#bags under his eyes deepening as he stares | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

livdomtruther · 2 days ago

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FRAGMENTS OF US.

It had been almost a year since Liv and Dominik began their fragile, breathless dance of love—a love that felt impossibly new, like touching sunlight after a lifetime in shadow. To Liv, their love was effortless, but for Dominik, it was everything he hadn’t dared to believe he could have. She had woven her way into his life with quiet patience, her presence something warm, soft, something he had longed for but didn’t think he deserved.

Dominik still felt the weight of scars left by his last relationship, a storm that had ravaged him in ways that still bled, wounds he’d convinced himself would never heal. That relationship had been a series of emotional landmines, each step a shattering test of trust, leaving him bruised and hollowed, haunted by the twisted echoes of words meant to comfort but used as knives. There were days when he couldn’t escape the poison of those memories, when he could still feel the suffocating grip around his heart, a vice he thought he’d never free himself from.

But then, there was Liv. She walked into his life as if she belonged there, bringing with her a calmness that seeped into the spaces he had abandoned long ago. She didn’t demand him to be healed, didn’t ask him to forget his scars; instead, she ran her fingers over the wounds, her touch a promise that his brokenness didn’t make him unworthy. With her, love was tender and real, every moment something he wanted to hold onto but feared he might break.

Every time she laughed, it felt like she was stitching him back together, bit by fragile bit. With Liv, he was no longer the fractured, burdened man he’d been. She gave him the strength to believe that maybe he wasn’t destined to bleed forever, that maybe—just maybe—he could let himself be loved without looking over his shoulder for the pain he’d come to expect.

Their meeting felt ripped from a scene they’d both watched countless times on lonely nights, wondering if moments like these ever really happened. Liv was weaving through the crowds, lost in her own world, her headphones plugged in, blocking out the noise of the bustling city around her. Dominik, on the other hand, was darting through the crowd with his mind already at work, his eyes scanning the street for the time, for the next step, always rushing.

Then, without warning, they collided.

Their bags hit the ground, and Liv’s headphones fell to the pavement in a tangled mess. They both froze, mumbling a string of half-formed apologies, each word stumbling over the other’s. But the moment their eyes met, apologies dissolved into awkward, breathless laughter—laughter that filled the space between them and seemed to hush the city noise for a heartbeat.

Dominik knelt to help her, fumbling as he gathered her headphones and bag, handing them back with a shy, crooked smile. And he couldn’t stop staring. Her eyes, a shade of blue he’d never quite seen before, drew him in like the pull of a tide. “You... you have pretty eyes,” he blurted, as though the words had a mind of their own. The color in Liv’s cheeks deepened, her lips curling up as she tried to look away. “I love your hair,” she managed, her own voice soft, almost nervous, as if she’d just shared a secret.

They stood there, grinning like fools, suspended in the warmth of that single, charged moment. But reality tugged at them both, reminding them of places to be, and reluctantly, they pulled apart, each glancing back with smiles lingering long after the other had disappeared into the crowd.

Neither of them realized they were heading to the same place, just from different directions. When Dominik arrived at work, he was still thinking of her, and the memory of her laugh kept him smiling in a way he hadn’t in a long time. But then he glanced up, and his breath caught. There, standing under the spotlight, was the pretty blonde girl who’d just swept into his life, guitar in hand, her eyes shining under the stage lights—the girl he hadn’t known he’d been looking for.

As the final note of Liv’s song drifted into silence, her eyes lifted, scanning the crowd—and then, she saw him. They locked eyes, a spark flickering between them, and it was as if the rest of the room faded away, leaving just the two of them in the warm glow of the stage lights. Dominik’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder that he was feeling something he thought he’d buried long ago.

For the past year, he’d sworn off romance, his broken heart hardened by the bitterness of betrayal. Love at first sight, he used to think, was just a cheap trick, a fairy tale he’d long outgrown. He’d scoffed at every romantic comedy, every “meant to be” storyline, unwilling to believe in a magic he’d once foolishly chased. But now, here he was, spellbound by the girl on stage, his cynicism melting away like ice under her gaze.

Liv, in contrast, had always believed. Even when she was overlooked, cast aside as an afterthought, she’d never lost faith in the magic of love. She was a hopeless romantic, the kind who believed love could be found in the smallest moments—a soft glance, a shared laugh, the quiet warmth of someone simply being there. She poured her heart into her songs, her lyrics filled with stories of love she’d never known but desperately dreamed of. To her, love was endless, infinite; she held close the belief that everyone deserved it, even if it was fleeting.

Their lives began to intertwine in ways that felt almost like fate. Liv started performing at Dominik’s work regularly, and each time she stepped into the room, his pulse quickened, and the walls he’d built began to crack. She no longer performed just for the crowd; she sang for him, and he felt it in every note. Dominik, who had once drifted through his days with numb indifference, now felt something like hope, a strange warmth blossoming whenever she was near.

And so, they fell into an unspoken rhythm—Liv pouring her heart into each performance, her gaze finding him in the crowd, while Dominik waited, heart racing, for those few precious moments when their worlds collided. He knew she was the only reason he still showed up, and she, in turn, felt the fire she sang about, igniting every time their eyes met. It was as if fate had known all along: they were bound to cross paths, to be each other's light, each other’s reason to believe.

And so, that was how their love story began—a story that felt like it was written in the stars yet grounded in the simplest, sweetest moments. Liv was the spark that reignited Dominik’s belief in love, melting away years of hurt and mistrust, and Dominik was the first person who showed Liv that she was more than someone’s second choice, more than a fleeting thought. Together, they fit like two puzzle pieces finally finding their place, their edges worn but fitting all the more beautifully because of it.

They were inseparable, often seen side by side as if bound by some invisible thread. Their laughter became a familiar melody to anyone who knew them, and they had made a home in each other’s presence. Liv had met his friends, her warmth weaving easily into the group, and Dominik had met hers, his quiet strength endearing him to those closest to her. Even their families had grown close, recognizing that something rare and real had blossomed between them. Dominik’s boss, always quick with a quip, would often say, “This bar’s got magic—it’s where love finds its way.” Dominik would roll his eyes, brushing it off with a smile, but deep down, he knew it was true.

As their one-year anniversary approached, Liv felt her heart swell with the weight of her love for him, a feeling so big it seemed to leave no room to breathe. She wanted to give him something that would show him how he had changed her life. She planned, in secret, to surprise him with a love song, a piece of her heart she’d spent months pouring onto the crumpled pages she kept hidden away. She practiced tirelessly, her voice growing stronger as she sang, every word laced with a tender ache, a reminder of how deeply she loved him. Her tears had fallen on the paper as she wrote, her emotions staining the words, and with each rehearsal, her heart ached a little more with anticipation and hope.

The song was her gift, a piece of her soul offered up in a melody. She imagined his face when he heard it, imagined the way he’d look at her as he finally understood the depth of her feelings. For her, it was the purest way to say everything her words had fallen short of, to show him that he was the one who’d taken her wounded heart and made it whole. And as the days slipped closer to their anniversary, Liv held her secret close, her heart brimming with love, her voice carrying a promise only he would understand.

It was supposed to be a simple surprise, one of the many little gestures she loved to make for Dominik. She had come early to see him, just to spend a few more precious minutes together before his shift, her excitement buzzing beneath her skin. But she’d misread his schedule, arriving hours before he was due in, and found herself alone with his friends, Finn and Damian, the regular workers at the bar who always made her feel welcome. They’d laughed off her mistake, keeping her company while they worked, and she’d slipped off to the restroom, smiling at how everything just felt right, even in these small moments.

But as she was walking back, her steps slowed, her breath catching when she heard her name in their voices, hushed but sharp. She lingered by the doorway, heart beginning to pound, as Finn’s voice rose over the clinking of glasses.

“Don’t you think Liv is a bit…” he started, his voice carrying an edge she’d never heard before.

Damian cut him off, his tone light but cruel. “Clingy? Burdensome?” he sneered, a smirk in his voice that made her chest tighten.

A nervous laugh escaped from Finn, and then they were both laughing, a sound that seemed to echo around her like a haunting. She felt herself freeze, willing it to be some kind of joke, something she’d misunderstood, but the words kept coming, each one striking her harder than the last.

“Can’t believe Dom fell for a chick like her,” Damian said, his tone dismissive, biting. There was a cruelty in his voice that felt like it was slicing through her, word by word.

Finn chuckled darkly, not even hesitating. “I don’t either. Michelle was for sure prettier… and less of a hassle, you know?”

The knot in Liv’s stomach twisted, and she felt her hands clench into fists, her nails biting into her palms as she stood there, hidden but unable to turn away. She felt as though she were peeling back the glossy surface of something beautiful only to reveal something rotted underneath, something she had never wanted to see. These were Dominik’s friends, the people who knew him best, who had accepted her with open arms—or so she’d thought.

They continued, oblivious to the way their words were tearing her apart.

“Honestly,” Damian scoffed, “her coming here all the time? You can tell it has to be a burden for him. Poor Dom, putting up with all that…”

Liv felt her heart shatter, the pieces scattering as their laughter filled the empty spaces. Everything she’d told herself—her confidence, her belief in what she and Dominik shared—now felt like a fragile illusion, breaking under the weight of their words. She wanted to turn around, to flee before they could see the tears that stung her eyes, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

All those moments she’d spent with Dominik, every smile, every whispered promise—they now felt tainted, tangled up in the doubt and pain that was tearing through her. Her mind spun, replaying every time she’d come to the bar just to see him, every time she’d caught him watching her with a soft look that had made her heart skip. But now she wondered if she’d been wrong all along. If, behind that gentle smile, he’d really been wishing she would just leave.

Her chest felt hollow, her heart a fragile thing on the verge of breaking, and for the first time, she wondered if she had been nothing but a burden all along.

They had no idea, no idea how every word of theirs clawed at old wounds Liv had tried so hard to bury. Each careless laugh, every cruel, dismissive remark echoed with the voices of her past, bringing them back to life with brutal clarity. She’d heard it before—too clingy, too needy, a burden to anyone who got close. That was what every guy before Dominik had told her, and she’d believed it, even as she’d tried to push those thoughts away, to convince herself that she deserved more, that she wasn’t too much.

But hearing it now, from his friends, the people who knew him best—it was as if they’d ripped the bandages off, exposing wounds she’d never really let heal. Her breath caught, becoming shallow, ragged, and all she could think was, Is that what I am to him? Am I really just a burden?

Every moment she’d spent with Dominik played back in her mind, warped and distorted. She remembered how she’d shown up early, how she’d stayed late, how she’d hung on every word he’d said. She thought of the countless times she’d come to his work, thinking she was making his day a little brighter. But now, all those memories twisted, darkening under the weight of her doubt. Maybe he’d just been tolerating her, too kind to tell her she was suffocating him, just like everyone else had.

She swallowed hard, trying to push down the thick lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry as she walked back into the bar, her hands trembling at her sides. Finn and Damian’s laughter fell silent the second they saw her, their expressions shifting to a casual, feigned innocence, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet their eyes. She forced a smile, her voice quivering despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

“Sorry, guys. I have to go. Work called me in suddenly,” she stammered, the words stumbling out of her as she tried to keep her tone polite, even gentle. “Please… tell Dom for me, thanks.”

Her words were barely out before she turned on her heel, leaving before they could see the hurt in her eyes, before her composure shattered entirely. She stumbled out into the street, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on her, suffocating her. She walked faster, then faster still, until she was running, her feet pounding against the pavement, each step a desperate attempt to escape the ache tightening around her chest. The city blurred around her, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the voices in her head, the ones telling her she was too much, that she’d ruined things all over again, that she’d never be enough.

When Dominik arrived at work that night, his face lit up as he looked around for her, his heart sinking when Finn casually told him, “Liv had to leave early—something about work calling her in.” Dominik’s smile faded, disappointment settling in his chest as he glanced toward the door, wishing he’d gotten there just a bit sooner. He had no idea she’d been there, waiting for him, only to leave with a heart weighed down by the voices of everyone who’d ever made her feel small, everyone who’d made her feel unworthy.

And miles away, Liv sat alone in her room, staring at the crumpled, tear-stained pages of the song she’d written for him, feeling every note turn to ash in her hands.

Weeks passed, and it felt like their relationship had unraveled, thread by fragile thread. Dominik was left standing in the middle of what had once felt like his whole world, only now it felt strangely empty, as though she had been the light keeping it alive. Liv had stopped coming by the bar, her laughter and presence a hollow absence that seemed to echo louder every day. He noticed the subtle changes, the way she stopped sending those chaotic, sweet messages that once had his phone buzzing at all hours, her words brimming with love and excitement. Now, there was nothing but silence—a void that grew bigger every day.

At first, he tried to tell himself it was nothing. She was busy; work was piling up. But every time he asked, her answer felt rehearsed, hollow. “I’ve gotten more shifts at my job,” she’d say, forcing a smile he’d once thought was real. “I’m sorry.” But he could see the walls she was building, the distance growing between them like a chasm he couldn’t cross, no matter how hard he tried.

She didn’t realize how deeply her withdrawal was wounding him, didn’t see the desperation in his eyes as he tried to hold onto her, hold onto the memories of who they’d been. He spent countless shifts staring at the door, his heart lifting with a fleeting hope every time someone walked in, only to fall again when it wasn’t her. Every night, he’d glance at the empty stage, hoping against hope that he’d look up and see her standing there, guitar in hand, her voice weaving magic that only she could create. But the stage stayed empty, the silence louder than any music.

Dominik missed her with a kind of ache he hadn’t known was possible, a constant, gnawing pain that left him feeling hollowed out. He missed her laugh, the way her voice softened when she looked at him, the way her eyes lit up as if he was the only person in the world who mattered. Now, he could barely recognize her. She was distant, a shadow of herself, her once-bright spirit dulled by something he couldn’t understand, something she wouldn’t let him touch. And every time she pulled away, it felt like she was slipping further and further out of reach, taking pieces of his heart with her.

He tried everything he could think of to hold on, to make her stay, to remind her of the love they’d built together, the bond that had once felt unbreakable. But all he had now were memories—of her smile, her laugh, the warmth of her hand in his. And no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing her, one heartbeat at a time, as she drifted further into a silence he couldn’t break, leaving him waiting, helpless, and brokenhearted.

What haunted Dominik the most was the twisted familiarity of it all, a nightmare he thought he’d already escaped. This was exactly how it had ended with Michelle—the slow withdrawal, the distant looks, the way every small interaction began to feel like a chore for her. With Michelle, he’d watched their love decay, piece by piece, and when he’d finally asked her why, her eyes were cold, her heart already long gone. She’d reduced him to someone disposable, someone unworthy, and he had spent months putting himself back together, rebuilding the pieces she’d broken.

