would make me uncomfortable. Serving you is my greatest pleasure.”

Capitano’s helmet is released with a small hiss then he pulls it off fully letting it rest in his palms.

You suck in a breath as you gaze falls upon his face. Different parts of it were at different processes of decay, it only made you wonder if this condition caused him any pain.

“I— I’m sorry…” are the first words to slip past your lips.

He shakes his head. “You have no reason to apologize, it’s not your fault.”

“Does it… hurt?” You murmur.

Capitano gives you a smile, a genuine one that reaches his eyes.

“Nothing that I’m not used to already.” He states.

You could feel your heart sink at his words. He’s been dealing with this for centuries, dealing with the weight of his home being destroyed and he still wants to do everything for you. This must be a great burden to bear.

Capitano on the other hand, watches your expression intensely. You’re not speaking. Did his face disgust you? Of course it did, he’d be a fool to think anything else.

Insecurity wasn’t something he’d ever felt before, at least not something he could remember. Capitano was confident in his strength and even in his worship for you. But having you look on his face, not being able to fully interpret your expression, he could only feel dread in his chest. What if you don’t want to be under his care anymore? Maybe sending you off to Snezhnaya with his colleagues would be a good idea.

Capitano clears his throat and moves to put his helmet back on.

“Wait!” You call out and he stops.

“You don’t have to…” You voice almost comes out as a whisper. “… Cover up your face I mean.”

He raises a brow. “My face doesn’t disgust you?”

You shake your head. “Of course not. I… like looking at your face. You have gorgeous eyes.”

The Captain quickly looks away from you, his dark hair shielding his flustered face. “…I— Im grateful for that…” he stammers.

After gathering himself he turns to look at you again. You were smiling at him, not a degrading smile, but one filled with amusement and fondness. He’d do anything to keep this for himself, no one else knew you descended, perhaps he could be selfish for just a bit longer.

Note: So if I read correctly, based on genshin wiki, I think Mika’s voice lines, Capitano should have deep blue eyes? I think…? I have no idea ☠️

© avocad1s 2024

[deathbxnny]

Can you do how the arcane characters would react to you having a Panic attack/panick attacks

Arcane characters reacting to you having a panic attack! | Caitlyn, Sevika, Jinx, Vi x Gn!Reader

Thank you for your request, Anon! I absolutely loved writing this, so I hope you'll enjoy it!<33

Content: Panic attacks, fluff, swearing, established relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAITLYN

Her first instinct is to immideatly take you somewhere safe and private when she notices the panic attack approaching. She has very good intuition and has observed you for long enough to know your cues and signs, but sometimes even her own senses about you fail her during acute attacks that come out of nowhere. This doesn't mean that you can't rely on her to take care of you anyway.

"Hey, hey... let's breathe together, okay? Alright. Deep breathe in... hold it... and now release slowly... good job, let's do it again."

She's very quick to react to your needs and usually tries to regulate your breathing first before anything else, as that's how she learned to deal with them in her medical training. Caitlyn will also try and keep some distance in between you two in case you need space and only come closer once you're ready for that. She's very gentle and patient, as she soothes away your fears and worries.

Later on, she'll gently hold you and spoil you with nice food whilst you finally calm down and rest. Cait won't ever push you to tell her what triggered you, but will encourage you to tell her how she can help you better next time. Something she'll probably write down somewhere for future reference for better efficiency.

》SEVIKA

The first time it happens to you around her, she'll admittedly be a little surprised. It's not like she hadn't seen panic attacks before, but she simply just never had to deal with them before. With that said, her first instinct is to wonder if someone had bothered you and, if so, how quick she can beat them up for hurting you like this. The last thing she wants is for someone to ruin that beautiful smile of yours, and the sight of you suffering like that makes her feel uneasy.

"Alright, tell me what you need, and I'll do it for you right now. I just... fuck, tell me how to help you, sweetheart."

Sevika will lean down to your level after also taking you somewhere private so that she can let her guard down in peace and focus on you. She's not good at comforting people no matter who you are, and she's certainly also not the most affectionate person out there. But she knows to keep her distance and focus on what you need from her in that moment. Your hyperventilating and short breaths worry her, but that's nothing she can't handle with some direction from you.

After the panic attack blows over, she'll demand a detailed list of what exactly she should do better next time. She doesn't like being unprepared, especially when it comes to your care and well-being.

》JINX

She has memorized absolutely everything about you and is the first person to notice when a panic attack is coming up, which makes her the best helper out there at that moment. Jinx immideatly springs into action and brings you to her hideout, where she knows things are safe and sound. No one can hurt you here, especially not with her around. She'll sit on the ground with you and take your hands in her own carefully. The girl doesn't make any sudden moves and just observes every reaction you make very closely, practically analyzing them to know what to do next. And her voice would be so calm and soothing whilst she speaks.

"It's alright, cuddlebug. No one's laying a hand on ya whilst I'm here... so let's just breathe together."

Jinx doesn't want you to feel alone whilst you're going through this and will be right there with you until the last of your tears have been shed. Afterward, she'll either cuddle you to sleep or get you something nice to eat. Either way, you're being treated like royalty by her, just because she doesn't want you to feel like she did when she still had to suffer through everything all on her own. Having you here is a blessing, and taking care of you was a way to pay you back for it.

》VI

Despite what people may think, Vi's intuition about other people has never failed her. She always feels so deeply for others. It isn't all too surprising when she is quick to notice your mood shifting drastically out of nowhere. Once the panic attacks start, she'll have enough past experiences to take care of you as well as she can. It may not always be perfect due to her inability to express her love and affection all too well in moments of panic, but she'll still pull through for you. Getting you out of danger and into a more secluded area, she'll wrap her jacket around your shoulders and try soothing your quick breathing.

"Hey, hey, hey, let's calm down, okay? I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you."

She may honestly slightly panic herself, especially as seeing you so distraught messes with her own emotions, too. Vi hates to see you suffer, and the last thing she wants is for you to potentially get hurt if you don't calm down.

Vi will most likely ask you what she can do better next time as well, since she secretly feels a bit disappointed in herself for not being able to do more for you. But she's open to learning how to be perfect for you next time, that's for sure.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Sergei Kravinoff x mutant fem!reader

Summary: Sergei is captured and his only source of salvation and light is the young woman who visits him every day to bring him food and heal his wounds.

Genre: hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: reader has healing abilities, kidnapping, torture, blood, violence, drugging, shitty men, protective!Sergei

~ thank you 💜anon for this idea! i didn't make it smut but i hope you like it anyways ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

The Hunter. They'd captured The Hunter by. 

That was all you knew from the hushed whispers as they guarded your door. His name caused excitement around the compound and your curiosity was piqued. You stand from your small cot, limping over as the blood from your leg spills from the bandages. You press your palm against your door, catching snippets of the conversation in Russian, as you hold your breath. 

When you hear the latch to your door snap, you stumble back. The man with the scar enters, a smirk on his face. "Ah, you're up. Good. We have a new guest. You know what to do," he walks over and caresses your cheek, causing you to flinch, and he glances down at your leg. "And don't let him get close to you, not like the last one. Understand, pet? Cleaning you up was a fuckin' mess."

You nod, earning you a light tap on your cheek as he gestures for his men to come in with a tray of food.

The Hunter's cell is grim and dark, the drip of water from the ceiling is heard in the corner. Your eyes widen when you see him. He's suspended from his arms, rusty chains digging into his skin. He's shirtless, scratches and gashes of various stages litter his back and shoulders. He's breathing deeply as you walk in. He turns his head a little, catching your eyes and he lets out a sharp laugh, spitting out more blood.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He coughs up more blood, seeing the food on the tray. You circle to the front, resting the tray on the ground as you look up at him again. "They send you in to do the dirty work, принцесса (princess)?" 

