Tumgik
#i feel i did end up rushing this one a bit and wish i had more time but i did enjoy working on this! maybe I’ll revisit it
retrowave-racer · 7 months
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Erica Cloud grew up always wishing she was something beyond an just an ordinary and weird girl. She wrote stories about herself being a beautiful and wise alien princess that went on adventures. She never expected this to be a reality, even when she became a member of a team of inventors developing a mechanism that could transport people across space and time. Through her creation however, she quickly discovered the truth about herself, finding out she was no ordinary girl, and that actually…being weird was much more fun than pretending to be someone she wasn’t!
Wish I could put more time into this one but I’ve run out! I’m probably taking a bit more than I can chew with this style of drawing haha. After this week of ocs I’m pulling back to do a bit simpler and rougher art, I don’t want to burn myself out! But this was fun to work on, I do like this style of showing my ocs at different stages in their stories. The outfits have been a blast, everyone who knows me knows my ocs have quite the wardrobes each. Anyways, Erica! Always a special place in my heart for this oc. It’s been some time it feels like I’ve drawn her and Gale too!
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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𓆩♡𓆪 SO NEEDY! ࿐࿔
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!
content: needy!reader; afab!reader; fem!reader; nsfw; smut; porn with little to no plot; drabble? i tried, ended up being a oneshot; scenario w jjk men; dry humping; p in v sex; riding
w.c: 1k
n/a: i was really horny when i wrote this so i had to take a cold shower afterwards lmfao. silly scenario, lwk a headcanon too. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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...
"How was work?" Your boyfriend asks you as you get back home from work. You sigh heavily, 'it was absolute hell and draining. I wish I could quit,' you think. "It was okay," you say, lazily dragging your feet towards the couch. 
Right now, you want nothing but to be wrapped in your boyfriend's arms and think about nothing. No slacking coworkers, insufferable managers, just you and him. You join your partner on the couch, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck instead of sitting beside him, and he lets you. 
He can tell how drained you are. Your eyes are drowsy, your breathing heavy and slow, you look like you are about to fall asleep by the way you are snuggling your head into the crook of his neck, your soft breaths hitting his skin. "Tough day, huh?" he murmurs, a hand gently caressing your hair and playing with a few strands out of place while the other rubs your lower back.
You hum a soft 'mhm' and nod, inhaling the scent of his shampoo on his hair and the faint smell of his cologne, one you gifted him on his birthday.
Perhaps he didn't notice. Or maybe he did but chose to say nothing. But you did feel your clothed cunt pressed over where his cock was, a sudden arousal and need rushing through your veins as you cuddled him. You bit your lip, how long had it been since you had intimacy?
It was strange, considering how active your sex life used to be. However, due to a slight change in your work hours, his schedule and yours were not always matching. It was hard to have a moment with him that was not cut short. You'd often had to recur to your fingers to find some sort of release to satisfy your needs. Which were not always enough.
Your pussy started to throb, and you grew anxious. You were not one to start things out, it was usually him. Was it perhaps the stress from work that spiked your sexual frustration up to its breaking point?
You subtly started seeking friction for some relief, making it seem you were looking to get more comfortable on his lap. Of course, it ended up seeming strange the way your hips rolled and could not keep yourself still.
“What’re you doing?” He asks bemused. "I thought you were tired," he teases, his hand travelling from the small of your back to slip under your leggings, groping the bare skin of your ass.
"I'm sorry, I just-" you gasped, his hand squeezing the plush of your ass. He couldn't see the flustered look you had on because of being caught—not that you were 'very' subtle about it—trying to dry-hump him. But he could see the reddened tips of your ears from the corner of his eye and hear your small whimpers along with your breaths heavying the more you pressed yourself against him.
"You need to relieve some stress, is that it?" He murmured, a sly smirk tugging the corner of his lips. He liked seeing this new side of you, so needy and aching for him that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, not even after a long and tiring day of work.
You nodded again with a small whimper leaving your lips, grinding your pulsing cunt with need against his hardened bulge. "P-please, I need you," you sputtered, one of your hands trailing down to the elastic of his sweatpants, trying to tug it down.
Your boyfriend quietly groaned, dropping soft kisses on your neck, nipping at the skin as his hands helped you to get rid of the clothes that stood between your pussy and him until the slick of your bare dripping cunt damped his sweatpants.
"You look so pretty when you're so in need of my cock filling you up, love," he whispered, his voice deep and filled with lust. He tugged his sweatpants down enough for his cock to spring out, hitting his abdomen and leaking in precum. He gave himself a few languid pumps, his tearing tip teasing your folds and grazing ever so slightly on your swollen clit. "How bad do you need me to stuff you full of my dick, baby?" He asked, his hand coming forward to gently stimulate your neglected bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.
"Bad, really bad," You answered quickly, your voice wavering and desperate. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your eyes pleading him to have mercy and give you what you yearned so much for. "Please," you breathed, angling your hips to align your entrance to his cock.
"Please what? Use your words, princess," he said, teasing you by gliding his tip between your pussylips.
You let out a shaky breath, his taunting sending shivers throughout your body and your heart racing. "Please, fuck me," you whined, leaning forward to press soft kisses along his jawline down to his neck, trying to coax him into stretching your needy cunny with his shaft.
Your boyfriend let out a guttural groan, leaning his head back as you sucked on the skin, giving you more space where to mark him as yours, marks he'd wear with pride the next day. "Fuck, baby, you don't know what you're doing to me," he grunted.
"So, is that a yes?" You asked impatiently, biting your lip in anticipation. He didn't have to answer, his cock did the job by easing its way inside your warm walls until he was fully sheathed inside you, gaining a moan of relief from you. You held on to his shoulders to steady yourself and wasted no time, bucking your hips at a deep pace, already chasing your so-needed release.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you whimpered, your eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure as you bounced on his cock, lewd and loud squelches of your wet pussy filling out the room. "Anytime, sweetheart," he hissed, his lips pressed on your ear, grunting as he met your thrusts pistoning his cock in and out of your cunt.
TOJI, SUGURU, CHOSO, HIROMI, NANAMI
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roosterr · 8 months
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hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲
if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3
the 141 when you have amnesia
note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3
wc: 2.8k
warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad
ao3
[part two]
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price
✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.
✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.
✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.
✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.
✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.
✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.
✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.
✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.
✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.
✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.
✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.
✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.
✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.
✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.
✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.
✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."
✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.
✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"
✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.
✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."
✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.
✹ "been together for nearly seven years."
✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."
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gaz
✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.
✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.
✹ he couldn't stand it.
✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.
✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.
✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.
✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"
✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.
✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.
✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.
✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.
✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.
✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.
✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.
✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.
✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"
✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"
✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.
✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.
✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"
✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"
✹ "please, i love you…"
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soap
✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.
✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.
✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.
✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.
✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.
✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–
✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.
✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.
✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.
✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.
✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.
✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.
✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.
✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"
✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.
✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.
✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.
✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.
✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"
✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"
✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.
✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.
✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.
✹ "why don't they remember me?"
✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.
✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.
✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.
✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."
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ghost
✹ simon would be destroyed.
✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.
✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.
✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.
✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.
✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.
✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.
✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.
✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.
✹ "who… who are you?"
✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.
✹ no.
✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.
✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."
✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.
✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.
✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"
✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.
✹ you really did forget him.
✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.
✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.
✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.
✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.
✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.
✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.
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va1entinesg4l · 2 months
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you’re my fucking star
pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader
summary: what happens when Charles meets his celebrity crush?
warning: tiny bit of fluff, f! receiving, slight breeding kink
Charles always had his eye on you. Even during his teenage years, watching you grow up to be a model. In interviews, he’s mentioned having a crush on you, how he’d wish to meet you. He’s been to a few shows to watch you, you were absolutely stunning. He’s even bought a few magazines that has you on the cover.
He was staring again, a Nova Cora crêpe satin dress made by Vivienne Westwood hugging your curves perfectly, your hair flowing down your shoulders, your smile lighting the room up. He takes notice of every single detail about you.
The party was at the Mclaren driver’s house and you were invited. Lando and you had been childhood best friends and he always invited you to watch his races which to everyone’s surprise, they figured you were both dating which made Charles’s blood boil.
“You alright, mate?” Charles snaps out of his trance when he heard Carlos’s voice, turning around to see him handing a glass of champagne.
“M’ fine.” Charles grumps as he downs his champagne, keeping his sharp gaze on you when Lando comes from behind, placing a palm on your back.
Carlos shrugs at his grumpiness before heading off for another glass of champagne. Charles was left in his thoughts, wondering if he should make a move.
You could feel Charles’s gaze burning a hole through you, little did he know. Lando knew that he had a thing for you but he never says anything about it. You excuse yourself from the conversation as you head to the restroom and Charles took that opportunity to follow you.
Your heart slightly jumps when you see Charles leaning against the wall, straightening his back when he sees you come out of the bathroom.
He clears his throat, “Sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. I was just-”
“Following me?”
Charles’s cheek burn with embarrassment, quickly denying the fact that he was following and watching you. You smile at his expression, ‘cute’ you thought.
“I just need to use to restroom as well.” What a shit lie, Charles. He mentally curses in French, making you giggle. “At the women’s bathroom?”
“N-No, I um. I wanted to ask if you’d join me for dinner tomorrow night.” Charles was nervous, it might seem a little rushed, considering he followed you to the bathroom just to ask you out, he could’ve waited till the night ended but he didn’t.
Your heart flutters in surprise and so did your answer.
“I’d love to, Charles.” Charles couldn’t help but let out a sheepish smile, his heart feeling giddy.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” He smiles before you give him a nod, walking back to the crowd as he watches the way your body moves.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It was the night you were having dinner with Charles. You liked Charles, more than you expected. Those sneaky glances he gave when he thought you wouldn’t notice, those nice gestures he made whenever he tried to impress you.
You felt the same way he did, ever since he made his debut in formula 2. The first time you actually met him was when Lando won his first podium, everyone was rushing to take pictures of him, bumping into each other when you bumped into Charles, a digital camera of yours that you dearly loved slipping from your hands.
It broke and Charles couldn’t help but feel bad. You shrugged it off saying it was fine but Charles insisted on buying a new one for you, which he did.
He left it for you in the Mclaren garage, a small apology note that wrote,
‘sorry for breaking your camera, hope this one fills new memories, C.L.’
Reading that note instantly made you fell for him. You never told anyone, not even Lando.
You arrive at the restaurant Charles insisted on going, walking inside as you glance around to look for him. There he was.
The sight of him wearing a suit with those glasses made your clit throb, you kept a straight face before walking over to him. He sees you and his smile beams, he gets up from his seat, pulling your chair out for you to sit.
You smile, giving him a small thanks as he sits down as well.
“tu es magnifique..” you look beautiful. He mutters, his gaze taking every inch of you, his heart pounding in his chest.
“tu es beau toi-même.” you look handsome yourself. Charles stops, looking at you in surprise. He didn’t expect you to speak French. “You speak French?” He grins.
You laugh softly with a nod, shrugging. “You could say that.”
Charles lets out another grin, the love of his life a gorgeous woman who spoke French as well, you have him on a tight leash.
This is going to be a long night.
You were glad dinner went well with Charles tonight. You both spoke about your dreams, your hobbies, your careers, anything to know about each other. You listened to him explain about his love for driving, how it’s because of his late father.
You were both on the way back to his apartment, the ride silent as the soft music plays through the radio.
Charles sneaks a glance when he notices the way you bit your lip, the way your thighs were clenched. Blood rushing straight to his cock. He keeps his attention to the road, his mind filled with the thoughts of fucking you.
He parked his car in the driveway, opening the car door for you as he leads you inside his apartment. It was comfy, there were pictures of him hung up on the wall. His trophies arranged nicely on the cabinet.
He watches the way your hips move and he swallows hard, trying his best not to bend you over the couch and fuck you.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you shake your head, “I’m alright, thanks.”
Your breathing becomes shaky when you face Charles, his body moving towards yours as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you swore you felt his hard cock pressed against your clothed pussy.
“Charles..” you whisper, your breath hitting his.
“Hm?” his eyes find yours, his fingers sliding down your back, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. He’s wanted this for years, to touch you, to taste you.
“Fuck me, Charles.”
That’s all he wanted to hear. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist before he lays you down on the couch, pulling your legs apart before he starts kissing the insides of your thighs.
His nose nudges your clothed pussy before he rips your panties off, sucking on your clit.
You throw your head back, letting out pornographic moans as he continues to lick your pussy.
“So fucking sweet.” He murmurs, sucking harder which makes you clamp your thighs around his head but his hands keeps a firm grip on them to hold you down.
You were a whimpering mess, so close to coming. Charles then slides in two fingers and you moan, gripping his hair tighter before he groans. He could feel you clenching around his fingers and it only takes five seconds for you to cum when he whispers.
“Come for me, jolie fille.” pretty girl. And you do, your cum dripping down his fingers and he licks them clean, groaning at how sweet you taste. “So sweet, baby.”
Charles then undos his pants, letting it drop to the floor. His cock hard, the tip red and swollen before he slides inside of your slick, wet pussy. “Charles!” you gasp, shutting your eyes as he starts to fucks you.
“You’re so fucking tight, mon ange.” my angel. He pants out, his glasses fogging up made him look hotter and you lean in, smashing your lips against his, his tongue slipping in to taste you.
You both were close to coming, the sound of your skins slapping filled the room. Charles couldn’t take it anymore as he whimpers out.
“Cum for me, baby.” You let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back as you finally cum. His cum shooting inside of you, loading your pussy up.
He kisses your forehead gently before holding you in his arms, both your breaths heavy when he whispers.
“I think I’m in love.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
hope you guys enjoyed it!!
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fillinforlater · 2 months
Text
On her jeans (Part 2 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji, Pham Hanni (ft. Jisoo, Seungyeon, Seolhyun)
Length: 8018 words
Tags: You know what? How about no tags. Yes, really. This is very similar to the rest of the On her series, especially cuz it's a Part 2. Go have fun, I know you will have it ;)
TW: rushed editing, a terrible friend, nothing but sex matters
Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being a fantastic co-writer!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part3-
(A/N: This fic has it all: from three cameos to rapid fire scene changes to betrayal to an all-time threesome combo. Have fun with these grown-ass women!)
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"What the fuck, Unnie?" 
"What?" Kazuha says, not even bothering to turn her attention to the young girl. 
"He… I—" 
The ballerina then turns around to see tears forming in Minji's eyes. This is how so many of them must have looked when the realization came crashing over them like a merciless tsunami. Did I really just do this? Is it worth it? Will he ever have enough?
"As he should." Kazuha's expression turns cold, uncaring.  "I did exactly what you asked me to. I sent you to him. It looks like you weren't good enough for him. That's on you. If you can't stick it out, maybe you aren't cut out for all of this." 
"What—do you really feel that way? Is that why you do it?" Minji sobs.
"At the start sure, but now I know: he is my whole world, all that I could need or want. 
“I love him," Kazuha says with unflinching conviction.
"Really?" Minji shouts and Kazuha quickly shuts her up with a palm on her sore lips.
"Yes, really, and if you screw this up, I swear, I'll make your life a living hell." Kazuha looks around the long corridors of the Hybe building. She then removes her hand from Minji's lips and unexpectedly dives straight to the younger’s ear. "You can be a good girl for him, call him Master or Daddy and get your brains fucked out—but don't ever get in between us. When the time is right, I'll be the only one for him.
