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you know imo if ntflx was smart they would release teeny tiny crumbs from season 3 like once a month or something bc we would talk about that crumb literally until the next crumb dropped. not that they need marketing assistance, but we're so fuckin feral we'd keep it trending for so long
#bridgerton#polin#i'm not even talking dates or stills#i'm talking a zoomed in detail on pen's dress or hair#or the pattern on colin's waistcoat#or flowers at one of the parties they attend#just giving us little things would literally make us rabid little beasts#trash talk
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found a website that lets you send flowers I the mail for quite cheap and i've truly gone mad with power. i feel like sending your friends a little bouquet in the mail is such a lost art but each of my friends is always so surprised and delighted when they receive one<3 i love it so much if I could attach a letter sprayed with my perfume I would
#sent my friend flowers bc her birthday is tomorrow and i cant attend the party teehee i cant wait for her to get them#idk if its just me but i normally only ever get flowers when a company messes up or out of sympathy for an illness/death/etc#i guess bc you usually show up in person if something happy is happening. and you would bring the bouquet yourself#not sure. anyway. sending my loved ones flowers whenever something good is happening but i cant be there from now on!#personal
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A dance— Capitano
Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.
Wc : 3.2k
Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.
Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!
You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.
Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.
All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)
Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.
It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.
Like last week.
“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.
Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.
"Did you learn it from someone?”
“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”
You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.
“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.
Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.
"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”
“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”
“i don't.”
And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.
“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.
You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.
An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.
“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.
“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”
“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.
All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.
But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.
You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.
“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”
“and the colour?”
"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”
Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.
Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.
Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.
You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”
"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”
You are ready.
You are not ready.
Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?
The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.
Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.
You were here to make friends, hopefully.
You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.
And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.
Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?
Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.
But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?
You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.
“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.
"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.
The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.
Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.
He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.
"I suppose we should dance, wife.”
“you want to dance?”
"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.
You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.
Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.
"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.
"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.
Interesting.
He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.
You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.
His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.
”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”
You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.
His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.
"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.
"You look rather well tonight, as well.”
“Thank you, wife.”
The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.
You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.
As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.
You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.
But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.
"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.
"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”
He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.
Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.
“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.
you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.
The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.
Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.
Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.
The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.
He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.
“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let it breath from the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.
You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in him stir.
His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.
It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.
Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.
You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.
Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.
“Will you allow me to touch you?”
The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.
When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.
His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.
“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”
And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.
“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.
“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.
He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.
His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.
It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.
Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.
Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.
“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.
“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’
Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.
Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.
You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.
He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.
His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.
“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.
Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.
—
You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.
As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.
“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”
Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,
#Capitano#il capitano#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#il capitano x reader#capitano x reader#capitano x you#fatui harbingers#fatui#genshin harbingers#capitano smut#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact capitano#il capitano smut
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✦ How you have contrasting personalities but they drop everything for you anyway
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche (separate)
They say love can change anyone, but you have yet to agree with this statement. You never wanted anyone to alter themselves for you, especially if that someone is your beloved. Instead, you always believed that people should stay true to themselves while maintaining mutual love and adoration for each other. And that's how you and your beloved were - contrasting in looks, attitudes, and habits. Yet it made your beloved cherish you all the more, even if it caused unsuspecting passers to raise eyebrows in shock… Maybe it's because your beloved is actually a dreaded Fatui Harbinger, and people didn't expect him to be head over heels whenever you’re in the same room. But what can you say? He always was a softie for you.
✧ Pierro doesn’t attend public gatherings. Period. Ask any of the high-rank Harbingers and they would tell you how lucky it would be if he were even present for a Harbinger’s inauguration, like when Arlecchino was declared 4th or when Tartaglia received his Delusion. Nevertheless, it is clear that The Jester does not squander his time with social events or benign pleasantries; he’s present only on important occasions.
If you can define what’s important in his book, that is.
An example being was a certain Fatui party. It is not uncommon for the Regrator to organize lavish evenings, especially in recognition if a Harbinger obtained a gnosis, or if another significant mission was masterfully accomplished. The grander was the task, the bigger the event would be. Of course, Pierro never attends those either.
During one of those organized events - you, of all people, decided to come. Dressed in your finest, glittering lotus flower silk and white silver adorned your figure while you timidly stood amongst the high nobles of Snezhnaya. Your presence was not an unwelcome sight, but you did not strive to bring attention to you either. Expensive parties with Fatui diplomats and Snezhnayan aristocrats were not your usual cup of tea.
Your presence did not bring awning gasps, but Pierro’s did.
Unannounced, the Director arrived at this sudden party, bringing hushed murmurs amongst the crowds of subordinates and colleagues. Likewise, he wore his most exquisite suit, a mantle-like cape flowing elegantly over his broad shoulders. Before guests and attendees could greet his arrival, The Jester marched straight ahead, not bothering to gaze at whoever tried to initiate conversation.
No, the man’s attention was focused straight at you, as he passed through everyone and swiftly approached you. With an outstretched hand, a knowing gaze was cast upon you, as he spoke:
“If I may,” - he brought the back of your hand closer to his lips “Would you honor me with a dance?”
You obliged. Now everyone in the gala was gaping at you two with grandiloquent murmurs.
“My most cherished, why did you not warn me you’d attend the ball?” - The Jester whispered to your ear, his gloved hand intertwined with yours as the two of you waltzed elegantly.
“Well, I just thought it would be futile to bother you. You usually hate such occasions.” - you muttered back, overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting his icy gaze; a gaze that only looked at you in tender love and yearning.
“Then may I inquire on why you decided to attend this one? You avoid them as well.”
“Okay, just please don’t laugh,” - you whispered. As Pierro kept a hand on your waist, he danced with you across the ballroom, using his broad form to shield you from the unwelcoming gazes of the guests. “You gifted me this fancy attire that I kept hiding in my closet for many months… I simply didn’t have a reason to wear it. So I forced myself to go out just so I could have the excuse of wearing something nice. U-um, that’s it.”
“And that’s it, love?”
“...Yeah,” - you nodded defeatedly “Also because I didn’t want to busy you from work.”
“Oh, my most beloved.” - The Director emitted a hushed chuckle as you two conversed and danced, making sure his words were heard only by you. “I can make all your attires gala-worthy if you so desire. You do not need to be coy, ask and I shall accompany you on any grand occasion."
Thus, the jester may not attend social events, as he only frequents important ones - the ones you're in, that is. As he whisked you away with a dance and a dip, he kept his hand delicate around you to escape the company of noisy guests who wished to bother you two. But what would be a ball with his lips gently grazing your cheeks at the end of each dance, telling you:
“Besides, I cannot allow other attendees to assume you are available, now can I? Not while you look so stunning tonight.”
✧ When Il Capitano was first spotted with you during workout practice, people didn’t even fathom you were his beloved, the only person equal to the Captain. The two of you were simply so… opposite. The Harbinger was big and imposing, while you were smaller and approachable; which isn’t even a fair comparison, because Capitano just towers over anyone. Everyone looks small next to him!
Nevertheless, when Capitano had his usual daily practicum along with his rumored significant other, some Fatui soldiers tried to sneak glimpses. Yet what a jarring spectacle it was to see the immovable, assertive Harbinger dismiss his commanding tone in favor of being patient and attentive.
“My dear, you’ve already run a set of laps and tried to outbeat me during pushup exercises. You are putting too much strain on your ankles after your previous training. We should-”
“No, we can still go for another round! Fight me!”
“But, my love-”
“Fight me!!!”
Anyway, the fight abruptly subsided. Not because you lost, but because Capitano swiftly lifted you into his arms the instant you launched yourself onto him, consequently refusing to put you down. Therefore, you find yourself being carried by your partner's muscled arms while your feet dangle.
“Aw man, not fair…” - you mumbled, settling to rest on Capitano's forearms. “It's not even a duel if you're just lifting me like a toddler. Set me down, Cappy!”
“It’s an effective tactic, one that easily neutralizes a hotheaded opponent like yourself.” - Capitano explained calmly. In reality, his body moved with pride as he held onto you securely, as if you were his prized reward for today's training.
The captain set you down, his armored hands trailing down to your leg, sending a tingling graze onto your skin. And indeed, his punctilious gaze spotted how you tried to hide a limp when exercising.
“You sprained your ankle,” - Capitano stated.
“Listen, it's not a big deal. Just a strain, I had worse happen.”
You tried to defend yourself, but The Harbinger already expected your excuses. The man knew better than to argue with you, and instead settled on removing your footwear and gently checking on your injury.
“This is no condition to continue training, my dear. If I let you continue, you'd stubbornly reach Celestia with bloodied knuckles and broken limbs.”
“Yeah! And you bet I'd win!’” - you retorted brightly. At the sight of your confident smile, Capitano chuckled deeply, his pitch-black helmet pressing into your forehead with tender motion.
“I am certain you will, my love. You'll drag The Heavenly Principles by the ear, and have them weeping by your gaze alone. But now, we should get you to rest and apply some ice to your ankle. Shall I carry you?”
You sighed deeply, having no option but to let your beloved's experienced hands help you with your soreness. “Oh well… fine.”
Capitano's training could wait. There was a more crucial matter at hand, literally. With his massive yet calm form carrying you away, your gaze remained fierce but forbearing.
If some Fatui soldiers witnessed today's event, they'd have to conceal their inconspicuous glances and smiles. After all, the sight of Il Capitano being the big, loving teddy-bear, while you being a menacing gremlin was undoubtedly shock-inducing.
Nonetheless, who else is worthy of being carried by the 1st Fatui Harbinger and pampered by him? Only you, of course.
✧ Il Dottore is a destructive, stern man. Hunched over the examination table, his gloved hands were tainted in blood while his jaw clenched in aggravation. His hours of working in the lab easily make him irritated, and this irritation further increases whenever certain scientific experiments do not bear fruit. A tense air of suspension was now lingering in his lab; a sign of an upcoming violent outburst.
“Lord Harbinger…” - one of Dottore's lab assistants began, trying to muster the courage to speak without shaking. “This experiment requires another round of testing, w-we might need to start over,”
The Doctor remained still, but the dangerous clutch of the scalpel in his hand didn't go unnoticed. “Perhaps I did not make myself clear?”
He straightened his shoulders, his masked expression gleaming with malice and murderous intent with each syllable hissed.
“I have given you one simple task. Bring me the results. If this experiment is not completed by tomorrow at the earliest, I will have to remind you how brittle, and puny your useless bones can be-”
Suddenly, the lab door slams open. From the heavy metal doorway, a hasty but familiar person quietly saunters in, unknowingly saving the poor soul that was about to be Dottore's next target. Of course, the person in question is - you.
“Dottore?” A small murmur escaped you. You stepped closer to Dottore and tugged at his sleeve. “I’m sorry, I can't sleep…”
An abrupt silence settled in the lab.
The unnerving tension of the lab was diverted as if a switch was flipped in Dottore's brain. The man swiftly set his scalpel aside, discarded his bloody gloves, and turned into a softer tone when talking to you.
“Hm, is it so late already? I apologize dear, time must've slipped past me. Do you want me to brew us some tea and join you in bed?”
“Yes, please… Chamomile. if you're not busy, of course.” - you nodded, a tender smile settling on your face.
The sight was fascinating. The eccentric, mad scientist was instantly replaced by a doting partner, who would lower himself to kneel before you and put his hands on your shoulders as if all his lab work and blood-stained messes were already forgotten. Dottore's assistants were indeed quite baffled when you entered the lab. But what was more confusing is that the sudden change of attitude was so drastic, that they all froze in silence and subordination. The poor, unfortunate underlings; one minute dealing with their Lord Harbinger's harsh demeanor, and the other witnessing him hugging you and gazing at you like a lovesick puppy.
“Perhaps it’s time to wind down for today. I was about to finish for today, anyway. I'll make your tea as you like it and accompany you in bed, dearest.” - Dottore's hand gently rested on your back, as he leisurely ushered you to leave with him.
“And as for the experiments,” - just before the Harbinger could leave with you in his arms, he sent an ominous glance towards his assistants, one that even through a mask portrayed lethal resolve - “deal with it.”
Oh well. Someone is staying overtime in the lab. That's how The Doctor was with his work - cruel and unattached. However, unbeknownst to people, when he's back with you in bed, that man is clinging to you throughout the night, groaning about his research while burying his head against your chest. His face takes refuge against the warmth of your body, arms encircling you in a needy embrace around your torso.
Sometimes, he just needs a good squeeze from you when you cuddle him, that's all.