You don't answer him, instead glancing at the security of the chains holding him. They're strong. Unbreakable you would guess and you look into his eyes again. You tear some of the bread and stand up, walking closer. Unlike many other prisoners, this one doesn't immediately lunge for you. He seems to be keeping his strength, simply observing your movements. You hold out the bread for him to bite out of your hand, but he spits blood at your shoes instead. 

"I don't need your food," he growls and tugs on the chains, turning his torso as he hisses in pain. You see a large gash on his side and your expression softens. You're here to heal him, at least so he doesn't die until he gives them the information they want.   

"I can help," you whisper, walking forward and reaching your hand to touch his side. The man inhales, readying himself to push you down—to do anything. He doesn't trust you. However, that plan falls through when he sees a glimpse of the bruising on your cheek. Someone has already hit you. He falters and then he gasps when your cold hand presses against the wound. 

"Shh," you soothe, bracing yourself, "this will only hurt for a moment. I promise."

"What are you—"

He grunts, feeling something sting and turns his head as best he can, twisting his torso. You pull your hand away, revealing the mostly healed wound. It's still badly bruised and you explain; "I can't heal the bruising. I c-can only help the process."

You sound scared of him and he looks back over to you, eyes dark. You just healed him. He looks at your hand and he sees that they're shaking. His eyebrows scrunch as he examines you. You're breathing heavily, looking exhausted. 

It drained you. 

Suddenly, there is a loud bang on the door, and a man's voice booms into the room and orders you back out in Russian. You catch your breath, holding out the bread for the man to take. You still want him to eat at least a little. Once he reluctantly eats the bread from your hand, you grab the tray and hurry out the door. 

The man hears the shout and he grimaces, pulling on his chains again. The wound doesn't hurt as much and his head is reeling from what had just happened. 

Who were you?

* * *

The next time Sergei sees you, he's chained to the wall, blood trickling down the side of his head. He hears the door enter and he smells you instantly. You smell sweet, not like the men who come in who stink of death and sweat. He turns his head, cracking a smile, as blood drips from his mouth. You set the tray down, kneeling in front of him on the dirty ground. Sergei's smile drops when he sees more bruising around your cheeks. They're hurting you too. His blood boils and he tries to fight against the chains once more, his body weak. 

He watches you silently as you take a syringe from the tray. Your hand is trembling and you look up at him. He knows what the liquid is, usually the men administer it when they torture him. It weakens him, making it impossible for him to break the chains that hold him in place. He growls like a hurt animal and you rest your hand on his arm. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, testing the syringe as the green liquid pours out and drips onto the ground. "They think you'll put up less of a fight if it's me—" 

Sergei narrows his eyes, the gold irises flickering underneath the surface, and he snarls; "Don't do this," he says but you gently push his head to the side, your hand on his forehead as you sink the needle into his neck. He grunts. No wonder the men are asking you to do this; it's dangerous for you. He could easily turn his head and bite you in this position. Usually, they prick him in the leg or somewhere safe that still works, but not as well as it could. They're becoming impatient it seems and they're now willing to turn you into a pawn. Perhaps, that's the reason he doesn't hurt you. He knows what that's like.

"I'm really sorry," you sob, holding his head as your hand trembles even more. Once the liquid is gone, you pull away. He looks calmer now, the drug already working. You drop the syringe and break some more bread. "Please eat," you whisper, pressing the stale bread to his lips, as if trying to counteract the drug by feeding him.    

He opens his eyes, reluctantly listening to you as he eats a bite. "They're hurting you too," he says and you shift uncomfortably, avoiding his intense glare. "Why? And why can't you heal yourself?" He'd noticed your limp the moment you walked and smelled the blood from your knee, even underneath your pants. You're injured. 

You sit back, touching the bruising along your eye, and look up at him. "You aren't the only prisoner they give that horrid liquid to," you whisper, looking at the syringe and then tilting your head and showing him the needle mark on your neck. "They like m-my ability, but only in moderation—"

Sergei groans, his chest burning with anger. He shakes his head when he sees you begin to clean up. "Who? Who are they?! Who has me!? I can help you—if you—wait—stop—" he watches you walk out helplessly. He groans again from the pain in his side as he shifts his position. Sergei realizes you haven't healed him today. He supposes that would go against the point of the fucking drug. 

Hours later, when he finally falls asleep, all he dreams of is you. 

* * *

"What is your name?" Sergei asks one evening as you run a warm cloth on his face, wiping away the dried blood from the beating he'd received. He hasn't cracked yet, not that he will. You startle a little, not expecting him to ask you that question. You glance up, meeting his gaze, and you whisper your name. 

"Kraven," he introduces. He wants to tell you his real name, but he doesn't know if he can fully trust you. Sergei winces when you swipe your hand across a cut on his cheek, healing the small wound. He pulls against the chains keeping his arms up. He groans, realizing it's useless. "How long have you been here, Y/n?"

You move to rub the cloth on his bare torso, going even quieter. "A year."

"Do you have a family?"

You shrug, turning away and preparing that damned drug again. The men have given up administering it and have charged you with that task instead. Sergei grimaces and when you look up, your hand gently turning his head like it always does, he doesn't fight you. Instead, he whispers, "Y/n, don't give it to me. I can get us both out of here. I won't hurt you. I promise." He's not entirely sure how long he's been here but he's desperate now. He locks eyes with you, almost pleasing. 

You wrap your arm around his nape, shifting and your voice shakes when you whisper, "They're watching. There is a camera— it can't hear us but it can see us." 

Sergei winces, feeling you prepare the syringe; however, he pauses when he looks to the side and sees that the needle is near the bare skin of your arm, the one covering his nape. "They make sure it's g-gone, this is the only way. Will your powers regenerate in one night?"

Sergei nods, his blue eyes are wide and he's a little alarmed when you administer the drug to yourself.

"They're watching us. Please, you have to pretend I gave it to you if you want this to work." 

"Will the drug hurt you?" he asks, knowing you're purposefully hiding what you're doing to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. 

You shake your head, pulling away and hiding the mark on your arm with your sleeve. "No– I just won't be able to use my powers for a while. It's okay. That's all it does. That's what it's been doing to you—weakening you." You gather your supplies with shaking hands as Sergei breathes heavily, keeping his body calm as you said. 

"I won't let them hurt you again," Sergei promises before you leave. You turn around to look at him, your eyes sad, as he whispers, "I'll find you, принцесса (princess)."

* * * 

"Wake up, Hunter." Sergei hears a loud bang as a metal pipe slams against the wall near his head. His eyes shoot open, his body not feeling as weak anymore and his gaze locks onto the two men who've been torturing him these past days. His eyes narrow and his hand twitches in the chains but his heart leaps when one of the men, the one with the scar on his lip, pulls you from behind the other man, his hand in your hair. "We have some exciting news," the man sings-songs and adds, "since ya seem so fond of each other."

Sergei's eyes frantically bounce from your scared expression to the men holding you, his jaw clenching. 

"Since you don't quite break when we break you, we must change our method, you understand," the other man laughs, unsheathing a knife and running it in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, controlling your breathing. "Now, if you continue not to give us anything, we'll just have to break your little girlfriend instead. And," the man laughs, "we promise with the damage we'll cause she won't have time to heal herself—"

Sergei's eyes narrow. The men are too busy laughing at the tears that fall from your eyes to notice the glimmer of gold behind his irises—but you do. You hold your breath, unsure what's about to happen but you know it can't be good considering that the drug you'd been giving him for the past week had faded so quickly. Sergei licks his lips, his sharp fangs showing for a second before he lunges for the men, the chains previously holding him easily ripping. 