"Is that clear?"
"Y-yes, Zuha-unnie."
"Good. Now, what did he say you need to do?"
#
A seemingly never ending, vicious cycle starts for Minji. She works her butt off, dances the entire day, goes through hours of meetings, recordings—and instead of going to bed every day, she takes every conceivable measure to go straight to your office. 
She walks in, lays on the table and waits for you to finish a call. At first, it's a mystery who you are talking to, but she finds out that it's all kinds of producers, managers, executives and most importantly—idols.
"So how is everything going?" Jisoo dreamily asks from the other end of the line.
"Well, I almost fucked up,” you respond in all honesty and drop your pants. “I almost slipped and told one of the new prospects they reminded me of you." 
Jisoo's face softens and smiles. It’s like you can hear every movement of her facial bones. "Oh? Care to tell me who? Is she prettier than I was back then?" 
"Impossible," You say sincerely. 
"You're sweet, but don't think you're off the hook for that little quick tryst you had with Jennie. Rosie's sad about it. You need to make it up to her. And you need to make it up to me too." Jisoo says the last part a bit forcefully and you imagine scrunches on her face to show you her seriousness.
"I know,” you sigh and rub a finger along Minji’s throat and cheeks without thinking about her or the incredible sensation of her skin. “I will, I will. I miss you." 
"I know you do. You tell me every time we talk. I miss you too, Daddy.” That’s always how Jisoo finishes a long distance conversation. She wishes you were there, with a hand in her panties. She wants to moan your name into your ear, your actual name, and not scream it out when rubbing one out under some hotel bed sheets. But Jisoo will have to wait.
The moment you finish the call, you start to pull out your hard cock and press it into Minji’s wide open mouth. She makes sure to keep her lips moisturized at all times, but she can never be ready for the strong impact of your hips hitting her head and rocking her back and forth on the desk.
With every single one of those meetings, Minji's clothes become more revealing, to the point she gasps whenever she sees herself in a public mirror. People on the train start to watch her round ass bounce in short shorts, then in very short shorts, then in a miniskirt.
Minji wonders how she is able to push through this. Her sleep gets shorter, the training rougher, the meetings more intense—worst of all, you become more violent too. It all reaches a peak when Minji is unable to shower because otherwise she would be too late. 
In her dirty, sweaty state, she sprints to your office and bursts through the door, just to be greeted by the sight of you roughly fucking—destroying—the huge ass of a familiar idol.
"You are fuck-ing late!" you growl and slam the bendover idol against the desk a final time. Minji hurries around the wooden monstrosity to get into her, by now well-known position. It is then that she realizes who you are fucking: Seungyeon, the former dancer of CLC.
"What are you?" you shout at Seungyeon and smack her ass hard.
"Your stupid, bubble-butt bitch, Master," she wails in a weird mix of pain and euphoria. She gets a tap on said bubble-butt with your cock.
"How do you want it, bitch?"
"Harder, Master."
"What are you going to get?"
"What Master wants."
"Exactly."
Minji lets her head hang off the edge, only a few inches away from where you annihilate Seungyeon's dignity and her asshole with your inches. Both you and the idol grunt like animals in heat, but for her it sounds blissful, for you more like work.
And so Minji lays there, drenched in sweat, and the weirdness of being forced to watch other people fuck never really fading. It's stranger the more she has seen or admired an idol. No matter who, everyone she saw has folded to you, and Seungyeon might be the most submissive. How she degrades herself and begs for you to ruin and spit on her—
"Good bitch, keep your ass gaping!"
Suddenly, the cock is on Minji's face and she looks past it in shock. Your expression, though a bit exhausted, remains stern.
"Open fucking wide, Minji," you command and Minji gulps. This cock has just been in Seungyeon's ass, maybe for hours, and though it looks spotless, she can't bring herself to—
Minji gasps and that is enough. You push against her lips, into her mouth and start to use it to 'clean' yourself—really, it is just training for Minji to trust you and accept your commands.
Though her first reaction was a gag of disgust, Minji has to admit to herself quickly that Seungyeon's ass on your cock tastes great. It's an embarrassing secret which she will never tell anyone.
You switch between the holes a couple more times before creaming Seungyeon. While Minji has her final cleaning session, you order the older idol to clean Minji's feet and calves off sweat.
No hesitation, Minji realizes, as Seungyeon does not leave out an inch of her skin.
Seungyeon isn't the only one showing complete devotion to you and your every order. You've had a few other idols over before or after Minji's throat-stretching. The young soon-to-be idol knew them, but they weren't the stars yet she saw in your profile list. The thought that you might have been bluffing with controlling the likes of Blackpink, aespa or Red Velvet crossed her mind, but they faded whenever she thought of Kazuha's success.
She wants that too, no, Minji wants to pass Kazuha and so she comes back to you, no matter how hard the companies’ training is fucking her. Then finally comes the day—actually, the day before the day. 
The not-yet NewJeans member lays on your table. She returned from the final pre-debut meeting and was ready for you to quickly walk in and fuck her face, but you never came. For endless hours, the entire fucking night, Minji had to lay there and wait. She could've left at any time, but the gravity of this situation, this presumed test, pulled her down to the flat, wooden surface. 
No matter how uncomfortable it got, she did not stand up. You could be around the corner at any second. The thought of her giving up right as you walk in gave Minji a weird mixture of fear and arousal, further amplified when she had to keep herself from falling asleep. A hand in her soaked panties, Minji played the fantasy out in her head:
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You would walk in and find her asleep. Angry by her inability to follow orders and service her Master, you decide to punish her. When you find her panties wet, the desk covered in girl juice, you wouldn't hesitate to plunge into Minji's tight, virgin cunt and fuck her awake. It would hurt, but Minji wouldn't stop cumming!
She can't stop cumming, her fingers rub her clit to completion and now real juice runs down your desk. Minji is wide awake, but an hour later, she does it again, again, again, until you finally enter the room. Casually, as if Minji isn't completely spent and almost fully naked on your work desk.
The sparkle in her eyes is priceless. Out of all the crazy shit you pulled on this formerly innocent virgin, this was the task that broke her. You don't know the exact moment, but you will never forget this moment where you see her orbs and know that she is past her prostitute stage.
"This is actually impressive," you say with a coy smile while gently caressing Minji's forehead. "I see you... had fun last night?"
"Sorry, Master," Minji carefully apologizes and kisses your hand. "I made a mess."
"Don't worry, I'll call someone to clean it later. Now, get on your knees and show me what you have learned."
She is dizzy, barely able to stand, but luckily, Minji's place is at your feet, hands wrapped around your length. Her strokes are soft, careful, and she does not wait to use her tongue on you. After a minute, she sees the impatience in your look and uses her mouth. Quickly it’s wrapped around your tip and for the first time ever, Minji fucks her face on your cock.
"Oh, fuck!" you exclaim. There is some actual joy in that, especially when you can lazily put Minji's hair in a makeshift ponytail and watch her go down on your crotch in surprisingly quick succession. "This is good, this is fucking—great!
"Hold still."
Your heart pumps like crazy, but it's nothing compared to your hips which start to obliterate Minji's throat. Your cock bulges her visibly and she starts to shake. Usually, she'd have her teeth at spots where they don't belong, but at long last, she has learned. 
She takes it well, like a slut should. Not yet one of your perfect sluts however. It's all a bit rushed; her debut, the training, the stretching. Considering this, she is definitely good and her gags sound delicious. 
You pull out of her mouth. Minji triest to catch her breath, instead catches three of your fingers which you also use to fuck her mouth while locking eyes. The salty tears that stream from hers look so delicious and you love how, no matter how many chokes you force out of her, there is no fight or flight response. She takes it.
"Become sloppy, slut, get your drool out. I want to see you become a mess for your Master!"
Minji twitches. She is dazed, your fingers become glazed; then an avalanche spurts forth, of more tears and drool that starts to cover her chin and stain your floor. You want more, so you replace your fingers with your cock and fuck her throat again, never slowly, only hard and fast. At this point, the poor girl beneath you is dehydrated and the pool on her thighs and the tiles excessive. You stop.
"Fuck, this is what I mean. This is how you suck cock, Minji."
"G-glad you l-like it—Master."
"Go clean up your mess."
"Yes, Master."
When Minji goes down to lick and suck her saliva from the floor, you rest your shiny, polished shoe on her cheek and bask in the faint sun, dawning right before your office window.
"You will go home and sleep," you order firmly. "The only contact we will have is when you send me a video of you masturbating in your debut panties. Send me those panties in the mail, and you'll soon lift your first music show trophy."
Lean down after Minji has collected all the slick and press an unmistakable love bite right under her right breast. Minji mewls as you do so.
"The-they'll probably try to hide the mark, Master."
"Good." Pat her head. "No one can know what happened here."
"Of course, Master."
"You've been a good girl, Minji. Now go out there and become a bigger star than you could've ever dreamed of."
"Thank you, Master."
#
Months go by where Minji is mostly a concept for you, some asset to be discussed in meeting with your connections in HYBE. Rarely did she send a direct message to you—except for the video you asked for. It's nice that she didn't totally forget about you. After a busy day that calls for vacation and a nice, warm pussy on your cock, you turn on the TV to watch the most important year-end award show. 
A quick scroll down your contact list, you pick someone you know is nearby, obedient and definitely warm. The calls with Seolhyun are never longer than ten seconds, because she knows she's got to be there for her Daddy.
"You ever miss this?" you ask her when she sits down on your cock, panties still around her ankles, jacket still hanging from her shoulders.
"The awards? Sometimes, but—oh fuck!” Seolhyun is interrupted by you thrusting upwards while you care more for the TV than her. “Yes, more Daddy. They are nothing compared to your cock, your touch, your love!" 
Seolhyun tightens when she moans these words and you give her more of your touch, your thrusts, your cock. Soon she is bouncing in rhythm with it and begs for you to rub her clit. You won’t do so yet, would be boring if she’d get all the things that make her cum so easily.
"What do you think of her, Seolhyun?” You nod towards the screen as it captures Minji in all her beauty and on stage charisma. “Think she can capture the nation's heart like you once did?" 
"Minji, right? I think so."
That is the first time Minji has been in your sight since when her face was pressed to the floor. She looks like a proper star, close to being a super star (their next song will guarantee it) and her attitude reflects that. Don't touch me, I'm better than you, get out of my way, who even are you? - you imagine how she feels towards these other, lesser known people around her. 
Minji's dream came true and you were the pixy dust. Now you deem it the right time to get a hold of her. In between comebacks, right after all the award shows, she will have no excuses. Time to pay up, you text her, with a location, time and date while your finger disappears in Seolhyun’s asshole.
#
The day comes and you've checked into your favorite spa-hotel with excitement. The security and privacy here are top notch, or at least they are for you. See, it’s all about connections and here you have the best connections and can make sure that no rumors spread and that all information comes to you in no time. Minji will be here shortly and you've already painted the pictures of her naked body in your head, scenes where she undresses, spreads her legs and folds, begs for you to part her—
You hear the door open. From your seated position on the bed, you look expectantly at the entrance to the bedroom which Minji finds shortly after, her fluffy, thick jacket already falling from her shoulders.
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"Hello, Master," she sultrily says with a smile. You reciprocate it.
"I see you've been doing great," you skip the greeting and walk over to her. A gentle push and the jacket fully falls off. Minji's outfit underneath is surprisingly thin for this season; there could be snowfall outside any day now and she runs around in a white crop and skinny denim.
"Those jeans look good on you." Stare down at her eyes while you check the quality of those mentioned jeans by fondling her butt, then her thighs and lastly her crotch. "Very expensive, HYBE is already paying you?"
"It's all the ads we do," Minji quickly responds, her breath halted while she does the unthinkable and moves your hand away from her crotch. "I... I never thought it would work so quickly."
"Yeah, it feels surreal, almost too quickly," you say with careful annoyance, unsure how to judge Minji's hand on your wrist holding you back from getting to feel more of her body.
"I couldn't have done it without you, Master, thank you very much~"
"You see, Minji..."
Her shoulders in your firm grasp, you move Minji to the next wall and position her in such a way that she is trapped and your knee is able to gradually push up against her covered pussy. The young girl tries to resist, she is suddenly flustered, oh how this should remind her of her success.
"... no one was ever this successful without a big commitment. Your commitments until now were nothing."
"Tha-that's why I'm here. Master, I'll suck your cock as much as you want, I'll let you deepthroat me hard, even for the entire night!"
You scoff and give Minji's cheek a quick, small slap. Your knee has now become the only pillar that keeps her upright. She has to balance and rub her slightly moistened folds on them so as to not to fall over.
"Sucking? Deep throating? Oh you're still so naive. No. You, Minji… belong to me. All of you, which means any hole. You are mine to use however I want."
"Wha—no!" She puts a hand on her cheek and looks at you with puppy eyes that beg so pathetically, like the thought that you took this deal seriously is a shocking reveal. You roll your eyes at her and find the top button of her jeans, but Minji starts to fight back with a loud, whiny voice.
"No, Master, you don't understand! Un-unlike all those other idols, I'm... I'm still a virgin. I don't want to lose it now, not here, not—"
"That is not up to you!"
Your shout halts time and space, only Minji's facial expression matters. She looks honest, absolutely in dread that it might happen at not the moment she wants it to. She cannot fathom giving you or anyone that control, she wants it special and precious and all those nonsense illusions. It's gut wrenchingly annoying but you will not go too far to break her now; you're too fond of her for that. 
Call it your weakness and curse you for that.
"We had a deal."
"I-I know."
"And you don't want to fulfill it?"
"I'm sorry, Ma-Master, please don't—"
"Then offer me something equally valuable." Minji looks at you in confusion. You drop her from the wall and hand her your phone. "Put in the number of someone whose virginity I can take. They have to be your sacrifice, your warrantor, and they have to agree to the same contract.
"You will then come with her to me and will watch how I take her virginity. You will watch every fucking pump I put into her pussy. She will testify, she will call me Master and she will love it. That's your only way, you better bring me someone."
Minji clutches the cell phone, her life-line, her lever to the trolley problem, except the train that was about to hit her can only be directed at another girl.
"And Minji,” you add in controlled yet uncontrollable rage. “I want her here, now. I want someone worthy of my time and touch. Or else. You will call them and then you will be on your knees sucking my cock while we wait."
Sweat comes pouring down Minji's forehead. You can hear the inner workings of her brain scramble, trying to find someone she can push in between you and her. There is no submission to you and there is no urge to flee and break your deal. 
Minji genuinely tries to sell you someone. Despicable, everything for success.
"D-do you know Hanni?" she suddenly stutters, quietly, ashamed but her fingers are already dialing up her friends number.
"I have never met her." You laugh in disbelief and turn your back to Minji. "You're really going to sell your bandmate? Are you not friends?"
"I—she's the only one I know who is a virgin but not... not... not unwilling."
You cock your eyebrow and listen to Minji's call which is surprisingly short. No mention of you or your arrangement, just the location and some details. Definitely no one is allowed to know of this and yes, Hanni has to be swift.
Minji ends the call and you immediately throw her to the ground, her head on the cushions of the nearby bed, your belt already loose, a hand on your pants.