Liv had been his safe haven, the one who’d made him believe that love could be gentle and good. She was nothing like Michelle, and he hated himself for even thinking there could be a comparison. But now, as she pulled away, he felt that same raw, gnawing fear in his chest. She was slipping through his fingers, and he was helpless to stop it.

Liv, the girl who’d always told him that communication was everything, the girl who had once stayed up all night just to talk him through his darkest moments, now wouldn’t even look him in the eyes. She was a stranger, her voice an echo of the girl he’d fallen for, and every time he reached for her, it was like his hand fell through air. She was there but not there, present but distant, leaving him grappling with the emptiness she was creating.

Liv’s mind was a mess of hurt and confusion, but she couldn't find it in herself to tell him why. She knew, logically, that his friends’ words were nothing more than careless remarks, echoes of a past that didn’t matter. But logic had nothing to do with how she felt. Their voices had reawakened old insecurities that she’d buried deep, scars that she’d convinced herself were healed. It was like reopening a wound that had barely begun to scar over—every word, every glance, a reminder of every past hurt. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe they were right, that maybe Dominik would eventually see her the way his friends did, and she couldn’t bear to watch him pull away.

So, she’d decided to be the one to step back, to give him space, to stop being a “burden.” She thought that maybe, if she faded quietly from his life, she could spare them both the inevitable pain, that her absence would make it easier for him. But what she didn’t realize was that her silence was tearing Dominik apart in ways she couldn’t imagine.

Every time he looked at her, all he saw was the beautiful soul he knew, the girl who had brought light into his life. But now that light was dimming, and with every passing day, she became less like the Liv he knew, more like a shadow. Dominik was left haunted, helpless, clutching onto whatever scraps of their love he could still feel, each one slipping from his grasp like grains of sand.

Liv no longer felt worthy of him; she was convinced she’d destroyed everything good between them. There were nights when, restless and aching, she’d walk past his work just to catch a glimpse of him through the large windows of the bar. She’d watch him, hidden in the shadows, her heart clenching painfully as she saw him laughing with his coworkers, his face lit up in a way she could only interpret as relief. In her mind, he looked freer, happier, as if her absence had lifted some weight from his shoulders. She told herself he was better off, that maybe she’d done him a favor by pulling away.

But she couldn’t have been more wrong. What she didn’t see were the nights Dominik spent in quiet agony, her silence gnawing at him, the ghost of her presence haunting every corner of the bar where they’d once shared moments filled with laughter and warmth. Every time the door swung open, he would look up, his heart racing, hoping she would walk in. And every time it wasn’t her, the emptiness inside him deepened, a hollow ache that no amount of work or laughter with friends could fill. Her absence was like a slow poison, eating away at him, piece by piece.

One week before what would have been their anniversary, Liv gathered the courage to step into his world again. She took a deep breath as she walked into the bar, every instinct in her body screaming at her to turn back, to disappear. But she couldn’t stay away. Dominik’s eyes met hers, and in that moment, his heart both ached and leaped, warmth spreading through him despite the hurt. He’d missed her more than he could ever put into words.

“Liv,” he murmured, his voice soft, laced with a pain he couldn’t hide. Her weak smile barely reached her eyes, and she forced herself to hold his gaze for a moment, before her eyes drifted toward his coworkers, Finn and Damian. Their expressions were indifferent, unreadable, but in her mind, their eyes were filled with silent judgment, their stares cutting her down to nothing. She felt as small as ever, a deep shame settling over her like a heavy blanket, and she could feel herself shrinking under their gaze, unable to shake the memory of the words they’d spoken about her.

Her voice was barely a whisper as she greeted Dominik, every part of her wanting to melt into the floor, to disappear from the weight of her own insecurities. She glanced quickly at his coworkers, her heart sinking as they exchanged a look that, in her mind, was full of disdain. She felt foolish, unworthy, as if she didn’t belong in his life, as if her very presence here was an intrusion. And though she couldn’t bring herself to say it, she wanted nothing more than to tell Dominik how sorry she was—for everything, for the pain she’d caused, for being the burden she’d convinced herself she was.

Dominik saw it all in her eyes, the pain she tried so hard to hide, the sadness that lingered behind her fragile smile. He wanted to reach out, to take her hand, to tell her she was everything to him, that he hadn’t felt whole since she’d started pulling away. But she looked so broken, so distant, he didn’t know if he could reach her. And in that silence, as they stood there together yet worlds apart, he felt the weight of his own helplessness, of watching the woman he loved drift further away, just out of his grasp.

Dominik held Liv tightly in his arms, pulling her close, and for a fleeting moment, the world outside faded away. Her arms instinctively wrapped around him, clinging to the warmth that felt so right yet so wrong. Each heartbeat felt like a reminder of how far they had drifted, how she had convinced herself that she was a burden in his life, a source of irritation rather than the joy she longed to be. She could feel the heaviness of those thoughts pressing against her chest, and no matter how much she wanted to revel in the comfort of his embrace, the shadows of her insecurities loomed large.

“I missed you so much, baby,” Dominik murmured against her hair, the familiar warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, and the sweet scent of her vanilla shampoo enveloped him like a comforting hug. It was his favorite scent, one that brought back memories of lazy mornings and stolen kisses, and yet it only deepened the ache in Liv’s heart. She wanted to bask in his affection, to let the moment linger, but the gnawing feeling that she was somehow an imposition held her captive.

“I missed you more,” she replied, her voice catching slightly in her throat, as if the weight of unspoken words threatened to spill over. There were so many things she wanted to say, apologies that clawed at her insides, but they remained stuck, lodged in her heart like stones. Just as she opened her mouth to express the depths of her feelings, Finn’s voice boomed across the bar, shattering the moment.

“Dom, you have customers waiting!”

Dominik pulled away, regret flashing in his eyes, and all she could do was watch as he scurried off, his smile lingering just a moment longer before it vanished. Liv sighed heavily, her gaze dropping to the floor. That nagging sensation of being an annoyance swelled within her. She’d come to perform, to share her heart with the very people who’d supported her, but now it felt like a burden all over again.

As she walked towards the stage, her heart pounded in her chest, each step heavier than the last. She could feel the weight of the bar’s atmosphere pressing down on her, the excited chatter of the customers swirling around her. Pulling out her guitar, she reread the lyrics scrawled on the crumpled paper in her hand. The pink ink shone brightly against the backdrop of her inner turmoil, and she hesitated. What had once been a joyful anthem of love now felt tainted by her doubts.

The regulars greeted her with cheers and applause, and though their enthusiasm warmed her, it did little to quell the storm brewing inside. Dominik, standing off to the side, cast glances her way, a smile tugging at his lips, but the look in his eyes was different—conflicted, concerned. He had missed her, she could see that, but would he understand the turmoil that had driven her to this moment?

When she began to sing, the familiar chords felt foreign under her fingertips, and the words, which once flowed effortlessly, now tasted bitter on her tongue. Instead of the usual love song, a haunting melody poured out, a lament that resonated with her pain. It was raw and unfiltered, an anguished expression of everything she’d been holding back. Her voice cracked with emotion, and she poured her heart into every lyric, each note tinged with sorrow.

The regulars exchanged confused glances, and Dominik’s smile faltered as the realization settled in. This wasn’t the song he’d anticipated; it was a breakup ballad, a painful reflection of their fractured connection. As Liv’s voice trembled, she could see the worry etched on his face, the way his brow furrowed in concern. The truth was spilling out with every note, unraveling in a way she hadn’t intended, and in that moment, she felt both liberated and trapped.

As the final chord faded, she looked out at the sea of faces—some sympathetic, others bewildered—and felt the crushing weight of her choices. She had come to share her love, but instead, she had laid bare her broken heart, and now she feared it would all come crashing down around them. Dominik stood frozen, his heart aching as he watched the girl he loved unravel before him, and he felt helpless, desperately wishing he could pull her back from the edge of her pain.

Liv felt like she was walking through a fog as she left the stage, the applause of the crowd fading into a distant echo that barely registered in her mind. The song had torn her open, exposing wounds she had buried deep, and now she felt raw, like she had just committed the most unforgivable mistake. Her fingers fumbled as she scrambled to collect her things, the guitar slipping slightly from her grasp as she stumbled toward the exit, her heart racing with a mixture of panic and regret. She couldn’t bear to face Dominik, to see the confusion and hurt in his eyes after everything she had just revealed.

But just as she pushed through the door, she felt his grip on her wrist, strong and unyielding. He pulled her to the side, away from the laughter and chatter of the bar, into the cool night air that felt heavy with unspoken words. They stood before the big windows, the glow of the bar’s interior illuminating their faces, casting shadows that mirrored the turmoil in her heart.

“Liv, what’s been happening between us?” His voice was soft but strained, his eyes searching for the answers that eluded her. There was a desperation in his gaze, a deep-seated pain that twisted like a knife in her gut. “I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

She could see it in his eyes—an anguish that mirrored her own—and it made her want to scream, to tell him everything that had been weighing on her heart. But the lump in her throat constricted tighter, suffocating her words before they could escape. She bit the inside of her cheek, willing herself not to cry, forcing her gaze up to the sky, as if the stars could provide her with some clarity.

“Please, talk to me,” he urged, his voice trembling with emotion. “I want to know what’s wrong. I want to be there for you, Liv. I love you so much it makes my heart feel like it’ll explode any moment!” His confession poured out like a flood, raw and unfiltered, and she felt every syllable cut through her like glass. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone ever. You’re the reason I even believe in love, Liv. Please, talk to me.”

His words echoed in her mind, a siren call that both soothed and shattered her. She took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say would shatter the fragile connection they had built. She didn’t want to say it; she had fought against the urge, but she felt as though it was the only way to save him from the burden of her pain.

“Let’s break up.” The words slipped out in a whisper, but they struck like lightning, bright and destructive.

Dominik froze, the world around them falling silent as if time itself had stopped. His expression shifted from confusion to heartbreak, a visceral pain crossing his features as if her words had physically wounded him. “You don’t mean that, Liv,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, filled with disbelief and desperation.

“Look at me and say it.” His tone cracked like ice underfoot, and she felt the weight of his gaze piercing into her, demanding the truth.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she forced herself to meet his gaze. But the moment their eyes locked, the reality of her words sank in, wrapping around her heart like a vice. She could see the flicker of hope dimming in his eyes, the light fading away, and it threatened to tear her apart from the inside out.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Don’t do this, Liv.”

Every part of her wanted to take it back, to tell him that she was scared, that she didn’t know how to navigate the chasm that had opened between them. But the fear of being a burden loomed larger than her love, and she felt like she was losing herself, losing him, losing everything that mattered in the process.

Liv felt as if the air had been sucked from her lungs, her heart a lead weight in her chest, so heavy that speaking was impossible. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them locked in this moment of agony. She loved Dominik fiercely, more than she could ever articulate, and the thought of breaking up felt like plunging a knife into her own heart. But what if her very presence was a burden? What if staying only held him back? She was terrified of being the reason for his unhappiness, of him feeling trapped because of her struggles. She couldn't bear the thought of weighing him down with her insecurities, her darkness.

“It’s over between us, Dominik.” The words slipped from her lips like poison, each syllable tasting bitter and acrid. She forced herself to meet his gaze, her blue eyes clashing with his dark brown ones, which shimmered with confusion and hurt. They were glossy, reflecting the pain she was causing him, and it made her heart ache more than she thought possible.

“Why?” His voice broke, a fragile whisper laced with desperation, and Liv felt her soul shatter at the sound. Tears streamed down his face, each droplet a testament to the love they had shared, to the connection that felt so vital just moments before.

“W-we’re just not compatible,” she stammered, the lie hanging in the air between them like a thick fog. She hated herself for it, every word cutting deeper than any blade. Her mind raced with the thoughts of how different they truly were, but not in the way she was saying. “I’m just too different compared to you. I’m a burden, Dominik.” The confession slipped from her lips, each word dripped with a truth she had been fighting against for so long.

He opened his mouth to argue, to protest that she could never be a burden, that she was everything but. But the pain etched on her face silenced him. The sadness that had twisted in his gut coiled tighter, and he felt powerless, unable to reach her, to pull her back from the brink she had thrown herself over.

“I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you.” Her voice was small, barely a whisper above the night’s breeze, and Dominik’s heart broke further at the sight of her withdrawing from him. “May you find someone who is actually worthy and not so… ruined.” Each word was a dagger, thrusting deeper into the already gaping wound in his heart.

With that, she turned on her heel, running away from him, each step echoing the finality of her decision. Dominik felt as though the ground beneath him had shifted, leaving him unmoored and desperate. He wanted to chase after her, to pull her back into his arms, to tell her that she was everything to him and more. But as she fled, something fell from her backpack, landing softly at his feet.

His gaze dropped to the folded and crumpled paper, the sight making his stomach drop. Picking it up, he unfolded it with trembling hands, dread pooling in his gut. The familiar lyrics spilled across the page, a song meant for their one-year anniversary, each line a reminder of all the love they had shared. But as he flipped it over, the words scrawled on the back shattered him anew: “I’m sorry for being a burden.”

The realization crushed him, the weight of her words suffocating. He staggered back, his heart crumbling under the weight of her despair, the hopelessness she had wrapped around herself like a cloak. He stood alone under the stars, tears streaming down his face, the cool night air doing nothing to soothe the fire of anguish burning in his chest. He cried out into the darkness, a sound of pure heartache, unfiltered and raw, unaware of how Liv had come to such a devastating conclusion about herself.

Every moment they had spent together flashed before his eyes—her laughter, the way she lit up a room, the warmth of her touch, and the way she had made him believe in love again. And now, all he could see was the distance she had created, the walls she had built around herself that he had been powerless to breach. The stars twinkled above, indifferent to the heartache unfolding below, and in that moment, Dominik felt more alone than ever, his heart splintering into countless pieces that seemed impossible to put back together.

Liv, the radiant light who had mended the shattered fragments of Dominik's heart, was now the very reason those pieces were fracturing once more. She was the one who had breathed life back into him, reigniting a belief in love that he thought had been extinguished forever. Her laughter had been a balm to his wounds, her touch a gentle promise that happiness was possible. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, she had become the architect of his heartache, the one to snatch away the fragile hope she had painstakingly built.