You gasp, falling to the ground as you grasp the floor, scooting to the opposite side of the room, pressing your back to the wall as you watch as Kraven tears into one of the men's throats, growling like an animal would. You scream, covering your eyes with shaky hands as gunshots ring out and you hear more growls and ripping.  

Once the scream stops, you feel someone's presence over you. You peek through your fingers, your gaze stuck on the splatter of blood across his features. His eyes have returned to their normal blue and he crouches down, like an animal showing its submission as his knuckles skim your cheeks and wipe away your tears.

"Are you okay?" He mutters, his voice hoarse. You nod hesitantly and when he scoops his hand under your knees and your back, you accept and wrap your arms around his neck. 

"I'm here," he whispers. 

Your hands tremble and you nod, finding your voice as you squeeze your eyes shut again so you don't see the lifeless bodies he'd left in his wake as he walks to the exit. However, you can't bring yourself to feel pity; those men had tortured him. And they'd tortured you for even longer. "Thank you, Kraven," you say quietly and he holds you tighter. 

"Sergei," he says, "My name is Sergei."

You hum, resting your eyes as your head falls onto his chest. When you open your eyes again, you're in a truck. Sergei is on the phone, talking in Russian, and you understand snippets of his conversation. You're buckled in, your head resting on the passenger window as the headlights from the other cars blind you. You groan, your head is pounding. "You slept for hours, is that normal,  принцесса (princess)?" Sergei asks, putting his phone in his pocket as he continues to drive. 

"Where are we?"

"Russia," Sergei says and he looks at you with a worried expression, "We've always been in Russia—did you not know where they were holding you?" You shake your head, a little embarrassed. You really didn't know. Sergei clicks his tongue and runs a hand over his face. He's cleaned himself up, the blood is gone and he looks in much better form. He senses you staring and he looks over, "I made some calls. My brother—he has connections," he tells you, explaining the truck. 

"Where are you taking me?" you ask quietly. 

Sergei's eyes narrow. "My home," he pauses, "just so you can rest, I'm not sure how long that drug will last on you, but once you're better, I can take you home."

"Home," you whisper and look down at your lap, picking at your nails. "I have no home."

Sergei is quiet as he looks at the road again. "Well, you can stay with me then. I'll take care of you." 

Silence looms over you as the truck rolls along icy roads, the hum of the engine filling the air. You glance at Sergei again, your gaze softening. He looks different now—calmer, more composed, less weak and frazzled. His knuckles are no longer bloodied, his breaths even now, and yet, there is something simmering underneath, like a fire that hasn't quite burned out.

"You really don't have to do that," you tell him, staring out the window. "You have already done enough."

He just chuckles, low and rough. "Enough? I went through hell, принцесса (princess), I'm not stopping now." He glances at you, his eyes sharp as they lock onto yours and his voice almost wavers when he says. "You saved me first. I owe you."

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond. He sounds so serious, as if nothing you say would sway him. You decide not to speak. Your body is heavy with exhaustion, the aftermath of the drug still dulling your senses. You sigh and shut your eyes, leaning your head against the window again as the lights from outside lull you asleep.

Once the truck finally stops, you wake to the sound of Sergei opening your door. Snow crunches under his boots as he reaches in and effortlessly lifts you into his arms again, ignoring your half-hearted protests. 

"Stop fussing, will you," he mutters, his voice softer now. "You're still weak."

The large house he carries you into is cool, the scent of pine and something faintly sweet greeting you. It's a small but comfortable cabin, filled with old family trinkets and photos of a family of four; two young boys sitting on their mother's knee.

Sergei wordlessly sets you down on a couch, draping a blanket over your shoulders before crouching and starting a well-needed fire. Once the flames crackle, he turns and his hands hover over your knees, uncertain, as if he's not surewhere to begin. 

Finally, he lifts his arms and brushes some hair back from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Rest," he commands. His tone is calm and serious but the corners of his mouth twitch upward as if he's hiding a small smile. "I will make us food."

You still don't say a word as you watch him retreat to the kitchen, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in a long while. The danger is gone, replaced with a warmth you haven't felt. You glance around the room and you realize that for the first time in a long long time, you feel completely safe.

You smile softly, watching the fire burn and listening to Sergei walk around the kitchen. 

[psformybss]

What about something with secret fiancé reader where she’s very pregnant and they are at an OBX thing and Drew is just so loving and supportive and dotting on her and everything. No pressure to do this, just a thought, totally under stand if you don’t want to.

Let Me, Baby

series masterlist

warnings: pregnancy mention, fluff, third trimester softness, drew being doting, domestic vibes, casual dialogue, obx cast dinner

an: i love this idea so much, thank you anon! this lowkey inspired me to write a little blurb for like each month of her pregnancy so i’ll probably post that soon i just gotta finish it lol

By the time they pulled up to Madelyn’s place, the porch lights were glowing and music was already drifting out from somewhere inside.

She unbuckled her seatbelt with a grin. “I swear, if JD didn’t bring his mac and cheese, I’m walking out.”

Drew was already out of the car and opening her door before she could even reach for the handle. “You’re not walking anywhere. I’ll carry you to the kitchen myself if I have to.”

She rolled her eyes, but took his hand anyway. “I’m not that pregnant.”

“You’re in the third trimester,” he said, steadying her with one hand on her back. “You’re not lifting a finger tonight. Or walking more than ten feet.”

“I did laundry, walked the dog, and vacuumed today,” she pointed out as they made their way up the front steps.

“And I offered to do all of that,” he said, holding the door open. “I was overruled.”

Inside, Madelyn’s place smelled amazing—something garlicky and warm—and laughter came from the kitchen. Carlacia was leaning on the counter drinking a Topo Chico while Chase and JD were pretending to help her cook. Madison waved from the couch, bowl of chips in her lap.

Madelyn came over first, grinning. “Look who finally made it.”

“Traffic,” Drew said like an excuse, even though they lived ten minutes away.

Madelyn hugged her, then looked her up and down. “You look so good. Seriously, you’re glowing.”

“She always looks good,” Drew said, kissing her temple like it was second nature.

“I can hear you,” she muttered with a grin as she kicked off her sneakers.

“Let me—” Drew was already scooping them up before she bent down. “I got it. Go sit, I’ll bring you food.”

“I just walked in the door.”

“Exactly. That’s enough effort for one night.”

Madison snorted from the couch. “He’s been like this the whole time?”

“Worse,” she said, waddling (fine, maybe a tiny bit) over to the couch. “He tried to carry my water bottle to the bathroom this morning.”

“She was carrying laundry at the same time!”

“You were still brushing your teeth!”

“I’m efficient,” Drew said, appearing again with a throw pillow that he fluffed and wedged behind her back. “You comfy?”

“I was fine until you started fussing.”

“I’m not fussing,” he said, adjusting the blanket on her lap. “I’m taking care of my girl. Big difference.”

Chase popped his head around the kitchen door. “You two are disgusting. I mean that in a loving way.”

“Let them be gross,” Carlacia said, stealing a chip. “She deserves it. She’s carrying a whole human.”

“She reminds me every day,” Drew said, heading back toward the kitchen. “But still makes her own coffee like a rebel.”

“Because I like doing things for myself!”

“Yeah, and I like doing things for you,” he said over his shoulder. “So let me win once in a while.”

She leaned her head back against the couch, smiling. “If you weren’t cute this would be so annoying.”