"Pull them down and open your fucking mouth." Minji does so, the shock in her eyes is wonderful when you push past her lips and against the back of her throat in one go. Violent choking. "You are terrible, the worst friend, but at least you know how to make that mouth-pussy of yours work. Go on! Fucking use your tongue."
Minji starts to gag, trying to adjust to your cock, not realizing you weren't even fully hard yet. You never were with her. 
"Good, all the way. Use your tongue and saliva, let me fucking feel it."
You kick off your trousers and put more force in your hips so that your long shaft may fill Minji's deepest depths. It pushes out a lot of saliva, a waterfall that tumbles down her chin and covers her top. From your point of view you may not see it, but you know that Minji's aroused nipples poke through her bra and show that no matter how hard you fuck her face or belittle her, she's yours.
Minji's mind shall only be occupied with satisfying you, so even her still lacking tongue and lips do their best to suck you from tip to base—you make sure she never slacks by pistoning in and out of her.
After about 30 minutes of slowly thrusting in and out of here and replying to texts on your phone, you receive a message from the hotel staff that someone has arrived and come to see you. Minji tries to tap on your leg, indicating she wished to be freed of this position. You shake your head, no. 
"Oh, you don't want your bandmate to see you like this? That's not an option."
The sound of a door opening echoes through the hotel room and Minji panics, flailing wildly, her eyes tearing up and begging, begging so well—maybe she can finally grasp what she has gotten her friend into—
"Hello? Minji, are you here? Is everything okay?"
—but she still has so much to learn. Smack her cheek a final time, loud enough for Hanni to gasp at the front door. Before she can enter the bedroom, you pull out of Minji's mouth and push her towards the door. 
"Minji?" Hanni asks again and rushes towards her. Minji stops her, both of them shriek in shock. "Oh my Gosh, Minji, it is you! You scared me!"
"I-I'm sorry, I—"
"You look... messy. Is everything alright? I'm sorry if I took too long, you sounded so sad and terrified."
"Hanni, I," Minji stutters, hesitates, maybe even contemplates. It all makes her seem as if she has a heart and does not want to use Hanni to keep her virginity, but deep down everyone has to know that she is not a good person. No one would sell their friend for something like this. Minji is cold hearted when it comes to her career and things she believes she rightfully owns. "I have to ask something crazy of you."
"Okay? Look, you need to calm down first, maybe clean your face up and then we can talk ab—"
"Hanni, please." You hear some uncertain steps, as if someone is almost falling over and is ultimately pressed to a wall. You hear a wet sound, then a moan. Your cock is going crazy at all the possible things that might happen right around the corner and later in this bed. "Do you trust me?"
"Why did you kiss me, Minji?"
"Do you trust your leader?"
"Yes, of course. I'm a bit scared though, what have you gotten into?" Hanni's voice is full of concern and so is her face which you see for the first time when Minji guides her into the bedroom, arms around Hanni's tiny waist.
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Hanni is in complete shock. 
"Minji, what is this? Who is this man?" You still have your pants down and cock out. 
Unfazed, you smile at the girl. "Minji, tell your friend what you did."
"Have you never wondered," Minji starts right away and tightens her hold on the younger band member. "Why so much changed before our debut, why the success was imminent, why it didn't stop? Have you never questioned all the blessings we received?"
"I-I... what was I supposed to think?" Hanni weakly laughs and tries to avoid the sight of your erection, but she can't because Minji is slowly inching her closer to it. "We are in a gr-great company, smart managers, pro-ducers... so who are you?"
"He is the reason, he is why we did not fail. Look, Hanni, I had to do it, okay?"
"Do what? Sell your body?" Hanni looks over her shoulder at the glassy-eyed leader of her group who gives her the tiniest nod. In those large, round orbs of the young Vietnamese woman you see the realization kick in bit by bit. At first she does not want to accept it, then she cannot believe it—but at last, she has to put it into words.
"You sold your body... and now he wants more."
"He wants something only you can give him," Minji whispers and pecks Hanni's cheek. You are astonished at how she manipulates her dongsaeng, Minji truly is ruthless; but Hanni's calmness deserves an award. She seems to surrender to this idea easily. There is no flight, there is barely any fight—she accepts her situation. 
"Will you give it to him? Your virginity?"
"Minji, I—"
"That's not the entire truth is it, Minji?" You smirk coldly. "You are a pretty thing, Hanni. She's right, I do want more. It's not something only you can give me, rather, it's something Minji refuses to give me. So instead, she offered you to me. Your precious group leader sold you out."
Put her tiny chin into your hand and for the first time, Hanni locks eyes with you. Minji's manipulation roots deeper, as there is not a hint of belief in the words you say. Rather, Hanni listens to the girl in her ear, at her ear, that licks her ear and tells her sweet lies:
"He is playing with you. He likes to play. But don't worry, he will help us.
"Don't you want to be a star, Hanni? The most successful foreign idol?" You hear Minji opening Hanni's belt as she melts in between your thumb and index finger. Her lips look so full and perfect. You'd bet your career that she is already a great sucker, maybe even better than Minji is at this point. "My sacrifice can't be for nothing, and yours won't be either."
Hanni's pants drop to the floor, while you work to get rid of her jacket. She is like a Barbie doll: pretty, clear skin, obedient, ready to be undressed and played with. No matter what you do or where you touch, she just obliges while her features become redder and hotter. Soon, she wears nothing but her undergarments.
"You have an amazing body," you compliment her. She just nods. You order Minji to put Hanni on your bed. For now, you'll not reveal the whole story, the truth: yes, you play games, but Minji clearly is lying to Hanni, trying to get away with more than questionable methods.
You respect Minji for that. Yes, in this dedication, the lies, you see devotion for you. She is willing to sacrifice herself and even her friend for your satisfaction. It wouldn't be long now until she would truly be turned into a loyal one for you. 
You have a suspicion and you would test it out here. 
"Hanni Pham, a bright star plucked out of Australia, a Viet idol with international appeal. And a lovely voice too, dare I say even prettier than Minji's..." 
You smirk, sensing the hurt from Minji without even looking.
"Will you tell me your name?" Hanni asks as you crawl on top of her. Minji placed her in a missionary position and still rubs her hand all over her exposed thighs so she would open her legs for you.
"You don't need my name, you just need to know what I can do and what I want. My deal with Minji benefits you a lot. Tell me, how does it feel to hold a music show trophy or one of those MAMA awards?"
"G-good, Sir, it's quite the," Hanni gasps when you push her legs open and place a finger on her white, innocent panties. You search for a bit until you find her clit and rub it from side to side. "Thrill."
"Drop the Sir, with me Hanni." Lean down to her pink lips, those round, moisturized and smooth lips. "Call me Daddy."
Minji's eyes widen and she almost lets out a whimper as if to object to you. A first encounter and you already let her call you, Daddy? Did you already like Hanni more than her when you haven’t even received pleasure yet? 
"Daddy?" Hanni responds unsure. 
"Yes, Hanni. You'll be a good girl for me won't you? That's all I want. Good, loyal girls. If you do that, you can have anything you desire."
"Daddy, I want to be successful and I want to give you what you need for that." She whimpers when you put more pressure on her nub. "B-but I'm a bit scared. I have never put something inside."
"I think your friend here can help you with that. After all, she got you into that situation." You glance at Minji and she gets what you mean, though the envy at Hanni's preferential treatment is clearly visible on her wrinkled forehead.
Minji leans down and gives Hanni a firm kiss while replacing your hand on the clit that has steadily hardened and is now aroused to the point Hanni's panties become stained with wet spots.
You glance at Minji in thanks. 
"Oh and Minji: no more kissing Hanni unless I command it. Her lips and your lips, belong to me only. Is that clear?" She can only meekly nod. "I hope you haven't been touching anyone else during our time together, Minji. That would really upset me." 
You already know the answer. Given how easily Minji’s and Hanni’s lips connected just this evening, you know it's something they are comfortable with. That would end now. 
Before Minji can answer you, you focus back on Hanni and the sticky sensation spreading over your fingers.
"Already wet for me? You're taking to my touch a lot better than your leader. Tell me, Hanni, you're not afraid of me, are you? Just ask me to touch you more. Tell me what you want."
Hanni is still hesitant, though there is shyness only in the way her mouth doesn't move and admit to her body's obvious reaction. She leaks onto your fingers, her chest heaves heavily, faster. You insert a finger, as well as part of those drenched panties inside her and finally, the right words slip out.
"Your fingers feel so good, fu-uck."
"That's what I wanted to hear." You smile and lean down to Hanni's face. Her lips instinctively pucker, her eyes fall shut, oh, how incredible: she is already yours. You let her wait there, finger twirling, pretending to push aside her panties and go for the real deal, but you're all teasing. Hanni mewls.
"Please, D-Daddy, kiss me."
"I will, when I put it in."
"W-will it hurt? Will you hurt me Daddy?"
"Only if you want me to, baby girl, but you want what Daddy wants, right? It might hurt to begin with, but it will feel so good for both of us." 
The chemistry between you two surprises Minji as she backs off, her hands away from the young women for the first time. Hanni nods. 
"Make me feel good, Daddy. I trust you."
Hook your fingers in Hanni's panties and at last, her soaked entrance is exposed, for your eyes only. You stroke your cock a couple of times, get the fresh girl juice all over it and gaze over the insanely well-trained body you're about to ravish.
Hanni's abdomen is to die for. The muscles on her midriff are absolutely stunning, the same goes for her navel perfectly resting in between them and then further up her subtle boobs, which Minji frees from the bra after your command. It all ends with Hanni’s chin, the sweat that runs down her throat, the faint sparkle of perfection—to sum it up, Hanni is incredibly beautiful.
You take hold of her hips and bask in the way your cock and her hole are magnetically attracted and connect. Hanni throws her head back at the impact and with every inch you stuff into her, her breathing becomes more erratic. Funnily enough, the same goes for Minji, who quietly scoots back and rests at the headboard of the bed.
As you slowly pump half of your cock in and out of the tight cavern, Minji goes for the same rhythm and rubs her clit, hand buried in her pants. She even goes and opens the first buttons. Is it really this girl that wants to keep control over her virginity? Let her have it for now, she'll be yours soon enough.
"Daddy, just focus on me!” Hanni whines out her first words after becoming a full blown woman. “You-you didn't need her, right?"
"Then make me forget, baby girl. Squeeze my cock with your pink little pussy." You go and have a taste of Hanni’s fat lips again, wishing they would suck your balls right now. Hanni could become a whore who would worship your crown jewels like no other. Better than Minji, whose eyes beg to be involved in the action. "Spread your legs more, I want to fuck you harder, Hanni.
"Oh and Minji: Go and suck my balls! That's what you're good for."
"O-okay, Master."
"Be grateful for it. But remember, no cumming."
"Thank you, Master."
"Daddy?” Hanni whimpers softly. “Why does she call you, Master? Is one better?" 
"Oh baby girl. Daddy is more affectionate. It's what you deserve. Minji still has to learn, her heart isn't in this yet."
Minji's heart might not be in the right place (rather the place you intend it to be) but her lips surely are. She gives your swinging balls a good suck and slows done the pace at which your fucking Hanni's pussy. 
It's amazing how well she adjusted to your size, even with your length and girth growing continuously at her fantastic heat and texture. Hanni handles you like a pro, and like one of your pro girls, she is already more drool than straight thoughts.
"Does it feel good, Daddy's hard cock in your virgin pussy? Get used to it because it's the only thing your hole will know. I will be the only one to use your holes, is that clear?"
"Oh Daddy, oh Daddy," Hanni moans and her body rocks violently on the bed sheets. "You-you are so much better."
"Better than what, baby girl?"
Hanni puts both her weak hands on the back of your head and pulls you down to where her lips meet your ears to tell you lewd things that Minji must not hear.
"Better than Minji's fingers."
You take this as a cue to grab Hanni's thighs and angle her in such a way that you can slam into her cunt harder. You let gravity do the work while the force of the entire bed frame shaking has Minji trembling in awe. She rubs her thighs together and tries to keep her hands busy with other spots of her heated body.
You can see that she wants to rub her clit while you make Hanni cum during her precious first time. She is probably projecting, wants you to go softly, then harder, but that is not your game.
"Hanni, no more of that, no more Minji's fingers. Only Daddy shall touch you from now on. You are mine and I'm going to go as hard as I want." You growl out slamming into her even more. "Take it all, Hanni, prove your fucking worth to me."
"Thank y-you, Daddy," Hanni begins her way down the rabbit hole of subjugation towards only you. The new life she will enter, all the changes, challenges and benefits will overwhelm her, but first you overwhelm her with your rod. "Thank you, for help-ing us, thank you for the wins, thank—ah, Daddy, I'm cumming! My pussy is cumming! Thank you for your cock, Daddy!"
You enter a nirvana drilling into Hanni's tight cunt. 
"Good girl, yes thank me, beg me, need me. This is the only cock you will ever have from now on and—" You kiss her with wanton lust, shoving your tongue in her mouth. The next whisper in Hanni's ear is out of Minji’s reach, though she might be too distracted from your delicious balls to get what you were saying either way. 
"Daddy! I understand, yes." 
Without losing focus of your hammering, you give a dismissive order to Minji, who is not worth your eyes on her.
"You can go Minji. I don't need you here. In fact, we can end our deal. You got what you needed right? Wins and fame. I won't meddle with your group in anyway. You are free to go."
"What?" Minji shrieks, completely offended that you could say such a thing.
"You heard me. Fuck. Off." Every word is empathized by a huge thrust that bulges Hanni's tummy. She stares at it in infinite bliss, then throws her head back as you knead her small tits and make the nipples hard like steel.
"B-but Master, you can't just do that."
"You did not keep your part of the bargain and still got what you wanted. Why the hell are you still here?"
"But I did!” Minji argues and climbs in front of you on the bed. “I brought you, Hanni, Master! I—" 
"Hanni, turn around and get in position, I want both of us to look at Minji. I'm going to fuck you from behind.
"What's wrong, Minji? You never truly wanted me in the first place. We both got what we needed from our deal. You don't need my help, your group will be successful. I made sure of it. I am releasing you from our contract with no punishments. Take the fucking deal, Minji."
Minji sits there, on the bed, not moving from her position. In utter shock as she watches Hanni smile and moan as you take her from behind, her pussy stretched again. God, how good she must feel, that face says it all. The pleasure, the desire, all the praises for your cock and it's only because she has her tongue sticking out like it's numb.
Suddenly, it all seems so clear to Minji, so easy to comprehend. She takes a deep breath and learns towards you, her upper body prompted up. All that just to throw her dignity away, to throw herself underneath you.
"Daddy, please! Give me your cock too! Take my virginity, don't push me away!"
You stop thrusting into Hanni right away and pull out for a moment to look at her. 
"Bullshit. I told you we were done here. You don't mean that. You just want my power and connections like everyone else."
"No, I mean it," Minji reassures, but words are nothing when it comes to her current state. She has to follow it up with more, significantly more. You doubt that she can deliver, but low and behold, she unbuttons her jeans and peels them off to show her long legs and the thoroughly drenched panties.
"Mi-Minji, what in the," Hanni moans and goes silent when you smack her ass. It's unbelievable that she is already so obedient and well-trained without training. The more she impresses you, the more Minji has to follow up. Soon she is on her back, jeans on the floor, shut legs turned towards you.