Each moment they had shared—the whispered secrets, the tender embraces, the shared dreams—now felt tainted by the bitter reality of her departure. Dominik could hardly reconcile the image of her bright smile with the pain radiating from his chest, the hollow echo of her absence resonating in every corner of his being. It was as if she had not only taken love from him but had also stripped away the very essence of joy, leaving behind a chasm that seemed insurmountable.

His heart ached with the weight of her choice, the knowledge that the person who had once illuminated his world had now cast him into shadow. He could still feel the warmth of her presence lingering in the air, yet it was laced with the coldness of her words—her confessions that she felt unworthy, that she was a burden. Every syllable she had spoken echoed in his mind, a haunting reminder of the love that had transformed into despair.

In those final moments, as she turned to walk away, it was as if a part of his soul had been wrenched from him, leaving an emptiness so profound that it threatened to swallow him whole. Liv, who had healed him, had unwittingly become the knife that carved through his heart once again. And now, as he stood under the vast expanse of the night sky, the stars looked down upon him with indifference, mocking him for believing that love could ever truly be his again.

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notable-phlyarologist · 10 months ago

Text

i did an image search of 'larry pokemon' and am laughing my ass off imagining him finding out about all these people drawing reserved, tasteful art of him

#pokemon scarlet and violet #larry pokemon #larry stares at you #for a full fifty-three seconds #bags under his eyes deepening as he stares #before he groans and asks if this is billae #“you're asking if me showing you fanart of yourself is billable?”#larry smirks in that he doesn't do anything #“technically that question largely pertains to whether the task at hand qualifies for a classification of--”#for a full fifteen minutes at you #before he decides yes this is billable #and sends the forms straight to the League #who pays it #of course

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago

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What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

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pickingupmymercedes · 4 months ago

Text

Warm enough - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +3K

a/n: The first draft to this sfw blurb, only this is 3k of pure smut.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The sun had just started to set when Lewis and Y/n arrived at the tiny cabin nestled in the heart of the Colorado forest.

The hike up there had been a rather long but peaceful afternoon, just the sounds of nature and their occasional laughter as they went through the paths.

They were greeted by the rustic charm of the wooden structure. It was small, really small, but cozy and exactly what they needed for their night away from the relentless scrutiny of their daily lives.

Lewis carried their backpacks inside while Y/n stood in the doorway, taking in the simplicity of their temporary home. The interior was open, with no walls, whatsoever, separating the different spaces. Kitchen, living area, and bedroom all flowed into one another, and in a corner, a showerhead jutted out from the wall, pointing what was supposed to be the bathroom.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the lack of privacy. "Lewis" she called out, her voice tinged with a mix of amusement and annoyance "did you know there were no doors in this place?"

Lewis, setting their bags down near the sofa, turned to her with a sheepish grin. "I might have known" he admitted with a smirk, scratching the back of his head. "I thought it could be romantic? "

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah…except if we want to, the idea of getting cold for a few droplets of water isn't exactly the most appealing."

Lewis came closer to Y/n and pulled her by the waits, his eyes litting up as he gazed at her amused features. "Why don't we light up the fireplace? It'll warm up the whole place, and then we can shower without freezing."

Y/n shook her head and chuckled at him. "You had this planned all along, didn’t you?!" to which he gave her a peck on the lips before heading to the stack of logs on the corner.

Within minutes, Lewis had a fire crackling in the stone hearth, the warmth slowly spreading throughout the room. The glow from the flames casting a soft, amber light, giving the place a real fairytale atmosphere.

Y/n stood near the shower, testing the water with her hand. "It’s warm enough" she mocked as she turned to face Lewis, who was now sitting on the worn leather sofa, his eyes following her every move.

She began to undress, closing her eyes and knowing full well the soft light from the fire highlighted the curves of her body. Her every move casting long shadow to the walls.

She stripped down to her sports bra and panties, feeling the warmth of the room against her skin. When she looked up and glanced over at Lewis his eyes were dark with desire, a telltale tent in his pants.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Enjoying the view, baby?" she teased, slowly walking towards him.

Lewis swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving her. "You have no idea" he replied, his voice a low growl.

Y/n stopped just by his opened legs, her presence commanding his stare.

Lewis's hand instinctively found the curves of her body, his fingers tracing the lines of her hips. She cradled his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss him, their lips meeting slowly, his tongue asking for permission.

As the kiss deepened, Lewis's hands roamed over her body, finding her bum and squeezing gently before attaching his finger to the strings of her lingerie and pulling it down.

Y/n broke the kiss, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Someone's getting handsy" she murmured, stepping out of fabric pooled at her feet.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes filled with heat. "Can't help it" he said, his voice husky.

Y/n knelt down in front of him, her fingers teasing the skin of his abs and the fabric of his pants. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I could get you off through these" she joked, "but I'm pretty sure you didn’t bring anymore pants"

Lewis laughed, the sound deep and rich, but still lifted his hips to remove his pants and boxers in one swift motion. His semi-hard length springing free, hitting his abs.

Y/n's breath hitched at the sight, the engorged tip, the bulging veins, the girth on its length, how it twitched when she breathed near the skin and how his balls hanged just enough to make it deliciously desirable. The scene always had the same effect on her.

She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Ready, big guy?" she murmured, her hands moving to grasp his length gently. She stroked him slowly, her fingers dancing along his skin as he murmured his response with a nod.

Lewis groaned, his head falling back against the sofa. The sensation of her touch making him barely strong enough to contain himself. Y/n’s touch teasing and almost not enough.

She took her time, enjoying the way his body responded to her.

"Y/n" Lewis breathed; his voice strained with need. "Babe, please..."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire and mischief. "Please what?" she teased, her fingers still moving in slow, deliberate strokes that would go from the base to the tip of his length, her hands not closing around his girth now he was fully hard.

One of Lewis's hands clenched at her arm, his body almost trembling. "Please, don't tease" he begged, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/n's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his tip. "As you wish" she murmured, taking him into her mouth.

The heat of her mouth was almost too much to bear, and Lewis's hands found their way to her hair, his fingers tangling to find her roots. He guided her movements, his body shuddering the stroke of her tongue and the gentle suction of her lips.

Y/n moved slowly, each motion deliberately thought to drive him wild.

She took him deeper, her mouth working him with a rhythm that made him whimper. Lewis's moans filled the cabin, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the soft sounds of the forest outside.

He was close, so close, and he could feel the tension building in his body. "Babe" he gasped; his tone almost desperate. "I'm going to..."

She pulled back slightly, her hand replacing her mouth as she speeded the strokes. "Let go, Lew" she whispered, batting her eyelids as she looked up at him trying to regain a bit of control.

With a final, shuddering breath, Lewis's body tensed, and he spilled over her hand, his release overwhelming. Y/n continued her movements, milking every last drop from his body as he trembled beneath her touch.

When he finally looked back down, his eyes were filled with a soft longing. "What the hell do I do with you?!" he murmured; his voice hoarse.

Y/n smiled up at him, her hand gently massaging his balls now. "Anything you want" she replied, her tone playful. As she pulled away, her hand glistening from him, she gave him a playful wink. "I think it's time for that shower now" she said, glancing towards the open showerhead in the corner.

Lewis reached out, his strong hands wrapping around her waist to pull her back to him. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, "Not quite yet, miss. We still need to get that pussy wet before cleaning it up."

Before she could protest, Lewis lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the bed, the old springs creaking under their combined weight. He had laid her down gently, his eyes dark as he positioned himself between her legs.

Lewis took his time, his hands caressing her thighs before spreading them wide. "You're so beautiful" he murmured; his voice thick with emotion. "I can't get enough of you."

Y/n responded with a soft moan, her back arching slightly as his mouth descended on her leaving a trail of wet kisses behind.

The first touch of his tongue against her folds made her tremble. Lewis's hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he expertly teased her further.

"God, that feels so good." she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he licked and sucked at her most sensitive spots.

Lewis hummed in response, the vibrations adding a sensation that had her writhing beneath him. He alternated between gentle licks and firmer sucks, his tongue dancing over her clit in circular moves. Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his face.

"Please" she begged, her voice trembling with need. "Don't stop, Lewis."

He smirked as he kept his mouth working her relentlessly, his fingers finally joining in to tease her entrance. With a final suck on her clit, Y/n's body tensed and she cried out, her first orgasm washing over her as Lewis tried to hold her body in place.

Lewis soothed her skin with kisses on her inner thigh, and when she laid back down with a sigh, he began kissing his way back up her body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Ready, babe?" he asked, his voice low and filled with promise.

Y/n nodded; her eyes glazed with lust. "Yeah" she breathed, still trying to process the weight of his dick resting on her thighs.

Lewis positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her wetness. "Look at me," he commanded softly. Y/n's eyes locked onto his, the feather like touch of his finger to her cheek electric.

With a slow, but determined thrust Lewis ripped her, filling her completely. They both groaned, their bodies reacting to a dance they knew all too well. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being inside her, before pulling back and thrusting in again, a bit faster this time, picking up speed as he adjusted his pace.

"You feel amazing" Lewis groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he held his rhythm. "So tight, so perfect."

Y/n's nails dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "Right there" she gasped, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation as he angled his thrusts so he knew he had her writhing. "Lew…don't stop."

He didn't. His thrusts grew more powerful, each one hitting a different spot to drive her wild. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the cabin, building on the symphony of their moans and the crackling of the fire.

Lewis leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as he continued to pound into her. "You drive me crazy, love" he murmured against her mouth.

"Yeah?! Then, show me" Y/n teased back, her voice a breathless whisper as he locked his eyes on hers, his arms coming to either of her sides to help him balance himself as he picked up speed and concentrated his thrust to an angle that always drove her wild.

Lewis's hands roamed over her body, his touch both possessive and tender. He could feel her tightening around him, her moans becoming more urgent, each thrust pushing Y/n closer to her second orgasm.

"That's it, baby" Lewis encouraged, his own voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Come for me."

Even if his pounding didn’t stop, Y/n's body convulsed around him, her walls fluttering and her high ripping through her with even more intensity than the first time. She cried out his name in his ears, her nails raking down his back as he held her tight to allow him to prolong the orgasm with his thrusts.

"One more," he growled, his eyes locked on hers when she could finally focus back on his face, inches from her "Give me one more, baby." He kept thrusting; his pace relentless as he chased his own release.

Y/n could barely think at this point, her nods the only coherent things coming from her. Her body was on fire, her hands gripping his shoulders as she braced herself for the lasts, and often harder, of his movements.

Lewis's thrusts became frenzied, his breathing ragged as he pushed them both to the brink. "Y/n..." he groaned, his voice breaking as he tried to retain some control over his angles.

With a swift motion, Lewis pulled out and repositioned himself, gently turning her onto her side, closing her legs while lifting one just enough to give him better access as he aligned himself behind her.

The new angle made her gasp as he entered her again, his thrusts way deeper now.

"Better like this?" he asked, his voice a low growl in her ear.

"Yeah" she breathed, her body contorting on the bed. "Just like that."

Lewis's hands gripped her hips, his thrusts steady as he drove into her. Y/n's moans grew louder with each thrust. She could feel another orgasm building, her control over her body already faltering away.

"This pussy is so perfect for me" Lewis groaned, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Lew" she whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets as she felt herself nearing the edge again.

"I want to feel you again." he whispered; his voice filled with urgency.

Y/n's body tensed but this time she couldn’t even let out a sound, her third orgasm hitting her so much stronger than the last two. This time Lewis stopped and held still, really feeling her walls gripping him harder than they’d normally do. He watched her, mesmerized by the sight of her coming undone beneath him, not even able to moan.

She eventually reached for Lewis's hand, her fingers intertwining with his, eyes still shut tight as she pulled him closer and begged "Fill me" her voice a blend of urgency and tenderness.

He repositioned both of them again, standing up fully beside the bed and pulling her with him. The new position allowing him to control better his thrusts, hammering into her in slow and powerful movements.

Her body was completely open and vulnerable to him. Her moans mingled with the sound of his breathing faltering. She could feel him getting closer, his grip on her hips tightening as he neared his release.

"Hey" she urged him to look at her, her hands gripping at his on her waist for support. "Don’t hold back. Let it go"

After a couple angled thrusts, that had her fight for air, Lewis let out a guttural groan, his release crashing over him as he spilled inside her. He held her tightly, their bodies trembling together as kept slowly pumping into her for a few more seconds.

When the last tremors of his orgasm subsided, he collapsed onto her body. Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to Y/n's forehead, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. "I love you" he whispered; his voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you " Y/n replied, her voice soft as she lovingly held his stare before he laid his head on her chest and she circled his scalp with the tip of her nails.

After a few moments, Lewis looked back up at her, a tired but satisfied smile. "I think now we can have that shower."

Y/n chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it’s definitely warm enough now"

As they dried off and wrapped themselves in their soft sweats, they settled back on the sofa, the fire still providing a gentle glow, although not nearly as strong as before. Y/N, nestled against Lewis’s chest let out a contented sigh.

Forty-eight hours of no phones, no internet, no outside world distractions – it had been a strange, yet surprisingly liberating, experience so far.

"Can you believe it?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It feels like an eternity since we've had time like this."

Lewis, his chin resting on her head, chuckled softly. "Agreed. Just… us."

Y/N hummed in agreement, shifting slightly to get a better view of the dying flames. "Although I wish I had my phone to get a picture of that elk herd, did you notice? And that waterfall we stumbled upon? It was like something out of a painting."

She launched into a detailed description of their day's hike, pointing out landmarks on the mental map she'd constructed in her head. Lewis listened patiently, a smile playing on his lips.

She’d always get talkative after sex. Her pillow talks some of his favorites moments.

He knew most of the details already – they'd spent the entire day together, after all – but it was the way her eyes lit up while she recounted the adventure that captivated him that night.

As she spoke, Lewis noticed her hands tucked away under her arms, a telltale sign she was starting to feel cold. He reached out, intertwining their fingers without saying a thing.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting hoot shattered the peaceful silence. Y/N flinched, her eyes widening comically.

"Can you hear the owls?" she whispered; her voice tinged with a hint of fear.

Lewis chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. "Yeah, but I'm more interested in the sound of your voice" he teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

His words sent a blush creeping up Y/N's cheeks. She opened her mouth to retort, but a loud, guttural hoot from outside the cabin cut her off. Y/N flinched, a startled squeak escaping her lips.

Lewis chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. "Scared you there, did it?"

Y/N covered her face with her free hand, a sheepish grin peeking through. "A bit. That… that sounded like a pterodactyl!"

Lewis reached out and pulled her hand away from her face, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Pterodactyls? Really, Y/N?"

She shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Hey, I don't know what they sound like!"

He pulled her body closer, his warmth embracing her. "It's okay," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "They're just owls. They're more interested in catching mice than snacking on hikers."

Y/N sighed contentedly, her eyelids growing heavy the warmer she got.

As her voice trailed off into a comfortable silence, Lewis noticed her breathing slow and even. He looked down to see her fast asleep, her head resting peacefully on his chest. Without a second thought, he tucked both her hands and his into her sweater, enveloping them in warmth.

Lewis couldn't help but smile as he marveled at how quickly she'd adapted to the digital detox he had suggested merely a month prior. Her voice replacing the endless stream of notifications that usually dominated their lives.

He traced a gentle finger along her cheek, enjoying the soft texture of her skin as he took in the moment. Her figure completely at ease as she used him as her personal pillow and warmer, the fireplace to their cabin a reminder they didn’t need much when they got each other.

"See" he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Told you we’d have a good time up here."

He leaned in, his lips brushing the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispered, the words meant for both the owls and the woman who had stolen his heart. They weren't just words of gratitude for the weekend though; they were a heartfelt confession for the way she grounded him, for the way she brought a sense of serenity into his otherwise chaotic world.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis hamilton smut #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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tojisun · 1 year ago

Text

“shopping for your brother?”

you trip at hearing the question, your lips parting in surprise as you whip to look at the clerk. she blinks at you amidst her own shock before turning her eyes down to your hands where a faux fatigued boonie dangled between your pinched fingers.

you watch as she glances back at you before shooting a look towards simon, having seen the two of you walk in together. he’s standing on the far side of the shop, attracting electric looks from everyone – you couldn’t even blame them because even your mouth is watering at the sight that he makes.

still, the insinuation that you couldn’t possibly be simon’s partner stung. forgotten insecurities are rising once again, rippling against the quiet elation that once filled you up.

“um,” you begin, clearing your throat at hearing your voice brokenly taper off. “it’s for, uh, my boyfriend.”

the clerk stares at you for a second before her cheeks fill up with red, the blush descending from her forehead to her neck.

“bloody hell,” she utters. “i’m so sorry.” she scurries away after that, disappearing into their storage room where you think she’s going to stay until you and simon leave.

and you’re willing to do just that. you drop the boonie and walk towards simon, trying to ignore the bitterness that is stinging in the back of your throat. simon uncrosses his arms – tattoos and muscles obscured by the expanse of paper bags that he insisted he pay and carry for you – and holds his hand out for you to take. you look at it, hesitating, before you shake your head and walk out on your own.

you can’t hear him follow you but you know he is there, quiet in his assessment of both the surroundings and of what happened to make you upset. you blink the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, trying to hide your distress as much as you can.

but it is futile because the next thing you know, simon’s pulling you away from the busy stretch of the mall and into an obscured exit point with dim lights and narrow halls. he drops the bags onto the floor before tugging on your wrists with firm gentleness.

“what happened?” his voice is gruff but worry is evident in his tone.

“it’s nothing,” you say, sniffing. “just tired.”

he hums, and you know that he doesn’t believe you. you sigh, turning away from him as you mutter, “i dunno why you like me.” you chew on your words, hoping he wouldn’t understand. but you feel him stiffen before you, his back tensing like he is preparing for a fight.

you know he is angry – not at you. never at you. and seeing his protective nature spark up just at the mere mention of your insecurity makes your lips wobble, your eyes blurring as tears pool once again.

you hear him let out a sharp curse before he’s pulling you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin and engulfing you in his arms. he’s so big and all muscles, but he’s so, so warm. you nuzzle your cheek on his chest, letting out a content sigh when you feel his lips press on the top of your head.

“you know that i love you, don’t you, sweetheart?” simon asks, thinly-veiled desperation curling at his words.

you nod, shy all of sudden. he clicks his tongue.

“use y’r words, love.”

you peer up at him, your pouty lips quivering into a small smile at meeting his intense gaze, his beautiful eyes tracking the details of your face like he can’t get enough of you.

you see simon’s reverence and feel your heart melt.

“yeah,” you finally reply, swiping your tongue on your chapped lips and feeling your cheeks warm up at the way his eyes zeroed in on the action. “i know it well, si.”

he grunts before he is bending forward to press his lips over yours, your eyes fluttering close to savour the kiss. he is gentle as he guides you through it, prompting you to part your lips just enough for him to deepen the kiss – tongues swiping against each other and soft moans being engulfed by both of you.

you are panting by the time he pulls away, his eyes dilated in pleasure. you wonder if you look just as debauched, just as desperate for more.

“wanna take this somewhere else?” simon murmurs, just the sound of his grave voice already making you tremble.

you scramble to say yes, your words lilting together in your excitement. simon chuckles and presses a quick kiss on your lips before he’s picking up the shopping bags and herding the two of you out.

#suns.f #a little soft drabble bc well im pining and projecting and i cant even lie that im in luv w this man #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #suns

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enha-stars · 9 months ago

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✧ let me take care of you

pairing: soft!heeseung x reader (fluff, smut)

summary: you have a bad day and all heeseung wants is to take care of you, and well, you let him

warnings: crying, minor angst if you squint, swearing, fingering (f), kissing, sex, mdni

you gripped your keys, staring at the front door of your apartment. you don’t really remember how you got home or the elevator ride up to your home but none of that mattered. you were finally home and exhausted.

you were having a bad day. a really, really bad day. everything had been going wrong the moment you entered the office in the morning and you had enough. you had cried before leaving and were on the verge of tears now.

quietly, you inserted the key in the lock and turned, that small satisfying click was music to your ears. slowly, you pushed open the door and made your way inside, dropping your bag at the door. you sighed in relief and kicked off your shoes.

your body ached and your head throbbed, and you wanted to burn the clothes you were wearing. someone had spilled warm coffee all over your lap and you didn’t have any extra clothes so you had spent the whole day in sticky, coffee stained pants.

silently, you shuffled to the sofa and sank down. you just sat there, your back pressed into the soft back as you stared at the wall. you were so tired, so exhausted. you wanted to call out to your boyfriend, knowing he was most likely in your joined bedroom but your lips wobbled so you said nothing.

heeseung stopped typing when he heard the front door open and shut his laptop at the silence that followed. he got off the bed, throwing his laptop on the table as he made his way to the family room. you should be home by now.

heeseung paused at the entrance, staring at your unmoving body. his eyebrows furrowed as he assessed the situation. he glanced at the door and found your bag and shoes discarded on the side. he glanced back at you; at your tear-stained face and dark under eyes and he knew.

sighing, heeseung walked to you. he hated it when you had a bad day. “love, you’re home.” his heart broke when you simply looked up at him, eyes wide with unshed tears. he dropped to his knees in front of you, a frown on his lips. he rested his hands on your thighs and pressed his chest against your knees.

“tough day, baby?” his frown deepened when you nodded. you weren’t often like this. usually, when you had bad days, you were quiet and slightly angry. but heeseung knew it must have been a very bad day if you couldn’t even speak about it.

heeseung nodded and stood up. without saying anything, he slipped an arm under your knees and behind your back and lifted you up, deciding that you’d be more comfortable in your bed. you shut your eyes as you pressed your face into his neck.

all you wanted was heeseung to lay with you; to hold you until you couldn’t remember today.

heeseung mumbled sweet nothings to you as he walked down the hall and gently kicked the bedroom door open. he sat you down on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i got you, baby.” you blinked up at him as he brushed your hair from your face. you watched as he walked to the bathroom and filled the tumb with warm water before grabbing one of his bigger shirts from his drawer and walking over to you.

he tapped your thigh and you spread your legs, letting him stand in between them. with gentle, soft hands, he took out your claw clip and massaged your head before setting the clip on top of his laptop. then, he began unbuttoning your blouse. eyes focused solely on the buttons. once he slipped the shirt off your shoulders, he unclasped your bra. he didn’t pay attention to how your nipples perked up in the cold air.

he stepped back and unbuttoned your pants. you winced when he pulled them down, the fabric rubbing against your burn. heeseung eyes widened at your painful gasp and he dropped his gaze to the redness on your thighs.

immediately, he dropped to his knees, his face hovering near the burn as his fingers twitched at your sides. “baby, what is this?” he glanced up at you, eyes filled with concern. “what happened?”

you looked down at the burn, wishing you had done something at the time to prevent the redness. “someone spilled their coffee all over my lap.” your voice was quiet, hoarse. your eyes connected with heeseung’s wide ones and you bit your bottom lip, trying not to cry.

heeseung’s heart broke even further as he frowned. he was angry, angry at the fucker who spilled their coffee on you but he was more concerned about your pain. he pressed a soft kiss to your knee before he linked his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear and pulled down, careful to raise the fabric so it wouldn’t brush against your skin.

once you were naked, heeseung stood and picked you up once again, taking you to the bathroom. part of you wanted to be embarrassed. you wanted to be able to walk on your own, to use your words, but a bigger, tired part of you just wanted to be taken care of like this.

heeseung sat down on the edge of the tub, holding you in his lap as he touched the water. he poured some of your favourite scented soap in the water before gently putting you in the water. you winced when the warm water touched your burns but soon sighed in relief. your head fell back as your muscles relaxed in the water, having been tense the whole day.

heeseung sat at the ledge, watching you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. you opened your eyes and looked back at him, smiling at him for the first time since you’ve been home. you wanted to ask him to join you but he was quicker. he quickly took off his pajama bottoms, leaving him in his boxers.

“lift your head, baby.” you lifted your head and moved your body as he stepped into the tub and sat at the ledge where you had been resting your head.

now, heeseung was sitting outside of the tub and you sat in between his legs, inside the tub. you laid your head back into his lap and sighed at the closeness. you closed your eyes and heeseung cupped water in his hands and wet your hair. you only opened them when he began to gently massage your head with soap.

unconsciously, heeseung began humming as he shampooed your hair. you focused on his soft voice, unable to control the tears that escaped your eyes.

once heeseung was done combing his fingers through your hair, he filled the bucket next to him with warm water and rinsed your hair, scrubbing all the soap out. he didn’t notice your tears, his own humming drowning out your rapid breathing.

once your hair had been rinsed, he laid your head on his lap and frowned at your pout. gently, he swiped his thumb under your eyes and pursed his lips at the tears. as much as he wanted to distract you from crying, he knew you needed this. so, as you cry, he massages your shoulders and neck. his hands working at the knots in your muscles, hating how tense they are.

after a few minutes, your body runs out of tears and you focus on heeseung’s hands. they’re soft yet firm as they press down on your skin. you let out a quiet moan when he pressed down on the space between your neck and shoulder and he smiles, glad to release some of your tension.

heeseung wiggles his toes in the water when the water cools down, no longer a comfortable temperature. he gently lifts your head as he steps out of the tub, grabbing two towels. without him asking, you slowly stand up. he smiles at you as he offers you his hand. you grab it and step out of the tub, right onto the grey mat.

although heeseung knows you’re fully capable of it, he uses the towel to dry your body. he dries your arms before traveling down your body, gently patting your thighs before rubbing down your shins. at the sight, you can feel warmth spread through your core. then, he wraps your body in the towel. he grabs the other towel and dries your hair before wrapping your hair in the towel.

you smile at him and he beams down at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. you reach over and hand him another towel and his smile turns bashful as you watch him dry his legs. heeseung grabs your hand and motions you out of the bedroom. you follow him and sit on the bed, watching as he takes off his underwear. at the sight of his cock, your mouth waters. you press your thighs together, ignoring the slight pain. heeseung doesn’t notice as he pulls his pajama bottoms back on.

you watch him with dark eyes as he walks to you. he unwraps the towel from your hair, massaging your scalp with it a few times before laying it beside you.

“lift your arms, baby.” you do as he says and he slips his shirt on you, pulling off the towel. he leaves you on the bed as he hangs the towels in the bathroom and puts your clothes in the laundry.

when he’s back, you can only stare at him. your eyes glance at the clock and they widen. “seung,” you whisper. heeseung can’t even explain how good it feels to have you say his name. his heart squeezes in his chest. he steps closer to you. “what about the movie? we should get going.”

you and heeseung were supposed to go out today. a new studio ghibli movie had come out and heeseung had really wanted to see it. although you were in no mood, you would go if he wanted too.

heeseung blinks at you before he cups your face with his hand, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. “fuck the movie, baby. you’re way more important.” you try your best not to let your eyes water at his words. “tell me what i can do. do you want to sleep? or shall i make you something to eat?”

your frown deepens and heeseung wants to kiss you so badly but he just continues pressing down on your bottom lip. “but–” heeseung shakes his head, knowing what you were going to say. you say it anyways. “you really wanted to watch the movie.”

heeseung sighs before he crouches down, matching eye level with you. he uses his other hand to cup the other side of your face before he presses his forehead against yours. “you are more important than some movie, my love. how can i watch a movie when you’re upset?” he kisses your nose. “all i want is to make you feel better. offer you comfort any way i can.”

you shut your eyes at his words, unable to handle the tensity of his gaze; filled with so much love and affection. you nodded once before you opened your eyes. “will you lay with me? i just want you to hold me.”

heeseung smiles before nodding. he stands up and as you crawl further into bed, he pulls off his shirt. he knows that you always prefer laying with him while he’s shirtless because he runs extremely warm. you find comfort in his warmth; skin to skin in a non-intimate way.

heeseung crawls into bed and gathers you in his arms. you lay facing him as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in. you lay one hand flat on his chest while the other is thrown over his waist. his legs tangle with yours and you nuzzle your face into his neck.

he rubs your back soothingly as you breathe him in. “do you wanna talk about it, baby?”

you don’t say anything as you think about it. you didn’t really want to talk about it, but communication was important to both of you. you knew that if you were in heeseung’s position, you would want him to say something.

“i’m just so fucking exhausted, hee.” you mumble against his chest. he kisses your forehead as he listens, wishing he could remove everything unpleasant from your life. “nothing went right today and it was all too much.” his fingers traced small patterns on your back.

“i’m sorry, love,” he whispers. his breath tickles your ears and you sigh into him, clinging. “that sounds awful.” heeseung genuinely meant it. it took a lot to make you upset, being someone who always looked at the positive side of things. he wanted to squeeze all the negativity out of your body, willing to carry it all himself if it meant you would smile up at him.

you nodded as you shut your eyes. this was all you thought about all day; laying in bed with him, his strong arms around you. knowing he would take care of you, even if you didn’t deserve it. you loved him so much.

you and heeseung lay together, your eyes shut as he rubs your back, whispering sweet words of encouragement every now and then. you want to fall asleep, but you can’t. even though you’re exhausted, you can’t seem to drift off.

frustrated, you shift your hips, trying to find a better position and whimper when heeseung’s bulge rubs against your bare pussy. heeseung’s eyes fly open and he tightens his hold on you.