✧ A day cannot be concluded if there wasn’t a single instance where Scaramouche’s grumbles weren’t accompanied by your bright grins. Scaramouche has a reputation for his sour disposition whenever he is discontented, that much is known. What isn't known is that the only person who tolerates his cynicism is someone as bright and cheerful as you. Like two sides of the same coin.
“Hmph, Pathetic. Just because some flowers are blooming doesn’t mean it requires a whole festival to be commemorated for.”
“Oh, come on, Scara. You accompany me to every Hanami event.” - you smiled back in response to the Harbinger’s scoffs, but the 6th crossed his arms.
“They are no different each year. Same cherry blossoms, same food stalls you drool over.”
“But Scara…! The Dango!”
That’s how the two of you wind up in a narrow cobble street, protected under the soft shadows of cherry blossom, while cascading pink petals gently fall around you. Well, that is how you wind up here, while Scaramouche was naturally dragged by you. Arms linked with one another, the Puppeteer kept his iconic look of displeasure, a huge contrast to your joyous one. One would assume The Harbinger could easily flee your torment and make you scram, but on the contrary:
He is the one who makes sure your hand is intertwined with his, says “To keep you from running away like a child in a crowd”.
He is the one running his thumb over your skin, his hand squeezes yours, and says “Don’t get too excited over the food stalls.”
He is the one rushing with you to find a good secluded spot, away from the crowd, while his hand pulls you closer by the waist, and says “It’s too loud. Here, stay closer.”
And of course, he is the one buying your favorite Hanami Dango and says “You asked for it so you better enjoy it. And make sure to chew it properly - dango is sticky.”
For someone who underlines his disapproval vocally, he sure pampers you with no objection about your interests. You’d muse and tease, saying that it was his way of enjoying flower viewing without saying it. However, before you could utter the words, a strong gust of spring wind blew past the street, sending a plethora of flower petals blowing into everyone’s faces. You shielded your eyes, whereas Scaramouche gently tugged at his ichimegasa hat, pulling you closer to further shield you.
“See? I told you this yearly custom is a nuance.” - he lamented, but his words came out more as a murmur than a groan, perhaps because he held you directly in his proximity. Your faces were closer, and the veil of his hat served as concealment from any public eyes.
You’d smile. He sure complained a lot, and Scaramouche didn’t like sweet deserts like you did. But whenever the opportunity arose, he’d make sure he had you under the veil of his hat, pressed flush by the hip to him. And if he was lucky, he might taste the sweetness of Dango through your lips instead.
Listen, I'm a sucker for fluff, okay?
#genshin impact#gender neutral reader#pierro x reader#capitano x reader#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#dottore x reader fluff#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#scaramouche x you#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi#il dottore#dottore#capitano#il capitano#genshin pierro#genshin x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin impact fatui#fatui harbingers#fluff#scara x y/n#scara x reader#wanderer genshin#wanderer fluff#genshin fanfic
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snapdragons mean i'm sorry
summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine
You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store.
Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you���d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life.
Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours.
Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend.
You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room.
When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.”
You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.
Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family.
The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out.
Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks.
After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind.
Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway.
“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?”
“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it.
You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see.
You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.
“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets.
If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”
“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”
You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?”
“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter.
“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of.
“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.
“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice.
“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.”
“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.”
Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.”
“You love her.”
“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.”
You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal.
He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.
Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks. You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled.
“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”
“I have to know.”
He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.”
You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.”
“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#worst!wolverine#marvel x reader#marvel fic#Logan howlett imagine#Logan howlett fic#wolverine imagine#wolverine fic#Hugh jackman x reader#x men x reader#x men fanfic#x men fic#marvel imagine#my writing#x men#x men comics#x men movies#hugh jackman
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Compliment someone on one of their personality traits
Write a handwritten card to someone to say thanks
Text a friend to share your gratitude for something they did for you
Leave a positive review online of a restaurant you like
Tell a friend what you love about their children
Compliment a photo someone posts on social media
Let someone cut in front of you in line
Introduce two people who you think would get along
Pick up trash on the ground and put it in the garbage
Compliment someone on their clothing or hair
Use old grocery bags to pick up dog poop you see on your neighbor's lawn
Shovel snow off the sidewalk in your neighborhood
Offer to mow the lawn for an elderly neighbor
Give up your seat on the plane to let a couple sit together
Talk to someone at a party that doesn’t seem to know anyone
Invite someone new in your town to a social event and introduce them to everyone
Invite a friend that you haven’t seen in a while out to lunch
Offer to pick up a friend at the airport
Reach out to an old friend to let them know of an experience you had with them that you value
Spend time with the elderly at a local retirement home
Offer to bring someone else's grocery cart back to the store
Keep an extra pen in your purse to give people when they need one
Put a positive note in a library book
Attend events that support your friends’ passions (like an art show, musical performance, etc…)
Donate unused items to charity
Bring snacks to the local fire station
Keep packs of toothpaste or packs of socks in your bag to give to homeless people
Post an uplifting photo on a friend’s social media
Compliment someone on something they’ve done or accomplished
Tell a parent that they’re doing a great job raising their kids
Bring or send your mother flowers
Bring a friend a small gift next time you see them
Buy a warm meal to give to a homeless person
Share an article, event, or other information with someone who might be interested
Help to connect a friend seeking a job to someone who has a job to offer
Help a neighbor bring in their groceries
Make dinner for your friend group
Compliment a neighbor on how nice their yard looks
Bring in the trash bins for your neighbor after trash has been picked up
Send an email to a former teacher to let them know how they impacted your life
Leave a thank you note in your mailbox for your mail carrier
Give a flower to a stranger
Buy a gift card to give to a stranger
Ofter to be there for a friend when they are struggling with something
Give bottles of water to people working outside on a hot day
Buy a sandwich for the next person in the lunch line
Leave a sticky note with a positive note somewhere public, like at a bus stop
Bring brownies to your next neighborhood association meeting
Scrape the ice off the car windshield of the car next to yours
Leave a positive comment on someone else's social media post, #ProsocialPost
Put coins in someone’s parking meter that is about to run out
Slow down to let someone merge in front of you in traffic
Be on time (don’t waste others’ time)
Hold the door open for the person walking behind you
Make a double batch of dinner so that you can give a meal to someone in need
Give directions to someone who is lost
Give an extra big tip when eating out
Practice compassion when someone else is struggling
Be self-compassionate when you’re struggling with something
Share veggies you grow in your garden with friends, neighbors, and family
Become an organ donor
Volunteer at the local animal shelter
Bring dinner to a friend who's just had a baby
Build a “little free library” box in your yard with books for everyone to read
#note that you don't have to do any of these#these are just ideas#if you wanna do a random act of kindness#which I think is a good idea :)
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Bewitched: The Rake and The Risk
˖⋆࿐໋ james logan howlett ✦ bridgerton au series
bewitched masterlist
chapter two
cw: flirting (mix of 1800s and modern day), jealousy, old time thoughts of women and marriage, james is a slut
pairing: viscount!logan howlett x fem!reader
a/n: sorry this is later than intended! i try to aim for a new chapter every friday but college is kicking my ass right now. next chapter will be longer!! also!! if you want to be tagged for the bewitched series please comment on the original bewitched masterlist post linked above this<3 there are so many of you lovely readers who want to be tagged and i need a more organized way to find everyone to add. sorry for the minor inconvenience. i appreciate every one of you!!
main masterlist
in all the twenty-nine years of knowing james howlett, lady chamberlain never would have pictured him coming to her home to ask about the eligible bachelorettes of the ton.
"what do you want to know, my dear?" lady chamberlain asked, sipping a cup of tea as the two of them sat in the living room.
"i am coming to you because as you know, my mother is expecting me to wed sooner rather than later and i was wondering whom might be the best women to seek out this season." james said, lying through his teeth.
if james really wanted to know who the best women this season were, he would've just opened the latest issue of lady cavanaugh. both of them knew this but it was more fun for lady chamberlain to tease the viscount.
"hm.." she smiles. "anyone in particular?"
"no."
the lie falls with ease. too much ease but lady chamberlain sees right through him.
"well, i did take note last night that the only lady you danced with was lady worthington's niece." she remarks slyly.
"the french girl?" he asks, playing coy. "i think i remember her."
lady chamberlain wasn't going to play games with the boy in front of her.
"i would hope so, you seemed quite fawned of her."
"i don't know if i would say that much."
"hm, so you don't want to know who she's planning to attended the mask ball with?" lady chamberlain smirks, knowing she's got him hooked.
everyone in the ton looked forward to the queens mask ball each season. it was the perfect way to help break the usual ice of finding 'the one'. that's where most couples tend to meet for the first time.
"let me guess..." james rolls his eyes. "prince harrison?"
lady chamberlain shrugs, placing her tea cup back on the dish. "the two of them talked quite a bit after you stormed off. she seems quite smitten with him."
"it's the first ball of the season. she has plenty of time to look for a better husband." he scoffs.
"well, dear... there are people who search their whole lives for something that's been right in front of them the entire time."
the elderly woman's words rang true in the room but james was far too in denial to notice them. instead, his ego was eating him alive. why would you not jump at the opportunity to be with the viscount?
˖⋆࿐໋
this afternoon was the queen's annual tea party. all the ton's debutantes gather to make friends and share their predictions for this season. anxiously, you paced the cobblestones outside, waiting for the carriage to pick you up.
"dear, it's not lady-like to pace back and forth." your aunt calls out from the doorway.
"my apologies," you reply, not stopping your feet.
"you're snagging the hem of your gown!"
thank heavens that the carriage was approaching. she waves you off, wishing you luck on your first adventure alone in the ton, wishing desperately she could join you.
your goal today is to make at least one friend. you'll even settle for an allied.
once you arrive at the queen's castle, you step inside. covered in soft pastels, flowers, and butterflies; you immediately feel calm. everyone is chatting and sipping tea at the tables. you sit down in the first available seat.
"you're the diamond, correct?" someone whispered next to you asks.
you turn your head to see a blonde girl to the right. she's wearing a soft yellow dress that doesn't quite fit her right.
"correct." you nod, offering the girl a smile to which she returns.
"shouldn't you be sat with the queen?" she asks, nodding to one of the beautiful girls surrounding the queen.
"probably but this was the first seat i saw." you joke, sipping on your tea.
the girl laughs with a small nod and introduces herself. her name is bridget and her father is a jewelry maker for the queen.
"i saw you dancing with the viscount last night at the ball." she smiles. "do you fancy him?"
almost choking on your tea, you shake your head.
"no, no, no. i don't fancy the viscount." you state.
bridget hesitates, watching your body language closely. the pressure gets you to speak up again.
"why do you ask?"
"because the viscount is a major rake."
the word rake rolls off her tongue with pure disgust. you'd never heard someone with such respect as a viscount be called something so dishonorable. rakes were known for their ability to seduce and lead on women with no promise of marriage.
"but he talks of his desire for a wife?" you question, more to yourself than to bridget but alas, she answers anyway.
"only because his mama is practically begging for a viscountess." bridget whispers.
you suppose this made sense due to the fact that most rakes never even intend to wed and after your conversation with james last night, he made it clear that marriage was not something he craved.
"trust me, you aren't the first lady to attempt to tie down the viscount. well, at least you have a shot since you're the diamond this season and all." the blonde girl rambles.
"oh, heavens no!" you repeat.
"hm, that's sad..." she sighs. "he is quite handsome."
"most definitely but i intend to wed for pure reasons."
"if that's truly the case, stay as far away from the viscount as possible."
˖⋆࿐໋
for the rest of the afternoon, bridget's words stuck to the front of your brain. if james wasn't so intolerable, perhaps he would make a good husband to someone.
once everyone finished with their tea, you decided to go sketch in wisteria park. the weather was beautiful outside and gave you the perfect inspiration needed to work on a new piece. normally, you would only draw on the sides of the letters written to your father back home. no one was more supportive of you than your parents. in a world where women mean nothing more than their wombs to society, it was rare to have parents who let their daughters have dreams.
sat on a patch of grass near the small pond, you set up your quill, small tray of paints, and paper. in the area where you decided to sit, across from you stood a beautiful cherry tree. as you work on the outline, you can hear footsteps approaching.
"i should've known i would find you here." a familiar voice says.
you don't even glacé up at the person near you, paying no mind to the man who seeks your attention most.
"do you want something, my lord?" you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
james' head spun every time those last two words fell from your lips, sounding to pretty the way that they roll of your tongue.
"you may call me, logan." he says. "if you so wish."
"logan?" you cock a brow, finally looking up at him.
"it's my middle name." he replies awkwardly.
"hm..." you pretend to ponder for a moment. "that's far too personal for me."