You put your hand on her thigh and though it's tough on her, Minji spreads her trembling legs wide. You poke her lips through her panties and when she squirms you give her a quick slap on her face. 
"Look at me, Minji," you order and she does. "Beg me, call me Master until I have given you, no, until I have taken what is rightfully mine."
"Please, Master," Minji cries out. "Please take my virginity, y-you own it."
"Louder," you growl and smack her covered pussy. Minji cries out, her pleas louder and louder with every new hit you give her cunt. Oh the way her eyes sparkle and body jerks is addicting, you don't realize that you have started to fuck back into Hanni who might have seen Minji naked before, who might have had sex with her—
—but this is new. Minji is a brainless mess, her pussy red from the beating, her face fully in tears. 
"Master, fuck my pussy, please! Fuck this pussy, my worthless pussy, it's yours! Make me full, make me full, I don't deserve it!"
"Now we are getting there," you viciously laugh and grab her chin to aggressively tonguefuck her wet, silly mouth. Minji is such a mess, dazed to the point Hanni's hands undressing her top after your order doesn't even faze her. Her top is gone, her bra as well. All that's left are her panties and Hanni has her fingers already hooked in them.
"Wait, Hanni, she should do it alone."
"Yes, Daddy."
"Ma-Master?"
"Lay down, Minji.
"Pull them to the side.
"Show me your pussy.
"Say it.”
Minji slowly and clumsily works on pulling and getting her wet panties off of her. There is an unfathomable amount of embarrassment in the way Minji’s eyes cannot hold your strong, charismatic gaze for long.
"Shall I feast on your pussy, Minji?" You ask with a smirk and hunger in your eyes.
They all turn eventually. It sometimes sounds so sudden and drastic, but it's all more or less the same. It builds up over time, like an orgasm. Some girls are quiet, until it bursts out of them in a heavy gush that has the entire floor wet. Some are loud the entire way through and what was once only lip service becomes reality, a reality they adore.
They all turn and they all get your cock. So does Minji, with her finger still spreading those sore, red folds and you ignoring her pleasure just to find yours in this wet, messy hole. Minji's cunt is remarkable, cute in the way it ripples and tightens and incredibly lewd in the way it sounds when you slam yourself in and out while holding onto her slim waist.
Now she is part of the loud girls, those idols that suddenly come to worship you more than the career that they fought so hard for. It will be later that they realize that this is the way they get approval from their company, their sponsors, their fans. You are success, the Queen maker for the outside world and a toy maker in your bedroom.
Minji is a great toy. She is euphoric now, the pain already gone. She makes sure to adjust to your will, lifts her hips off the ground when you need to slow down, shows you her tongue when you go for a kiss, and always says the right things. It was so hard for her not long ago, but now she is willing to do it despite Hanni laying next to her and admiring both of you fucking like animals. 
"Hanni," you groan and hammer your cock balls deep into Minji, who throws her head back in another (accidental) orgasm. "I know you want to fuck both of us so bad, but if you don't touch yourself until I'm finished with her, I'm gonna cum on your pretty face and tell you how good you are, okay?"
"O-okay, Daddy," Hanni mewls. Not that she would have touched herself, but you can't blame her for considering it. Caress her cheek softly for being so good, then fucking destroy Minji's cunt because she has been so bad.
"Master, more, pl-please, fuck!" Minji howls with pleasure. 
"You're going to be my good girl from now on, right?" 
"Yes, Master, use me however you want. I-I just want to live to fulfill your desires. Master!" 
You stare deeply at her and pause right before the next spike rattles Minji’s brain. 
"Really? With every atom in your body. Tell me again, Minji."
"Every-thing." Minji can barely talk but does so for you, despite you, despite the large dick that is reshaping her insides. "You own everything, Master. You c-can use me daily, everywhere, any-time. I-I mean it!"
You lean down to her and give her a simple, hard thrust to make sure she gets your point.
"You're a good girl?"
"Yes, Master."
"Then call me Daddy," you whisper into her ear and put a hand on her throat, ready to press down on it.
"Thank you, Daddy," Minji rasps before you choke her hard and fuck her absolutely senseless. Orgasm after orgasm shoots through her frame, her existence becomes numb, she is a fleshlight now. The vibrations of her climax become your stimulation and at the last possible second, you pull out of that twitching hole. 
"Get on your knees Hanni," you order in time. Hanni kneels before you as you somehow slide off the bed, legs a bit shaky and with her head thrown back because you could not resist pulling her raven hair, you cum all over her features. "God, you are such a pretty girl. I can't believe such beauty loves cum on her face."
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"It's Daddy's cum," Hanni moans and sucks on your tip to get more on her lips. The rest has mostly covered her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. "Of course I like it!"
"That is right, baby girl, well said," you compliment her and pat her head while she instinctively cleans your cock with superb care. "Did you ever service someone else?"
"No?" Hanni asks and collects your cream off of her stupidly gorgeous face.
"You, I swear to God, you can't be that good right from the start."
Hanni pouts her lips and puts them under your cock. She truly is one in a million, the rare idol who barely hesitates and immediately knows how to do the right things. In many regards, she reminds you of Kazuha, who told you it was her kinks that made her adapt so easily. Maybe this is the case for Hanni as well. Should that make her devotion less impressive?
"Daddy?" Hanni cutely asks and waits.
"Open your mouth, I need to fuck it now."
1K notes · View notes
harstyle · 3 months
Text
the styles’ nanny
Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 7.3k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet
A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!
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Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.
And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.
It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.
But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.
“Y/N, did you hear me?”
“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.
“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”
Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.
“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”
Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.
Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”
“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”
He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”
“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”
Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.
“Okay, thank you.”
“No problem, love.”
“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”
“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”
Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.
But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”
“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”
Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”
“Please, I just want ice cream.”
It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.
“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”
He merely shook his head.
Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.
“What’s wrong, bub?”
Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore
Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.
Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.
Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.
Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”
She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”
Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.
“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.
“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”
“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”
He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, are you sure?”
Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.
“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”
In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.
Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.
“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”
“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”
“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”
“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”
He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”
And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.
Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”
She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.
She could probably indulge a little then, right?
“Yeah, I do.”
He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—
“Wait, no, I can do it.”
He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.
“You can now?”
“Yes.”
He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.
What the fuck was that?
Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.
It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.
So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.
And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.
A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.
It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.
“Daddy?”
Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.
Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”
He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.
“Y/N, you’re still here.”
She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”
He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.
“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”
Her stomach did another flip.
Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!
Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.
“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”
Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”
“Missed you, daddy.”
She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.
Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”
In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”
“Will you be here too, Y/N?”
Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.
But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”
To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”
Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”
“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”
“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”
It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.
After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”
Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”
“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”
She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”
She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.
“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”
She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”
He hummed in agreement.
She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.
“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Kay. Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”
“Night.”
Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.
“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”
“It’s my job to be good to him.”
“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”
“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”
The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.
So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.
She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”
His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”
“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”
It was a lie, of course it was.
“Fine.”
As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.
Shit.
Y/N was crying.
She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?
And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.
Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.
She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.
There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.
But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.
“Y/N?”
She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
What had she done?
“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”
“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“
“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”
“The viper.”
“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”
“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.
When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.
“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”
He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.
He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.
After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”
And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.
“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.
“Harry, I’m sor—“
“Drink the water.”
She almost flinched at his angry tone.
Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”
All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.
“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”
Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.
In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”
She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?
“What?”
“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”
The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.
He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.
Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”
Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it
“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”
He truly did have a point there, she supposed.
But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”
“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”
“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.
“What do you mean?”
He couldn’t be so daft, could he?
“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”
That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.
She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”
He was probably right about that.
“Okay.”
As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.
He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.
“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”
“Um, if you have something?”
She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.
He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”
Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”
Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.
When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”
Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.
Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.
“You’re really nice t’me.”
“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”
“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.
What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.
He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.
It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.
He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.
There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.
It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.
He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.
He would lie awake until sunrise.
Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.
God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.
After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.
“God, Y/N, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”
“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.
He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.
Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.
He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.
“I— are you okay?”
It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”
“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“
His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”
Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.
But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.
“So why bring it up?”
“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?
“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”
And that… well, was partly right.
“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”
Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.
“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“
“I know that—“
“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”
Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.
There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.
“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”
“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”
Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”
He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”
“You act like I don’t know that!”
“Evidently you don’t.”
“Yes I d—“
“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”
It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.
Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.
Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.
“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”
She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d fucked up so badly.
And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.
-
part two!
And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!
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nxuvillette · 2 months
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“I PROMISE, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.”
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GENSHIN MEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A FIGHT
synopsis: you and your boyfriend hardly ever fight, so what happens when you finally have one?
❥- including : tartaglia (childe), cyno, kaeya, wriothesley
❥- note : hi guys !! sorry if this post is kind of shit, i kind of rushed it. i hope you guys enjoy regardless <3 reblogs are appreciated !!
content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, angst, arguing, hurt with comfort, use of pet names (baby), fluff, dumb fights, lots and lots of fluff at the end.
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♡ TARTAGLIA (CHILDE)
you and childe hadn’t spoken for much of the day, and this was due to an argument that happened between you two just before you sat down for some breakfast.
it was stupid, genuinely. 
childe had completely misinterpreted something you had said that morning. you were talking about one of your friends and their relationship. for some reason, childe thought you were comparing your relationship to the one your friend had, and it made him question if he was doing enough to make you happy. one thing led to another, and the two of you bickered over the encounter. you tried to explain yourself, but your boyfriend, being the stubborn man he was, didn’t bother to listen and went off on his own accord.
you and childe hardly had any fights. they would usually resolve after an hour or two, but you hadn’t seen him all day. part of you began to grow worried from his sudden absence. did he go out and do something to hurt himself? was he with somebody else? no, there was no way childe would ever cheat on you. he didn’t even look in another woman’s direction when he saw you that day. 
it wasn’t until sunset when childe had finally returned home to you. he had a few scrapes on his arms which seemed like they came from him battling another enemy, but regardless, he seemed to be in one piece. you were very relieved to see that he was fine. it made you run into his arms the moment he came into the door, which took your boyfriend by surprise. he was under the impression that you were still pissed off at him for the shit that he had pulled early on in the day. he knew he was wrong and he should have apologized, but he didn’t know how to put it into words. sometimes he wished he wasn’t so air headed. 
his arm went around your waist, bringing your body closer to his. the smell of his skin made you calm down. “i thought something bad happened to you..” your eyes didn’t move from the floor. 
childe could sense the worry that was in your voice. he shouldn’t have done that to you. he would never want to make you feel scared or put you under the idea that he would leave you. he wasn’t going to ever leave like that again, ever. “i’m sorry, baby..” he whispered, running his fingers along your backside. “i’m such an idiot.. i shouldn’t have said that shit. i love you way too much to hurt you..” 
you lifted your head to meet his ocean blue eyes. he had this frown on his features. you could see how guilty he felt for putting you in such a position. no matter what, you would always be in love with childe. no small argument would make your feelings for him shift, ever. you knew he could be stubborn at times, and honestly, so could you. all that mattered to you in the end was that you two made up and forget the whole thing. “it’s okay.. i still love you, okay?” you smiled at him, which made his heart skip a beat.
childe couldn’t help but smile, too. he leaned towards you and planted a kiss on your lips. he didn’t ever want to see you frown again. he would do anything to see a smile on your pretty face. “let me make up for it.. how about we take a bath together, hm?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows. 
you nodded your head. “sure..” you grinned.
♡ CYNO
you didn’t expect cyno to get upset earlier. 
cyno was in a bit of a rush that afternoon. he had a lot of things to tend to as the mahamatra, so he typically had a busy schedule. at the time, you had no idea that he had to be somewhere at a certain hour, so when you saw your lover wandering around aaru village by himself, you decided to go and talk with him to ask how his day was.
he kept his responses to you a bit shorter than usual, but that’s how he usually was. cyno was more the type of man to listen more than he did talk, but the more you kept speaking, the more he grew somewhat irritated. he had to meet with candace and discuss something that had occurred on his way there. he had to return as quickly as possible, though, because there were several people who needed his help out there. 
cyno had accidentally snapped at you, which in turn made you fire back at him.
it was very out of the ordinary for him to ever get angry with you. cyno was very patient, and he was especially with you. he was never the kind of man to be rude to you or yell at you, ever, so this threw you off completely. before he could even apologize, you left and went back to the place you two shared together. 
he didn’t return home until later that night. he had been thinking about what he had done all day, and it made him feel guilty for being that way towards you. you were his girlfriend. he loved you more than anybody else, and he managed to hurt your feelings because he was unable to control his very own. cyno hoped you wouldn’t want to leave him. anxiety plagued him the entire day. he wondered if he would return back to you and find that you deserted the home you two stayed in. 
much to his relief, you were lying in bed. you were turned on your side that was facing the window which exposed the vast desert outside. he sat down beside you and watched as your eyes fluttered open at the sudden weight taking over the bed. 
“i’m sorry..” cyno whispered, looking down at you with amber eyes. 
you sat up, crossing your legs on the mattress. you didn’t think he would come back being so apologetic, but you couldn’t help but forgive him. it did hurt your feelings a lot, but he was dealing with so much. it didn’t excuse what he did, but you two never fight. he wasn’t argumentative everyday. “it’s okay.. i just felt like shit for bothering you. i should have considered your schedule..” you didn’t want to look at him, but he tilted your chin to look into your eyes. 
cyno leaned in and hugged you, which took you by surprise. “no need.. i was an asshole for not controlling myself. you didn’t deserve any of that..” he squeezed your body. “i love you.. i hope you can forgive me.”
your hand rested on his shoulder blade. his skin felt warm from the blazing heat of the sun that he was under constantly. “i love you too..” you spoke. “i can forgive you, no worries.”
♡ KAEYA
you and kaeya had been dating for quite a while. since you were his girlfriend, there were some things that you needed to get accustomed to in the relationship.
especially kaeya’s drinking habit.
you didn’t mind that he would go off to the bars some nights to have a few drinks with his friends. hell, you did it a few times yourself with your own friends, but it became an issue when he would come late to your dates due to him being hungover the next day. you knew he couldn’t help but sleep an extra hour or two through the morning, but it had happened a few times and it led up to an argument occurring between you. you claimed it was a bother to you and he wasn’t being considerate of your time and energy.
what made it worse was kaeya usually was the one to make these plans, so for him to just not show up, it felt unfair to you. if he knew he was going to drink a lot, why would he continue to make plans with you the next day? it didn’t make any sense to you whatsoever, and you were tired of him either not showing up or having to go to his house to wake him up.
when you stormed out of his house and the door slammed behind you, kaeya felt immediate regret plaguing his chest. he did everything for you in the relationship and you did the same for him. he felt like he was an idiot for letting his drinking habits get a hold of your relationship. he didn’t have a drinking problem by any means, but he knew when he had too much he wouldn’t want to do anything the next day. you were right. it was unfair of him to miss out on spending quality time with you. he didn’t want to make you feel unimportant or a second priority. kaeya loved you more than life itself. how could he hurt the one person he poured his heart and soul into?
he gave you a bit of time to blow off steam. he knew chasing after you could escalate things further, so he decided to leave you alone for the rest of the day. however, he wasn’t about to let you both go to bed angry with each other.
so, when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, you were quite surprised. you didn’t think kaeya would even bother making an effort to talk things through with you, but he was standing there with an apologetic expression. “can we talk? i understand if not.. but i just don’t want you going to bed pissed at me.” he clutched the flower stems in his hand, hoping you would hear him out.
you nodded your head, inviting him into your home and watching him step inside. kaeya then turned to face you, handing the flowers in your direction. they were your favorite, lamp grass. you loved the way they glowed in the dark. “kaeya.. i’m-“ you started, taking the flowers from him.