“baby?” he looks down at you and his eyes widen when he stares down at your watery, tired eyes. “what is it, love?”

you rub your pussy against his clothed dick and whimper at the feeling. heeseung watches as you squeeze your eyes close at the feeling and suddenly, he understands. when heeseung has a bad day, nothing makes him feel better than being inside you. he now knows that you’re the same.

he kisses your forehead and cheek before he grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. “do you want me, baby?” he nudges your nose with his. “hm? want me to fill you up?” he should have realized that this is what you wanted. your nails were digging into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be.

you nodded, eyes wide. heeseung usually liked to tease you, but right now, all he wanted was to make you feel better. nothing was more important than taking care of you. “please,” you say.

heeseung smiles and kisses you, lips pressing against yours messily. as he kisses you, his hand travel down your waist, mindful of your burns. he slips his hand in between your legs, his thumb pressing against your pussy. “fuck, baby,” he whispered against your mouth. “you’re already so wet.” he rubs your pussy with his thumb before pressing down on your clit, swallowing your moan.

he coats his fingers in your slick before slipping a finger in, his rough skin caressing your gummy walls, reaching deep within you. when you moan, heeseung begins kissing your neck, sucking and nibbling. you press your forehead against his neck, sucking on his adam’s apple when he slips another finger in, and then another. the three fingers inside you worked fast, curling and pumping.

heeseung kisses you everywhere he can. he presses open mouth kisses to your neck and chin and then kissed your lips, tongues pressed together. your body began to shake and he knew you were close. you were squeezing around his fingers and he rubbed your clit with his thumb.

“that’s it, love,” he encouraged. he kissed your forehead and then your eyelids. “cum for me. let go, baby.” you moaned out his name as you cummed, nails digging into his back as he made you ride out your orgasm on his fingers.

he whispered quiet praises in your ear, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “such a good girl, that’s it.” once you began panting, he slowly removed his fingers and brought them to his lips.

you watched with blurry eyes as he licked his fingers clean, sucking off all your juices as he stared at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “you did amazing, baby.”

at this, you smiled and heeseung felt like the luckiest man in the world. his own eyes crinkled and he kissed you, ignoring your whimper as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

kissing you hungrily, heeseung used one hand to pull his pajamas down. you felt his tip graze your pussy and you jerked into him, sensitive. he slid himself against your pussy, using your juices to wet his dick.

“i got you, baby.” he whispered into your mouth. he lines himself with your entrance and slowly pushes in, your slick making it easy for him. you silently gasp as he stretches you, welcoming the feeling. heeseung whimpers as your pussy sucks him in and he moans into your neck when he bottoms out.

that’s how you lay for a few minutes; holding each other as his dick fills you up, connecting you both at the most intimate level. you kiss heeseung’s neck, needing more friction. “move, hee. please.”

heeseung nods, eyes squeezed shut as he slowly begins rocking his hips back and forth. you both moan as he fucks you slowly, filling you up just the way you wanted. once he’s fully in you, you squeeze around his dick and he whimpers, eyes opening. you grind on his dick and he can only bite his lip as you use his dick for your own pleasure.

and he lets you. he doesn’t move as you continue to grind on his cock, wanting your pleasure to come first. he holds himself back when you slowly start to move on his dick, knowing that it belonged to you more than it did him.

the sight of you trying to get yourself off on his cock is enough to push him over the edge. he’s sweaty and his eyes are blurry, and he is so in love with you. he hopes you never have a bad day again but if you do, he wants you to use him like this. when you open your eyes and look at him, he can’t help but kiss you.

“please, seungie.” you beg. “make me cum.”

hearing your words, heeseung loses control. he begins rocking his hips back and forth, pulling out completely and then pushing in, deep enough to feel himself in your stomach. you’re whimpering and gasping, and then you’re squeezing around him and he’s unraveling.

“i’m cumming,” you sniffle. “seung, please. i’m–”

heeseung slams into you, fucking you harder. he presses his face against your head as he pants. “cum for me, love.” his cock twitches and when he feels your cum soak his dick, he lets go. he continues fucking you as he cums, unable to stop.

you press yourself further into him, body sweaty and warm as his dick fucks his cum into you. you pull at his hair when you begin to feel overstimulated, but heeseung doesn’t stop. he rocks his hips into you until you’re both on the verge of tears.

once he’s stopped cumming, his muscles relax and he holds you tighter, kissing your forehead. he tries to move but you’ve caged him with your arms and legs. you look up at him and smile so widely he swears he could cum again.

“stay in me, seung. just wanna feel you.”

heeseung presses his lips against yours softly and keeps his dick in you. “whatever you want, princess.” he wanted to clean you up, wipe the stickiness from your legs and put some ointment on your thighs, but he would have to wait. right now, you needed him inside you, beside you.

you slightly adjust yourself and rest your head in his neck as he rests his on your head. he rubs your back, tracing small hearts on your shoulder until he hears your soft snores.

he smiles at you before kissing your forehead, tightening his hold on you before he drifts off to sleep. his cock still in you, keeping you warm and full and happy.

a/n: i love soft hee so much. there isn't enough of him on here. also, this one is for @karinasbaby because she is everything to me and appreicates soft hee as much as i do. also this was meant to be short but i got carried away 🤭

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novemberheart · 2 months ago

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{overview} John and Johnny leave……does Simon step up to the plate?

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141

Chapter 15 <- Chapter 16 -> Chapter 17

You had spent that whole night wrapped around Johnny, squeezing him like an anaconda.

“I’ll miss you a lot Mac,” you mumbled pitfully against his neck. It was time for him and John to leave, the sun not due to come up for another four hours.

“I’ll miss you too, peaches,” he murmured back, his grip on you crushing. “You'll be a good girl while we're away, yes?” He smiled against your head. John cleared his throat and you took the hint to untangle yourself. You kicked your legs a silent request to put you back on the ground. Johnny inhaled your scent, suddenly pressing kisses all over your face making you chuckle.

John held his arms out to you and he quickly lifted you up just like Johnny had done. His lips pressed firmly against your neck, vibrating against you as he spoke.

“We’ll call you when we can. When we can't we’ll make sure Laswell keeps you updated,” he assured.

“Be safe,” you whined, pressing yourself deeper into his shoulder. He held you there for a moment- this being harder than he had imagined.

“We’ll be back soon, pretty girl,” he pressed a kiss against your temple, pulling away to plant another one on your lips. He pulled away rather quickly, but you gripped his face pulling him back. “Now I really have to get back soon,” he chuckled, giving your temple one last peck.

They grabbed their bags by the front door, eyeing the three they were going to leave behind.

“Come on, lovie. Let's get you back to bed.” Kyle yawned, leading you to his room. You paused looking at Johnny's shut door. “We can sleep in there tonight. If you'd like,” Kyle offered softly, opening the door.

“He won't mind?” you asked hesitantly.

“You kidding me? Nothing would be better than comin’ home to a bed smellin’ like you,” Kyle smiled, clicking his tongue.

The next day was easier. You still had Kyle and Simon to rely on. Simon stepped up to double alpha duties, filling in for moments you usually shared with John. You were growing re-fond of Simon very fast. He was a complex creature. Grunting after you say something, only for him to pet the top of your head when he could tell you were in your thoughts too much.

Kate texted you that night.

Hi, love. The boys are fine. They just landed where they needed to be. They’ll try to call you later!

You smiled at the words. You missed them- but you weren't worried about them yet.

The next day was much harder. Knowing Kyle and Simon were leaving the next day.

“Simon?” you began softly. Simon had a mini zen garden in his office- a gag gift from Johnny. You enjoyed it though, making patterns in the sand. He grunted.

“I'm going to miss you while you're away, you know,” you said softly. You didn't expect him to say anything back, but you just had to tell him. The urge sitting under your skin like a ticking time bomb. If you didn't act on it you would throw yourself at him, gripping onto his shirt like your life depended.

“You’ll be fine, pup,” he assured. His voice was tender, making the ache in your chest deepen.

You don’t know if you're cut out for this.

“You’re with us because you’re tough,” He continued. “You’re a part of the pack, you need to act like it.”

You had never been one for tough love. However, when it came from Simon it eased you. Maybe it was his unwavering confidence or the fact that it showed he believed in you.

“Thank you, Simon,” you breathed.

“Remember what we talked about?” Simon questioned, while you clung to Kyle. You pulled your wet face from out under his chin, your bleary eyes staring up at the hulking man.

“Don’t answer the door unless I already have plans with someone. If there is something sketchy going on, hide in your bathroom and call the number on the sticky note on the bathroom mirror,” you repeated. Simon had turned his and John’s bathroom into a panic room in case something were to happen. You weren't sure if the idea soothed you or not. Regardless, it was a loving gesture. One that had the smell of a well-taken-care-of omega drifting off of you. It was quickly overshadowed by your bleak scent.

“And?”

“-and if I have a bad feeling about something I'm probably right,” you finished.

“Good girl.”

A kiss being pressed against the outside of your ear brought you back to the beta you still had your claws in.

“Kyky?” you hummed.

“Yes, lovie?” he hummed back, swaying the two of you back and forth. Simon made no move to rush either of you.

“Can I sleep in your bed while you're away?” you asked quietly. He agreed without missing a beat. It had helped the night Johnny left. A hand rested against Kyle's shoulder.

Time was up.

Kyle detached himself from you. You didn't help him in the process but you didn't keep your grip as tight. He moved to the door, grabbed his bag, and flung it over his shoulder.

“Bye, pup.” Simon sighed, grabbing his own bag off the floor.

“Bye, alpha.” The title didn't leave your lips without your consent. It was a sentiment, something to let Simon know you acknowledge the way he had stepped up for you while John was away. His body froze, a low rumble echoing in his chest. He turned around, his hand resting on the back of your head pulling you against his chest. He gave you one solid squeeze, pulling away before you could fully process or sink into him.

“Be good,” he commanded over his shoulder heading out the door. Kyle snuck one last hug in, before shutting the door behind him.

You were alone.

You couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn't any quieter than it usually was, yet the air was cold. The comfort stripped from it as soon as the door closed behind Kyle. You whined, pulling yourself out of Kyle's bed and making your way to Johnny's. You grabbed his speaker hoping some background noise would muffle the sound of the stale air. It had helped, the smell of Kyle’s neutral scent causing the pounding in your head to relax and combined with the scent of Johnny from the stuffed jellyfish he had bought you, you should be passed out by now.

It was too dark.

You huffed, uncovering yourself again, heading towards the kitchen, flicking the light on, and making your way back to Kyle's room. You kept the door open providing just enough light to where you could clearly see everything without any mistaken shadows.

You finally fell asleep.

The next day you had something planned with Anais. It was a ‘fitness club’ that met twice a week every week for two hours to futz around in the massive gym, without worrying about any cocky alphas or flirty betas. They had everything from trampolines to obstacle courses. You and Anais decided on the massive yoga balls.

“I feel horrible,” you whined, hitting the ground as the yoga ball shot out from under you.

“I would too after that.” Anais chuckled, still trying to find a safe space for her glasses. She looked so different without her eyes magnified. With her glasses, she was adorable, without them she was rather alluring. Her brown eyes became an elegant cat shape. “They’ll be back before you know it,” she soothed, trying to keep her balance.

“No, I mean I never asked about you. What do you do when Briggs isn't around,” you questioned.

“Stay with Jane,” she replied. “Sometimes they'll let you have a room in the medical center. You'll have to share with like six other omegas though. It's not too bad,” she smiled.

“If you ever need to stay with me you can,” you offered. She rolled over to you on her stomach, her hand reaching out for yours. You met her halfway, holding onto her arms.

“I mean this in the most respectful way. If I was around anyone in your pack for more than ten minutes I'm positive it would throw me into a heat,” she whispered, wiggling her brow. You laughed, pushing off of each other, both of you hitting the floor with a thud. “Seriously! How you haven't chewed a hole through any of them is beyond me.” She snickered, making you clutch your stomach.

“I've thought about it,” you sighed. “Especially Johnny’s arms,” you admitted, causing her to snort.

“Hey, ladies,” you both snapped your heads to the side at the new voice.

“Priya!” you cheered. It was the first time you had seen her since you'd met her.

“Mind if I sit?” she questioned, pointing to one of the other yoga balls.

“Of course. You remember Anais, right?” you introduced.

“Not that I can remember, no,” she said, making you and Anais quirk a brow.

“Oh! I usually wear glasses!” Anais chuckled, putting the thick frames back on her face. Priya's face lit up.

“Of course! I'm so sorry!” she chuckled.

Your mind had been completely taken off of the boys. The ache in your chest and the constantly looming cloud of doom vanished like it had never even been there. Until it was time to leave.

Anais’ alpha, Briggs, picked her up today and it was the first time you had ever seen him. He was handsome- a bit younger than you were expecting. His short blonde hair was neatly cropped, his green eyes shining when he saw her.

It reminded you of how Kyle looks at you.

“I've heard a lot about you,” he smiled, putting Anais down. There was a boyish charm about him. So different from the vibe your boys gave off.

“Good things?” you hummed. He chuckled, nodding his head.

“Good things,” he affirmed. “Me and Anais will walk you back to your place,”

“Are you sure? Me and Priya live in the same building. So we won’t be alone,” you explained.

“Your alpha made sure my girl got home. It's only fair I return the favor,” he insisted.

You couldn't argue with that. Briggs was a gentleman through and through. That reminded you of John. He was from South Africa and had been in the military for ten years. He was older than he looked. His trip here was supposed to be quick, but he got wrapped up in an ongoing case. He and Anais had been together for three years, and he offhandedly mentioned trying for kids which made Anais swat at him. It was the first time you had seen her flush.

“Thank you, for making sure we got home safe,” you thanked outside the tall gray building.

“Of course.”

You and Anais hugged and Priya said a thank you of her own before the two of you headed inside.

“Hey wanna do something tomorrow?” Priya asked in the elevator.

“Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind? We could go to the library? Or”-

“There’s a recreational room in the medical center. I think it is supposed to be used for patients who are there for a long time, but no one is ever in there when I go.”

A small alarm bell went off in your head. Medical was the last place you would want to go for a fun time. It was uncomfortably sterile and ghoulish. Yet Priya looked excited. Maybe you were just being dramatic.