" 'too personal'? how might that be?"
james stands arms crossed against the cherry tree, glaring in your direction. you don't rush to answer his question instead you continue adding details to the branches and trees. he huffs under his breath, clearly irritated your lack of interest in him.
"well, we have no intentions to be together this season and we aren't friends so, there's no need for nicknames and such." you reply nonchalantly.
"you don't know my intentions"
a sweet giggle escapes you. james brushes off the warmth flooding his chest, rather focusing on topic at hand.
"oh, i bet i do."
suddenly, you drop your quill and give him your undivided attention.
"why are you even here, james?" you sigh.
"i was visiting an old friend this morning and wanted a stroll through the park."
"an old friend?"
the words left your lips before you could stop yourself. james was quick to notice the tone shift. he smirks, walking over to you and sitting on the grass to your right.
"mhm..." he hums.
"is she viscountess material?" you scoff, returning to your scribbles.
"and why would you care?"
why did you care? it's not like the two of you really know each other; yet, something about james made your blood boil. perhaps it was how he has a near perfect life and somehow still complains. he has no issues in finding a partner because everyone wants him. if he didn't have his head up his own ass, he would realize that.
"i don't."
"sounds like you do."
james liked watching your face scrunch up at little with dislike for him. how your pressure on the quill increases. how you avoid his gaze. how you pretend he doesn't exist next to you.
"i don't." you repeat. "i just cannot believe that someone like you is complaining about having to take a wife when all the women of the ton are smitten with you."
"someone like me?" james pretends to be offended but he was too busy enjoying this riled up version of you.
"someone who never gone with unmet needs, never struggled financially, never been under minded or overlooked." your words come out sharp but james doesn't let them cut deep.
"look, sweetheart..." he squints those hazel eyes, glaring deep into your soul and leaning in closer than he should've. "you know nothing of my families struggles."
"and you know nothing of mine."
james was so close to you. your noses almost touching before you pull away. being within his close proximity made you feel a foreign warm tingle deep in your stomach.
thank heavens that the park was empty, minus the two of you. the last thing you needed was for someone to see the two of you this close and label you as one of the viscounts mistresses.
"i-i must get going." you stutter, collecting your belongings.
"where are you off to?" he asks.
"i'm supposed to be accompanying lady chamberlain and prince harrison to dinner this evening."
his face scrunches with distaste at the mention of the prince. also, why would lady chamberlain hide this piece of information from him?
"isn't it quite early to prepare for dinner?"
"i must look perfect for the prince." you smile.
but not at james. you're smiling for that no good excuse of a prince who couldn't see that you already were perfect.
"you look fine to me." he huffs.
"it's vocabulary like that, that keeps you from finding a wife."
"and to think it was my insufferable personality that kept the ladies of the ton away."
it's difficult to hide the laugh you want to let out. instead you bite down on your cheek, not giving him the satisfaction of your laughter.
"ha ha ha." you mock dryly.
"do you always have a stick up your ass?"
james question makes your jaw drop. never in your life have you heard a man speak so vulgarly.
"that's no way for a viscount to speak to a lady." you scold. he can't help but roll his eyes at your comment.
"i'm sure that a man has spoken even more colorfully to you."
"what are you insinuating, my lord?"
"that i highly doubt a lady such as yourself still has her virtue." he shrugs.
never has your head spun so fast at a single sentence. you couldn't fathom that a rake like him has the nerve to question anyone's virtue.
"excuse me, viscount howlett but my virtue is none of your business." you rage. "and you have quite the nerve to question it."
"and why's that?"
james was playing with fire but he didn't mind getting scorched by your flames.
"i've heard the stories about you."
"like what?"
"like what you do with the promiscuous women of the night." your words leave a smirk plastered on his face as he watches you intensely.
"don't act so innocent either." james hums. "i'm sure you've had your fair share of promiscuous adventures in france."
a flush of red hits at your cheeks. the last person you wanted to talk about promiscuous acts with is james. mostly because your lack there of. only your own hands have touched you so intimately.
james studies your facial expression before it clicks for him. he shouldn't ask. he really shouldn't. but come on, he has to.
"have you never—" his words come to a halt when there's a ruffled noise inching closer.
"i'm under no obligation to answer you, viscount howlett." you scold, collecting your belongings.
"hm... seems like you've already answered my question." his cocky tone sends you over the edge of annoyance.
"shouldn't you be more concerned with finding a wife rather than my virtue? this season will be over before you know it and you will need to find one sooner rather than later."
james admired the way you spoke with such sharpness. you were shy and reserved but the weight of your words were heavy. there was grace in the way you spoke and he loathed it.
he loathed how perfect you were. how absolutely perfect you would fit into his life. how perfect you would be at being his little wife. only needing to plan parties and open your womb to his child. he would never stop you from your dream of painting either. all he wants is someone who can handle the duties that come with being his other half.
by the time james snaps out of his thoughts, you are long gone. off to get ready for your date with a man who's twice as rich as him and much more likable. the only thing he could do is hope that nothing good comes from this dinner.
──★
i'll tag everyone else who commented in the morning when i wake up <3
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earth i need to catch up on ur ratio fics (i read some of flower one and i ate that shit up omg) because now the thought of seething annoying veritas being all angry whenever you even look at someone else infests my mind like an annoying worm. i hope you know this is what those fics do to me
x : EQUILIBRIUM : *+゚
in which: ratio navigates through the perplexities of pining after you.
warnings: fluff, 1.6k words, intelligentsia guild!gn!reader is kind of a social butterfly and talkative, ratio is so pathetic i love him T^T, alcohol, aventurine feature! my writing isn't the best for this one i apologise :,D
a/n: thank u for the ask mhie!! i wanted to say that you enabled me perfectly because ever since his release, i've only ever thought about this one scenario where he's staring at reader from afar and absolutely seething because he's not the one talking to them xD sorry for taking so long omfg and im sorry for turning this into a fic, i just saw my opportunity and lunged at it like an animal rawr
Jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio.
He knows of them, understands the inner workings and philosophical aptitude of both, knowing that they lead man down irrational paths. Yet, for all his years, he has not felt the bitterness of jealousy and envy squeeze him, cannot fathom why one cannot control their feelings and maintain modesty.
Perhaps, the root of it was whatever Ratio wanted, he received. The only thing he has ever craved is knowledge, and it is available for him with the flick of a page, absorbing even the most complex of theories with ease. Conceptual, mathematical, scientific- not a single school of thought has hidden itself from his vast mind, proven by the many PhDs he has with his name.
Everything fickle that anyone could ever crave has long been his.
Envious over someone else’s wealth? Money comes and goes, and merely serves as a medium of exchange. As long as he has enough to live comfortably, then he is content. Having too much of one thing can often result in a bottomless pit of wanting more, and material good was perhaps the most evil of all.
Jealous over someone else’s beauty? Compliments and adoration are not an unfamiliar concept to him; one glance at what’s under that stone mask will have others fawning over him instantly. He claims the mask is to protect him from idiots, but perhaps it also serves to shield others from the walking sculpture that is the Veritas Ratio, sharp features and toned body, there is nothing undesirable about him.
In conclusion, jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio. Until he met you.
A fellow member of the Intelligentsia Guild but in another department, you too are a favoured delegate of the IPC, frequently attending the same events and trips as him. Thus, it was only natural that you’d become acquainted and that he’d grow to respect you, hearing about your achievements and dedications as an academic. What was unnatural, however, was the palpitations of his heart, weakness in his knees, paired with an overwhelming excitement to see you.
He’s no fool. These sensations were all symptoms of romantic attraction, but you were a variable uncounted for in the distribution of his life, and he was not ready for an outlier so powerful that it completely ‘skewed’ him over.
Now, he laments in the corner of champagne parties meant for socialites. He is no lover of mundane interaction but as his contract with the IPC, he comes as a representative of the Intelligentsia Guild.
These formal events always drained the life out of him, needing him to discard his everyday, flowey, carefree attire for a constraining suit, conforming him into the regular majority.
He raises the glass of champagne to his lips and takes a small sip, the liquor serves as lubricant to the throat. The smooth finish of the drink is exactly what he needs; talking about the same subject again and again becomes exhausting, and even though it is in his role criteria, Ratio cannot wait to leave.
But he won’t, because he hasn’t seen you yet.
Glancing around the room for the upteemth time this evening, you still have not entered his line of sight, and he leans against the bar in disappointment.
“Oh, why the long face, Ratio?” A mischievous voice coos from beside him. “It’s not a good look on you.”
“Spare me your sentiments, gambler,” Ratio spits back.
“As you wish. Not enjoying the party?”
“If you have something you wish to say then please, spare me the pleasantries.”
Aventurine laughs, all boisterous and extravagant, gold jewelry clicking against each other, as if coming alive to match his jovialness. He really is a personified headache. “You’re looking for someone, aren’t you?”
The scholar tenses, muscles tugging at the stiff fabric of his blazer, but that micro action was enough of an answer for Aventurine.
A gloved hand points up to the mezzanine of the grand hall. Ratio spots you, leaning against the railing whilst conversing with another man, one briefly talked to earlier. If he didn’t like him before, then he certainly didn’t now.
Handsome face turning into a small scowl, it’s almost as if you feel the intensity of a certain, golden stare, causing you to turn around and find the source, eyes eventually landing on the figures of a coworker or two. A brief smile graces your face before you turn around again, turning your back on the two onlookers.
Ratio loathes what he sees, and something within him yearns to be the only man you look at, causing an ugly, green sensation to brew within him; a concoction that can only be labelled as ‘jealousy’.
He just cannot figure out what other men have that he doesn’t; what is making him secondary in your heart? Why do you give these... idiots the time of day when you could be with him- talking to him?
It's all too perplexing, you make him perplexed.
“Well, go on, doctor,” Aventurine prompts. “Place your bets before it’s too late.”
The purple-haired sighs, pushing himself off the bar. His feet take him to you, up the velvet-carpeted stairs. His gaze never strays from you, ensuring you stay within his line of sight and eventually, he stops right behind you, acting as a looming shadow.
His gaze is cold, hoping to pierce through your conversation partner so he can finally cower away and make room for Ratio.
“Doctor!” You exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”
Taking a hint, the stranger finally begins to peel himself away. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/n. I hope this won’t be our last conversation.”
“Likewise, have a lovely evening,” you farewell him with a small smile as the other party turns and eventually disappears from sight.
Finally. Triumph and victory settles in Ratio’s chest when your attention is directed solely at him, but you look up at him with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.
“I swore I saw you downstairs moments ago, how did you get up here so fast?”
“I simply walked a normal pace, is that so abnormal?”
“I suppose not,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Veritas allows himself a glance over of your outfit, admiring you. “Have you talked to anyone interesting?”
You are by far the most interesting part of the evening, he thinks.
“Hardly,” he murmurs.
“My guess is that you’d prefer to be grading student papers?” You muse, leaning in closer.
His heartbeat spikes. “Well, that is hard to say. Which would you prefer?”
“As much as I love my students, I need a break from the same thesis statements regurgitated in different formats. I’d rather be here.”
“Then that is my answer too.”
You give him a look that says ‘really?’, clearly not believing his aloof statement. Truthfully, he would rather be here because here is where you are, and he’d like a few moments with you before returning to the gloominess of his office. The hour hand is only at 11, what’s the rush?
Then, your eyes flicker to his neckline and they widen briefly, as if finding an issue with his tuxedo. “Hold still,” you command, hands coming up to rest on his sturdy chest.
You’re fixing his tie, he realises, feeling the fabric tighten ever so slightly as you adjust it. When you’re done, you flatten out the material with a satisfied smile, running your hands casually over his chest, and he hopes you cannot feel his heart jump. How do you touch him so easily, as if it means nothing?
“It was crooked,” you explain, “now you are looking as sharp as ever, Doc.”
“Thank you,” is the best thing he can sputter out.
“No problem, we need to have our genius looking proper at all times!”
Ratio is too stunned to speak, he fears that if he tried, whatever leaves his mouth will result in a various garbles and attempts at sentences.
Thankfully, you haven’t run out of words to say. “Oh, I have yet to get a drink! Will you accompany me? I could go for some refreshments right now.”
He nods and extends an arm for you to hold, and you happily accept it, holding onto his bicep as you ramble on about a conversation exchanged earlier in the night. If you were anyone else, he would not have cared in the slightest, but instead, he listens intently, taking slow and measured steps downstairs so you are comfortable.
In this bubble, the esteemed scholar is content. With you so close, it feels as if everything has clicked into place, like the scales of fate have finally balanced and equilibrium has been achieved. He could listen to you forever.