Madison grinned. “Nah, you love it.”

She did. He came back a few minutes later with a plate that looked like it had been carefully constructed by someone with a culinary arts degree.

“I got the corner of the lasagna, no onions in the salad, and one of JD’s muffins before they all disappeared,” he said, handing it over like it was made of gold.

She blinked at the plate. “Are you psychic?”

“Just observant,” he said, then flopped down beside her and gently lifted her feet into his lap. “Eat. Hydrate. Relax.”

“Who are you,” JD muttered, walking by with a soda. “And how do I get someone like you in my life?”

“Grow a uterus,” Drew deadpanned.

Dinner was loud and easy, everyone talking over each other and arguing about whether JD or Carlacia made the better pasta dish. Drew made her another plate without asking and refilled her drink twice before she could even notice she needed it.

When they all moved out onto the patio afterward, she stretched out on one of the benches and Drew sat down, immediately tugging her feet back into his lap like it was his job.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing slow circles into her calves.

“Mhm,” she said around a yawn. “Still got some energy left, I’m not crashing yet.”

“Let me know when you hit that wall,” he murmured. “I’ll get you home fast.”

She opened one eye to look at him. “You know you don’t have to do everything, right?”

“I know,” he said with a small smile. “But I want to.”

Carlacia wandered over and sat beside them. “You two are kind of unfair, by the way.”

“What, ‘cause he treats me like royalty?” she joked.

“Exactly. Now my standards are all messed up.”

“He’s setting the bar,” she teased, nudging Drew with her foot.

Drew leaned down and kissed her knee. “Just taking care of my girl.”

“Okay, ew,” Chase called from across the patio. “Can’t y’all save that for not a group hang?”

“Don’t be mad just ‘cause your love language is roast battles,” Madison said, tossing a pillow at him.

Eventually, she started to fade a little—nothing dramatic, just the usual post-dinner slump—and Drew noticed without her saying a word.

“You ready?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and let him help her up, even though she didn’t need it. He held her hand all the way to the car, carried her leftovers, and made sure she was buckled before even starting the engine.

As they drove off, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re sweet, you know that?”

“I better be,” he said, lacing their fingers on the console. “You’re doing the hard part.”

She laughed. “Pretty sure you’ve carried 80% of the workload tonight.”

“And I’d do it again tomorrow.”

Her smile stretched wider as she looked out at the road. “Yeah. I know.”

taglist: @maybankslover

[vinylmango]

Hi I was the anon with the request so this was my idea

The reader is a Black woman who lives alone on the outskirts of town. She’s always heard stories whispers of creatures that roam the woods at night. She doesn’t believe all of them, but she knows enough to trust her instincts.One night, Remmick shows up at her door. There’s something off about him, and she can tell. She doesn’t let him in but plays along, tricking him into slipping up, testing him with questions. It becomes a game. Every night, he returns. She keeps her distance, but there’s an undeniable connection growing between them. The more he visits, the more vulnerable he becomes. She sees a loneliness in him, something broken but still human.Then one night, he comes to her burned and bloody, barely standing. Without thinking, she rushes out to help him. As she brings him inside, he jokes weakly, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?” She looks into his eyes and simply says, “No. I trust you.”Something inside him changes. For the first time in years, he craves more than blood he craves connection.As she cleans his wounds, his vampire side begins to slip through. He tries to hide it, ashamed, but she touches his face and tells him it’s okay. She’s not afraid. She sees him. And when he leans in for a kiss she returns it, without hesitation.

Don't Hide From Me Remmick x black!fem!reader

Word count: 5k Warnings: blood, vampirism, brief mentions of: KKK, cheating/loser ex-husband, killing, guns

Note: Yay! My first request! Thank you anon! Sorry, this is kinda long and also took me longer than I planned because I restarted it about three times 😀 Unrelated, but I also just watched Little Fish for the first time yesterday and omg that movie hurts beautifully lol.

Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you like it! Feel free to send in more requests or just say hi. My inbox is open and the list of who I write for is on my pinned nav post.

masterlist

The screen door rattled against the wooden frame, the wood had begun to warp after the last big rainstorm, but the door still worked all the same. “Well, you grew into a beauty, didn’t you?” You hummed cutting a few bunches of herbs, planning on drying them out in the summer sun, the rays starting to beam down on everything below it. Stopping on the porch, you looked out to the woods, the trees and overgrowth so thick in parts that light couldn’t even touch the ground, much less give you visibility into the depths. You strung up the herbs to begin drying, heading back inside to do some other chores before you were heading off to pay Annie a visit. 

You didn’t arrive back home from Annie's until the last rays of the sun were bleeding orange into the purple sky that was growing darker and darker by the minute. Stars began to dot the sky, twinkling in the still night. “You better get home. There’s unnatural things in those woods. Things that you can’t even imagine.” Annie’s words echoed in your mind as you latched the screen door closed upon entering and setting your things down. You opened it once more to light the oil lamp that had once shone a bright silver but now was weather worn and rusted. The flame caught, dancing in its little cage as it cast dim yellow light out into the darkness, shadows dancing on the wood and grass.

“Hm.” You dialed through the radio stations attempting to find one that came through clearly, but it seemed like there wouldn’t be one. You settled on one that only faded in and out slightly, the crackling and faint hum of music was a nice change from the silence. You sang along to the radio, spinning around your living room. 

Three loud knocks wrapped against the wood, pulling you from your moment as you quickly crossed the living room, shutting the radio off and going towards the door when the knocks sounded again, though quieter this time, not as incessant. “Yes?” You questioned, opening the solid door just enough to look through, the screen door acting as a barrier between yourself and the outside world. 

A man stood on the other side, shoulders squared and broad, hands in his dark wool pants pockets. He looked up when the door creaked open, dark eyes shining in the warm candlelight that reached out around you past the door. 

“You have a real nice voice.” His voice was gravely and his words flowed slowly like he had all the time in the world. You remained quiet, dark eyes looking over the figure that still managed to keep most of himself cloaked in the darkness of the porch, the places where the moonlight didn’t quite reach. “I don’t mean to frighten you, Ma’am. I just had to tell you.” He nodded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you.

“Thank you.” You looked around behind him. It was times like these that you wished you lived closer to town, closer to neighbors. The night was still and silent and the woods around were too dark to make out the shadows. “Why’re you out here?”

He looked behind himself before he looked back at you. “I was just walkin’.”

“This far out from town?” Your eyebrows furrowed as he shrugged, hands still lazily in his pockets and a crooked smile on his pale face. 

“It’s quiet out here.” He states. “Good for thinkin’.” You nodded, stepping back and closing the door a little more. 

“Too quiet sometimes.” His eyes raked over you with an unreadable expression that made a chill wrap around your spine and settle into your limbs. He looked at you like he knew you and he acted like he’d been in the area for a while with the way he seemed to stand rather comfortably on your porch, the wood creaking below him at his change of stance. “How long you been walkin’ for?”

“Not long. I only just started.” He took a breath but the way his chest rose and fell seemed too labored, as if for a split second he had just finished sprinting a full length marathon. There was something about it that didn’t look involuntary. His breath changed a second later, his shoulders rising and falling in a more normal pattern. Maybe he was sick with something? “You play any music?”

“Sir, it’s 10 o’clock in the evening.” You frowned after glancing at the clock on the wall by the door. He gave you a lopsided grin, looking down for a moment before he met your eyes again.

“You have to go?” He asked as your mouth opened and closed, glancing behind you as you gripped the doorknob tighter. You finally shook your head no as a slow smile spread across his face. 

“Why’d you wanna talk to me so badly?” You shifted again at the door as he stood for a moment as if he were thinking. 