“Sounds good,” you shrugged, as she stepped off the elevator at her floor.

“Great, see you then!”

You had already broken one of Simon's rules.

Hellooooo! 🧡 See you in two days for chapter 17! It’s another dramatic one….

Do we think Simon redeemed himself? Maybe just a little? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you for interacting with this post! 🧡

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katsukistofu · 3 months ago

Text

prickle me pink

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. ⭑ katsuki finds himself taking care of the cactus you gifted him against his better judgement.

It’s in the little things he does.

The sticky notes he leaves for you in the bento box he “accidentally” made an extra of and gives to you because he “ain’t wasting perfectly good food,” telling you to drink your damn water and that he’s proud of you, or that you look cute today.

Your favorite snack and a juicebox on your desk in the morning before the bell rings, which you swear you’ve only mentioned liking once and it was when you first met.

Whenever he fusses over your jacket when it’s cold outside and insists you hold hands with him, saying it’s “more work for him if you get sick.” Yet the way he takes off his scarf to wrap you up in its warmth is devastatingly gentle, despite his coarse scoldings.

Homemade chocolates shoved into your hands the moment you arrive at school every single White Day without fail, ignoring the stares from envious onlookers as he tugs you by the hand to walk you to class. The bandaids, only the cute character ones because you’re a stubborn brat who won’t wear anything else no matter how bad you get hurt, and ointment he keeps in his school bag.

Because he knows how accident prone you can be and it drives him insane whenever he sees a new scratch or bruise come from out of nowhere when you were fine moments ago.

Katsuki’s always been meticulous about everything in his life, and that includes loving you.

So the confusion on his face is almost humorously palpable as he squints at the cactus you randomly place in front of him in class one day.

“What is this?” Your boyfriend grumbles, holding his notebooks and pencil case in his hands. “Taking up space on my desk.”

“Suki!” You pout. “That’s mean. I bought this cactus.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because…?”

“‘Cause it reminds me of you!”

The fuck does that even mean, it reminds you of him? This short, misshapen, stubby little thing that needed to be buried in dirt to even stand up on its own? Katsuki snorts, his amusement only growing at the sight of your deepening worried frown.

As if he would ever throw away anything from you. He’d rather take one of his own explosions to the face.

“Thanks, I guess.” Is all he says, his hand coming down to give a strong pat to your head. It was kind of ugly, but whatever. Hell, it was a gift from you that you specifically got for him, and honestly that’s all that mattered. “I’ll take care of it.”

You beam up at him from under his palm, and his heart clenches. “Really?”

“Yeah. Now go sit your ass down and take out that homework I know you forgot to do last night.”

“Yessir!” You mock salute and hurry over to your seat, opening up your shoulder bag.

Denki grimaces as he passes by, pointing at the new green addition to the blond boy’s desk. “Ew Bakugo, what is that?”

“Shut up, Dunce Face.” Katsuki scowls, protectively moving the pot closer to him. “Your eyes are getting shittier than Glasses’.”

Mina laughs as Denki sulks, now in his own seat, and glances over to where he was pointing at. “Ooh, it’s actually pretty cute!”

“Damn right it is.”

Katsuki’s lips curve slightly in pride, crimson eyes flickering over to your direction where you were hunched over scribbling on paper with scrunched up eyebrows, trying to do some problems on your own while you wait for him to come over. Fuck, you’re cute, he thinks.

“That’s ‘cause my girl picked it.”

After class, Katsuki finds himself googling “how to not kill a cactus” for the first time in his life and of course it’s because of you.

His brow raises as he scans the gardening article on his phone screen.

He’s no green thumb but he’s had some experience and it was pretty easy to keep a plant alive, but just to make sure. Half of it is information he already knows, put your cactus in a good spot to get sunlight, water it once a week, yada yada.

But what catches his eye is the section labeled “Flowering Cacti.”

So they could bloom depending on the species, and only under very nit-picky conditions, like cool to warm temperature fluctuations and specific pollinators. Interesting.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have to wrangle a bat to get some flowers to grow on it, though he could probably ask that animal-talking extra to help.

“Katsuki!” Something tackles him from behind and he barely budges, already knowing it’s you. It’s muscle memory at this point, the feeling of your soft body against his, etched into the molecules of his skin from all those times you’d sneak into his dorm past curfew to cuddle and how you always fell asleep on him during class field trips, not to mention plane rides.

You peer over his broad shoulder like a hamster peeking out of their hidey hole. “What are you looking at?”

“Nosy.” Katsuki snorts, holding up his phone to your face. Deliberately only showing the guide on how to care for cacti indoors, and not the flowering one. He doesn’t want you to see it, not yet.

─────────

You’re in your boyfriend’s dorm room several days later, finally finishing the last problem on the new sheet of homework you got from Ectoplasm’s class. Bakugo hovers over you to scan your equations, finally giving a satisfied nod.

A jolt of pride courses through him. You got all of them right, just like how he taught you.

“Good job.” Katsuki pats your head and your heart soars. You tilt your head up to give a little smooch to his palm and he blushes, jerking his hand back.

“The fuck?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to his mouth in retaliation, pressing a painstakingly soft kiss there, then to your palm too. Katsuki smirks at the way he makes you shakily exhale at his touch. “What was that for?”

“Nothing.” An almost drowsy, content smile spreads across your lips. “Just love you so much.”

"Stop trying to one up me,” Katsuki rasps in your ear. You yelp as his hands squeeze your hips hard, holding onto his toned arms to steady yourself.

“Not trying to! Just telling the truth.” You keep looking at him with a cute, dumb grin on your face, and his breath catches.

Your eyes widen as you sneak a glance at his desk.

“Woah! Katsuki Jr. got taller.”

He snorts, turning his head to also look at the cactus that’s been sitting under his lamp for the past week. “Katsuki Jr.?”

“Yeah because you guys have the same hair.” You exaggerate a dreamy sigh, reaching up to caress his cheek. “He really takes after you, Katsuki Sr.”

“Shut up, dumbass.” He nudges your cheek with his nose, drinking up the delicious sounds of your giggles.

“Can I sit in your lap now?” You ask shyly.

With an eye roll, Katsuki holds his arms out for you to claim the reward he proposed earlier for this study session. “Get over here already.”

His arms wrap comfortably around your waist as you settle in your usual spot between his firm thighs, and he drops his head down and brushes a soft kiss against the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” The pink blossoming across his cheeks contradicts his gruff tone, but you’ve known him too long to not know better.

Katsuki Bakugo is meticulous in loving you, and that means he never says anything he doesn't mean.

─────────

The vibrations in the pocket of his slacks are becoming so incessant that he can’t ignore them anymore and Katsuki sighs under his breath as he slips it out while Aizawa’s turned to the board to write something.

ass gremlin

sukiiiii

ass gremlin

katsudonnnnn

ass gremlin

kitkattttt

katsu curry

What

ass gremlin

send me pics of our baby pls i wanna see how tall he is now

katsu curry

That cactus you bought me two weeks ago

ass gremlin

duh!!!

katsu curry

Later

In my room before we go out

ass gremlin

YAYYAYAY

can u help me pick my outfit too

katsu curry

Duh

We’re matching dumbass

Katsuki’s behind you with a firm hand on your waist to hold you in place when you smirk at the window sill, and he looks up to see that you’re admiring Katsuki Jr.

The cactus was an even more vibrant shade of green than when you first gave it to him, and small, delicate pink flowers were starting to bloom on its fuzzy head.

It took a lot of effort to get those to start growing, but it was all worth it to see the delighted expression on your face right now.

“So you really have been taking care of him like he’s your kid, huh?”

“Our kid.” He corrects you with a grumble against your neck, easily zipping up the back of your dress in one smooth motion. “Told you I would, didn't I? Thing was a pain in the ass to find high potassium fertilizer for.

“Aw, really?” You turn around to face him and he brings you closer as your arms rest on his broad shoulders. “Well… you know how it’s better to have two cats than one, since just one kitty can make them feel lonely?”

He knows that look. Katsuki scowls, roughly poking a dent into your cheek to discourage the mischievous grin that's starting to spread across your face.

“You’ll never guess what I got you for our anniversary.”

“No.”

“But Katsuki Jr.!”

“I raised that little shit, he’ll tough it out.”

“I just thought maybe we could get him a sibling—“

“No.”

ur contact name is ass gremlin bc u have bad habit of smacking his butt when he walks by lol

#official team up mission bakugo art from sakiyo jump 2024 ed #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bnha fluff #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo oneshot #bakugou x reader

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eczlipse · 2 months ago

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( 정원 ) ─ 12:26am

after a while of working on the groups next comeback, jungwon felt heavily stressed by the constant recordings and photoshoots. he missed you— your voice, your face and your body. you kept on missing eachother, when he’d get home you’d be asleep. when you’d get home, he’d be gone. you missed your boyfriend immensely.

you’d gotten home tonight pretty late— not so usual coming from you. normally, you would work a day shift making you finish work at around 4pm, but tonight you ended at 11. your day had been dreadful and you definitely needed some time to relax. you’d hoped that jungwon would get home not so late tonight so you could at least talk to him once, or kiss him goodnight— anything honestly.

suddenly, you heard commotion outside your apartment door, rushing to go see it— through the peep hole stood your adorable boyfriend in a beanie about to key into the room. before he could, you opened the door swiftly as you jumped into his arms. you wrapped your legs around his waist and hurried your face into his neck. you squealed as you felt jungwon place his hands around your waist and tighten his grip on you.

- wonnie— i missed you so much baby.

you whispered into his neck while trailing pecks around his face. as he smiled, you’d seen his cute dimples coming in which made you blush even more.

- hi my love, i missed you so much too. let me set my things down hm ?

he hummed as he placed a soft peck on your lips before placing you down slowly on the floor. he brought himself inside and locked the door behind him. you stood there, excited to finally see your boyfriend after so long. he looked as amazing as ever, the messy hair, the tiredness in his eyes— just his everything. you wanted him in both ways, physically and sexually. a part of you wanted to just cuddle with your boyfriend until dawn— while another part of you wanted you both to soothe each other in your own ways.

as jungwon walked into your shared bedroom, you quickly followed behind whilst helping him. you’d taken his bags and placed them down on the floor— and eventually you helped him with his jacket. you began whispering to him as you unzipped his clothes,

- so much to work on for this comeback, hm’ ?

you focused yourself on his clothing and placing them else where.

- thank you, baby. yes— i’ve been given a lot of lines.

he breathed as you took his beanie, glasses and scarf off. you’d both been sitting down on the edge of the bed.

- that’s great wonnie! m’ so excited to hear it now!

you smiled and grabbed his face kissing it. as you began kissing your boyfriend, he’d suddenly deepened the kiss as his hands began trailing around your body everywhere. you let out a hitch as he pulled you closer to him by the waist.

- i don’t think you know how much i’ve missed you—

you whispered into the kiss, as he placed a hand on your jaw.

- show me then ?

he smirked at you teasingly, making you chuckle. at his words, you trailed your hands down from his chest to his groin and began subtly rubbing his growing erection through his jeans. you’d feel his breath hitch into your ear as he let out slight gasps. you made eye contact with him as he whimpered softly.

at that, you attempted to unbuckle his jeans, freeing his erection from the tightness surrounding him. jungwon slowly trailed his hand up and under your shirt, gently rubbing your breasts over your bra fabric making you moan as well.

you slowly brought yourself down and in between his legs. you stared up at him as you gradually slid down his boxers, finally having him reveal himself. you grinned as you began rubbing onto his hardness making him throw his head back. you stroked him, letting him slip out a few groans of pleasure. his size had been taking up almost your whole hand— you wanted to make him feel good. as you took him in your hands, you placed your mouth on his tip making him whimper out your name.

- f- fuck— y/n..

he cried out as he placed his head on your head, making you bop into him deeper. your moans around his shaft and his moans filled up the room as you quickened your pace on him. as you fastened your hands around his member, you felt him twitching. his breath shuddering as his grip in your hair tightened. he thrusted himself into your hand wanting more as you attempted to make him finish. as you tightened your hands around his length, he let out a breathy moan as he threw his head back. you’d gotten wetter every second as he came into your hands.

- that was amazing, baby.

your boyfriend spoke to you breathlessly. he sighed as you brought yourself back up to his and pressed your lips against his— straddling onto him. you found yourself right over his tired shaft.

- i wanna make you feel good too- hm’ ?

he hummed in between kisses as you smiled at him. you nodded as he began sliding your sweatpants off. as wet as you felt, it’d been a familiar feeling, desperately needing him once again. you hitched at his touch— trailing his hands over the hem of your underwear, pulling them down. jungwon then pulled you closer as you placed yourself over him once more.

steadily, he placed himself inside you as you let out a soft moan. he guided your hips, controlling his thrusts— you’d feel him tighten his grip on your hips as you let out whimpers in between thrusts. as he deepened himself into you, you couldn’t help but moan into his ear, making him whisper profanities under his breath.

- you feel so good, beautiful.

he mumbled in between movements as you placed your hands over his shoulders— rolling your hips against his shaft as you cried out his name. you began feeling him fasten his pace around you as your walls began to clench.

- jungwon—

you cried out as he quickened his thrusts making you a moaning mess. at that, you felt your orgasm flush over you as your high descended. your boyfriend had pulled out of you— shortly after he let out a groan, cumming and pulling out of your tired body. you both panted as you pressed your lips against eachother once more, glad to have seen eachother again.

#jungwon #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #jungwon smau #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagines #enhypen fic #jungwon drabbles

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cherryredcheol · 4 months ago

Text

"pretty"

tldr: all the way chan uses your nickname a/n: he is my boyfriend (for real(not clickbait))

chants: when he needs you to slow down

“pretty, pretty, pretty” he rushes out, trying to get you to focus on him. you were pacing back and forth in the bedroom listing things off on your fingers, trying to remember if you forgot to pack something in your already overflowing suitcase. you were headed to busan for your anniversary and unlike him, you were a little stressed.

“who knew it was so hard to pack for three days” he said under his breath as he got up from the bed stopping you in your tracks. you look up at him, face flushed from the stress and pout. he swears his heart skips a beat. he knew he shouldn’t think it was cute to see you so stressed but he was so endeared by the effort you’d put into this trip for the two of you.

”this is going to be great because we’re celebrating us. let it be fun, pretty.” his shoulders shook as he saw you roll your eyes, pulling a deep laugh from him. you stepped around him and continued pacing, side-eyeing his empty bag in the closet. “it's our anniversary, you could forget your luggage entirely and it would actually make me happier.”

slurs: when you open the door

“pretty~” he drawls, giving you a million-dollar smile. your eyes bulge as you take in the very drunk man before you. you were under the impression that he would be staying with the boys tonight since it was a “boy’s night”. skincare complete, you thought you’d be alone for the evening and had your show already pulled up on the tv and your favorite snacks laid out on the coffee table.