Unfortunately, all good things don’t last, because a face Ratio doesn’t recognise approaches you, hand resting on your shoulder. Judging from the manner of which they address and talk to you, you are close, and you don’t shrug them off. Next thing he knows, you’re ripped away from him, dragged into the sea of people.
You spare him a glance over your shoulder, as if apologising for the sudden disruption.
Still, he sighs, left behind with nothing but fervent symptoms of love clinging to his being, squeezing him for all he is.
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#earthtooz: honkai star rail#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff
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jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader — prompt list 9.3.8 and 9.3.9 from my autumn party!
words: 3.4k
notes: “When their partner comes from a hunt, all injured, with a smile because they won. But they are not happy, because what the actual heck?” and “I told you not to go, love! Now look what happened!” requested
You stood by the window, watching the dragon keepers below as they readied the dragons for flight, their movements precise and practiced. The sky was clear, the wind gentle – the perfect day for a hunt. Yet, even as you stood there, excitement buzzing beneath your skin, you felt the tension simmering in the room behind you.
"I don't want you to go," Jacaerys' voice broke through the quiet, soft yet firm, as though he had repeated the words more than once.
You turned from the window to face him, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mix of concern and frustration. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stood near the hearth, arms crossed over his chest. The firelight flickered across his face, accentuating the strong lines of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.
"You've made your point," you said calmly, moving closer to him. "But I've made mine. This is important, Jace."
He shook his head, letting out a low sigh as he turned away from the fire to face you fully. "No alliance is worth your safety. You know that as well as I do."
His protectiveness wasn't new, nor was the tension that seemed to surface every time you discussed something risky. Jacaerys Velaryon, the eldest son of Princess Rhaenyra, was many things – stubborn among them. His sense of duty ran deep, forged in fire and tempered by the weight of his heritage. But so was yours.
"It's not just an alliance," you insisted, taking a step closer to him. The space between you felt charged, the air heavy with unspoken words. "Lord Rosby's support could turn the tide in the Riverlands, and you know that. A show of solidarity, something as simple as attending his hunt, could be enough to sway him."
"And what if something happens to you out there?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes dark with concern. "You think I could live with that? Knowing I could've stopped it?"
You sighed, exasperated, though his concern wasn't unwelcome. You loved Jace for this, for the way he cared so deeply, for the way he always thought of you first. But sometimes, that concern bordered on overprotectiveness, and it gnawed at you, especially when it came to matters like this – matters of duty.
"I'm not a delicate flower, Jace," you said, your tone gentler this time, trying to ease the tension. "I can handle myself. Besides, I'll have guards, riders, and we'll be on the lord's land. It's a hunt, not a battlefield."
Jace's jaw tightened, his gaze unwavering. "A hunt can be just as dangerous, especially for someone with little experience."
The heat rose in your chest at his words. You were no stranger to these kinds of debates, and while you respected Jace's wisdom, it didn't mean you always agreed. "I have experience," you countered, lifting your chin. "More than enough to handle this."
He shook his head again, taking a step forward until the space between you all but disappeared. His hand came up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a familiar, tender gesture. "I'm not questioning your abilities, love. I just don't want to see you hurt."
The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, softening the edges of your frustration. His dark eyes held yours, full of worry, full of love. It was hard to argue when he looked at you like that, as though you were the most precious thing in his world. And to him, you were.
"I told you not to go," he murmured, quieter now, the words thick with the weight of his worry. "Please. Let someone else handle the hunt."
But there was a fire in you, one that couldn't be easily doused by gentle touches or soft words. You had fought too hard to earn your place in these matters, and you weren't about to let fear – either his or your own – stand in the way. You leaned into his touch, but your resolve didn't waver.
"I need to do this, Jace. For the good of the realm, for us."
He closed his eyes for a moment, his hand slipping from your face as he turned away, running a hand through his dark curls in frustration. "You're as stubborn as a dragon," he muttered, but there was no anger in his voice, only resignation.
You smiled faintly, stepping forward to place your hand on his arm. "You married me knowing that."
A long silence stretched between you, filled only by the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the dragons outside. When Jace turned back to you, his expression had hardened, a spark of anger flashing in his eyes.
"And you married me knowing I would protect you," he said, his voice low and intense. "Even if it means protecting you from yourself."
Your own anger flared at his words. "Protect me from myself? I'm not some reckless child, Jace. I'm your wife, your partner. I thought we were equals in this."
"Equals, yes," he said, his voice rising slightly. "But that doesn't mean we can't look out for each other. And right now, I'm telling you this is a mistake."
You took a step back, crossing your arms. "And I'm telling you it's not. I've made my decision, Jace. I'm going on this hunt."
His fists clenched at his sides, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Why can't you see reason? This isn't just about you anymore. We have responsibilities, a future to think about."
"That's exactly why I'm doing this," you countered, your voice sharp. "For our future, for the realm's future. Sometimes that means taking risks."
"Not unnecessary ones," he shot back. "Send someone else. Anyone else."
You shook your head, your resolve strengthening with each passing moment. "No. It has to be me. Lord Rosby needs to see that we're willing to engage personally, not just send envoys."
Jace's eyes flashed dangerously. "And what if something happens to you? Have you thought about what that would do to me? To us?"
His words hit you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you faltered. The pain in his voice was palpable, and you could see the genuine fear behind his anger. You softened slightly, reaching out to touch his arm.
"Jace," you said, your voice gentler now. "I understand your fear. I do. But we can't let it control us. We have responsibilities that extend beyond these walls."
He didn't pull away from your touch, but neither did he relax. "Is it so wrong to want to keep you safe? To protect what we have?"
You could see the battle raging behind Jacaerys’ eyes. His need to protect you clashed with the reality that you were not someone who needed constant safeguarding. You weren’t just his wife; you were his equal, capable of holding your own in the political landscape that surrounded you both.
His hand moved to grip your fingers, his touch firm but trembling slightly. “It’s not wrong, Jace,” you murmured, your voice softening as you stepped closer. “But you can’t protect me from everything. I can’t stay hidden in this keep, waiting for the world to turn without me. We both have to face the dangers that come with our duties.”
He exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing as he searched your face, looking for something – perhaps an argument strong enough to sway you, or maybe the comfort that you would be safe. But you saw the resignation there too, the deep understanding that no matter how much he wanted to wrap you in his protection, you wouldn’t let fear guide your choices.
The room was thick with tension, and the air between you hummed with the weight of your words. You didn’t want to fight with him, didn’t want this to be a rift between you. But it was clear that Jace’s concern wasn’t something that could be easily placated. He would carry it with him, just as you carried your own burdens.
“I do not wish for your hurt,” he whispered, and the vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heart.
Your fingers tightened around his.
There was a long, quiet moment where you both stood, the fire crackling softly in the background, casting shadows across the stone walls. Jacaerys looked down at your entwined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly, as though trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his.
Finally, he nodded, though the tension never fully left his expression. “If you must go, promise me you’ll be careful. Stay with the guards. Don’t take unnecessary risks.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the fear he still carried.
You smiled, lifting a hand to cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I promise.”
Jace leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly as though seeking solace in the warmth of your hand. Then, with a deep breath, he opened his eyes and straightened, his hand slipping to the small of your back as he pulled you close. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you – no titles, no duties, no looming threats – just the love you shared, solid and unwavering.
* * *
You burst through the doors, breathless and triumphant, your heart still racing from the thrill of the hunt. A wide smile spread across your face as you hurried towards Jace, eager to share your victory. The hunt had been more successful than you’d hoped – an impressive stag taken down, Lord Rosby clearly impressed by your skill.
But before you could even utter a word, Jace's face shifted, the joy he might have felt clouded by something darker. His eyes, usually warm when they landed on you, were now hard, focused on something beyond the excitement in your expression.
"Gods," he breathed, his voice tight with alarm as he crossed the room in quick strides. "You're hurt."
You blinked, the rush of the day suddenly shifting under his worried gaze. “What?” The confusion in your voice was evident. But then you followed his eyes down to your gown, and reality hit you like a cold wind. Your dress, once a rich shade of deep burgundy, was now stained with dark, drying blood. You reached up instinctively, fingers grazing your cheek, where the sharp sting of a gash reminded you of the near-miss you'd had in the thick of the hunt.
"It’s nothing," you said, waving it off, but the concern etched in Jace’s expression deepened. He was already close, his hands hovering over you as if unsure where to touch without causing you more pain.
"Nothing?" he echoed, incredulous, his fingers gently brushing over the fresh cuts on your face. His touch was featherlight, but the worry in his eyes felt heavy, like a storm gathering just beneath the surface. "You’re bleeding. Your gown–" His voice faltered as his gaze flicked down again, a muscle in his jaw tightening.
“I’m fine, Jace,” you assured him, even as the adrenaline started to wear off and the dull ache of the wounds made itself known. “The hunt was a success. Lord Rosby–”
“Damn Rosby!” His words came out sharper than intended, the flare of his anger catching you both by surprise. He took a breath, his grip tightening on your arms as if to ground himself. His dark eyes searched yours, the fear lurking there impossible to miss. “I told you not to go. I begged you.”
The guilt hit you harder than the pain of the wounds ever could. You’d promised him, but in the heat of the moment, in your determination to prove yourself, you’d taken risks. “It wasn’t as bad as it looks,” you murmured, trying to soothe him, though you knew the words would do little to calm the storm brewing inside him.
Jace’s hands cupped your face now, careful to avoid the cuts, his touch as gentle as ever, despite the frustration simmering beneath. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head, his voice low, almost trembling.
“I told you not to go, love” his voice low and sharp as he reached for you, his hands hovering over your injury as though he didn’t know whether to touch you or pull away. “Now look what’s happened.”
You winced slightly, more from the weight of his worry than the actual pain. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” you tried to assure him, though your voice wavered.
Jace’s eyes flashed with frustration. “Not as bad as it looks? You’re bleeding.”
“I won,” you said, a weak attempt at lightening the mood, but the smile you offered didn’t quite reach your eyes.
He didn’t smile back.
“What were you thinking?” His voice cracked, full of fear and anger and everything in between. “I told you – begged you – not to go. And now you’re hurt.”
His hands finally found your shoulders, gripping you gently as he studied your face, his gaze softening just enough to reveal the fear lurking beneath his anger.
His hands trembled as they rested on your shoulders, the weight of his frustration pressing down on both of you. Jace's eyes, usually so full of warmth, flickered with something sharper now, his anger held tight beneath the surface. His grip was gentle but firm, his touch like an anchor, tethering you to this moment and everything unsaid between you.
"You promised you'd be careful," he whispered, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire, though it carried the weight of his emotions. His gaze never left yours, dark and intense, as though he was searching for some explanation that could soothe the storm raging inside him. "And now you're standing here, bleeding, trying to tell me it's fine."
The guilt clawed at you, sharp and unrelenting. You had been so focused on the hunt, on proving your worth, that you hadn’t fully considered what it would do to him if something went wrong. You tried to offer a soft smile, hoping it might ease his worry, but Jace wasn’t ready to let go of his anger just yet.
Before you could say anything, he was already moving, leading you towards the bed, his movements brisk but careful. He gestured for you to sit, then grabbed a cloth from the basin near the hearth, dipping it into the cool water. His hands were steady as he wrung it out, though you could see the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw.
Jace's touch softened as he continued to clean the wounds, the cloth gentle against your skin. He worked in silence, the steady rhythm of his hands soothing despite the sting of the cold water. Every movement was careful, his brow furrowed in concentration as he wiped away the blood, dabbing at each cut with an almost reverent tenderness.
His fingers brushed against your temple, where a small gash marred your skin, and you winced slightly, though more from the look in his eyes than the actual pain. Jace’s gaze flickered up to meet yours, concern flashing across his face as if apologizing for causing you discomfort.
“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, his thumb brushing along the edge of the wound. The cool cloth followed, gentle and precise, as if he could erase the injury with a single stroke.
You shook your head, your lips curving into a small smile despite the ache. “It’s fine. Really. You don’t have to be so careful.”
But Jace just gave you a look – a familiar one, full of that mix of protectiveness and quiet stubbornness that you’d grown to love. “I do,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though the weight of his worry needed no louder declaration.
The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, casting warm shadows across the room, but the space between you felt closer, more intimate. His fingers lingered longer now, the cloth abandoned as he gently touched your cheek, tracing the path of a now-cleaned cut with the pad of his thumb. His touch was warm, soft in a way that made your heart ache with affection.
"I hate seeing you hurt," he whispered, his voice thick with the emotion he had been holding back. His dark eyes, always so steady and certain, shimmered now with the vulnerability he rarely let surface. "I can’t stand it."