“i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to keep missing out on our dates. i was a shitty boyfriend for keeping up with my behavior, and i shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place.” he cut you off, shocking you. “i love you, (y/n), and i don’t want you to think otherwise.”
you stood there for a few moments in silence. you weren’t sure what to say to him, but you could sense his genuine energy in his voice. “i forgive you..” you said, lifting your eyes to meet his. “i don’t want it to happen again, okay? i love to spend time with you and i don’t wanna feel like you dislike my presence.”
he took your free hand into his, placing a soft kiss on the top of it. he had been a gentleman since day one and it seemed like that attribute of him never left his personality. “i love seeing you more than anybody else, please don’t think you’re a burden. i’d do anything to spend any waking moment with you by my side, okay? i won’t ever do it again.” kaeya replied, stepping closer to where you were standing.
you smiled, pressing a kiss on the side of his cheek. he loved how soft your lips felt against his skin. “i appreciate that..” you sounded much happier, which relieved him.
kaeya wasn’t going to do that ever again. he could never lose you, ever.
♡ WRIOTHESLEY
wriothesley was quite a busy man. it was something you knew you were signing up for when you started to date him a few months back. his job was tiring, exhausting even. he had a huge responsibility on his shoulders to carry, and sometimes it stressed him out more than he would like to admit.
it seemed like that stress began to reach its breaking point, because wriothesley hadn’t been acting right over the last few days. you assumed he was just dealing with his job, so you decided to try and see if venting would have any relief to your boyfriend. you two had done it many times before when things got a little hectic in your personal lives. plus, you both trusted each other greatly. you didn’t think he would have an issue with it.
well, you were wrong, unfortunately.
when you made the attempt to speak to your boyfriend about what was wrong, he had a serious attitude, and things escalated to you two both having a fight. you didn’t like the way he was speaking to you and he was becoming upset with you for no reason at all. all you had asked him was if he wanted to talk, but it seemed like that question alone must have ruffled his feathers. 
you two never fought, so this had completely blindsided you.
wriothesley then left for work, leaving you by yourself in the apartment you lived in. it wasn’t your intention to make him angry with you. all you wanted to know was what was troubling him to make him feel so overwhelmed. that fact crept up on wriothesley immediately after he entered his office at the fortress. he shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. it wasn’t right, nor was it excusable. he was the one person who was supposed to make you happy, not hurt.
a few hours later, he returned home a lot earlier than usual. things were slow at the fortress, so he decided to leave early and try to patch things up with you. he found you sitting on the couch with a book in your hands, seemingly trying to read away what had happened earlier between you. you were a bit taken back to see him standing in front of you, but you didn’t know what to say to him. 
“i’m sorry.. i was out of line earlier.” he broke the silence between you. it was like popping a balloon. “i get it if you’re pissed at me.. i can give you space if you’d like.”
you sat there for a few moments. you closed the book in your hands and placed it on the wooden table in front of you. wriothesley was right. he shouldn’t have been that much of an ass to you. you didn’t deserve such treatment, but you loved him. he was never like that towards you and your friends had told you before that random fights are normal. “it’s okay.. i forgive you.” you replied, standing up to go in front of him. “please.. just promise me you won’t do that again.” 
his hands went to cup your cheeks. his thumbs brushed against your smooth skin. you could see how guilty he felt for doing what he had done. “i promise.. i swear, (y/n), i’ll never do that again. i could never hurt you like that, ever again.” he looked down at you with sincerity on his features. 
you leaned in to hug him. wriothesley inhaled the fresh scent of your shampoo and felt immediately calmed from your touch. he loved you, dearly. he could never do that to you again and he vowed to never pull a stunt like that with you ever again.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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obae-me · 4 months
Text
The Reunion We Deserved
I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.
Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!
TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.
Word Count: 4,391
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Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…
Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.
“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”
“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”
Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”
“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.
“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”
Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”
“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”
All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”
“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.
“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”
“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.
The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…
And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.
Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.
After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.
“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.
“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”
“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“
“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.
The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.
This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.
You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.
Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.
Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.
“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”
A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”
The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”
A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.
“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“
A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.
Your eyes went wide.
The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.
The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”
Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.
Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.
Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.
Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.
Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.
White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.
“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.
Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”
Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.
Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”
You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”
That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…
However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.
Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”
“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”
The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.
Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”
At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.
For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”
Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.
But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”
“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”
“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”
“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”
“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”
“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”
“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”
“You belong with us. End of story.”
“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”
“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”
“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”
“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”
“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“
“How much we love you too.”
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mirkoluvs · 8 months
Text
★ WAKE UP
zoro (opla) x fem reader
notes: first time writing for one piece and definitely not the last !!
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“hey, zoro. it’s my turn to talk to you! i don’t really… know what to say”, you muttered, sitting down on the edge of his bed where he laid unconscious.
he had just gotten slashed along his chest in a dual with mihawk that he requested, a deep cut that made him lose lots of blood in a short amount of time. if it weren’t for the owner of the baratie, zeff, who knows where he would be now. even still, zeff said his survival wasn’t guaranteed even after all the fixing he did. according to him, the only thing that could keep him from dying was his crew keeping him grounded on the earth mentally, and that’s how you ended up where you were. each member of the crew took turns talking to him, and you decided to go last. you didn’t even know how to even approach him.
“i just… i understand that you wanna prove yourself, but did you have to go and get yourself hurt like this?”, you muttered. “i can’t even put into words how i felt when i saw you get cut like that, it felt like i did too in a way, yknow? not being able to do anything but watch, it hurt so bad. it made me feel so weak… but that makes me think about how you felt. well, no matter what, you’re the strongest swordsman to me even if you don’t think so. you’re so much more talented than you think and i wish you could see that”, you spoke, your voice cracking a bit. you’re hand crawled over his, giving it a small squeeze. “you have to wake up, zoro…”, you whispered. you felt a tear run down your face, the tear landing on his hand as you sniffled, wiping your face with the back of your other hand.
“quit crying, would you?”, a voice quietly muttered. your eyes widened as your head shot up. you made eye contact with zoro who was looking up at the ceiling. “zoro… ZORO! YOU’RE AWAKE!”, you exclaimed, rushing up to him and looking down at his face. “christ- so loud…”, he complained. your lips curled into a shaky smile, quickly pulling him into a tight hug. “OW- loosen up would you?!”, he groaned of pain, his eyes tightening. “i thought you were dead! don’t scare me like that!”, you said, a small sob coming out as you let him go. his eyes widened at your reaction. were you seriously that worried about him? “of course i’m alive, you really think that would kill me?”, he said. he sighed as his hand slowly cupped the side of your face, a shaky thumb wiping the tear running down your face. “don’t cry, you look stupid”, he muttered, putting his arm down. “jeez, thanks”, you smirked, sniffling a bit.
“i’m not leaving you, luffy, or anyone else on the crew any time soon. so don’t worry so much”, he told you firmly. your eyes widened at his words but quickly softened. “yeah… right”, you nodded. a small moment of silence filled the room before you bent down to his head level. pressing a small kiss to his cheek, you smiled. “i know you won’t. you’re the greatest swordsman after all”, you said quietly. before zoro could even react, your head was already out the door. “GUYS! ZORO’S AWAKE!”, you yelled. commotion arose quickly as luffy, usopp, and sanji ran into the room, crowding around him. his eyes were wide as he looked at you for a second, his cheeks a dusty shade of pink as you smiled, walking out the room.
damn, that woman.
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
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eiightysixbaby · 1 year
Text
12:25 A.M.
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word count: 1.7k
summary: eddie calls you late one night while he’s looking at your photos…. ;)
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut smut smut. this entire thing is just filth from the get-go, sorry not sorry. lots of swearing, eddie & reader masturbate over the phone, lots of dirty talking - eddie and reader are bein nastyyyyy, daddy kink on the low, mention of explicit photos/nudes, if I forgot anything lmk!
author’s note: yeah so uhhhh the eddie sluts discord was having a convo about eddie keeping dirty polaroids of you and thus, this piece of filth was born. i’m so serious there’s barely a plot this is just nastiness, enjoy!!! also: the photos in the photo set above are not meant to represent what reader looks like - they’re just aesthetically pleasing.
*Rriiiiiiiing Rriiiiiiing*
The sound of the phone startles you from your half-asleep state. You’d unintentionally almost fallen asleep sitting up in your bed, television still playing softly in the background. You rub your bleary eyes and turn to the clock as you grab the phone. 12:25am. Who would be calling at this hour?
“Hello?” you say into the receiver, voice a little groggy.
“Hey, sweets. I’m sorry for calling so late,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice on the other end.
“Eds, hi. What’s up, are you alright?” you sit more alert now, wondering why he’s calling you after midnight.
“I’m fine sweet thing, just had a long day at work and I missed you,” his voice sounds breathy, not his usual tone of voice. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“I had kind of dozed off, but it’s fine. What are you up to over there, baby?” you ask him, curling the phone cord around your fingers.
“Oh, y’know… just looking through those sexy Polaroids I took of you. Touching myself a little bit,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, and you feel yourself shudder a little at his words.
Throughout the time you’ve been dating Eddie, he’s gathered quite the collection of explicit photos of you. He loves to take pictures of you in all sorts of positions, snapping shots of you naked on his bed, you split wide open on his cock, you sticking your tongue out while he presses his cock to your mouth, one of your face covered in his cum. You’ve even taken some of your own to sneak into his stash, photos of your tits squished together, or your fingers buried deep in your cunt. Eddie loves them, he looks at them all the time. He keeps the safe-for-work photos of you in his wallet and in his car, but the raunchy ones sit in a box under his bed - for his eyes only.
“Touching yourself to little old me, handsome?” you tease him, pulling your lip between your teeth.
“Fuck yeah baby, it’s like I’ve got my own personal porn star to look at, how could I resist?”
Your cheeks heat up at his response, and you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You know what he wants, know he needs to get off, so you take the bait.
“Mm, wish I was there to touch you instead, Eddie,” you giggle, feeling heat rush to your core at the thought of him spread out in bed, jerking his cock to you.
“Shit, baby, you know I love your hands on me,” there’s a pause, and then, “What are you wearing right now, sweets?”
“One of your t-shirts, you know - the blue and black tie dye one, and a pair of black panties….” you speak slowly, drawing out the words.
“No bra?” he asks, his voice husky.
“No bra, baby. In fact, you can see my nipples through the fabric of the shirt….” you trail off, knowing what you’re doing to him. One of your hands reaches up to toy with your breasts as you speak, as if you’re doing him a favor by touching the parts of you that he can’t right now.
“Fuuuuuuck, I need my hands on you baby. Wish I was there with you right now,” you can detect the strain in his voice, can faintly hear the schlick schlick of his hand moving up and down his cock.
It only turns you on further, and you slowly slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, ghosting circles over your clit. “Mmm, Eds, I need you here right now,” your voice is seductive, pleading.
“Yeah, baby? What would you have me do if I was there with you?” Eddie purrs.
“I’d have you finger my soaking pussy…. two fingers, maybe three… need you to stretch me out,” you’re dipping your own fingers past your entrance as you get the words out, your fingers not reaching even close to the places Eddie’s can reach. “I love when you curl your fingers inside me, you know how to play with me, baby.”
“Fuck yeah I do, sweetheart, shit-” Eddie grunts, and you can tell he’s picking up his pace on his cock. “Wish I was fingering you, hitting that spot you love, getting those pretty sounds out of you-”
“Please, baby, love how you touch me…” you’re begging even though he’s not there with you.
“Would you suck my cock for me, baby? Fit my fat cock down your throat, hm?” he continues on, and his words have your head spinning. Imagining his fingers inside you instead of your own as you work to get yourself off. You’ve never engaged in phone sex before this, really, but with Eddie it feels so natural. It’s a different kind of turn-on to hear him talk to you while you know he’s got his thick fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you.
“Y-yes, daddy. Love having your cock in my mouth, need you to fuck my face…” you’re practically moaning into the phone, head lolling backwards. “Wanna taste you, please Eddie please…”
“That’s my good fucking girl, need to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Love when you swallow my load,” his breath is staggered as he speaks through gritted teeth. “Are you touching yourself for me, baby? Got your fingers deep in that pussy?”
“Yeah, ‘m so wet for you, Eds. Doesn’t feel as good as when you do it, though,” you pout, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, the coil in your stomach tightening gradually.
“Aw, I know sweet thing. Need daddy to take care of you, yeah?” Eddie knows exactly how to talk to you to send you reeling, your eyes screwing shut as you finger yourself, movements growing sloppier.
“Yeah babe, fuck, need you inside me. Want you so bad,” your fingers have set a brutal pace fucking into your dripping cunt, and you're almost positive Eddie can hear how soaked you are as you please yourself.
“Got me rock fucking hard for you, baby, can you hear me stroking my cock to your pretty pictures?” he taunts, but you absolutely can hear the filthy noises in the background - quieting your moans so you can listen better.
There’s a beat, and then you hear him spit into his hand, the sloshing sounds picking up speed and intensity as he presumably starts to pump his cock faster. You plunge your fingers as deep as they’ll go inside of you, curling them desperately to hit that delicious soft spot.
“Yes, fuck, it’s so fucking hot listening to you touch yourself for me,” you’re breathing heavy as you work yourself to orgasm, “Wish my fingers were wrapped around your dick right now.”
“Mmmhhh, I love when you wrap those delicate little hands around me, baby. I’m so big they barely hold me, princess,” he’s smirking as he speaks, loves riling you up thinking about the size of him.
“Yeah, Eds, you’re s’fucking big. Love how you fill me up, daddy,” he revels in the praise, and you hear him chuckle on the other end.
“My little cockslut, loves getting stretched by me, hm?” Eddie’s voice is low, sending electricity right to your core. “Shit, baby, my cock’s twitching just thinking about you… ‘M so worked up.”
“Want you to cum for me, Eds. Are you close? Love it when you cum for me,” you’re whining, fingers now circling your clit in rapid movements, getting closer and closer to your release.
“So close, sweetheart, wish I could cum all over that pretty face of yours,” Eddie moans into the speaker, little whispers of shitshitshit falling from his lips. “This picture’s one of my favorites, baby… my cock buried deep in your pussy from behind… my hand gripping your hair. Pretty ass of yours on perfect display f’me, fuck-” he’s tugging desperately on his cock at this point, whimpering into the phone.
“What about the one with me in handcuffs? Legs spread on your bed, waiting for you?” you hum, egging him on, getting him right to the edge of release as you describe the lewd photo.
Eddie doesn’t answer, just lets out a strangled moan on the other end of the line. The two of you go on like that for a little, mewls slipping past your lips, getting wetter as you listen to him cursing, panting, moaning your name. The soft pads of your fingers work on your clit, your insides feeling like they’re on fire with how worked up you are. Your eyes are shut tight, imagining Eddie settling you on his lap as he fucks up into you.
“Baby - fuck - I’m gonna fucking cum, shit,” Eddie whines, bringing you back to reality for a moment.
“Cum for me, baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you coax him, listening closely to hear the way his breath hitches as he finally lets go.