“You got a nice voice.” He shrugged. “Ain’t nobody else out here.” He listed off. “Your neighbors said you’re a kind woman.”

“My neighbors?” You questioned. “Which neighbors?” Your closest neighbors were about a half mile up the road. You didn’t see them much, but they were nice nonetheless. They always gave you extra crops they had when the seasons changed and you babysat for them a couple times when one of them had to go out of town and the other couldn’t take off to watch their young children. 

“Uh.” He paused, looking down with furrowed eyebrows. His head tilted to the side when he looked at you again. “That family up that way…The Johnsons?” You nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. 

“Why you speakin’ to my neighbors about me?” You opened the door, grabbing a rolling pin from the kitchen table and holding it up just enough for him to get the message. “You know me or something?”

“No…” He trailed off, voice quieter than before. “But I’d like to.”

“What’s your name?” You lowered the rolling pin, but still kept it in your hand. 

“Remmick. What’s yours?”

“(Y/n).” You still eyed him cautiously as you set the rolling pin down again. “You best be going now, Remmick. It’s getting late.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow, then.” He didn’t ask a question and you didn’t protest, simply closing the door when he had stepped off the porch and began to walk back to the road. 

He did come back the next day, just as the sun had set over the horizon and you had lit your lamps. “You came back.”

“You never said I couldn’t.” He shrugged, this time sitting on your porch steps. “When you gonna let me come in properly to talk to you?”

“When I know why a strange man showed up at 10 o’clock last night trying to talk to me about music.” You answered dryly as he cracked a smile, a chuckle coming from somewhere in his chest. 

“I ain’t a stranger no more. You know my name.” He pointed out as you nodded. 

“Remmick.” You dragged his name out as his eyes shifted to you from where he had been looking at his well worn brown boots. You couldn’t really decipher much from his gaze other than a little amusement from what you had said. “That just means you’re not a nameless stranger. My grandma’d be having a heart attack right now.” You added the last sentence under your breath. He didn’t laugh but he let out a breath in a huff that made it seem like he almost laughed. 

“Why? Because you live alone?” You shook your head no. 

“My grandma always told me growing up that nothing good ever comes to your door at night. Nothing good really ever happens at night.” You shrugged as you saw his freeze. His shoulders relaxed a second later as he smiled softly, not showing his teeth. 

“Grandmas are all the same that way, huh?” You nodded with a laugh. “Superstitious.”

“Where you from Remmick?” You questioned after a period of silence. “Like really from?” You added when he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Here.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes. “I been here for a long time.” His voice grew quiet and looked out into the woods, his eyes getting this hazy far away look to them before he cleared his throat with a shake of his head as if breaking a trance. 

“You got a family?” You asked next as he shook his head. 

“Just me. Just me for a while now.” He looked down at his hands. “My parents been gone a long time now. They weren’t long for this world.”

“That sounds real lonely.” You told him quietly. He looked over at you before his eyes flashed towards the door, just for a split second before going back to you. “And you don’t have any brothers or sisters or cousins or…” You stopped speaking when he shook his head no. 

“You live out here by yourself, ain’t you lonely?” He stretched, his back cracking as he hummed in satisfaction before settling back against the wall. 

“No, I’ve got my chickens and cow and they keep me plenty busy.” You glanced over at the barn and chicken coop on the edge of the property by the creek bed. “Plus I see the Johnsons from time to time. When people need me they know where I am.”

“I find it hard to think you live out here alone.” He looked into your eyes when he said that as your eyebrows furrowed and your head tilted to the side. 

“Why’s that so hard to believe?” You crossed your arms over your chest which caused him to look down at your chest before he looked away. “You don’t think women are capable of doin’ things by themselves? It’s the 30s now, things are changing.”

“No it ain’t that.” He waved off. “I’m just surprised that you ain’t got a husband out here with you.”

“Why’s that, Remmick?”

“You gonna make me say it?” He gave you a lopsided smile again. His eyes glinted in the moonlight and heat rose in your body and across your face as you dropped eye contact. “You keep a nice house, you got animals and land, and you’re real nice to be around. Any man woulda jumped at that chance.” He shrugged as if he was simply just making objective observations.

“I gave somebody a chance once.” Your voice grew soft and hoarse as if you were attempting to talk around a lump in your throat. “I learned my lesson. He was a liar and a cheat.” You shook your head, curls moving with the motion before settling back around your face. “I left and came here. Everything I did here, I did for myself and by myself.”

“He ever try to come back around?” Remmick’s voice grew low and cold, a strange glint in his eye you hadn’t ever seen before but in a split second it was gone when he shifted his gaze away from you and back out to the road. 

“He tries just about every damn month.” You laughed bitterly, grabbing his attention when he heard you shift from your spot. “That’s what I got this for.” You held up the shotgun you kept by the door with an innocent smile causing Remmick to smile and chuckle. 

“You’re somethin’ alright.” He said to himself, the smile still on his face. He stands up after a moment more, stretching again before his hands find his pockets. “I best be goin’ now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He didn’t ask again, but you still nodded anyway. This time closing the door with a small smile on your face. 

The next night you couldn’t help but sit at near the door watching the sunset behind the trees and over the horizon. “Rem-”. Your voice caught in your throat when it wasn’t the nice yet mysterious man you’d been talking to for the past few nights. “Tom, get the hell outta here!” You yelled as your ex-husband pushed through the screen door. One of his calloused hands ensnared your wrist, gripping it tightly as he pulled you towards him. 

“Gimme the money you owe me!” He bellowed as he held you tightly. That didn’t stop you from kicking and thrashing, trying anything to get out of his grasp and to the gun that sat neatly perched against the table.

“Get the hell off me! I don't owe you shit!” You dug your nails into his arms, but it only made him hold you tighter in his grasp as he slammed the front door closed and threw you to the floor. Your head hit the floor and you didn’t really remember anything after that. 

Sunlight poured through the windows and into your eyes as you cracked them open, groaning as you lifted your head and staggered to your feet. A dull ache sat at the base of your skull as you looked around the room. “What the hell?” The entire house looked like a tornado had ran through it, curtains torn from the windows, chairs knocked over and one of them was broken. Your kitchen was in a state of disarray you had never seen before. Pots and pans lay scattered, food thrown about, jars half empty and broken with glass shattered on the counters and floors. Your bedding was pulled back and off the bed, bedside tables with the left half open or completely removed. You stumbled to the jar you kept in the back of your pantry, you had painted it so it wasn’t see through anymore. Unscrewing it quickly, hot tears welled up in your eyes when you saw it was completely empty. All that money you had been saving away, had worked for, put in extra shifts for, sold herbs and crops for, was gone, probably burning a hole in Tom’s pocket. 

The knock at the door caught you off guard that evening. You set down the broom, leaning it against the table as you reached for your gun, cocking it as you opened the door and pointed the barrel out. “Woah (Y/n). I do somethin’ wrong?” Remmick joked, before his smile dropped and he took in your appearance and the state of your home. 

“Oh.” You set the gun down with a shaky breath, before you looked back at Remmick and then at the state of your living room. “I lost track of time.” 

“What’s happened?” He questioned, voice tight and eyebrows knitted together. His hands were at his side, balled into fists before he flexed them and then balled them up again. 

“Nothin’.” You froze. “Nothin’.” You repeated again, firmer this time, as if you believed it now. “I just…” You couldn’t come up with anything so you just let the words die on your tongue as Remmick shook his head, dark eyes swirling with anger and something you couldn’t quite place. 

“You hurting?” His voice was softer, standing right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the screen door, or what was left of it. 