You reached up and took his hand, your fingers wrapping around his, warm and familiar. “I’m okay,” you murmured, pulling his hand down between you.
He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he squeezed your hand. There was a stillness to the moment, a quiet tenderness as you both just sat there, your knees nearly touching, the firelight flickering gently against the stone walls.
Jace’s other hand lifted to cradle your face, his fingers threading through your hair as he rested his forehead against yours. The closeness, the warmth of him surrounding you, made the tension from earlier seem so far away. His breath was soft against your skin, his fingers slipping down to your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek in that slow, comforting way that made your heart flutter.
"I’m sorry," he said quietly, his voice barely a murmur. "I didn’t mean to lash out earlier. I was just so scared."
You tilted your head slightly, pressing your lips softly against his forehead. “I know. I understand.”
The weight of his fear, the depth of his love, was palpable in the way he held you now, as though he could protect you by sheer force of will. You could feel it in every gentle touch, in the way his hands never left you, in the way his breath hitched when he spoke.
"Just… promise me next time, you’ll be more careful," he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple as his thumb traced your cheek one more time.
“I promise,” you said, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of him soothe the last of the ache.
For a moment, there was no need for more words. The silence between you was filled with the quiet assurance of your presence, the unspoken comfort of being here, together, in the soft glow of the fire. His hands lingered, tracing over your skin as if committing every inch of you to memory, as if this small moment of peace could stretch on forever.
Jace’s thumb traced the curve of your jaw one last time, lingering as if to memorize the sensation. His breath brushed your skin, warm and unsteady, and for a moment, he was utterly still – caught between his worry and the urge to simply hold you, as if that alone could erase the danger that had come too close today.
Then, slowly, he leaned forward, and the space between you dissolved. His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft, hesitant at first, a tentative brush of affection. But as his hand cradled the back of your neck, threading gently through your hair, the kiss deepened, a quiet promise of his love and fear tangled together. You could feel the weight of his emotions, the unspoken apology for the anger and the silent relief that you were here, in his arms, safe.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath came in shallow, quiet gasps. His hand remained against your cheek, fingers soft but firm, as if grounding himself in the closeness of you.
“I’m going to run you a bath,” he murmured, his voice still thick with concern. “You need to rest.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as the warmth of his words washed over you. There was something comforting in his need to care for you, in the way he was so determined to ease the aches you hadn’t even realized were settling in.
With a gentle kiss to your forehead, Jace stood, moving towards the basin and reaching for a fresh towel. You watched him in the soft light of the fire, his movements deliberate, shoulders still tense but easing as he busied himself with the simple task of preparing the bath.
And for now, that was enough – this quiet, tender moment shared between you, where the world outside could wait.
#luna’s autumn writing#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#prince jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#hotd jacaerys#jace targaryen#jace velaryon#harry collett
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My mortal flaw // part 2 (Reader x Zuko)
Requested by: @ficsmoothie Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget
Summary: If there was one person you hated the most it was Commander Zhao. When Zhao kills the moon spirit, it takes a drastic toll on you. Being on the brink of dying in the arms of the fire prince. [series]
You felt the ominous atmosphere, the moment he stepped foot on the ship. A certain chill catching your bones. It wasn’t that chilly tonight, but you still shivered. The ominous approach of his footsteps. Heavy and hard on the ship’s deck. The ship had gone silent. Holding in a breath. All of the soldiers lined up. At the very end Zuko with you by his side. Iroh a bit behind Zuko’s right shoulder. You took a deep breath when he came in vision. Standing across on the other end.
A thick smirk on his face. His walk sturdy and a bit too much air. He never gave the soldiers any of his contact. His gaze was fixated on the prince and you. You let your gaze briefly shoot over to Zuko. His posture firm as you saw him brace himself. His chest slightly puffing up as he kept his hands behind his back. His expression emotionless. Turning your gaze back to the front, he was almost near.
He might have been a fire bender, but he gave you the chills. He came to a stop before Zuko and you. – “My prince.” – he addressed with a small bow, one hand on his chest. His gaze then shifted to you. – “Water princess.” – he spoke, making you almost roll your eyes at him. The way he showed it made it seem like he had little respect for you.
“Commander Zhao.” – Zuko spoke drawing his attention back to him. – “You will the address the princess formally.” – he insisted upon. Zhao forced his mouth to smile. – “Princess Y/n.” – he said bowing his head just a bit. – “Commander Zhao.” - you said bowing, hands holding your elbows inside your sleeves. A moment of silence fell, making you glance over at Zuko. Iroh cleared his throat. – “Shall we head inside Commander Zhao?” – Iroh offered, gesturing at the cabin.
Iroh took the lead, guiding Zhao inside. Zuko and you behind him. Zuko paused allowing you to enter first. You gave him a smile, showing him your gratitude. Zuko moved behind you, following you inside the cabin. You had come a long way since Kyoshi Island, but you weren’t fully there. Zuko’s walls had crumbled just a bit around you. Just enough to appreciate your presence more.
You didn’t expect him to cling onto you like dew to a flower. That he would be a totally different man or suddenly declare his love for you, if he even had that. No it was more an understanding. A common agreement on both parties. Nothing was going to chance this union.
Iroh and Zhao were already in the quarter when you walked in with Zuko. Zuko came standing by the map on the table. You went to Iroh, standing beside him. – “What news.” – Zuko started looking firmly at the map. Zhao cleared his throat. – “Perhaps the princess should leave the room.” – Zhao stated looking behind Zuko to you. Zuko lifted his head up, bringing his fingers closer to his palm on the table. – “The princess stays!” – he declared with a glare.
“My prince.” – Zhao started, his expression bitter like swallowing a sour apple down. – “All this talk of war, might not be something for a girl to attend.” - Zhao let out, clearing wanting you out of the room. – “Y/n stays!” – Zuko made clear, slamming his fist against the table. – “I have no secrets for her.” – he finished looking angered at Zhao. – “Is that so?” – Zhao spoke a hint of surprise in his voice. Perhaps some mockery too.
“Forgive me my prince, but I do not believe your princess would be an asset to the room.” – Zhao slipped out, looking rather foul at you. Zuko clenched his hand, getting frustrated with him. – “She stays!” – he outed loud.
It wasn’t hard to read the room. Commander Zhao disliked you for one reason only. The reason you were a water tribe girl. If you were a girl from the fire nation, he might have belittled you too, but with less grudge. You sighed soft, getting in motion. – “I’ll leave since you are insisting.” – you said making Zuko turn around to you. – “But…” – he started. He had been keeping his foot down, insisting on your presence in the room. So hearing you give up, confused him.
“I know when I am unwanted.” – you replied loud enough for Zhao to hear. Stepping up to Zuko, you wanted a private moment with him. – “Be firm.” – you whispered to him. Letting your gaze go from Zuko with admiration to Zhao with anger. Zuko swayed his head a bit to the side, moving his hand to yours.
“Stay…” – he whispered almost breathlessly when you slipped through his fingers, already leaving the room. Zuko’s gaze met up with Iroh. Commander Zhao to his back. Iroh showed Zuko to be strong, to not show emotion with a simple expression. Zuko took a deep breath before turning back to Zhao. – “Now let’s talk.” – he said firm, pressing his palms on the table.
You were on deck, hand under your chin as you let the water from the ocean move up and down with your hand. A stream of water getting stretched out from the ocean and back down. Just mindless bending to pass the time. Commander Zhao felt like a bad omen to you. You didn’t care much for the little respect he had towards you. You did care how he could subtly belittle Zuko.
Acting as if he was higher in rank and Zuko but a foot soldier. A part of you was glad you weren’t in that room with him. You hated looking at his stupid face. On the other hand, you wanted to be in that room to make sure he wouldn’t make Zuko a fool. Kyoshi Island made you look differently upon Zuko. With more respect as to say. It sure made the union between the two of you bond.
Something you never thought was possible. You’d always hoped Zuko would melt some walls down with you. At least enough for him to respect you and perhaps if you could dream for him to show affection in any way. Even if it meant the littlest of meanings. You wanted him to be happy with you, even though you were never his choice.
The water splashed down as you heard their voices. It made you turned around, standing up straight. Commander Zhao stomped towards the railing to leave your ship. Not seeing Iroh or Zuko near him, you rushed back inside. The door swung open as you were panting with worry. You only had to look at Zuko, knowing Zhao had gotten under his skin once more. – “What happened?” – you asked with concern, going over to Zuko.
You reached your hand out to his arm. Your fingers could touch his arm but for a second before he flipped his arm up. – “Get out!” – he shouted loud with anger. It startled you, but you staid. Zuko grunted loud, brazing. – “I was only…” – you began as he cut you off with blazing fire in the room. You felt the warmth tickle your skin. – “I don’t need your pathetic sympathy!” – Zuko answered rudely.
“Zuko!” – you shouted back getting up in his face. – “I am not Zhao!” – you grabbed him by his suit. – “Damn well remember that!” – your gaze staring coldly back at him. Your little outburst made him swallow in shock. Never had he seen you counterstrike so hard against him. You let go of him with a shove. Iroh was impressed by you, tempering Zuko’s temper so easily. Zuko blinked confused, calmed down in a matter of seconds.
Taking a deep breath, you calmed down as well. – “Don’t let Zhao get under your skin. He’s not worth it.” – you told Zuko. Zuko nodded. You wanted to leave again when Zuko grabbed for your wrist, making you stop. Startled, you looked down at his hand around your wrist. Your eyes met as Zuko looked away. His grip faltered as he let go of you.
He proceeded to do as if what he had done was of no significance. You bent through your knees as a curtsy to him before leaving the room once more. – “Don’t.” – Zuko said out loud. – “I wasn’t going to say anything.” – Iroh answered innocently. – “You were thinking it.” – Zuko added with a sigh. – “All I wish to say is don’t push her away nephew. You’ll regret it.” – Iroh replied wisely. He then bowed his head to Zuko, taking his leave. Iroh found you on the deck, asking if you wanted to join him for tea. You accepted, drinking some tea under the moonlight with him.
---------------------------------
“Remember your fire breath.” – Iroh said to Zuko. Zuko took a deep breath to show him. – “Princess Y/n.” – Iroh said making you nod determined at him. Iroh nodded back. You jumped off the railing into the water. Before your feet touched the water, it turned to ice underneath you. You whistled loud for Zuko to join you. He gave his uncle one last hug before he jumped over the railing too.
Landing hard on the ice platform, you had created. He sunk to his knees from the impact as you helped him up by his elbow. Taking a firm stand, you started swaying your hands around you. The ice platform got in motion as you bend the movement of the water. The ice platform making a way through the ice cold water to get to the Northern water tribe. Zuko had his fists up, ready to fire at anyone trying to attack. His gaze fell on you, seeing you bend the water so gracefully yet with strength.
Above your head you saw balls of fire being launched at the water tribe. Your hatred for Zhao, Admiral now, growing more. – “There is a secret entrance underneath the water.” – Zuko let out, keeping an eye out for it. You felt the movement of the water in your bones, feeling connected to it.
“There.” – you told him bending the platform over to it. The platform came to a stop as Zuko exhaled deep, a bit of flame coming out of his mouth. You came standing by his side. – “You don’t have to do this.” – he told you. – “Together.” – you reminded him holding your hand out to him. Zuko stared at your hand, then up to your warm smile. He clasped his hand in yours without a word. Both of you jumped into the water. The cold giving you a brief shock. You let go of Zuko’s hand underwater to swim. Dive and swim closer to the entrance.
Zuko emerged first, gasping loud for air. – “Y/n?” – he said looking around. You hadn’t emerged yet as he slightly started to panic. Your head came above, taking a soft breath. – “Here.” – you said as he sighed relieved. Zuko and you swam to the edge, having found a way into the Northern water tribe. Zuko helped you out of the water.
Your eye fell upon the moon high above. – “Y/n.” – Zuko called out waiting for you to join him. – “Y/n let’s go!” - he ordered seeing you waste time by staring at the moon. Hesitantly you came in motion, joining his side. – “I just want the Avatar.” – Zuko said to remind you. The two of you found a way outside. In shock, you stared at the chaos. Fire everywhere. The water tribe, your kin, fighting with every might against the roaring flames.
It pained your heart to see it come to this. Zhao had lost his mind. Zuko noticed you were captivated by it. He knew your heart would be bleeding from seeing this. He returned to you, grabbing you by your wrist. – “Don’t look.” – he said pulling you away. A ball of fire clashed into an ice structure above. It made some brocks of ice crumble down. You bended them away before they could crush Zuko and you.