His moans are short and sporadic as he finishes all over his chest and stomach, and you continue to rub your swollen clit as he catches his breath.
“How you doing over there? Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna cum while you think about me? Bet you wish I was filling you up real good, huh?” Eddie’s relentless, talking you through the entire thing.
“Yes, daddy - fuck! Gonna cum, gonna cum for you, oh my god…” the coil in your stomach snaps finally, feeling yourself plummet into bliss. You’re clenching around nothing, moaning ‘EddieEddieEddie’ as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through you.
“That’s my good girl, you okay sweet thing?” Eddie coos, listening to you pant as your body calms down.
“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How’re you?” you say softly into the phone once you’ve regained some composure, body spent as you lay back onto your pillows. You feel like you’re floating.
“I made a fuckin’ mess of myself, sweetheart, came so hard,” Eddie huffs a laugh, and you smile.
“Hey, Eds?”
“Yeah, sweets?”
“Take a Polaroid of you all messy with your cum. Wanna start a photo collection of my own,” you chew at your lip, getting flustered thinking about how he must look right now.
“Oh, yeah? And why do you want my photos, sweetheart? Wanna get yourself off to them?” Eddie asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you.
“Maybe….” you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.
“Fuck, baby. Can I come stay the night? I need to be inside you right now, no way I can wait till tomorrow,” you can picture the puppy dog eyes Eddie would be giving you if he was next to you right now, and you laugh.
“Yeah, Eds, get over here. Gotta live up to all that talk,” you reply, knowing he’s gonna live up to that talk and then some.
“Want me to bring the camera?” he asks.
“Duh.”
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
Text
A Valentine for You
Summary: Nyx learns about making valentines at school and convinces you to make one that accidentally ends up in Azriel’s hands
Author’s note: doesn’t this sound adorable any plot with Nyx is sure to be the cutest thing ever also this might just be the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written happy valentine’s day babes hope you all enjoyed my valentine’s fics 💕
Warnings: none, sentient house ships you with Azriel
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Nyx came bounding down the stairs, yelling your name as he came in, his wings flapping as fast as his legs. He wasn’t quite large enough to support his weight, but he could get a little extra spring in his step as he ran.
He ran straight into your arms, launching himself into your torso. You laugh at the boy, his backpack comically large on his small frame.
“How was school, Nyxie?” You ask, carrying him into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around your neck as you start to grab the plate of cookies you had hidden earlier. The two of you start munching on cookies, and he gets the entire front of his shirt covered in cookie crumbs. You wipe them off, trying to clean him a bit.
“We learned about Valentine’s day.”
“And what did you learn about it?” You ask, pinching his cheeks.
He swats at your hands, “I don’t know it’s about love and stuff, but I made these cards for everyone.”
He wiggles out of your grasp, putting his bag in the ground to rummage through it. He pulls out a stack of cards, each one colorfully doodled and covered in varieties of glitter, bead, and macaroni noodle the world has never seen.
He shows you each card, going through the message he wrote for each person. You caught a glimpse of one that he snatched away and said, “no peeking! That’s for you!”
“And this one is for Uncle Cassian - I wrote ‘be better’ because he always tells me that.”
You stifle a laugh at the ominousness of receiving a valentine from a child that just tells you to be better, but he continues.
“And this is my one for - wait, where’s my card for uncle Az?”
He frantically searches through the pile, and then moves towards his bag to rifle through it again in hopes of finding it.
Tears start lining his eyes, concern that his favorite uncle will feel unloved on Valentine’s Day for not receiving a card from him.
“Hey, Nyx, how about we make one now, yeah?”
Nyx sniffles, but his wings perk back up, “yeah. Will you make one for him too? It’ll be extra special if he gets one from you!”
You stall, “I haven’t written one in a long time, Nyx. What do I do?”
“My teacher said you can put your feelings in it and your wish will come true! That’s why I asked auntie Nesta to fight with the Valkyries.”
Nyx has no idea of your minor crush on his uncle, how every look of his is burned into your soul. You also can’t deny his little request, so you decide to make one and just destroy it later in the evening. Your crush on him was getting embarassing, and you knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere.
You find yourself writing an incredibly heartfelt valentine, pouring all of your feelings onto the page. You even write Az’s name on the cover of the heart shaped paper. You’re ready to burn it in the fire and make a new one that just says “happy valentine’s day”, when Nyx spills his juice all over the table and on himself.
He starts gettjng upset, a little boy who hates being dirty, every inch his father in that regard, and you rush to pick him up and whisk him away to bathe him.
Unbeknownst to you, while you’re bathing Nyx (and he cries anyway about being wet), Azriel walks into the townhouse, finding the heart shaped paper on the table. Seeing that it’s addressed to him, he assumed it was from his nephew. He had been making valentines for everyone at school, and Azriel was curious if he would make one for his uncle. He knew the little boy was saving it for the holiday, but he couldn’t resist looking inside to see what the card says.
The card in front of him is leagues better than anything Nyx could make, not just in quality but in the content inside.
Hi Az,
Nyx explained to me how they make valentine’s cards in school and how you’re supposed to declare your love, so here I am, a girl in a valentine, wishing desperately you felt the same way about me. Maybe I should give up on this hope you’ll share my devotions.
But hey, I need to get it out, so here it is. I am hopelessly in love with you, will you be my valentine?
He scrutinizes the signature on the bottom, certain that one of his brothers forged it in an attempt for him to confront his feelings.
His heart is soaring at your words at the end, but it quickly fills with dread as he rereads and rereads your words.
“Maybe I should give up on my devotions”?
He can’t let you get over him, not when he’s been trying so hard for the past few months to just tell you how he feels, each time the words unable to come out. The past month every time the two of you had been alone, the words would creep onto his tongue, begging to be let out, but he would shove them down, deep where no one could hear them.
He tucks the card into his jacket, trudging up the stairs to begin plotting his response.
The bath with Nyx pushed the valentine from your mind, but the thought of the card invaded all of Azriel’s thoughts as he paced through his room that night, trying to plan out his next move.
-
Most of the holiday goes by uneventfully. You enjoy walking the street of Velaris, seeing the hustle and bustle of males and females alike trying to find a gift for their beau.
The streets are filled with flowers, money exchanging hands. Most customers leave with at least one bundle of flowers, one female leaving with as many bundles as she can carry.
Your mind races with thoughts of Azriel, wondering if he was doing anything this holiday. In recent years you can’t think of him having any plans, in fact the past three or four he had spent the holiday with you.
You wander home to the House of Wind, moving through the house to drop your market finds off in your bedroom. You come to your room, finding an envelope underneath a rose on your vanity. You walk over, smelling the rose and it smells both flowery and like cedar. The scents linger on the card as well, as you pull it out from the envelope.
You’re expecting a card from Nyx, because he refused to show you your card yesterday, but instead you find your name delicately written on the front of the card in Azriel’s tiny, near script.
You sit in a chair, opening the card to find the entire page full of words.
Dearest,
It’s the holiday of love. New love, old love, rekindled love. I have been trying for weeks on end to get the words out, but I find no excuses holding them back today.
I yearn for you. I yearn for our stolen moments in crowded rooms, I yearn for your gaze meeting mine, a conversation without words, just the colors of our eyes mixing.
My favorite day of the week is Sunday, because I pretend like I haven’t spent the whole week in anticipation of being next to you on the couch in the library. We spend the afternoon reading, discussing our books aloud. Eventually you settle more and more into your seat, your legs stretching across my lap.
I will pretend it is casual for me to place my hand on your calf, as if I am not calculating every movement so as not to scare you. My favorite Sundays are when you fall asleep while reading, because I know you feel safe enough with me to put all your faith into me that I will keep you safe while you slumber.
I know the worst parts of myself, the parts that so many would find difficult to put up with. And yet you have shown nothing but kindness to those parts.
My heart is yours, and if that means only getting glimpses of a life with you, I will cherish them for all time.
Eternally yours,
Azriel
You are awestruck at the words in front of you. You read the card several times, soaking in the cadence of his words, hearing the words in his deep voice.
Mor and Feyre had been trying for months to get you to say something, and a flicker of annoyance passes through you thinking about how vindicated they’d feel at this card.
You jump up, thinking why the hell am I sitting here when a male just confessed his undying love for me? He yearns for me, and you him. You fling open the door, only to find that someone, you assume Azriel, scattered a line of rose petals from your room down the hall.
You follow it, leading you in a trail directly to the library where you and Azriel have spent so many nights staying up, neither of you wanting to leave the other’s company.
You open the doors to find the room covered in flowers. Daisies on roses on lilies, their colors creating no matching scheme. Reds, blues, whites, purples fill your eyes until they land on hazel.
“Hi,” you tell him, all the bravado from the note he left leaving you as you stand in front of him.
“Hi,” he whispers, stepping towards you. Nerves coat that one word, and he clears his throat, willing his voice strong and steady. “Did you get my card?”
You smile, eyes lighting up, “um yes, yes I did. It was lovely, thank you.”
Your mind can’t think of anything else to say. He professed his love for you and all you can do is thank him? Your feet move forward on their own, but your mouth opens again.
“I never knew you were so talented with words.”
The two of you are drawing closer to each other, magnets coming together.
“You got to read my three hundredth draft, so I hope it was worth the read. I’ve never had to resort to such words before, never thought anyone deserved them.”
You breathe in, his scent invading your system. His words a clanging in your mind. “I-um, are these for me?”
You gesture to all the flowers filling the room, unable to linger on his words of devotion, and he chuckles, “yes, they are.”
You make eye contact once again, “they are beautiful, thank you.”
This is uncharted territory, unknown lands. You don’t know what to say, what he wants to hear.
“They reminded me of you.”
Your eyes peer into his, sincerity looking back at you in a midst of hazel and gold. You think of his words in the letter, his sign off eternally yours, and ask the question you’ve been wondering since you began reading the letter the first time.
“Did you mean it?”
You wring your hands in front of you, looking down in fear of seeing rejection in his eyes. You don’t notice him step closer until he’s taking your hands, holding them gently in his own.
“Every word. I have more words, but I thought those got my point across well enough. I was inspired, actually.”
One of his hands removes itself from yours, but his other hand quickly moves to hold both of your hands. He pulls a familiar red card from his jacket, and your cheeks turn the same shade as the card in mortification.
You start opening and closing your mouth like a fish, shock and confusion making words impossible.
“How did you- where did you-what-“ is all that’s able to come out before he’s chuckling and cutting you off.
“I found it on the table yesterday.”
You gasp, “I had to bathe Nyx and I forgot all about it!”
He places the card back into his jacket pocket, his eyes not leaving yours as he moves.
“Did you mean it?”
It’s his turn to be insecure, to be nervous. Vulnerability was not something the shadowsinger did lightly, and he knew your answer could destroy him.
“Every word. I have more, if you want them.”
Echoing his own words back to him, he smiles.
“I’ll take every word you give me as gospel,” he tells you, inching closer to you.
“Kiss me.”
He cups your face, your hands pressing against his chest. His lips gently brush your own, tentative, gentle. You put your hand on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. He responds immediately, moving his hands around your back to pull you into him.
You’re panting, your lungs wanting air but the rest of your body wanting him. The room is loud with the sounds of your lips connecting and reconnecting, breathy moans escaping from both of you.
You have no idea how long you’re swept up in kissing him until your brain begins working again, and a question comes to mind. You pull away from him, a groan leaving him as you do so. You only make it a few inches from his lips when you find the words.
“How did you get all of these in here without my noticing? Also what if I had come in here before my room?”
The whole time you were talking, his gaze is focused on your mouth, and he even moves forward slightly, as if the urge to kiss you was overwhelming him. Once you finish speaking he kisses your lips again before answering. “You almost caught me in the city, but I hid behind a massive bundle of sunflowers. And I may or may not have asked the house to lock the doors for you.”
To reiterate his point the house locked and unlocked the doors behind you.
“How’d you do the rose petals?”
“What rose petals?” He asks, the question breaking his eye contact with your mouth
“There were rose petals lining the hallway, telling me to come here.”
“I thought you knew to come here because of the letter.”
Confusion lines both of your faces until the house dumps a giant pile of rose petals onto the two of you.
You both laugh at the message the house was sending, and you laugh even further as Azriel begins kissing you and the house makes a big deal of locking the doors again.
You both laugh as you kiss him again, and he picks you up, laying you down on the bed of rose petals before lying on top of you.
“Who knew the house was such a romantic?”
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mandarinmoons · 22 days
Note
hmmmmm maybe reader being drunk flirty at a bar or something in front of the team and spencer is trying SO hard to save face but its not happening because reader is obsessed with him?
and ofc the team is teasing the hell outta him and will never let it go
https://www.tumblr.com/mandarinmoons/746776666636976128/ok-i-need-this-line-in-a-fic
ugh sorry that if that sucks
No no that certainly does not suck hehe
Not many knew this, but those who did (also known as Penelope Garcia) knew that you had quite the little crush on your coworker Spencer Reid. During breaks you’d go to Penelope’s cave and half of the time you’d gush about how cute Spencer looked in the outfit he chose for the day or how your hands brushed as you reached for the same mug in the kitchen as you both craved some coffee. In other words, whenever he was around, you were toast.
After finishing an extremely exhausting case the team decided to head out to a bar and you were determined not to hold back with drinks. A few glasses of wine and a round of shots later you felt like you were floating. Spencer kept his eyes on you with great concern and as you wobbled your way to the bar to get another mojito, he was on your tail and wrapped an arm around you to help steady you.
“Easy now,” you leaned to the side and Spencer pulled you close to him, but because of your shaky legs you ended up face planting into his chest.
“Wow,” you giggled and patted Spencer’s chest as you looked up at him. 
Spencer’s cheeks were getting noticeably red and it was visible for the rest or the team back at the booth. You could hear them chuckling and teasing Spencer to “go get ‘em!”.
“Oh hey, how’d these end up here?” you took Spencer’s hands and placed them around your waist, even though you were the one initiating the flirty banter you still felt butterflies swarm your stomach.
“H-Hey, let’s go sit down, okay?” your actions were clearly making the man nervous and it only made you want to tease him more. Sober you might never be able to get the right words out, but drunk you decided to take matters differently.
“Nooo, I wanna be at the bar with you,” pouting your lips and fluttering your lashes made Spencer’s heart skip a beat, how could he say no to you? You couldn’t tell, but he did have a bit of a crush on you as well and seeing you act this way with him did fill him with joy.
“Okay okay, only for a little yeah?”
You nodded and Spencer helped you sit down at a stool and kept his arm around you so you wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor. You got the drink you wanted and Spencer made sure you took small sips so you wouldn’t rush to get another one. As much as he had a hard time saying no to you he didn’t want to end up taking care of a hung over you in the morning, not that he didn’t want to, but because of his fear of germs he knew he wouldn’t be able to clean up your puke.
Slowly you rested your head on the counter and Spencer reached over and brushed the hair from your face. You stirred a bit and leaned into Spencer’s hand as his fingers rested on your cheek. 
Spencer loved the affection you’d shown him tonight and he wished that it would’ve happened during different circumstances. He knew that alcohol made people act irrationally and the chances of you being so loving could be added up to that, however, alcohol also showed people’s true feelings and the chances of you liking back were the same and that’s all he needed to know.
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fleursbending · 1 year
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼
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The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.
You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.
The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.
Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.
It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.
At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.
You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.
It was Ao'nung and his crew.
"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.
"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.
You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.
"No one is here to help you, Y/n."
They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.
"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.
"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.
Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.
Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.
The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.
Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.
"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."
Had it really been that long?
"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.
"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.
You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.
"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.
Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.
"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"
"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.
If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.
That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.
Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:
"We shouldn't push it, not now."
"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.
Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.
Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.
Something's wrong with our daughter.
Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.
Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?
Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.
From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.
They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.
So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.
Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.
If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.
"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.
"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.
"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.
They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.
At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.
Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?
But then it came.
It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.
It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.
Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?
"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.
Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."
Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.
Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.
"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.
He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.
"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.
You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.
Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.
"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."
Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.
Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.
Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.
Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.
All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"
And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.
You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.
A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.
All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?
Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.
"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.
"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.
"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.
Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."
Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.
"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.
Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.
"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.
Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.
Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.
"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.
"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.
"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.
They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.
It's been a while.
Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.
In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.
She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.
Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.
"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.
Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."
"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.
Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.
Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.
The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.
"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."
Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."
Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"
You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.
"It's us against the world." You mumbled.
Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."
Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.
Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."
Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"
You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"
"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.
Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.
"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.
"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.
Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.
But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.
"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.
She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.
"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.
"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.
You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.
"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.
"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.
Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.
Our daughter is going to be just fine.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
bonus:
Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.
Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.
He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.
"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.
Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."
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𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡
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helen-with-an-a · 27 days
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Black Eyes
Hi. So this was a request that I got for a teen!R getting jumped by a fan and the team looking out for them. So here it is - again, I have aged R up a little bit (18/19 rather than 15/16) but I hope you enjoy it.
Barca Femeni x Reader
Description: R gets attacked on her way home and the team come to her aid.
Word Count: 1.6k
TW: Injury, violence
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You hurt. That was the first thing that you noticed as you woke up. Everything ached. Your toes, your legs, your hips, your waist, your chest, your face, even your hair hurt. You knew you shouldn’t have walked through the alleyway on the way home. How many times had Lucy and Alexia drilled it into you? ‘Don’t walk where there are no streetlights’. You had initially dismissed them as the overprotective worriers that they were, but now you really wished you had listened to them.
It was a rare rainy day in Barcelona, and you were trying to rush home. You hadn’t brought an umbrella with you, because why would you? You live in warm and sunny Barcelona now, not wet and windy London. You had your doubts about going down the alley, but it would cut your walk home in half, and you were already starting to shiver.
You hadn’t seen the man hiding at the end; otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone down it. But by the time you realised someone was there, you were basically at the end, and it would’ve been more awkward to stop and turn around.
“Oops, lo siento. Gracias.” You smiled weakly as you hurried past him.
You could feel his eyes on you as you continued your walk home.
You could hear his footsteps as you picked up your pace.
You could smell the alcohol on him as he drew nearer.
You could see the large Real Madrid tattoo on his bicep.
You could taste the blood in your mouth as your head hit the ground.
You knew you should move. You needed to get up and go to training. You needed to assess the damage done to you. You needed to do a lot of things. But you just couldn’t. It hurt to blink, so the thought of the pain that would consume your body if you tried to sit up, move off the bed and walk was unfathomable.
You don’t know when you feel back asleep – somewhere in between hoping someone could take away this pain for you and trying to work out what to say to people, probably. But your phone startled you. The loud, shrill noise made you twist painfully away from the sound. You just let it ring out; whoever it was and whatever they needed from you would not be worth the pain that it would answer it. The silence was almost just as painful as the ringing – your ears buzzing in the quiet.
LUCY (5 missed calls)
ALEXIA (3 missed calls)
KEIRA (1 missed call)
The herculean effort it took to open your eyes – well, one eye; the other refused to open – was not a good sign. The buzzing started again.
JONA
“Hello?” You answered. You almost didn’t recognise your own voice for how scratchy it was.
“Hola, solo queria ver donde estabas,” Jona explained, clearly anxious over the sound of your greeting. “Son casi las 10.30 y aún no te has registrado.” You didn’t understand what was happening; your head hurt too much for Spanish.
“In English, please,” you begged. There was some shuffling on his side before a different voice answered.
“Pollito?” That bloody nickname—Lucy had christened you ‘Chick’ (short for Chicken) when you first arrived at national camp; your gangly arms and legs, too long for your body, and your timid nature suited the nickname well. And it had followed you to Barcelona. “Where are you? It’s 10.30, and you’re not here.” Ona seemed calm, if a little stressed.
“Oni?” You sounded horrific.
“Are you sick? Oh, Déu meu, you sound awful, no offence.” The stress levels in her voice sounded more intense now and did little to help the pounding in your head.
“Ow,” you croaked out.
“What? Are you ok?” You could easily imagine her face pinched with worry and concern as she tried to find someone who could help. The sound you let out did not help her calm down—you think it was supposed to be another complaint about your pain, but it was definitely an indiscernible high-pitched squeak instead.
“Vale, vale, vale. Just … just stay there, sí?” like you could move, even if you wanted to. “I’m going to get Lucy … and Keira … and Alexia,” she started listing the names of people that would be helpful in this situation. Lucy and Keira were your national teammates; you had known them for most of your professional career. You often looked to them for guidance and reassurance. Alexia was your captain; she wouldn’t take kindly to Ona leaving her out of this - she also considered you a little sister, maybe even more so than Alba. You think she ended the call, but you were slipping back into dreamland before you could be sure.
The knocking at the door was what next woke you up. It was loud and incessant. You groaned, wishing they would stop and go away. You were out of luck, however, when you heard the tell-tale signs of a key being placed in the lock and your door opening. Only one person had a key.
“Chick,” Lucy called out. You groaned even louder and pulled the blanket over your head, trying to hide yourself from the world. You hadn’t seen what you looked like, but the right side of your face hurt more than the other, as did your hands and knees, so you assumed they took the brunt of the damage.
“Chick, you in here?” Keira shouted, her voice sounding like it was coming from the kitchen.
“Pollita?” Alexia sounded closer, too close to be in any other room besides your bedroom. You moaned in response. “Ella esta aqui,” she shouted to the others, the thundering footsteps echoing painfully as they barged into your room. You felt the blanket being tugged down, and you tried to resist it, holding onto it fractionally tighter.
“Hey, no, Chick. C’mon, lemme see you,” Lucy said softly, slowly working her magic as she rubbed your shoulder, thinking you were ill and didn't want her to see you like that. You let her pull the duvet down, not liking the loud gasp she let out when she caught a look at your face.
“What happened?” she asked tightly. You mistook her firmness for anger and couldn’t help the tears as they broke free. “Hey, no, no, no. Don’t cry,” she looked like she wanted to hug you but didn’t know where or what would bring you comfort or just more pain—her arms flapped helplessly mid-air.
“¿Qué sucede? Vas a estar enferma? Necesitamos ir al hospital? Qué está pasando?” You had never heard Alexia so panicked. Keira was quiet—too quiet. She didn’t like Lucy's look of fear or the tension in her voice.
“Chick?” Lucy asked again.
“I fell,” you lied. You don’t know why you lied, but you did. You couldn’t tell her that you ignored her concerns for your safety just because of some stupid rain. You were English – you dealt with rain all the time.
“Lucía, què està passant?” Alexia marched over, gasping loudly when she saw you. “Oh, honey.” The switch was dizzying. One moment, she was angry that no one was telling her what was wrong with you, and the next, she was as soft as a feather, gently coming to kneel by the side of your bed.
“Te caíste, sí?” She didn’t believe you; no one got this amount of bruising just from a fall. And there was something about how you avoided eye contact and scratched at your nails—your go-to trait when lying. “No creo que lo hicieras, pollita. Tell me what happened.” The gentleness was unlike anything you had ever heard from Alexia—she often provided solutions, playful aggression, and (brutal) honesty. Something must have really scared her to make her behave like this. You must have really scared her.
“I—I went through the alleyway,” you said weakly. You expected her and Lucy to look at you in a disappointed way, but no such thing was shown your way—just faces full of concern and worry. “There was a guy … I don’t really know what happened.” You weren’t intentionally vague; you genuinely did not know what had happened to you.
“Ok, Chick. That was very brave of you to tell us.” Lucy rubbed a soft finger over your cheek, wiping away the tears whilst avoiding the most apparent bruising. “We’re going to help sit you up, ok? I’m on your right, and Alexia’s on your left. We’ll get you to the bathroom and we’ll have a look at you properly, ok? Keira’s in the kitchen and will get you some food and drink.” She explained what would happen before she did it, helping to guide you to sit on the toilet.
Getting up with their help wasn’t as painful as you had expected, but maybe it was because you had rested your entire body weight on them. They held a mirror up for you as you began to examine yourself. Your eye was swollen, and a deep dark bruise was beginning to appear, and your cheek had a nasty red mark on it, but the rest of your face seemed unharmed. Your hands were cut, and so were your knees. You don’t know whether it was the pain or the tiredness or the events of the last 24 hours catching up with you as you slumped forward, your brain quietening as Lucy’s soft smell encased you and Alexia’s warm Spanish flooded your senses. You could her Keira’s hushed tones as she made her way around your kitchen, clearly on the phone to someone.
“Chick, it’s okay. We’ve got you,” Lucy said, smoothing your hair down as you rested your head on her shoulder.
“Nadie te va a hacer daño, lo prometemos.” Alexia added.
And you believed them. They would definitely keep you safe.
I wasn't quite sure about the ending, but I hope you liked it <3
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g0niki · 1 month
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camera's on: take two ── y.jw p.js
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camera's on (pt.1) (read me first!!!)
pairing: bf!jungwon x afab!reader x classmate!jay
word count: 2.3k+
content: no protection (don't be like them.), oral (m&f receiving), mxm (no penetration, but more than kissing), exhibitionism, dom!jay, switch!won, sub!reader, jw and reader are no thoughts head empty, creampies, recording. lmk if i missed anything! minors dni.
a/n: i was feeling silly and i didn't proof read🤸. please share your thoughts with me in the comments, reblogs, or my inbox! I also won't be adding more to 'camera's on' (at least as of right now) but i will still write for jaywon and other duos!! going to try and write more about the other members 🤞
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jungwon had been standing on the tip of his toes for the whole week, eager for the upcoming friday. 
won bit on the end of his pencil, uninterested in his lecture about the mayan empire and the legacy they left behind. his focus was completely locked in on the analog clock dangling above the exit. the hands ticking and taunting him with every passing second, the pencil sitting in between his teeth being bent up as he bit down harder and harder.
unfortunately, the first tape had been lost but luckily for him, jay was feeling generous enough to allow another session free of charge (as long as he would have a feature). 
he knew you would already be home getting ready, probably letting jay get comfortable and set up while he’s forced to miss out on even the smallest of interactions. 
the thought of you and jay getting started up without him almost being enough to make him leave his lecture early.. yet at the same time he wouldn’t mind.
god, he hopes that’s what the two of you are doing. 
and just before he could get lost in the thought, imagining jay’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue as he rushes down the hall of your shared apartment, his professor is dismissing the class.
【☆】★【☆】
jungwon fumbles with his keys, struggling to get the right one into the keyhole. his bag tugging down on his shoulder as he fumbles with the doorknob, forcing his way into the small apartment.
only to be welcomed by silence. 
he knew you were home, you hadn’t told him about a change of plans. he lets his bag fall onto the floor next to your couch, eyeing the two pairs of shoes next to the entrance, clearly indicating the presence of both you and jay. 
“baby? did you guys set up?” he calls out as he creeps towards the room, the only place you and jay could be.
his stomach turned, anticipating what was going on behind the closed door. he could hear jay’s hushed whispers, the conversation between you too being inaudible. 
jungwon opened the door to the very scene he was wishing for. you were sitting between jay’s legs, your own splayed open as the older boy spread your folds,  the camera pointing directly towards the two of you. 
“good girl, you held in your sounds til jungwon could make it home.” jay used his free hand to push back the sweaty strands of hair off of your face. 
your cheeks were flushed, your face scrunched up as you used all your might to try and not make a single sound. 
“she’s waiting on you won,” jungwon's jaw slightly dropped, admiring the sight of the two of you. your naked forms pressed up against each other and waiting for him.
“you can let it all out now pretty.” the moment you heard your boyfriend’s smooth voice you were throwing your head back against jay’s shoulder, a strained moan leaving your throat as your back slightly arched and you forced your pelvis further into jay’s hand.
jay hadn’t even put his fingers inside of you, only playing with your clit and tracing the outsides of your hole lightly. he wouldn’t go as far as penetrating you in any sort of way without your boyfriend around and he was glad he didn’t. the way you were dripping down onto his fingers and leaving his hand soaked was amusing to him. 
you were so easy to toy with, almost as if you had never been fucked. and that made him want to tease you even more.
“why don’t you come warm up too jungwon?” jay so easily picked you up, moving your body next to him and signaling won to him. “this week looks like it’s been hard to you, hasn’t it?”
jungwon dumbly nodded, walking over to stand in between jay’s open legs. 
“mm, both of you are too dumb to use your words today. maybe if i help you relax a bit you’ll start speaking up, yeah pretty boy?” 
jay’s hands found jungwon’s, the older boy standing up to now tower over him. moving the two of them around and giving jungwon his former place on the edge of the bed. 
you watched in awe as jay tugged down jungwon’s loose sweats. freeing his painfully hard and swollen member, letting it slap against his hoodie. 
won moaned at the feeling, his sensitive tip rubbing against the cotton material and leaving a dab of precum. 
“both of you are so needy, look at this.” jay lightly blew on jungwon’s tip, his cock jumping in response.
“please hyung.” won’s voice was whiney, and you clenched your legs together watching. your boyfriend’s needy response has you pouting, you hated seeing him not get taken care of.
“come on jay, he’s asking nicely.” you crawled up behind your boyfriend, sitting on your knees and placing light kisses and licks along your boyfriend’s neck. 
“oh, so you can speak?” jay laughed lightly, slapping jungwon’s thigh just to get a reaction. “lucky i’m feeling extra nice today.”
before the two of you could even process it, jay is wrapping his lips around jungwon’s cock. his tongue gently tracing the underside of his tip, won’s body shuddering in response.
jay didn’t bother to take any more of jungwon in his mouth, only paying the swollen end any attention. the both of you knew not to ask for more.
jay’s eyes looking up at the both of you. you were doing your best to feel included, marking up every open surface and leaving the prettiest purple marks on jungwon’s neck, but jay could see the subtle pout on your face. he knew you wanted to feel included. 
he slowly pulled off of jungwon’s tip, letting it rest against his bottom lip for a moment. the saliva serving as a gloss for his lips, jungwon’s member getting more excited by the moment, jumping as jungwon let every single groan and moan leave his throat.
“oh my fucking gosh hyung.” jay wasn’t even doing anything at the current moment yet won felt like he was about to spill all over the cameraman’s face. 
“hey pretty, go grab the camera for me.” your eyes immediately lit up at jay’s command, pushing yourself off the mattress and grabbing the device. “now hand it to jungwonnie and get down here with me.” 
won felt like he was going to faint. the image of you sitting on your knees next to jongseong sends his brain into overdrive. the evident size difference between you two, the rough and dark look jay had in comparison to your soft and head-empty appearance giving him whiplash. 
he watched as jay grabbed the back of your head and had you lean closer to jungwon’s stiff cock, forcefully placing you face-to-face with it.
jay places the tip of jungwon’s cock onto your lips, tapping it against the bottom of your mouth a couple of times, the both of them groaning at the sight.  