“let me in” he whines and you grab his hand, quickly pulling him into your apartment afraid your neighbors might come out to investigate the noise. you didn’t want anyone to catch you and your boyfriend in a less-than-desirable state. you had just moved into this building together. he beams at you, leaning down for a kiss, but you pull away, grossed out by the smell of liquor on his breath.

“you’re not even going to kiss me?” he was pouting now, disappointed he’d gotten a ride back to your apartment from the dorms and wasn’t even going to get a kiss for his efforts. you watched his pout deepen into a frown and gave in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, still repelled by the smell of his mouth. “if i shower will you kiss me for real?”

sniffles: after a fight

“hey, pretty?” he knocks on the bedroom door, peeking his head in. you’re flat on your back, eyes staring above you at nothing. he stands nervously at the door, unsure if he should enter. when you glance in his direction, he takes it as an invitation to come in.

‘'i umm…” he pauses, standing next to the bed, your shared bed that now he wasn’t sure he was welcome in. you saw his hesitation and reached out a hand for him. the distance between you suddenly unbearable, fight seeming frivolous now reflecting upon it. you couldn’t even remember what you had been fighting about to begin with. all of it seemed so silly now after having spent the last few hours alone in this room when the person you wanted to be with most was in the living room, the only thing keeping you apart was your shared stubbornness.

“i’m sorry, pretty,” he sat down at your side, grabbing your hand. your eyes had been trained on the slowly spinning fan above you but now turned to him, shocked to hear his voice so thick with emotion. you sat up, keeping your hands connected, sensing he needed some comfort in this moment. “i don’t like fighting with you, pretty.”

grunts: when you land on top of him

“pretty–” it came out gruff, surprised by the sudden addition of your weight on his lap. the puff he’d been holding in his mouth came out with his words, making the already hazy living room even more so. his eyes were lidded and rimmed red and you couldn’t help yourself when you saw him sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone with one hand, a joint balanced in the other.

“is everything alright?” he was stoned, not fully coherent, but could still tell something was up. when you kissed him instead of providing an answer, he understood. you did always have a thing for him when he smokes. kissing you felt better than any joint had ever made him feel, the rush immediate and the high unmatched.

“whoa,” he pulled back when you deepened the kiss, as far back as he could go pressed into a couch with you on his lap. the sting of rejection hurt but he soothed it immediately pressing smaller kisses sound your face, pulling a giggle from you, suddenly feeling a little high yourself, probably on him. “let’s get out of here and,” he held up the other half of his joint, “finish this somewhere more private?”

mumbles: when he wants something

“pretty?” you looked up at him from the floor of the practice room, setting your laptop aside to give him your attention. you’d recently gotten into the habit of bringing your work with you to hybe when you came to watch him practice. as much fun as it was, it got kind of old to watch him perfect the same five moves for hours on end.

“would you dance with me?” he’s holding a hand out to you, a hopeful smile on his lips but words timid, rushed. you suddenly notice the dimmed lighting in the room and soft music playing from the speakers. you’d been so lost in your screen you hadn’t noticed anything. you blush and take his hand. he pulls you to your feet and into his chest.

“you’re a good dancer,” he says after a few minutes of slowly swaying back and forth to a playlist full of romantic music he made with only you in mind, this moment was something he had hoped for when you’d started coming to the practice room at night. “i love you, pretty.”

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #chan x reader #chan fluff #dino x reader #dino seventeen #dino imagine #dino imagines #dino fluff #chan seventeen #lee chan #dino

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florencemtrash · 8 months ago

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Fifteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: ANGST... that's about the only major warning I can think of

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Jurian and Vassa took the attic and became scarce, but when night and day slid into one another you still heard her painful screams, muffled as they were by the magic that encased their room. It was a feeling more than anything else. A tension that gripped the House until it seemed to be sobbing. At sunrise and sunset without fail, Vassa’s body broke and rearranged itself, flesh turning to feathers and feathers to flesh. Before it had been a painless process where her body came and went in its various forms, but no longer. Now she felt everything alongside an itch deep within her bones that couldn’t be satiated by food or drink or anything else.

Go to the lake! Her body screamed. Go to Koschei! And then punished her when she didn’t comply. Like a beast had sunk its claws into her flesh, its waiting mouth only inches away from snapping. To stay away was a slow, agonizing march to death. To move close would be swift, but final, and somehow Vassa knew that if she gave into Koschei’s call, she would be lost forever.

You lingered at the base of the attic's staircase, your bare feet sinking into the soft rug until the sounds of cracking bones finally ceased. Three pairs of feet shuffled above your head and you heard Jurian’s faint whispers like a gentle push of air. When the door opened and Lucien emerged, you saw Vassa crumpled on the floor, now a bone-thin woman with dull, coppery hair and skin ravaged by scratches and pockmarks.

“Shhhh. It’s ok.” Jurian whispered, encasing her in his arms.

“I can’t,” her voice trembled. “It hurts. I-I-I’m burning.”

“Y/n?” Lucien frowned. The door slammed shut with a bang and you jumped backwards. You clutched a velvet pouch close to your chest and then slowly held it out to Lucien.

“It’s for Vassa,” you explained, trying to keep your eyes on his mismatched ones — one russet as river stones, one gold like the sun. He opened the bag and stared in confusion at the fine, white powder within, giving it a tentative sniff. “Morphine. Humans use it for pain.”

“I know of it.” Lucien’s frown deepened. “They get addicted. Take too much and they die.”

“She’s already addicted. That’s what’s happening isn’t it? Koschei’s drawing his power away to get her to return to the lake and every day that passes she’s dying.” Lucien tightened his fists around the bag, still skeptical. Vassa had endured enough. He didn’t want to have her endure this either. “The bag is enchanted and will never allow her to draw too much. Just enough to calm her hunger. If we’re lucky it might help her sleep too.”

Lucien stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists from around the gold drawstring, waiting for Vassa’s cries to cease. But they never did. And there you were standing in front of him, unwavering and expectant. There was a glimmer of stubbornness in your gaze. A sign of the hours you’d spent researching Vassa’s condition and acquiring the strange human drug, and your disapproval if Lucien didn’t accept it.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he whispered, “But please go. Vassa hates for anyone to see her like this. Even Jurian and I.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, disappearing down the stairs as quickly as you could. The next morning when the sun rose over the mountains and Vassa changed, you heard only the House’s usual breathings.

The House buckled under the weight of the Inner Circle’s secrets and the sheer volume of history that had occurred within its walls and between its occupants. It utilized its magic in clever ways — your door opened with a creak that wasn’t there before so that Azriel would always hear your comings and goings. Lucien would suddenly find his door locked and the curtains drawn on the days when Helion made surprise visits to see Y/n. Nyx would find himself ushered around by a broomstick that swatted his ankles when the adults were discussing private matters. It was all a great deal of work.

So it was a relief when Rhys and Feyre quietly moved their children to the House of Wind with Nesta and Cassian, and when Mor and Emerie took the final steps in emptying their rooms and went to hide out in their city apartment. It was even more of a relief when Helion returned to the Day Court, but not before throwing a heavy threat in Azriel’s face that if he should ever hurt his daughter again in any way, shape, or form, he’d strip the wings off his back.

Meals at the House were tense, quiet affairs, something not even Feyre, Elain, and Nesta’s sisterly conversations or Cassian’s light-hearted humor could ease. Elain stayed close to Lucien’s side, one hand always on his arm or resting against his back or brushing against his, but that didn’t erase what the Blood Duel had done to his trust in Elain. He was kind, but guarded, especially when Azriel was in the room. But it was more than she could ask for because it was more than she’d ever given him in the beginning.

You and Azriel were worse off.

You were speaking once more, but your words were always laced with a bit of apprehension and Azriel’s were always filled with sorrowful hope. Conversations were dull, short, and didn’t even begin to brush the surface of all the things you should have been talking about. You were terrified not of the Shadowsinger, but of his opinion of you. Did he want you so he could fix you? So that he could feel needed? So that you could be another one in a list of females he burned through?

It never truly seemed like that was the case, but you also didn’t trust yourself when it came to your emotions. You had told him once that you couldn’t imagine having a love like Feyre and Rhysand’s, or Nesta and Cassian’s, and you still meant it. You were a matchstick and he was flint, and you didn’t know what would happen to you after he had lit you aflame. For all you knew, you were already burning and this wonderful thing you’d had with Azriel would live and die with nothing more than the memory of an embrace in Rhysand’s office to show for it.

But oh how you ached to touch him again. To hold him like you had before and to have him return the gesture just as strongly.

You stiffened when Azriel’s hand brushed your arm, warmth bursting out from the point of contact.

“I’m sorry.” Azriel whispered, and he was talking about more than the wine he spilled when he reached over the table.

You spared him a glance, the first real look you’d given him in two weeks. The flagon slipped from his hands, and if it weren’t for his shadows catching it an inch above the floor, the room would have been doused in burgundy red.

“Does Lucien know?”

Rhysand looked up from his papers. Missives from the Darkbringer army and Illyrian troops up north clogged his desk, all begrudgingly accepting his orders to prepare for what could amount to another lengthy war. Letters thrown back and forth between the seven courts added to the chaos, all of them war-weary and desperate for a path that wouldn’t lead to bloodshed.

You took up the center of his room and stood so quietly he hadn’t even noticed you until you spoke. It had been eating away at you for days since Lucien’s arrival. Every time you two saw one another or spoke, you tried to scrounge for clues that would reveal whether he knew he was Helion’s son and whether he might suspect you were Helion’s daughter as well. The other members of the Inner Circle had been tight-lipped about that secret, a skill you now knew they all possessed with alarming dexterity.

“Does Lucien know he’s Helion’s son?”

Rhysand slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples with one careful hand. Finally he said, “Yes.”

The answer knocked the breath from your lungs. You’d been expecting the opposite. “Does he… does he know about me?”

Rhys sighed and shook his head. You didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

“How long has he known?”

“Six years. Feyre was the one to tell him. She was actually the first of us to recognize the similarity, believe it or not. But then, no one ever dared to give weight to the rumors surrounding Helion and Aurelia Vanserra while Beron was alive.”

You rocked back and forth on your feet, breath shaking as it entered your body. “Six years. Six years and you never thought to tell Helion that he has a son? I thought you two were friends?”

Rhysand tensed. “I’m Lucien’s friend as well and he begged us to never speak of it - to live as though we’d never learned that secret. And I keep my secrets. We all do.”

“You and your family have made that very clear in the time that I’ve been here.”

“If you mean Azriel—”

“Don’t play dumb, Rhys, you know I’m talking about him.” Tears pricked at your eyes, adding to the humiliation that had coated you like a film ever since you’d seen his memories about Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. “I don’t—” You swallowed thickly, “I can imagine how you must have all been whispering behind my back about Azriel and I. How you must have found it so pathetic the way he charmed me when I was really his fourth choice.”

“That’s not true.” Was what Rhysand was going to say. But he didn’t need to. Azriel said it for him.

Your face lost all color, any bravado melting away at the feeling of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around your ankles like ribbons of silk. You could feel him in the room and that quiet darkness he carried around with him as inherently as if it were stitched onto his body.

Azriel was shaking. Shaking. With anger, turmoil, or grief — you couldn’t name it. All you knew is that one moment you were standing in Rhysand’s office, all velvet upholstery and suave, expensive taste, and the next you were in Azriel’s room.

Everything smelled like mountain air. Maybe it was the gothic windows that stretched into the vaulted ceilings, stained glass opening out onto a personal balcony with deep blue curtains fluttering in the breeze. But you were sure that even with the windows barred it would smell the same. It would smell like Azriel. If you threw open his wardrobe you’d come face to face with a wall of black. Lots and lots of black. Black suits he hardly ever wore. Black fighting leathers. Black leather jackets for everyday. Black trousers. Black boots on the floor. Very practical. Very Azriel.

If you dug through his dresser drawers you’d find black boxers and socks to match and no shortage of knives and daggers hidden behind wooden planks or in leather sleeves nailed to the bottom of his desk. But at first glance you only saw three weapons in plain view — Truth Teller, blade down and stuck in the wood grain of his desk beside a pile of reports, and two obsidian blades hanging from the wall beside his midnight blue bed in the shape of an “x.”

The smell — Azriel’s smell — calmed you, at least up to the point where you turned to find him standing less than six inches away, hazel eyes boring into yours. Then your pulse skyrocketed. You were certain that if he only looked down to your heart he’d see it pounding against your chest like a drum skin ready to burst.

“That’s not true,” he repeated earnestly. “And don’t you dare believe it. Not even for a second.”

His eyes jumped back and forth between yours and before he could stop himself, his hands were grasping yours in a gentle hold. The leather gloves were soft and supple beneath your fingertips. You wanted to rip them off so you could feel his scarred hands again.

“You weren’t meant to hear that,” you whispered, suddenly feeling small. That angry humiliation went up in a puff of smoke and left you shy and uncertain.

Azriel gripped your hands a little tighter and you watched as tendrils of shadow worked their way up your arms and got lost in your hair. “But I did,” he said breathlessly, “And I need you to know that it’s not true.”

“Azriel—”

“I know—” he was shaking his head, “I know what Helion said and I won’t lie and tell you that I’m perfect or that I’ve made any smart decisions about love in the past — I’ve not make a single one — but… but Y/n you’re not a fourth choice. You’re not something broken that I’m trying to fix or some fantasy I’ve fallen for.”

His hands shook and despite the gloves his hands still felt sticky and wet. Slick with your blood. The burning scent of iron in his nose.

“You’re the most real thing in the world to me. You’re—” You’re my mate. The words crawled up his throat like acid and it just felt wrong. He would say those words to you. He would. But not now. Not like this. He came up with something else. “Y/n, please tell me you believe me. Please.”

And there you were. Falling all over again. Burning like a matchstick on fire. The flames slowly eating away at you bit by bit. You wondered what would happen when you finally hit the ground, or when you ran out of length. Would he still hold you like this? Would you still feel real to him?

“How am I meant to know, Azriel?”