Zuko gave you a complimenting look before going his way. You remained outside, making sure no one would follow him. The moon caught your eye again as you felt like it was trying to say something. A warning before the storm. It made you swallow nervously, unaware of what was happening down in the sacred pond.
“Zhao!” – Iroh called out with anger. – “Whatever you do to that spirit, I will unleash on you tenfold!” – Zhao laid on the ground, holding the moon spirit under his grip. He grinned, chuckling even. With trembling cheeks, he drove the blade into the moon spirit. The moon disappeared, leaving the world in a gloomy view.
You stood outside, gasping loud as suddenly the moon was gone. Your hands felt weird as you couldn’t bend anymore. Looking at your trembling hands, you couldn’t figure out what had happened. You gasped hearing fire benders come in sight. They pointed at you, firing a blast at you. Now defenceless, you couldn’t do much. You were able to deflect one or two from moving out of the way, but the third one hit you. A blast of fire hitting you in the chest.
The pain was excruciating as it send you down. It had knocked you off balance. Getting slowly up, your side felt heavily bruised. There was another blast as you couldn’t out run it. It made you cry out, falling back into the snow. Clutching your side, it felt wet. Looking at your hand, you saw it was blooded. – “Zu…Zuko…” – you forced out, dragging yourself forwards into the snow. You had lost sight of Zuko a while ago. You remained still, hoping they would presume you were dead and move on.
Trying hard not to tremble, you waited till the sounds died out. Although it wasn’t easy in this chaos. Water benders that could bend no more, falling down. Struck by fire. Your breathing became shallow as you forced yourself up. Knees weak as they could barely hold you up. Weakened and bleeding, you shuffled forwards, pushing yourself forwards. – “Zuko…Zuko…” – you would whisper in search for him.
Zuko panted loud as he came outside. His first reaction was to look around for you. – “Y/n?” – he said suddenly noticing the moon was gone. The world turned grim. He saw water benders around him try to bend with no success. His eyes widened, knowing it must happen to you as well. – “Y/n!” – he called out, running to look for you. You found your way to a bridge, shivering as you tried to keep your eyes open.
Another person came running towards you as it made you look. They came to a sudden stop in shock. Your expression hardened. – “Zhao!” – you said bitter. Zhao stared in shock at you, till he saw how weakened you were. He straightened his posture with a chuckle. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Moving your hands forwards you expected him to be hit by water. Yet nothing came.
Remembering again, you turned your hand to you, shaking with realization. Zhao laughed loud at your vulnerability. – “What’s the matter princess, can’t bend?” – Zhao mocked. – “Don’t worry.” – he said taking a stand. – “I still can.” – he finished punching fire at you. The impact made you fall back, crying in pain. You pulled yourself back up with every might of you. You weren’t going to let him win easily.
“You can’t win from me.” – he said teasingly. You took a stand with buckling knees and trembling hands. The side of your dress already stained with blood. Zhao readied himself to fire at you again, when he got interrupted by another blast of fire. – “Zhao!” – turning your head a bit, you saw Zuko come in sight. – “You took everything from me!” – he shouted bending more fire at him. Zhao got knocked back.
Zuko put all his anger into his bending, overwhelming Zhao with fire. Zhao crawled up to the side of the bridge, leaning against it. Worn out. – “Zu…Zuko…” – you said, drawing his attention to you. Zuko’s eyes widened seeing the state of you. Your knees gave in, making you collapse. Zuko caught you before your body could hit the ground. Zhao wanted to get up as he got hit by fire, the wall of the bridge, collapsing as he got blasted through it.
Iroh had a murderous look in his eye, his hands still in position. Zuko looked with concern at you. – “How… who did…” – he asked looking at the blood on your dress. He placed his hand against your cheek, to stop you from trembling. – “Y/n.” – Zuko said, his gaze soft, eyes glossy. – “Y/n.” – he repeated when you weren’t giving him much reaction.
“Y/n.” – he said more desperate as the pain reflected in his eyes. He looked down at your chest, seeing it barely move, hinting your breathing was dimming out. – “No, no no no no, Y/n!” – he called out panicking. – “Y/n!” – his eyes teary now. He panted out a breath, desperate to get a reaction out of you. – “Y/n!” – he called out again, shaking your shoulder. – “No! no!” – he cried out followed by a scream of agony. Iroh lowered his head in respect, grieving for his nephew. – “Please… Y/n please… don’t leave me yet…” – he said letting his forehead lean against yours.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/n.” – he sobbed out. – “Come back to me.” – his voice cracked a bit as a tear fell on your cheek. He shakily pressed his lips onto your forehead. – “I am not done with you. You still haven’t scolded me enough.” – he said in the hopes it would break a reaction out of you. – “Please Y/n… I…I… damn it!” – he cursed out. – “You cannot make me care for you and leave me like this!” – he outed in pain.
“So you care.” – you muttered weakly with a cough. Zuko’s eyes widened, looking down at you. You slowly opened your eyes, giving him a faint smile. Zuko grabbed your cheek, forcing his lips down on you. Your eyes widened more. His kiss was tender and soft. – “Look what you made me do Y/n.” – he said with a smile through his tears.
It made you chuckle out a laugh, only to be reminded of your pain once more. – “Uncle!” – Zuko called out. Iroh came running over, helping you up. Zuko picked you up in his arms, as you were still too weak to walk. – “We need to get to the ship now!” – he ordered. His uncle nodded firm. – “I’ll clear the way.” – he said not taking his task lightly.
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hi ive been reading ur works a lot recently and i enjoy them a lot!!! i love love ur writing sm hehe
if i may, can i request for a situation in where kinich and reader are friends (but have feelings for each other), and they basically have sex in a changing room while reader was asking him for his opinion for the swimwear they’d wear?
thats all thank u and pls take lots of rest !!
so sorry but i happened to make this nsfw plus afab!reader, no real gender for reader, kinich calls them flower :3
"kin'! can you come in here really quick?" you shouted from inside the second dressing room, scanning the way you looked in the mirror, twirl, and everything.
"flower, you're aware i'm a male about to enter a female dressing room?" he raised an eyebrow, later you both agreed on attending mualani's party as she came back from an abyss hunt, or at least celebrating the fact that her tribe continues to strive.
but neither of you really swam too often, resulting in no real swimwear you both regularly wore. mualani gave you a few recommendations, but you really couldn't decide.
"jus' get in here, need you for this!" you exclaimed. hesitance clear in his steps, shit you needed him? he felt his swim trunks tighten as he heard that. he already chose clothes out earlier, just finding whatever was nearest to his hair's color and went with it.
he sat right outside the stalls of the ones you changed inside. still reluctant about stepping in to assist you with "choosing a color"? shit maybe he had to check if he got the wrong size on his swimwear.
damn, maybe the moonlight-colored one looked better. or- no, maybe the one that matched your eyes.. shit what about the one that were the color of his?! he couldn't decide, but it was paradise getting to see you try different things on.
what smart, and bright idea did you have in mind that made you think it'd be a good idea to have him in the same damn room as he was while you changed.
the drop of your clothes only turned him on more, his ears turning a crazier shade of crimson. once you let him finally look, and turn around to let him get a three-sixty view of the next choice. getting a pretty little view of your ass, letting his eyes dip down a little too low when you turned back around to give a view of the front as well.
"well whaddya think!" you flash a soft smile, your hands on your waist. kinich has a hand over his mouth, in an attempt to cover the splices of his cheeks that transitioned to scarlet.
he starts walking closer, caressing his hands over your curves, every inch that he can reach, slowly exploring your body.
oh, well here you were—getting your cunt fucked crazy, letting your front face the mirror beautiful as he pounded your ass, nails dig into the soft flesh blissfully. "ssshit flower... you feel better than I imagined." he coos as the thickness of his dick hit your g-spot so heavenly.
it felt as though you sucked in his shaft perfectly. god if your pussy could speak for yourself, it'd be moaning the same way you were right now.
you could already feel the knot in your stomach tighten at the thought of this moment. "k- kin'.. ahh- fffuck anyone c- could walk in!" he chuckles with a sinister tone, raspy throat from groaning praise out into the shell of your ear, sending a few licks to it, making you shudder in pleasure.
"that's the thrill of it, pretty." he tilts your head up to make you look at the sexy scene in front of you, the mirror fogging up each time you whine, and sobs of pleasure from how it felt having someone inside you for the first time.
the calloused pads of his palms caressed your waist, his fingers marking not-so-deep crimson marks into your body. he slammed the very base of his cock into your cervix, making sure you felt everything, every inch, and width of his dick to your innermost parts.
the bliss of getting to feel every little building block fall into place as he continues his relentless pace into you. gushing your sobs, making sure they're quiet enough so the people outside wouldn't hear the way you wailed his name but loud enough for him to get turned on each damn time. your incessant pants definitely would've made it obvious to every person who passed by.
holy shit—if you kept squeezing onto him like that, he might just cum inside you and leave for the party, letting it drip as you both traveled over to toyac.
the seat underneath you creaked, "kin'! fuck," you whined as he shushed you again, fingers fitting nicely into your mouth. "q- quiet baby.. i know y'r close.." his eyes closely observed the way your chest rose, and fell, addicted to the way your body had hurried reactions to how good his cock felt up your entrance.
"y'knew haa- 'bout how i'd react nnnh- didn't you, sweetheart? hnnn-" he whispered next to the shell of your ear once more, filled with sultry lust—kissing your cheek. his hands roamed your body, feeling you up and down as much as he could.
"wan- no. need to cum together, baby.. cum with me." he sounded as if to plead, but his emerald-amber orbs you saw in the mirror spoke out in hunger, a starved man who only wants even more of your essence all over his cock.
there it was—sticky loads of milky-white released into you. kinich's hand reached under to feel the bulge he made into your stomach. he places a deep love mark into your neck as he moans into your skin. arching your back away from his chest unlike how previously you could feel his clenched abs on your spine.
"f- fffuck!" you had to cover your mouth since his digits removed themselves out and from your mouth. kinich sends swipes and licks over your collarbone and nape.
after a few minutes of breathy pants, and whimpers. he left himself inside you for a bit, lifting you up to face him as he sat down against he mirror this time instead of back shotting you from behind—
"so.. i get the feeling that you like this one the most?" you looked down onto the swimsuit that matched—even complimenting his, mualani would tease you two about it, but to be fair it is you two.
"..i'll buy it for you."
#──── resin: performances#genshin impact x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin headcanons#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#genshin impact scenarios#genshin smut#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x you#genshin x female reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin x you#kinich smut#kinich x reader#genshin kinich#genshin impact kinich#kinich#kinich x reader smut#kinich x y/n#kinich x you#smut#x reader
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can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!
MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)
sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.
the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.
the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".
art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.
art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)
the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.
an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".
that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.
me: sure, come over anytime
art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.
as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.
you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.
a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).
you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.
art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.
art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.
#parkerluvsu#parker.talks#challengers x reader#art donaldson#challengers 2024#challengers#art donaldson x reader#challengers smut#art donaldson smut
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flores amarillas. — franco colapinto x gf!reader
él la estaba esperando con una flor amarilla / ella lo estaba soñando con la luz en su pupila / y el amarillo del sol iluminaba la esquina / lo sentía tan cercano, lo sentía desde niña.
summary: franco surprised you at the airport on a special saturday.
wc: 800
warnings: none! just fluff, conversations in spanish, idiots in love and a established relationship.
A/N: feliz día internacional (latino mostly) de las flores amarillas hehehehe i added the context in the fic so i won't give it here !
now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta
The only way your trajectory to Singapore could get worse was if the plane exploded mid-air like in Final Destination.
It was humiliating; you were supposed to arrive Friday, and by the time you took your last connection, the estimated time of arrival was for early Saturday morning. The bags under your eyes were bigger than the ones sitting in the compartment underneath the passengers, you went from lack of sleep due to excitement to hibernation, ignoring the flight attendants who attempted to wake you up.
You only rose from your slumber while the destination edged nearer, to freshen up and half heartedly have breakfast. You did your best to look presentable, flushing away in the sink the despair from both the missed connections and long customs lines. This involved changing out of the designated airport lounging outfit into something more fresh, having prepared the outfit in your personal bag, feeling the humidity already crawl up your bones even when you hadn’t descended.
After his excellent work in Baku, Franco was eager to finally fly you out to see him race live in the top category, only having experienced him in the feeder series. The nerves ate you up, walking the paddock with your boyfriend was something you had fantasized about, but never expected to become a reality even when he reached Formula One.