“i can’t take this anymore.” 
almost as if it were on cue, jay is leaning forward and sandwiching jungwon’s tip between the two of your lips. his tongue coming out to fight with yours and caress the sensitive end all at the same time.
jungwon’s hands gripped the camera. he could’ve sworn he was hearing colors at this point. 
the way you whined against him was driving him insane. the two tongues providing extra stimulation and the whole view being displayed on the camera’s monitor getting him even harder. 
he could see the tears pricking your eyes, how desperate you were to please him and keep up with jay. 
he felt bad looking at his pretty girl lack so much attention, so he did what any good boyfriend would do. 
he pushed his leg closer to your core, watching as you immediately used it to get yourself off. the material of his sweats rubbing against your clit and giving you the extra energy you needed to drool on his cock and start kissing down the base. 
won tangles his hand in the older’s hair, pulling the boy off of him and admiring his lustful eyes and sharp jaw. 
“what won?” he looked uninterested in what jungwon had to say, if it wasn't for the bulge firmly pressing against his pants jungwon would've almost thought he didn't want to be there.
“look at her. she’ll take anything right now.” won gave jay a fake pout, the two of them watching how you licked up and down won’s member, paying special attention to your favorite vein. 
jay quickly grabbed the camera from won’s hands and focused the lens on you. capturing your eyes pinched tightly together as your hips desperately rutted up and down. 
"holy shit..." won’s neck was thrown back, his member shooting out cum and decorating your cheeks and eyelashes. 
the two of them watch as you swipe the fluid off your face and scoop it into your mouth instead, locking eyes with the camera and giggling.
“camera’s going back up, get on the bed.” jay moves towards the tripod, setting up his camera once again, slightly zooming in and only keeping the bed within the frame. “look at you two, so desperate.”
the camera displays both you and won laying on your sides and sloppily making out. won’s hands clutch at your waist, pulling you closer and rubbing his cock against your clit. the repeated nudging of his head making you whine into his mouth and he can’t help but suck up every single noise you make.
jay lets his cock throb at the view, his head dripping beads of precum as he uses his pointer finger to lightly graze the end of his cock. 
“go on jungwonnie~ fuck her already.” 
you pull away for a moment, hands in his hair and admiring his glassy eyes. “I want it so bad, give it to me please~” you slide your hand between the two of your bodies,  lifting your leg and lining up his member with your entrance. 
jungwon’s hips jump forward on instinct. his dick pushing into you and feeling the warmth of your velvety walls, squeezing his eyes shut and rutting into you. the thrust are short, only pulling out maybe an inch or two before slamming his hips back into yours as he eagerly chases his release. 
“please, fuck- fuck i’m going to cum.” he buries his face into your chest, kissing the tops of your breast. his kisses become messier and messier, leaving marks behind as he speeds up the pace of his hips, his pelvis coming into contact with your clit every time he fucks up into you, ticking you closer and closer to your high . “i’m filling you up- fuck…”.
the warm thick liquid coating your inside, sending you over the edge. he pushes this face into your boobs more, biting down on the supple flesh. his teeth sinking in hard enough to have you squirming, possibly drawing a bit of blood. 
the both of you panting in silence for a moment before jay speaks up, startling the both of you. 
“let’s get our final scene, okay?” he gets in the bed behind you, grabbing your smaller frame and sliding you off of won’s sensitive cock. “gonna make you feel real good princess.” 
he lays flat on his back, pulling you on top of him and pressing your back on top of his chest. his dick now aligned with your cunt, the mixture of you and jungwon dripping down onto his thick shaft.
without warning he’s pushing you down onto his length, won’s cum helping ease the stretch.
“so fucking tight, no wonder he cums so quick.”  jay uses his hand to lightly apply pressure on your lower stomach, heightening the feeling of his dick.
won dumbly watches, his mouth slightly hanging open in awe at the sight. 
“won… need more~” you squeak out to him. you were so close to being gone, his pretty girl being so so good for jay. taking him so well and still wanting more. 
no one would ever be able to satisfy you the way he does. fucking jay, yet still needing him. 
and who was he to deny you?
jungwon crawled over and settled himself between the tangled mess of legs.
leaning down so closely to your stuffed cunt and blowing against it. your body jolting at the feeling, making his eyes light up and a light smirk settle on his lips.
“look at that pretty, the way you clench around him is so cute.” your back arches against jay’s chest. the older wrapping his arms around you to hold you still.
looking down you see won lean in and wrap his soft lips around your clit. suckling on it softly, giving you the last bit of pleasure you needed, but he doesn’t stop there. 
his tongue lolling out of his mouth and moving down to circle your cunt, bringing pleasure to both you and jay. 
jay’s thighs shake at the feeling, and jungwon likes that reaction. 
the younger boy moves down even further, taking jay’s balls into his mouth and sucking on them for a moment before pulling them out of his mouth with a pop. won sticks out his tongue and licks jay from his balls up to where he is inside of you. 
sliding his wet muscle into your cunt alongside jongseong’s cock, sliding against the sensitive vein. 
the feeling of won’s nose bumping against your bruised clit making you squirm and scream, tears welling up in your eyes as you babble out nonsensical begs and pleases as you cum. 
 jay adding more to the mess inside you with the final flick of jungwon’s tongue against his thick cock. 
jungwon sits back, watching the two of you grab onto each other and ride out your highs with a satisfied smile on his face.
“that was better than the take we lost.”
“oh yeah about that, i never lost the take.” you and won snapping your necks to look at jay. “what? i couldn’t pass up on another threesome with you two.” 
ᯓ★
@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.
🏷️: @pansies-garden
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odoraful · 1 month
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Domestic Bliss
characters: diluc, wanderer, childe content: sfw, modern au, established relationship, fluff !! a/n: i was scouring pinterest looking the most fitting inspo rooms for each of them hehe
Diluc
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Your shared home is an old-fashioned but charming house with a tiled roof and a brick archway leading to the entrance of the door. Diluc has a good eye for style — all the furniture pieces you select together are warm and elegant, perfectly matching with the vintage style home.
He’s a bit of a craftsman, and when you moved in he custom built bookshelves just for you. Your house has traces of Diluc’s handiwork: a wooden tissue box cover, tile coasters, a ceramic chess set.
Being a peak acts of service man, if he notices that there’s something inconveniencing you that can be mended, he’ll try to find a way to fix it. That wooden chair that wobbled yesterday when you sat down on it? The next day, it’s miraculously levelled. Always struggling to find your keys before you leave the house? There are now little hooks on the wall where you can easily hang them. He doesn’t make a huge show of it, but you’ll always kiss him on the cheek and say that you should repay him with something.
“There’s no need. Seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” He replies, running a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red.
The house is IMPECCABLY cleaned — the chores are shared out between the two of you, and the both of you work like a well-oiled machine. He’ll insist that you shouldn’t carry anything too heavy though! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself :(
One of the things that Diluc wouldn’t ever trade is getting the chance to cuddle with you in the evening on the couch. He’ll let you play with his hair and try out different styles, comforted by the feeling of your fingers running through it.
Sometimes, he’ll come home late from work tired and perhaps a bit grumpy, but the sight of you will change his mood completely.
At the sound of jangling keys and the front door creaking shut, you rush out of the bathroom and down the stairs. 
“(Y/N), I’m home!” You hear Diluc’s voice call out to you.
The day had felt far too long for him, and with far too many headaches for him to deal with. The only thing that he looked forward to at the end of it all was to see you again. 
Hearing the patter of your slippers, he looks up. It takes everything within him to keep composed at your appearance. Having just gotten out of a hot shower, your cheeks were tinted pink, hair still damp and slicked. Diluc’s eyes trailed to your clothes, a matching pair of flannel shirt and shorts. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding his breath stuck in his throat. It baffled him how gorgeous you were even in pyjamas.
Wordlessly, he reaches towards you. You look down at his hands and see as they fasten the remaining top two buttons of your sleeping shirt. In your hurry to greet him at the door, you forgot to dress properly. 
“I can’t believe I missed that...” You sheepishly say, observing his hands as they linger on your shirt. Your senses told you something was off.  “Did you have troubles at work today?”
The worry in your eyes melts his heart. Of course you were the one to peer through him and know exactly how he was feeling. 
“A few clientele at the bar today were-” He sighs, still fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, recalling the events of the day, “-difficult to manage to say the least.” He lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” 
Your arms instinctually wrap around him and he collapses into them. Tightening your embrace, he rests his head on your shoulder.
“Diluc, I just took a shower.” You say with a light giggle, trying to pull your hair away from his face.
He feels your breath close to his ear and he wishes he could have recorded that laugh for himself to hear it over and over again. 
“I could tell.” He breathes deeply. “Is this a new shampoo?”
“Well yes, but what I meant from that is that my hair is still wet!”
You feel him smile against you. “It doesn’t bother me. Just a few more seconds, please. I need to recharge.” 
Wanderer
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You share an apartment together since you travel to and from the same university. Although you’re studying different degrees and have different schedules, you’ll both make an effort to spend time together at home during the weekdays. 
You and Wanderer leave little notes cheering each other on and stick them to the walls or the fridge before you leave, or sneak them into pencil cases or onto laptop screens. He has a small box on his desk where he collects all your notes, neatly folding them up to preserve them.
Wanderer enjoys having the home quite minimalist. Just the essentials will do, but the two of you do splurge a bit more on your study space —  the comfiest chairs, wide desks, tactile keyboards — anything to liven up having to do assignments all the time.  
When you’re feeling too tired or distracted from your own studies, you’ll walk over to his desk and try to sit on his lap while he works. He’ll attempt to exert some self-control and reject your wishes, but eventually gives in after seeing your pout.
“Just because you’re distracted doesn’t give you any right to bother me.” He grumbles, resting his chin on your head.
He warns you that if you do decide to put plants in the house, you are responsible for them. Little do you know that he’s secretly also invested in their health. On mornings when you’re in a rush and forget to water them, he’ll spritz them with your spray bottle thinking to himself: If you died (Y/N) would be devastated, so don’t even think about it.
His favourite room is the bedroom. It’s a place for both of you to escape the stresses of being a student and relax together.
The alarm clock beeps and you wiggle in bed, reaching over a hand to quickly silence it. Bright sun filters in through the curtains, its light diffusing into the room. 
You force your eyes open and sit up, your body bent over like a crooked branch. Movement beside you pulls your attention as Wanderer shifts in his sleep. You can’t deny how pretty he looks even at rest. His long lashes fanned out under closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. His expression is that of pure peace. You know that’ll soon disappear when you both need to properly wake up and prepare for classes.
“Hey, it’s time to wake up,” you whisper, carefully coaxing him from slumber. 
Wanderer opens his bleary eyes ever so slightly, then immediately closes them. He mumbles something of refusal. You roll your eyes in resignation. When it comes to sleep, he acts like a child sometimes. You turn to get out of bed. 
Two arms wrap around your waist and yank you back. You stumble into the sheets with a yelp. Wanderer adjusts the blanket over you and pulls you closer to him with one hand. 
“Not yet.” His voice is low and scratchy, his words slurred. “Want more time in bed… with you.” 
You sigh softly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair to detangle it. “You do this almost every morning. You’re never going to attend your lectures on time.”
He replies by nuzzling into your neck, and you hear nothing but his slow breaths. His peers would have sooner called identity fraud than believe the stony and scholarly Wanderer to be this clingy and affectionate in the morning. However, in the privacy of just you, it’s become easy for him to let down his guard. 
“Don’t try to get out of this by pretending to be asleep.” You say, deadpan.
There’s a stutter in his breathing as you catch his obvious charade. 
“Stop worrying. I’ll just watch the recording.” He finally responds. 
You realise in a fluster just how close your faces are, barely inches apart. As if sensing this, Wanderer opens his eyes once again, this time there’s a glint of mischief in them. 
He taps his forehead lightly against your own. “And besides, why would I want to spend my mornings in a noisy lecture hall when I can be with you in peace and quiet?”
Childe
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You’ve been living together for a while now, and your home has transformed into what can only be described as organised chaos.
If Childe kept up with his interior designing eagerness, it would have been complete maximalism, but you were there to contain his excitement and still ensure your home was still practical. 
The two of you love collecting pillows, plushies and blankets, which adds even more to the cosiness! However, one day you tried to sit down on the couch and realised it was more pillows than actual seat space. In a fit of laughter, you and Childe ruled that you would rotate between different cushions every so often so you could get your couch back. 
Childe will still come home with flowers or sweets (sometimes both) as gifts for you on random nights. He’ll stand on the doorstep looking like a lovesick teenage boy asking his crush out on a date. Taking them from his hands, you’ll ask what the occasion is.
“Well, there isn’t a particular occasion.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Celebrating you should be an everyday thing.”
Board game nights are taken very seriously. You have a bookshelf filled with different types of them. Whether it’s a classic game of UNO or Jenga, or something a little more strategic, he's always hyper-competitive. You also have special punishments for if one of you loses, which are harmless but maybe a little embarrassing (One of his favourite punishments for you is ‘For the entire day tomorrow, Childe will only call (Y/N) by the cheesiest pet names’). 
MASSIVE kitchen since he loves to cook. He keeps a book of recipes from his mum and has since added new ones of his own that he has shared with you. 
“Could you come over here, baby?”
You follow your partner’s voice and the scent of something freshly baked into the kitchen.
Childe is standing behind the counter, his face in deep focus. He takes one of an array of heart-shaped biscuits and dips half of it in a bowl of chocolate before placing it on a lined baking sheet. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, exposing his forearms. His muscular build is sharply juxtaposed by the cream-coloured apron tied around himself, which has a little teddy bear embroidered in its centre. 
You approach the kitchen bench, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are they ready yet? Can I try one?” You eagerly ask. 
“Not quite, I need help dipping the rest of these into chocolate.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, shaking the tension out of them.
“That being said,” he grins, extending a hand towards you across the kitchen bench as an offer, “would you do me the honour of being my baking assistant for a little?” 
Chuckling at his dramatics, you delicately place your hand in his like royalty. “I’d be delighted to help.”  
Childe guides you to his side and helps you put on your apron. As he ties the strings together, he relays the instructions to you. 
“You just need to dip half of the biscuit into chocolate, and then add some sprinkles on top before it sets.” He tightens the bow around your waist to secure it.
How hard could that be? You think, nodding along to his words.
Demoing an example, Childe deftly coats half of the biscuit. Angling it just right, the chocolate drips off and evens itself out, leaving a perfect covered half. After placing it on the tray and adding the finishing touch of sprinkles, he gestures for you to try it yourself.
You confidently take one biscuit and dunk it. 
“Ah!” 
Underestimating its consistency, when you lift the biscuit, the chocolate slowly spreads onto the other half of the heart and drips onto your fingers. You quickly place it onto the baking sheet. Childe stifles his laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“My one looks so much worse compared to yours…” you mutter, licking your fingers to remove the evidence of your unsuccessful attempt. 
Seeing the frown on your face, he gently bumps your shoulder with his own in encouragement. “Don’t say that! I think your one has a lot more charm.” He says, adding the sprinkles onto your heart. “I’ll run some extra baking classes with you to build up your skills, how does that sound?”
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