“It’s just some bruises.” You waved off. 

“It was him wasn’t it?” His jaw tightened as he said the words.

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head at your dismissal. “Why do you care? Tom’s my cross to bear, not yours, Remmick.”

“Because you’re a good person (Y/n). Too good.” His southern drawl seemed to thicken as his knuckles turned white. “He had no right to come through here like that.” He stepped back from the door. 

“Where you going?” You called after him as he stopped mid-stride, turning his head just enough to look over his shoulder. 

“I forgot to hang my laundry. I’ll be back soon.” He called, running off down the trail without waiting for an answer from you. 

By the time he returned the holes in the screen door had been patched up with tape and when you opened the door again your place looked relatively back to normal. He walked back up onto the porch, hands in his pockets, though they were different pants this time, a cocky smile pulling at his lips. “You look nice.” You complimented his shirt which was also a different color, one that complimented his eyes and contrasted his hair in just the perfect way.

“Thank you, Darlin’.” Heat rushed to your face at the nickname. You decided not to ask any questions when you saw him picking at his nails or that his lips looked stained, like he had drank dark wine on the way back to your house. 

“You ever wonder what else is out there?” Your back was against the wall just by the threshold as he sat mirroring you on the porch. The screen door now left open along with the other more solid door.

“What’d you mean?”

“Just…” You paused as if trying to find the right words. “That the world’s so big and yet I’ve never left the Delta. Feels like if you went somewhere else you could be just about anything you’d want to be.” You sighed, eyes tilted towards the stars. 

“There’s alotta stuff out there.” He agreed. 

“You traveled?” You sat up then as he smiled at the shine in your eyes. 

“Yeah I’ve seen things.” He agreed. “I didn’t like all of it though.”

“What’s your favorite place?”

“Besides right here next to you?” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. He paused for a second and you watched as a slow smile grew on his face as he crossed his arms. “Ireland.”

“Tell me about it?” You asked, your head leaning back against the wall as he nodded before taking a breath. 

“It’s real pretty.” He sounded wistful now, eyes closing with a smile on his face. “There’s these rolling green hills right by the coast. They go on for miles and miles. It’s just nothin’ but farmland out there. It’s perfect in the summer. The grass is tall and soft and you could just lay on those hills for hours and listen to the waves lapping at the rock. I used to do that all the time.” He chuckled to himself, voice soft as velvet. “My parents used to get worried because I’d disappear for hours, but I’d just be there in the grass or with the cows.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

“I never told anybody about that.” He opened his eyes as you grinned at him. 

“Was that home?” Your voice was just above a whisper as he nodded. “You miss it?”

“Every day.” Your hand reached out for his, lightly settling over it as you felt him go rigid. His dark eyes focused in on your hand before finding your eyes. You smiled at him as you felt his cool touch on your fingertips. He turned his hand up as you settled your hand back in his, interlacing your fingers. 

“You’re cold.” You whispered.

“I run cold.” He said before you noticed the dark blue veins that peaked from under his shirt sleeve. They looked strange against his pale skin, but you didn’t say anything. 

“Why haven’t you tried to come inside?” You asked, your voice still soft. “Any other man woulda barged in here by now, but not you.” He didn’t say anything, just sat there as the crickets chirped into the night. You looked down at his hand again. “You hear about Tom? Some woman in the general store was sayin’ that her husband found him face down in the mud with all the pigs around him.” You turned only slightly, feeling him freeze for a moment before he relaxed. 

“Hm.” He hummed, eyebrows raising and mouth opening just slightly. “No, that’s a shame.” Remmick hadn’t even tried to sound surprised or disgusted. If anything, some happiness seeped into his eyes before he returned to his neutral expression. “A real shame.” He added with a nod after a moment. 

“I know you did it, Remmick.” He froze again, his eyes searching your expression before looking away and then back at you again as he swallowed, like a guilty child that had just been found out.

“Wha-”

“Don’t lie to me.” Your whisper had the excuse dying on his lips as he closed his mouth and simply looked back at you. “You got this look in your eye…like a coyote or something…then you disappeared and Tom turns up with the pigs.”

“I didn’t do anything that motherfucker didn’t deserve.” He reasoned, voice steady and unapologetic. The crickets chirping filled the growing silence between you. 

“How many?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you looked down at your lap, hands on either side of you feeling the woodgrain below you, no longer ghosting over his icy skin. 

“(Y/n)...” 

“How many, Remmick?” You repeated a little louder this time. “How many times you done something like that?”

“(Y/n)...” You watched his mouth open and close before he frowned while looking down. It was as if something had broken behind those black eyes that you had grown fond of. He reached his hand towards yours, but you pulled it away and turned to look at him more, just over the threshold and just out of reach no matter how much he wanted to touch and hold you. “Please.” He whispered.

“I know what you are.” You told him as he seemed to flinch at that, cowering away as if searching for a shadow to creep into. “Why you can’t come in unless invited, why you only come around at night. Why you’re so pale and cold to the touch…” You trailed off. “My grandma told me about ‘em. About vampires.” You stood now as you looked at where he was still sitting, refusing to meet your eyes. “I think you should go home, Remmick.” You said softly before stepping back and closing the door. 

You sighed as you went over to your bed and laid down. The man that you had grown fond of, that made your heart beat a little faster and cheeks heat up, was no man at all, at least he hadn’t been for a long time. 

The next day you didn’t light the lantern or open the door, instead turning the radio on and deciding to stay inside and work on the quilt you had started ages ago but never finished. You were in the middle of stitching part of the border up when you heard a commotion in the distance, something that sounded like horses and yelling. 

Letting the needle and fabric fall to the floor you stumbled quickly towards the door, throwing it open when you saw him fall into the dirt just as the sun was setting. The screen door slammed against the wall as you raced down the steps, the old wood creaking from your quick movements. “Remmick?” Your eyes widened as you saw the angry burns, still smoking faintly, that littered his arms and chest, his shirt ripped and bloody, his hair pointing in different directions. “Remmick? Hey, can you hear me?” Your words flew out of your mouth as you looked towards the woods where the shouting was coming from in the distance and then back towards your porch. You held his face in your hands, moving his hair from his face as you tried to assess the worst of his wounds. You helped him stand, a groan escaping his lips at the exertion. 

“(Y/n).” Your name slipped from his lips as he groaned again, his leg buckling as he fell against you. 

“It’s alright, Remmick.” You reassured him as you tried to get him back inside before whatever or whoever was chasing him finally caught up. “We gotta get you inside, but you gotta help me alright? I can’t do this by myself.” He nodded weakly as you helped him stand up again, leaning heavily into you, as you finally got him closer to the house. “You ain’t afraid I’ll hurt you?” He said, trying to crack a joke with a hint of a smile on his face, voice barely above a whisper and hoarse as if he’d not drank water in days. You shook your head immediately with a frown on your lips.

“No.” Your voice was firm and unwavering. “I trust you.” You told him and you saw something in his eyes when he glanced at you as you said that. “Now, come on.” You positioned his arm around your shoulders as you grabbed his belt loops and helped him up the porch and to the threshold. “You’re gonna be just fine, alright? You’re gonna come on in and we’re gonna fix you up.” You told him, though you were also trying more to convince yourself. “You’ll be right as rain, okay?” He didn’t answer you but you set him on the couch, quickly slamming and locking both doors behind you. 