But there you were, praying for your bag to come out and not have gotten lost, leaving a big sigh of relief upon spotting it, untampered with. It wasn’t that heavy, and it was that moment of strength that took over you whenever your boyfriend wasn’t there to carry everything.
As soon as your roaming plan kicked in you contacted him, letting him know you were there. He told you he hired a chauffeur to pick you up and take you back to the hotel, excusing himself due to the need to rest before paddock duties, which you completely understood.
Imagine the surprise to see him standing at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of yellow flowers.
His face lit up in joy at the same time yours lit up in surprise, a delicate hand flying over to cover the O your mouth had turned into.
Gifting yellow flowers on September 21st was used to celebrate the beginning of spring in the southern hemisphere, and the phenomenon just spread all throughout Hispanic countries. You’d dropped hints here and there, but with the stress from your flight… situations you’d completely forgotten about everything else.
Your suitcase made noise against the floor as you dragged it along your sprint, letting it go— but making sure it stayed put— before hugging him tight. His laughter replenished all the energy the trouble had taken away from you, nuzzling into his shirt to breathe in his scent.
Yeah, it was your Franco.
“¡Me mentiste!” You proclaimed, hitting him in the chest. He ignored the subject of the yellow flowers and supposedly arranged for a third party to pick you up.
“Buen día princesa hermosa, feliz de verte.” He blatantly ignored your claims, leaning in to smooch your cheek, hanging the bouquet of sunflowers with fresh eucalyptus mixed in for some greenery. You didn’t know if your ears felt warm because of the high temperatures or the flattery.
“¿Cómo es que iba la canción? Ella sabía que el sabía que sabía que algún día pasaría—“ You interrupted his annoying high pitched sing along while you took a picture of the plants, heart thumping in your chest.
“No, no. Que él sabía que algún día pasaría a buscarla—“ Now it was his turn for him to interrupt you, putting a finger over your lips.
“—con sus flores amarillas!” Though you would regularly be offended at him interrupting you, you almost giggled at his antics.
You stood there for a second, unable to tear your eyes away from the warm toned bouquet, still in the best type of disbelief. You didn’t notice it was you who he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.
The second you told him you were asking for all the permissions to get a vacation sorted to see him race, he knew he had to make it special. And by your reaction, he knew it was a mission accomplished. Besides, it warmed his heart to see you so happy.
“Let’s go get you freshen up and head to the paddock, if I’m any later than the hour I have left, they’re going to replace me.” Now the idea didn’t terrify you just as much, you were too busy gawking about the surprise to your mom and your friends, following him to the car knowing you had no time to lose nor spare.
He took both your weekender and the medium sized suitcase, letting you to only carry the weight of having the best boyfriend ever.
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !
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Breed like Gnomes [Fred Weasley]
Title: Breed like Gnomes.
Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley
Timeline: Set after Canon (Fred lives!)
Summary: At Ginny and Harry’s wedding, you find yourself facing Aunt Muriel’s unpleasantness, so Fred decides to have some fun.
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, sexual references.
Word count: 1.2k
June 4th 2003, a joyful and long awaited day for all in attendance. The marriage of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley. It was a family affair, both in blood and bond, the entire venue packed with loved ones sharing in the happiness of the newlyweds.
Being Ginny's long standing friend and now sister-in-law, you were naturally made a bridesmaid along with six others who proudly stood by Ginny's side as she said her vows. It was beautiful, joyous and utterly heartwarming to see them unite and be declared husband in wife in front of the many people attending. The couple had initially wanted a much smaller affair than what had transpired but in the end, they were too deeply cared for by so many and the numbers were ever increasing, only made worse by Molly's excitement and welcoming nature.
It had been a truly magical day; getting to support your new sister in law, to see your daughter throw wild flowers down the aisle and most of all getting to check out your husband in his tux as he sat beaming beside his twin brother in the front row, holding back a tear at seeing his little sister suddenly looking so grown up.
"You alright sweetheart?" Fred asks worriedly as you lower yourself gently into your assigned seat inside the bustling marquee. It was getting late now, the party stretching into the night as people danced merrily around you.
You were exhausted from the day, the early morning, the usual nuptial stresses and from the shoes that were growing increasingly uncomfortable around your slightly swollen ankles.
You simply smiled warmly at Fred with a little nod, leaning into his touch when he placed his arm behind you on your chair, his fingers fidgeting with the strands of hair that had fallen down your back.
You both turned your heads in the direction of delighted squeals and watched as your children danced around, chasing each other and their many cousins with beaming smiles on their faces. Their nice outfits were quite frankly ditched at this point and they'd eaten more cake than you cared to admit throughout the day but as you looked at the three happy faces on the dance floor, you couldn't care less. Their uncle George took turns spinning and twirling them and you couldn't help but watch in devotion at seeing your oldest dancing with your brother in law, no doubt standing on his feet as he glided her around whilst the twins ran in circles around the dancing pair.
You let out a little surprise gasp when you felt a sharp kick to your side, just underneath your rib.
"I thought you were asleep," you say quietly with a loving smile as your hand drifts down to your blooming bump, gently rubbing over the spot where you'd felt a little prod.
"Letting you know he's there?" Fred asks with a smirk, noticing your movements. He moved closer and places his large hand over yours, wanting to feel for himself the little kicks that had you smiling at your bump.
"He?" You question sarcastically, with a slight raise of your eyebrow.
"Fathers intuition," Fred smirks with a slight shrug, "never been wrong yet."
"You didn't know there were two last time," you countered teasingly, nodding your head towards the two litttle boys causing havoc on the dance floor. He lets out a boyish chuckle and for a moment you both catch each other's eyes, both twinkling in delight and bound with love. You'd been married for nearly five years, together for much longer but it still took your breath away how much you loved this man, and how much he loved you in return.
"Good heavens!"
The nice moment passed as soon as the loud, screechy voice sounded out on the next table, forcing you apart. You jumped slightly at the unexpected noise before realising that Fred's great aunt Muriel had taken up a seat at the table beside yours and as usual her presence was unwanted. Her voice went through you, like nails on a chalkboard. The high tone and the derogatory, unpleasant undertone to her words, accompanied by the constant hateful look on her face were enough to cement a negative association in your mind. Both you and Fred deflated a little at her presence, with Fred letting out an audible sigh that you felt in your soul. Even your baby let out a sharp kick as if to announce their own displeasure at the sound of her voice.
"Yes aunt Muriel?" Fred says in the most monotone voice he can muster, not even attempting to hide the dismay in his voice, or his face.
"Godric," she mumbles under her breath, casting her eyes between the two of you, focusing her beady eyes on your bump, and where your children were currently hanging off George like monkeys in a tree. "You breed like gnomes!"
You hope your face doesn't show the depth of your exasperation at her words but you doubted your ability to keep a straight face. Fred, of course, finds it hilarious and can't keep the smile off of his face. You can feel his shoulders moving up and down with silent laughter but he manages to contain it and simply clears his throat to hide the laughter.
"Have either of you considered simply reading of an evening? Instead of what I assume are your usual activities?" She says with a bitter tone, face downturned into her usual grimace.
Fred snorts at her words and though you feel slightly offended by her accusation, just as you always did by her comments, you can't help but chuckle yourself at the strangeness of the situation. Was she really commenting on your sex life?
"Onto your fourth already! And only 25! You’re worse than your mother, all of you breed like Gnomes."
"You see I've never been one for reading, but I tried," Fred replies coyly. From his tone of voice you can tell that he's teasing, about to prod the bear. "But it only gave me more ideas. What was is called sweetheart? Some muggle book... Kama sutra! Eroticism for begginers. Let me tell you, it's changed my life! Couldn't put it down... or her," he says, nodding his head towards you with a wicked smile on his face as his hand snakes around to cradle your bump once again.
You can't hide your smile this time as Muriel lets out a disgusted squark and turns away with a deeper grimace than before. You turn your head and snuggle into Fred's shoulder to hide your laughter whilst he openly chuckles to himself, head thrown back slightly in glee.
"You're terrible," you mutter with a smirk, pulling yourself away from the soft fabric of his shirt where it stretches over his muscled shoulders. His smile is wide and wicked as he takes in your words, hearing nothing but compliments.
"Hilarious is a better word," he quips, eyes shining in delight.
"Incorrigible."
"Completely irreformable," he agrees without a single care. "But I think you like me like this."
You look up from under your lashes at him, matching the look in his sparkling eyes and can't help but agree.
Taglist part 1 ♡
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#emeritusemeritus#emeritusemerituswrites#harry potter#fred weasley#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley masterlist
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❀𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒 *:・゚
A little jealous dbf!miguel x fem!reader for those who are like me and are STARVED for more of this man. It’s concerning how much I want him :(((
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Summary: After a sorority event at your college a guy decides to give you flowers. Bringing them home with you, your dads best friend Miguel gets a little jealous.
Word count: 2.7k
Pairing: dbf!miguel x fem!reader
Proof read-ish
⋆┈┈┈┈┈┈┈。゚❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ゚。┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆
(Outfit: baby pink long sleeve with really short shorts for the thick mamis yummy)
A crush was an understatement.
Definitely an understatement when it came to this man.
I peered outside of my bedroom window to look down at the pair that were standing in the yard. My attention wasn’t currently on my dad that hadn’t stopped talking for the past 5 minutes but instead was on the other man directly in front of him.
It was as if God himself came down to earth just to carve this handsome and incredibly sexy human being into existence.
Miguel continued nodding to whatever was coming out of my dads mouth with his arms crossed over his chest, making his veins fairly visible even at a distance. I felt myself drooling over this man. Quickly shaking my head I grabbed my school backpack and headed off to the sorority meeting that I needed to attend.
I took a deep breath before stepping out of the door to face both of the men outside.
“Princesa! A donde vas?” My dad quickly turned his attention to me as I opened the door, making Miguel’s eyes stray. I gulped. (Princess! Where are you going?)
“Apa I have to go see my sorority team for our charity event today, remember?” I crossed my arms over my chest as I spoke, knowing he had completely forgotten. (Apa- Dad)
“Ya te estás poniendo viejo! Como no te vas a acordar de los eventos de tu hija?” Miguel playfully hit my dads shoulder as he spoke. (You’re getting old! How are you going to forget your daughter's events?)
My eyes darted to Miguel as he made his comment. My dad instantly glared at him before turning back to me.
“Okay que te vaya bien mi niña…” My dad sighed before giving me a kiss on the forehead. Miguel stood there eyeing me before giving me a small grin and waving his hand. (Okay my girl good luck)
“Como andas mami?” He asked kindly, I felt my heart skip a beat. With a genuine smile I make my way towards him as well to give him a hug. He placed his big hands on my waist and gripped my hips tightly. (How are you mami?)
“I-I’m good…y tú?” Fuck me. God was not on my side this morning with the way my legs gave in a bit. I felt my face heat up as I quickly pulled away from his grasp. My gaze found his, he grinned down at me it almost felt taunting.(and you?)
“Bien mami, que te vaya bien hoy al rato nos vemos.” He said softly before turning his attention back to my dad. I nodded quickly and said goodbye to both of them before heading to my car. (Good mami, good luck I’ll see you later.)
My mind was everywhere after that simple conversation, it’s been like this since my dad and him became friends back in my freshman year of college. Both of them ended up working at the same carpenters company and became close instantly. He would invite Miguel to our cookouts, family parties, or just to watch the soccer games. My heart would beat out of my chest anytime he’d come over. Whenever he would come talk to me and let me chismear with him about college, he would always seem so interested in how I was and how school/life was going. Which was one of the reasons why I was starting to crush on him. (Chismear = gossip)
Not just because of how undoubtedly attractive he was. But it was definitely on the list.
I tried my best to draw my attention to anyone else in school to at least diminish the crush but it never worked. It would always be the comparisons between the guy and Miguel.
Was he attentive? No. Miguel would always be attentive to me.
Did he make sure to make me feel comfortable? No. Miguel always makes me feel comfortable.
Does he know your favorite color? No. Miguel knows my favorite color.
No.
No.
No.
It was aggravating how none of these other guys, who were my age, fit the Miguel checkbox. It was tiring enough to have a crush on my dads best friend.
•✿❀✿•
The sororitys charity event had gone smooth thankfully. It was dark out by the time I got back home. I quickly lock my car and unlock the front door to the house. Chatting and laughter was instantly heard as I stepped in.
He’s still here?
I grip the bouquet of flowers in my hands and make my way into the living room.
“I’m back apa.” I say before giving my dad a kiss on the cheek.
“Como te fue mija? Y esas flores que?” My dad asked curiously as he eyed the bouquet in my hand. I flush instantly. (How did it go sweety? And what about those flowers?)