You quickly grabbed your bandages and supplies, setting them down in front of the couch as your eyes scanned over him. His breathing was even more abnormal than you had noticed before and his wounds weren’t healing like you had heard about. “Why aren’t you healing fast like you’re supposed to?” You asked as you poured some alcohol onto a bandage and held it one of the bad wounds. He groaned loudly, hissing when it made contact with his skin. “I’m sorry.” You said softly, giving him your hand to hold. “Some of these are real bad.” You continued the process of soaking gauze in alcohol and cleaning his wounds, letting him squeeze your hand when you’d do it. He never squeezed hard enough to hurt you though, even though you knew he was in excruciating pain, he still managed to hold himself back.

The banging on your door pulled you away from the couch, letting his hand go weakly as you grabbed the shotgun, loading it and cocking it as you swung the door open. “Get goin’.” You said, pointing the shotgun at the group of men gathered around.

“Ma’am, you seen a white man around these parts? He killed our friend.”

“You comin’ to my door asking about Tom?” You chuckled humorlessly. “Take that shit somewhere else. I haven’t seen no white man around here.”

“Will you let us just look around? Something about him ain’t right.” The man at the your door said. You assumed he was closer to your ex-husband than the rest of them. “What he did to Tom wasn’t right and it wasn’t natural.”

“Now you motherfuckers need to get the hell off my porch.” You waved the gun at them again. “I don’t care what happened to Tom, that man was evil walkin’. Now get goin’ before I start shootin’.” You fired the gun, it kicking back as it blasted a hole through the screen door, causing the men to flee while muttering curses at you. 

You closed and locked the door again before rushing back over to Remmick. He looked more alert as he adjusted himself and sat up properly on the couch, an amused grin on his face as you huffed and set the gun down by the kitchen table.

“You look a little better.” You smiled, going towards the bottle of alcohol and grabbing more gauze. “I need to finish, alright? I don’t know if vampires can get infections, nobody’s told me that, but I don’t want to find out. Not when it’s you.” His eyes shone as he looked at you, his irises dark as night but looking at you as if you had put the stars in the sky. 

“Shit!” He hissed loudly as you held the gauze to his side. 

“Sorry.” You whispered as he shook his head, eyes closed and head falling back against the back of the couch. When the sting died down, he lifted his head and opened his eyes watching you lift the edge of the gauze to see if he had started healing there before holding it back against his pale flesh. “Wow.” You whispered as his eyes met yours. 

The once dark irises now shone an astonishing deep ruby, glittering as if the sun was shining in them as he watched you. “Your eyes.” You whispered. He turned his gaze away from you quickly, squeezing his eyes shut as his breathing changed, becoming deeper as if he was trying to concentrate on something. “Am I hurting you again?” Your eyes looked back at his wounds before looking back at his face. He shook his head no quickly. 

He was biting his bottom lip now as he turned his head to the side and away from you. His nostrils flared almost as if he was inhaling something before he cleared his throat. “Remmick, are you alright?” You asked, growing even more concerned. You abandoned the gauze, standing in front of him between his outstretched legs, holding his face in your hands. “Remmick look at me.” You whispered as he shook his head no. 

“Don’t wanna scare you.” He sounded pained as if he was actively struggling. 

“You won’t.” Your thumbs ran against his cheeks and he slowly turned his head to look at you, his eyes opening slowly. “I promise.” You added as you looked into his ruby colored eyes. 

“I’m a monster.” He whispers as you shake your head quickly. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” You saw a small glimpse of the razor sharp fangs as he spoke.

“I want to see you.” Your thumb ran against his bottom lip. “All of you. Don’t hide from me.” His lips parted as he looked at you again, really looked at you, causing your chest to warm before the feeling spread to your whole body. No one had ever looked at you like that. 

He took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. His touches were soft and gentle, like whispers against your skin. He didn’t say a word as he pulled you closer to him, sitting you down on his lap as his other hand went to your cheek, his thumb running against your lips before he moved closer to you. “Can I-” His voice was a whisper as you nodded and your eyes closed just as his lips touched yours. They were soft and cold against your own as your hands went to his shoulders and then his hair. He placed his forehead against yours, breathing out when you both pulled away for air. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” You smiled at the dazed look in his eyes and the small smile on his lips. 

tags:

[dipperscavern]

ngl but i think after you eventually fall pregnant with a stark baby from….obvious reasons….its the wolves that notice first. like Greywind is already a bit protective of you but all the sudden he doesn’t even like when robb is too close to you. Ghost literally will not leave your side and no one can come within 5 ft without a massive wolf growling at them. They literally just won’t leave you alone and take it upon themselves to protect you, theyre with you more than the stark men themselves (who have duties they must attend to) and theyve started liking you more than them anyway (i would feed them table scraps 10000%)

THE WOLVES NOTICING FIRST IS SO GENIUS THIS IS SO ACCURATE. ur so smart (ok spencer reid anon LMFOA)

greywind mirrors robb in his sort of wildly protective nature, but it just (somehow) grows when greywind senses you’re pregnant. now instead of by the door, greywind sleeps cuddled flush against you, covering your stomach with his body. he will flat out refuse to heed robb’s guarding commands, literally refusing to move away from you when you sleep. it seems like greywind has a mind of his own, giving a low growl as a warning when robb has a hand on or slings his arm around your stomach. and robb’s just ?? because usually they’re on the same wavelength, but he has no idea what’s gotten into him. and then the morning sickness starts, along with other symptoms, and you confide in catelyn (with greywind resting his head on your stomach as you sit with her). she sends you straight to the maesters, and they confirm you’re with child. robb finally understands what’s up with his other half now, and greywind resumes letting robb get close to you (& your stomach) again. because he knows robb will be gentle, knowing you’re carrying his babe.

and ghost. don’t even get me started on ghost. he and jon’s relationship (especially in the books) is already so funny. it’s more of a friendship/partnership than a master/pet relationship, and ghost already defies jon if he wants to. obviously, he heeds when it counts, but knowing that, it just confuses/frustrates jon when he starts standing between y’all. ghost loves jon, but it’s not uncommon for him to go off and do his own thing. so imagine everyone’s surprise when ghost refuses to leave your side. he still checks on jon throughout the day, but now, you’re doing your duties around castle black with this giant almost-as-tall-as-your-shoulder white shadow padding after you. he’s laying on the table in the mess hall watching you scrub a different one & immediately standing up on it to growl when someone opens the door to come inside. ghost starts literally hunting for the both of you, bringing you animals. you appreciate it, but it’s quite confusing. jon is so frustrated because as lord commander people have to be able to speak to him, but ghost won’t let anyone near you. eventually he literally has a sit down with ghost (because he definitely speaks english).

& he’s full on speaking to ghost just as he would speak to sam or edd. “She’s my woman too. D’you know that?”

then, as your symptoms start & you visit maester aemon, everything becomes clear. and jon is thankful that he’s not losing his mind anymore.

[secretl1fe0fm3]

fallingforyou ~ billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been in a month long relationship with billie, your first girlfriend. you’re nervous for your first time with her, but she talks you through it

warnings: smut, soft dom!billie, inexperienced!reader, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering, established relationship, super fluffy at the end (they say their first “i love you” to each other)

an: hiiii, heres yet another fic :P literally got such a good request after posting obsessive and i immediately had to jump on it! anyways, very little plot again, enjoy! (anon i hope this is everything you wanted! i had so much fun writing it, thanks for your request!!! mwah!!<3) really pushing the 1975 agenda with the title hehe

18+ minors dni!!!

1.8k words

The soft crackle of the record player filled Billie’s dimly lit bedroom, the needle gliding smoothly over the vinyl as a slow song played out of the speakers. The scent of her vanilla-scented candle mixed with her perfume filled your nose. You sat cross-legged on her bed, fidgeting slightly, your fingers tangled together in your lap.

Billie is laid out beside you, propped up on one elbow, watching you closely with her bright blue eyes, pulling your attention straight to her. She was dressed in a soft cream button up, and a pair of black boxers, her legs stretched out, one foot bouncing in time with the music.

“You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice low, cutting through the soft music.

You swallowed, your heart beating a little too fast. “Just… thinking.”

Billie smirked. “About?”

You glanced away, biting your lip. You’d been together for a little over a month now, long enough for kisses between you to turn deeper, for soft touches to linger longer than they used to. And tonight, you both knew where things were heading, your texts you had sent her the previous night hanging above your head with a silent promise of whats to come.

Billie shifted closer, her fingers finding yours, her thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles over your knuckles. “Are you nervous, baby?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “Yeah.”

Her teasing smirk softened into something more tender. “Hey,” she whispered, bringing your intertwined hands up to her lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I know,” you murmured, stealing a glance at her. “I want to, I just—” You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Billie’s grin returned, her smirk spreading. “Mm, that’s kinda hot,” she mused to herself, tilting her head. “You wanna learn, baby?”

Your stomach tightened at the way she said it, her voice dripping with unspoken lust. You nodded, breath hitching.

Billie shifted, sitting up so she could cup your face, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Then let me teach you,” she whispered, leaning in to brush her lips over yours, placing a gentle kiss on your slightly trembling lips. “We’ll go slow. You just have to trust me, baby. Okay?”

“I do,” you breathed, leaning into her touch.

She smiled, her fingers tracing down your jaw, then your throat, before she pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper, her lips parting just enough for her tongue to graze yours.

“Good girl,” she murmured against your lips, the praise sent a shiver down your spine.

Billie pulled away just enough to look at you, her thumb brushing over your pink lips. Her gaze was dark now, pupils blown wide with lust, but her touch was still gentle and patient.

“You okay?” she murmured, voice low and smooth.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw, then down the side of your neck, her hands sliding over your waist. “I want you to lay back for me, baby.”

Your stomach flipped, but you did as she asked, letting her guide you down against the pillows. She hovered over you, her fingers tracing the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, palms warm against your skin.

“You’re so soft,” she whispered to herself. Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, pushing your shirt up inch by inch until she could press a kiss on your sternum. “Still doing okay?”

You nodded again, but Billie tutted, her lips curving against your skin. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you exhaled quickly, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m okay.”

“Good girl,” she praised, her hands sliding lower, toying with the waistband of your shorts. She glanced up at you through her lashes. “Can I take these off?”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly at the way she looked at you. “Yes, please.”

Billie grinned, hooking her fingers under the fabric and dragging them down your legs, slow enough to make you squirm. She leaned back for a moment, her gaze raking over you, making you flush pink at her intense stare.

“Fuck,” she murmured, almost like she was talking to herself again. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

Your face burned at the compliment, but before you could respond, her hands were on your thighs, parting them. She settled between them, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing up, slow and teasing.

“You’re shaking,” she noted, her voice softer now, her hands smoothing over your skin. “You nervous or just excited?”

“Both,” you admitted, breath catching as her lips brushed higher.

Billie chuckled, pressing a kiss right where your thigh met your hip. “That’s cute.” Her fingers traced up your inner thigh, featherlight. “I’m gonna touch you now, baby. Just with my fingers. I’ll be gentle, okay?”

You exhaled shakily, nodding. “Okay.”

She watched your face as she moved your panties to the side, her fingers trailing against your core. The first brush of her touch made you whimper, and Billie groaned softly in response.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” she murmured, circling her fingers over your clit in slow strokes. “You feel so good, baby.”

Your hips jerked slightly, overwhelmed by the new sensation. Billie hushed you, her free hand pressing gently against your stomach, rubbing softly over your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Just feel me.”

You tried, focusing on the slow, deliberate way she played with your clit, her fingers tracing your folds. She kept whispering to you, telling you how good you were, how perfect you felt. When she finally slid one finger inside you, she went slow, watching for any hesitation on your face.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she murmured, kissing your inner thigh.

Billie watched you with a knowing smirk as you threw your head back against the pillows, her fingers moving slowly inside of you. The stretch was new, but her touch was gentle, her thumb never stopping its soft circles over your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, pressing deeper, curling her finger just right. The sensation made you gasp, your back arching slightly against the bed.

Billie moaned at the sight, her free hand moving to your hip, pushing it down to ground you. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” she murmured, her voice rough. “So perfect around my fingers.”

You whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as she kept working you open. Billie’s eyes drank in the sight of you falling apart on her finger, her thrusts becoming quicker momentarily.

“You like that, baby?” she asked, her lips ghosting over your inner thigh. She added another finger, slowly, letting you adjust. “You’re taking me so well, pretty girl.”

You could barely form words, nodding weakly as overwhelming pleasure built low in your stomach. Every stroke of her fingers inside you, and the feelings of her thumb circling your clit had heat curling inside you.

Billie smirked. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again, your hips shifting, trying to find more friction. Billie chuckled smugly, pressing her lips against the inside of your knee, nibbling at the skin. “It’s okay, baby. Let go for me. I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

Her words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, pleasure crashing through you like a wave as your climax hit you, hard. Billie cursed softly, working you through it, her fingers still moving inside of you as she helped you ride out your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” she murmured, her voice filled with pride. “So pretty when you come for me.”

You shuddered, gasping, barely able to process the feeling of Billie’s lips still pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh, her fingers finally slowing, easing out of you gently.

She moved up your body, kissing your flushed chest, cheeks, and then your lips. Her hand stroking slow, and soothing circles over your hip as she pulled you into her arms, cuddling you against her chest. Your body was still buzzing, your limbs feeling heavy, but Billie just held you, her fingers tracing shapes against your bare skin.

“You okay, baby?” she whispered after a few minutes of silence, her lips brushing against your temple.

You nodded, turning your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just feel…a lot.”

Billie chuckled softly, her arms tightening around you. “I get it,” she murmured. “You were perfect, you know that?”

Heat spread across your cheeks as you burrowed closer to her, your fingers lightly gripping the fabric of her button up. “I didn’t really know what to expect,” you admitted. “But I feel safe with you.”

Billie’s breath hitched for a second before she sighed, her hand slipping under the hem of your shirt to press warm against your bare back. “Good,” she spoke softly, kissing your forehead. “I never want you to feel anything else with me.”

You tilted your head slightly to look up at her, your heart still pounding, but this time not from nerves or arousal—but with something deep and overwhelming in your chest, something you’d been feeling for a while now but had never said out loud.

Billie was already watching you, her gaze soft and concerned. She reached up, brushing her thumb over your cheek, her brows furrowing like she was trying to read your thoughts.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers curling a little tighter into her top. You could feel it threatening to spill out before you even fully thought it through.

“I love you.”

Your words came out rushed, barely above a whisper, but Billie froze, her breath catching. For a second, you thought maybe you’d said too much, maybe it was too soon, but the sound of Billie’s voice cut through your anxious thoughts.

“Fuck,” Billie breathed, exhaling the words quickly like the air was knocked out of her. She swallowed hard, then let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “Say it again.”

You smiled shyly, your heart hammering in your chest. “I love you.”

Billie groaned dramatically, rolling onto her back and pulling you fully on top of her, her arms locking tight around your waist, pulling you to her chest. “Oh my God,” she mumbled, burying her face in your neck. “You’re actually trying to kill me.”

You giggled at her reaction, warmth spreading through your whole body. “So dramatic.”

Billie pulled back, just enough to look at you again, her hands cupping your face, her eyes full of love.

“I love you too, baby.”

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