“The event went well! A-Ah…this guy at the charity event gave them to me! He was one of the freshmen that came to assist us.” I stammer noticing Miguel’s stare from the corner of my eye.
“Why?”
Both mine and my dads eyes snapped towards Miguel. His tone wasn’t soft and sweet like how he would always talk to me but instead cold and harsh. After noticing the questioning looks me and my dad were giving him, he quickly changed his intense expression.
“I mean…was it for all of you girls or for the event?” He cleared his throat and caught himself quickly.
“Oh…no it was just for me actually. It was a really nice gesture.” I smiled genuinely as I tried to ease the awkwardness. My dad chuckled.
“He likes you~” My dad teased while poking my ticklish side.
“Apa no! He was just being sweet, that's all!” I frowned at him and swatted his hand away.
Miguel on the other end wasn’t having it. He was fuming in his seat as he took another sip of the beer in his hand. His eyes stayed on the bouquet of roses in your hand making him want to throw them away just to get you a better bouquet and not from some random boy.
Was it stupid to be jealous over someone younger than him? Sure. Did he give a fuck? Definitely not.
The daughter of his best friend has been a plague in his mind ever since he stepped in this house. He purposely tried to come over any chance he could just to see you. The way it was obvious how nervous you would get whenever he was around. The way you stammer over your words whenever he gets too close. The way your innocent eyes would look at him. He desperately wanted to see those eyes rolling back as he ruined you and pounded into you mercilessly.
It was addicting.
Too addicting.
Sometimes he’d have to keep himself from looking too long just like today. Those fucking shorts were too short for your own damn good. The plumpness of your thighs and how the meat of your ass was almost out for everyone’s eyes. It was too much for him. The way the color pink makes you look so innocent but so sexy at the same time made him go ballistic.
The sudden sound of a phone ringing snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Pinche madre… ahorita vengo me anda llamando el jefe. Bueno!” My dads voice echoed down the hall into his bedroom as he shut the door behind him. (Motherfucker…I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me. Hello?)
Silence.
I cleared my throat before heading into the kitchen and leaving the flowers on the counter. My heart was racing too much. I tried to keep my cool before speaking again.
“Do you want anything else to drink Miggy?” I called out to him.
Silence.
“Miguel?” I called out again. I pursued my lips together as I heard footsteps, assuming they were my dads I turn my back to the living room and grab water. The foot steps drew closer while I turned back around with a cup of water in my hand.
“Is Miguel mad apa?-“ I ask before two arms trapped me against the counter. My eyes widen as I look up to see Miguel’s eyes staring back down at me.
“Am I mad?” He asks back in a harsh tone.
My mouth fell open as I tried to answer back with my mind going completely blank.
“Cant even get an answer back…” He spit, he took the cup from my hand and took a sip before putting off to the side.
“I am mad mami because some random little boy decided to give you flowers…” He said with a grin before twirling a strand of my hair with his finger. My brows furrow, my hands press against his chest.
“And what about it? I-It was just a nice gesture!” I say back and turn away from him with a huff.
“Ha…a nice gesture? Don’t defend him mami because you and me both know that little shit likes you…”
I don’t respond but instead pushed him away from me. He stared down at me as I put some distance between the two of us.
“Why are you mad about it anyway…”
I mumble turning my back to him. My fingers delicately run over the petals before his hand gripped my wrist in a swift motion. His chest was pressed against my back as he leaned into my ear.
“Because I don’t want any man giving my girl flowers…”
Holy shit.
My breath hitched but not only because of how close he was. But “My girl?” My legs quivered a bit but I tried my best to stand my ground.
“No soy tuya…” I spit back knowing damn well I would drop at the chance of being called his again. He chuckled in my ear before pressing himself closer against me. (I’m not yours)
“Don’t pretend that you don’t like me mami. Those pretty eyes of yours tell me everything I need to know…” He whispered as his hand trailed up and down my waist.
“Miguel my dad is going to come out any minute!” I try to push back only to be met with his hips pressed against my ass. His hand grips my waist as he rubs himself against me.
“Mami me vale, lo único que quiero ahorita es tenerte para mi y solo para mi…” The tone in his voice softened down almost to a whisper. The way he spoke did something to me, it made me not care about my surroundings and the consequences of getting caught. I threw any sense of control away as I slowly leaned down on the counter to arch my back a bit. His hands gripped my hips tightly as he brought me closer to him. (Mami I don’t care, the only thing I want right now is to have you and only for me)
“Ves? Sueño en tenerte así…” He moaned softly, seeing me oblige to his touch. (See? I dream about having you like this)
”¿Sueñas conmigo?” I tease, completely letting go of the shyness that I originally felt. I rub my ass against his stiff erection that touched my inner thigh. He groaned in response. (You dream about me?)
“How the fuck could I not? Mírate mami…te rezo…” His tone only made me weak. He thrusted against my clothed area almost begging to take off what was separating us. (Look at you mami…I pray for you)
“Miguel~…” A soft whine left my lips as the dry thrusts were only making my neediness worse. He huffed in a frustrated manner.
“Fuck this.” Was all he said before moving the denim fabric to the side as he inserted two fingers into my dripping cunt. A small moan left my lips before my hand quickly covered my mouth.
“Calladita mami…we wouldn’t want your dad to hear how needy you are do we?” He whispers in my ear as he pumped faster into my cunt. My eyes shut tightly while my walls tighten around his thick fingers. (Quite Mami)
“You’re swallowing me mami…”
His dirty words only made me want more from him. My dad begin a couple rooms down from us completely left my mind, all I could think of now was Miguel. The adrenaline was sky rocketing as my hips bucked against his fingers for more friction.
“M-Miguel this- this isn’t right…” I moan helplessly, feeling a knot in my stomach forming once he sped up.
“Oh but it’s so right mami…look at you moving all on your own for my fingers.” He mused in my ear. Quiet moans were muffled by my hand as he continued to finger me mercilessly. But before I could release against him, the soft vibration of my phone echoed in the kitchen. My eyes darted instantly to the phone next to me before Miguel’s hand grabbed it. A small ‘tsk’ left his lips before he clicked answer.
“Hello?”
“H-Hi is Y/N there?”
“She’s busy right now. Who is this?” He mumbled back in an annoyed tone as he slowed his pace. I whine softly and I turn to glare at him.
“Can you let her know that Eric from the charity event called? I just wanted to ask if she liked the flowers…”
My eyes widen once I heard that familiar voice. Miguel instantly inserted another finger and fastened his pace again but this time more aggressively. I gripped the counter top tightly trying to hold back my moans while he was on the phone.
“We’ll this is her boyfriend speaking and I’d appreciate you not giving my girlfriend flowers.” He spat back before hanging up and putting the phone back down of the counter.
“Did you like the flowers mami? Tell me right now if you liked him giving you those fucking flowers.” He asked harshly into my ear as he continued pumping into me. I shook my head in response, feeling my release nearing again.
“Use your words mami…”
“N-No~ I-I didn’t like them…” I whine back as quietly as possible.
Satisfied, he pumped faster and faster before my sweet release dripped all over his hand. I held myself up with the little bit of energy I had left in me before standing up straight again.
“That’s my girl…always doing so good for me…” He said, staring down at me with a smirk as he licked on his fingers and hand until he was all cleaned up. He pulled me against his chest while I adjusted my shorts again before frowning at him.
“You didn’t have to be so mean you know?” I cross my arms over my chest as I tried to ease my panting. He shrugged before kissing my cheek.
“Serves him right for liking my girl.”
“Dónde están?” (Where are you guys?)
Our heads snapped to the sound of my dads voice getting closer. I pushed him away and quickly sat on the opposite side of the counter before my dad came in.
“Aquí estamos apa!” I say back. He stepped into the kitchen and stared at the both of us. (We’re in here dad!)
“Por que tan callados?” He asked suspiciously, turning his attention to Miguel who shrugged. (Why are you guys so quiet?)
“Por nada solo le decía que ese muchacho que le dio flores está enamorado de ella” Miguel smiled in a teasing manner before my dad turned back to me. (Nothing, I was just telling her that the guy that gave her flowers has a crush on her.)
“A lo mejor si mija échale ojo!” My dad laughed before going back into the living room. (Maybe my girl, keep an eye on him!)
I glared at him. He motioned me over with his hand, making sure my dad was out of sight. I peer into the living room before going back to him again.
“What?” I whisper.
“There’s gonna be something waiting for you tomorrow morning. Be on the look out okay?” He whispered back before planting another kiss on my cheek. I smiled before nodding as we both head back into the living room.
•✿❀✿•
I woke up bright and early to get a head start on my homework before running some errands. After finishing some assignments there was a soft knock at the front door. I waited a bit before heading out and opening the door.
An enormous bouquet of roses laid on the door mat. My mouth fell open as I looked around for anyone in sight that could have left them. I pick them up and shut the door behind me. There was a small note on the top that read:
“Estas flores son más hermosas que las que te dio ese idiota.
Con mucho amor, M”
(These flowers are way more beautiful than the ones that idiot gave you. With love, M)
Yeah. Definitely an understatement.
#dbf!miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel 2099#miguel x reader#miguel smut#miguel spiderman#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#atsv miguel#miguel ohara#spiderverse miguel#jealous! Miguel O’Hara#miguel o’hara smut
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Hello 💕 If you're still accepting headcanons requests, could you write something about a reader who seems normal and "ordinary" and even a little shy/demure but shines brilliantly on stage as if a completely different person (can be an actor, singer, idol etc.) with Rook and Vil and the Pop music club (separately)? Tysm 💓
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the opposite of stage fright
type of post: headcanons characters: cater, kalim, rook, vil, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu
introverts are Lilia's favorite people
...to torture
when you first started attending club meetings, he assumed you were some kind of groupie
I mean, who wouldn't want to fawn over him?
but he still tried to drag you into club activities
you just... refused to play anything, wouldn't sing, wouldn't so much as speak...
but Lilia was confident he could get you to stop holding back
so, the club got clever
at their next concert, Kalim ~magically~ has a sore throat
and who else to take his place but the only other member of the club?
manipulative little fae...
and, as he thought, you had been holding back
the concert is a rousing success
...and he's never going to let you forget it
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is like a bloodhound for talent
he can smell the potential on you from one look at your plain, slightly-disheveled self
he knows that any other student would have ignored you. but he isn't just any student
he knows you're holding out on him
and he'll crack that shell of yours no matter what it takes
that is to say,
once you've caught his eye,
you will never know peace again
...and maybe that sounds like an over exaggeration, but if you're a timid person, it's your worst nightmare
I mean dance rehearsals twice a week, vocal training, posture, projection, poise, presentation-
everything
the other Pomefiore students may give you odd looks as you walk by on their Housewarden's arm,
but he knows
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim doesn't need a big performance to know that he's already proud of you
what can I say? he's got enough enthusiastic hugs to go around
and he definitely doesn't mind that you're shy
...honestly, the thought hasn't even occurred to him
even if you don't want to party or dance or say hi to everyone in the dorm every time you come over,
he like you. he doesn't need anything else
you're already amazing to him
and ... in a way, he kind of turns out to be right?
he had always said he could see the star in you, and here you are, performing on stage like a professional!
...not that he isn't surprised
Kalim is completely blown away
it's all he can talk about for the next week, actually
(much to your embarrassment)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Rook had a feeling
...and he's also listened to you singing to yourself when you thought you were alone
I mean WHAT who said that
he definitely just had a feeling
now, seeing you on stage, he's almost brought to his knees
having watched the seed of your beauty blossom into a beautiful flower is the ultimate enrichment for him
and unlike Vil, he waited for you to blossom on your own
a hunter is nothing if not patient, after all
though, he still can't help but feel a little accomplished...
even though he didn't push you, or train you, he kept the secret of your beauty all to himself
...which is a kind of guidance
admittedly, he wouldn't have minded keeping it all to himself for a little while longer, though
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Cater always just thought of you as...
...kinda cute. right?
you were shy and quiet, always avoiding his camera, meek, the kind of person that doesn't last long at NRC
...of course, he had to take you under his wing!
sort of?
really, he just liked that you let him talk your ear off
he didn't even mind that you never let him take your picture! ...kind of
and he thought he knew you pretty well, but...
...seeing you on stage after the music club's performance...
totally wiping the floor with them...
well, well, you still find ways to surprise him
of course, though, now that he knows you're a world-class performer, he's never going to let it go
he got a lot of likes on the videos of your performance, after all
I guess he finally got that picture he wanted ;3
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#queued#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#kalim al asim x reader#cater diamond x reader
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