You’d always been good at books. You knew the ways in which these stories worked where the themes and plot points had been preordained and written with the purpose of being tied up in a neat package by the final page. People were very different. They were unpredictable and chaotic and they could lie through the skin of their teeth and believe they were telling the truth. And that was the problem wasn’t it? Because you still believed every word that came out of Azriel’s mouth, and his hands still felt like they were keeping you tethered to this earth when sometimes your powers and the memories that came with them made you feel like a whisper on the wind. Weightless and at the mercy of something you couldn’t control.

“You can trust me. You can know for yourself.”

He pressed your hand against his cheek and you wanted to cry at the faint pricks of stubble beneath your skin and the sharp curve of his jaw.

He wanted you to use your power on him. He wanted you to learn all the ways he wanted you. All the ways he loved you.

But you couldn’t do it.

Azriel panicked when you remained silent, staring at him and at his hands like you were frightened. All at once he was back on the streets of Velaris, cobblestones shaving away at the skin of his palms as he dragged his way up to you inch by bloody inch, fighting against a body that was too broken to move.

He couldn’t remember what it felt like when he’d stabbed you through the chest and dropped you on the street. Everything between the moment he saw Andrian’s clear-cut eyes to the moment he saw Rhysand’s horrified gaze was fuzzy and dark. But that made it worse because now in his nightmares he could imagine all the ways he’d hurt you, each version teeming with the same level of horror and possibility as the previous one.

He let you go and hated himself when you stepped back, your hand slipping away.

“I won’t… I won’t hurt you again, Y/n. I swear on my life. I’ll-I’ll make a bargain, I don’t care. I would sooner die than let something like that happen again.”

I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.

“Y/n, please.”

I am not broken. But I am afraid.

You fled from his bedroom.

The air had a bite to it now with winter descending. The snow line on the mountains dipped lower and lower each day, creeping like ivy down a brick wall.

Elain never wore gloves. Not when she was gardening. It was something she and Ione had in common. She liked the feeling of her strong hands, the callouses on her palms and fingers that she’d earned all on her own. She grunted, slamming her shovel into the soil and feeling the microscopic chips of ice give way when she kicked down on the blade. It was too late in the season to be planting tulip bulbs. If she’d been in Velaris she would have done this four weeks ago. But it was alright with her. She knew the value of hard work, and she had enough hope for the future to believe that even though she was late, she’d have something beautiful to call hers come springtime.

“It’s time for that conversation I was telling you about,” she said cryptically, as was her way.

Lucien dropped the final basket beside where Elain now knelt in the dirt, her pale pink dress dirtied and littered with her own handprints. The brown bulbs rolled around like oversized chestnuts, the kind that he’d be roasting over a fire right now if he were still in Autumn Court. Instead he was here, lingering in a Court that had never felt like home. Then again… he’d never felt at home in Autumn, Spring, or the Human Lands either.

He straightened up and wiped his hands clean on his trousers, golden and russet eyes trailing over the River House’s grounds for this mysterious person he was meant to speak to.

There.

The faint swishing of black robes behind a dark green topiary tree. He should have known Elain had been talking about you.

You cracked your knuckles and rehearsed the words you’d scribbled out earlier that day and then set to fire in a maddening loop. You’d been restless with the truth of Lucien’s parentage and you couldn’t believe that the others had held their tongues so readily. As it was, without Azriel’s company to help quiet your mind, you’d dug into this new piece of information like a starving animal and couldn’t let go.

Was this a good time to tell him? Would there ever be a good time to tell him? You had no idea.

Somewhere in the attic, you knew Vassa was itching to take to the skies like the burning comet she was. Every night she shivered in Jurian’s arms, the morphine barely able to take the edge off the humming in her bones, and every morning she let him lock her away in her cage. It was getting worse and worse trying to keep her from succumbing to Koschei’s influence. Even now you thought you could hear her keen cries whistling from the attic like ten thousand arrows launched into the air.

Somewhere else, in a secret, hidden place you knew nothing about, Andrian had finally been imprisoned. Andrian with his bent neck and silver, candy-floss hair and bloody little hands.

You shivered and jumped back five feet when Lucien called your name, kind eyes narrowed in concern. His shirt was loose and open and the sweat on his body rose like mist off his skin. He was his mother’s son first, Helion’s child second, and fire still ran through his veins. The chill did not touch him.

He tipped his head to the side, red hair spilling out from the messy way he’d tied it up and away from his face. A brutal scar ran through his eye like a fissure, starting at the center of his brow before clawing its way down his jaw like a lightning strike frozen in time. But for all the cruelty he’d been dealt with in life, his eyes were gentle, even the mechanical one that whirred and flashed in the sun.

They were even kinder when he looked at you. You with your inquisitive gaze and curious nature, like a stray cat that couldn’t help but linger too long at doorways. One foot inside, one foot ready to run and hide. He’d caught you watching him at dinners, and he’d catch himself staring when you walked around the house with a book in your hand, so utterly absorbed that you would bump against doorways and bang your hips against sharp corners.

“Elain told me about you. Did you know that?”

You blinked in surprise. “What did she say?”

“Elain… Elain doesn’t always speak clearly. Much of what comes out of her mouth can feel eerie or discomforting. But, she told me before we left for the Night Court that I would be happy I came. That I would never regret the things I learned on my trip.” He tilted his head even further, looking more and more like a fox with each turn of his face. “And she mentioned a bird. A bird with ink-tipped wings and eyes like a crow.”

You flexed your fingers, well aware that the tips were smudged with ink, the nails bitten down to the quick.

“Someone clever and cautious who’d been hidden away their whole life and needed to see the sun.”

You felt stripped bare. That strange vulnerability that comes with being summed up in so few words had you feeling airy. Like one sentence could be enough to carry the weight of the three centuries you’d lived and never buckle.

“I know you’re Helion’s son. I recognized it the moment I saw you.”

Lucien stepped back, scarlet brows shooting up into his hair with alarm.

You hesitated, then continued on cautiously. “I recognized it because I would know my father’s face anywhere.”

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

I KNOW IT'S A CLIFFHANGER ENDING BUT I NEEDED TO BREAK EVERYTHING INTO CHAPTERS SOMEWHERE AND I'M GOING TO TRY AND GET CHAPTER 16 UP BY WEDNESDAY SO I DON'T LEAVE Y'ALL HANGING FOR TOO LONG. HAVE MERCY!!!

The good news is that Chapter 16 is already mostly written, I just need to edit it all to make sure things flow smoothly. Also, LUCIEN KNOWS NOW AHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sorry for the Azriel angst... but it's delicious, no?

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x reader angst #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #I know the fandom has a toxic shipping culture around Elain/Lucien/Azriel in particular #leave me alone all right #I am going to write the couplings as makes sense because this is a READER X AZRIEL FIC #but also i don't stand for a lot of the Elain slander #smells of sexism to me sorry not sorry just let the girl be #obviously she's not perfect but she doesn't deserve the absurd amount of hate she gets #thanks for coming to my ted talk

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chigirisprincess · 9 months ago

Text

Doctor's Orders ೀ

— Wriothesley

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, werewolf!wrio, doctor!reader, reader is from liyue, wrio has boxing injuries, bratty and slightly tsundere reader, banter, teasing, power imbalance, boss!wrio and subordinate!reader, semi public sex, oral sex (reader giving), top!wrio, bottom!reader, vaginal fingering, hair pulling, pussy spanks, knotting, creampies, wrio speaks in french, french petname, french dialogue. ⊹ Run time. 5.0k ⊹ Note. This was originally a part of an event ask game held back in October ,,, Oopsies! But!!! It's finally finished and much longer than it was meant to be but this idea has been rotting my brain since September!! Enjoy lovelies <3

❝After a particularly grueling boxing match, Wriothesley finds himself on the receiving end of a scolding from his subordinate and doctor. Though he supposes he can't be too bothered when your next treatment has you on your knees for him.❞

The Duke’s office smells strongly of antiseptic and sweat. It smothers the usual scent of weathered parchment and fragrant tea that fills the room. The lack of windows and airflow makes the room grow stagnant, and your clothing clings uncomfortably to your skin as it’s dampened by the muggy humidity that claims the Fortress of Meropide. Rolling your neck out, you quickly glance upwards at the man who sits like a kicked puppy before you. His shoulders are slumped forward and he withers under your steely gaze.

It was unusual. Despite his newly elevated status and gruff demeanour, Wriothesley liked to talk, often far more than he should. Now, he remained silent in your care, save for the few pained grunts and whines as you dabbled disinfectant across his split knuckles. His brows are furrowed as he watches your deft fingers wrap gauze around his splintered skin. Your mouth opens and closes as you search for something comforting to say to him but you come up empty.

Not that you had said much to the man since being called from the infirmary to his office.

“All done,” you murmur, setting his nearly limp hand back into his lap, “Do you mind tilting your head for me?”

You nod to gesture at his split lip before turning away to rummage through your medical bag. There wasn’t much left but you had enough to finish patching him up. Soon, you’d need to visit the surface and replenish the infirmary supplies. Your lips dipped into a frown at the thought. Your scarce trips to the surface always seemed to be troublesome in one way or another. Taking Wriothesely’s stubbled chin between your thumb and forefinger, you sigh softly before dabbing at the gnarled gash that cut through his bottom lip.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile,” the Duke quips with a lopsided smile.

He peers up at you for a moment, his pale blue eyes flickering up and down your face as your frown deepens into a scowl.

“You’re an idiot,” the words fly faster out of your mouth than you mean for them to.

Your shoulders tense up as you prepare for a tongue-lashing from your boss. If he’d been a lesser man, you likely would have been sent packing long ago but Wriothesely stares at you long and hard, his long black lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he blinks at you. Maybe you’d think he looks rather pretty beneath the scars and bruises with such expressive eyes and doll-like lashes had you not run your mouth. Still, your mind lingers near the shores of murky waters as it begins to consider that he is attractive. Attractive in a way that should he ever wish to leave his life beneath waves behind, he’d find no shortage of suitors knocking down his door, all vying for a crumb of his attention and affections.

Objectively speaking, he was rather good-looking. This you knew, though it was something you refused to allow yourself to acknowledge in all of the years you resided in the fortress. He was your superior, one whose rugged outward appearance projected a far more intimidating and unapproachable mirage than you assume he would have liked. It stunned you into a skittish silence that lasted six months and only ended once you caught him deep in thought over which tea he was going to pick. By the time he had chosen a packet of soothing chamomile, the kettle of boiled water that sat adjacent to his tea cup had cooled and needed to be warmed once more.

“Your Grace, you have my sincerest apologies. I did not-”

“Come now, you don’t have to lie to me,” Wriothesely laughed, his ears twitching with delight, “Though, I must admit I think you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone here who agrees with you.”

You stiffened, your mouth agape with shock, “That is not what I meant, your Grace,” you sputter, drawing your hands away from him. Your mind teeters and you’re nearly thrown off kilter when he laughs again. Had you not been so wrought with surprise, you might have felt insulted, “It’s just … I advised against any formal or informal boxing matches with your shoulder still recovering and you didn’t listen!”

Your shoulders tremble with emotion, it may have been annoyance but you were far too aggravated by how prettily he looked as he stared at you with an amused smirk as you scolded him. Blood dribbles down his chin as his grin widens, aggravating his wound further. Shaking your head at him, you resist the urge to roll your eyes in an act of defiance. It would do little to aid in your plight and your words would deaf upon his fuzzy ears.

“And if I may be frank, because you pushed yourself past your limit, you got your ass handed to you!”

The smug smirk that sits on his stupidly pretty mug makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. He seems far too amused at being scolded and it sets a fire in your belly ablaze, frustration bubbling over the lip of the pot where your emotions are typically stuffed into. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scowl at Wriothesley.

“Oh? You think I lost because I was injured?” He laughs, bemused by how your face is twisted up in annoyance, “I let ‘im win, he needed it far more than I did.”

Your silence only spurs his grin to grow even wider.

“Come now, you think that was my limit?”

Wriothesley asks as if it should be obvious to you as if you should know his body as well as you know his own. Did the other medics around the fortress know him so intimately? Were you supposed to?

Shaking your head to push away those pesky thoughts you sighed, “Yes,” a lump settled in your throat as he stared unabashedly at you, “Do you really expect me to believe you allowed yourself to be beaten to a pulp so your underling could have an ego boost?”

He shrugs his shoulders, slowly lifting one of his hands to curl a single finger around one of your belt loops. His slate blue eyes slide up the length of your torso before settling on your face, “I must admit I’m a bit disappointed in your lack of faith,” he remarks, sending you a playful pout, “But I suppose I could show you where my limits lay, so next time we can skip the scolding and go straight the good part.”

“The good part?” You echo.

“Yeah, you know when you kiss me better.”

Your jaw fell open in shock, eyes widening as you struggled to form words. All that slipped past your lips was a strangled sort of laugh, “What?” You managed to pant between breaths. Your cheeks warmed at the thought, your skin prickling uncomfortably as salacious images filled your mind.

“I’m just playin’ with you,” Wriothesley says, though the expression he wears as he peers up at you is devoid of the same playful lilt it previously had.

Something akin to adoration pools within the depths of his eyes. Your stomach curls in on itself and the urge to look away fills you but you can’t force your eyes away from him. The sight of him is burned beneath your eyelids, almost against your will. Maybe you’ll allow yourself to revisit it late at night once you’ve escaped his clutches and laid your head to rest. Wriothesley’s long, sharp canines bite into the plush flesh of his bottom lip as he bares his teeth to you. The finger that is hooked around your belt loop tugs against the fabric to bring you closer to him. Your feet, heavy like lead weights, trip over themselves as he puppeteers you closer to him.

“Are you?” You question with a tilt of your head, your throat running dry and your belly fluttering with nerves “I’ve worked beneath you for years, I’ve heard just about every joke you’ve ever told, you didn’t sound like you were joking.”

His long, fuzzy tail tickles your thigh as it thumps up and down. Though Wriothesley is able to school his expression down he’s betrayed by his body and its need to act on baser instincts.

“Don’t tell me you’d prefer if I was beneath you, literally?”

Your lip curls upwards as his cheeks fill with blush. It felt good to tease him despite your racing heart and the fear that it may soon stop. Heat blankets your clammy skin, leaving pin prickling goosebumps in their wake. His thick, sturdy thighs trap yours between them. The tip of his finger unfurls and trails up your navel, lightly brushing the sliver of skin above your waistband that reveals itself when you bristle in surprise.

“I like it when you scold me,” he confesses, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, “It’s hot.”

Pressing his calloused thumb to your tummy, he rubs a circle into the flesh just beneath your belly button. Your pussy clenches in anticipation but your brows furrow in something akin to shame. It is shameful, how the slight brush of his bare skin against yours has set your being on fire and plunged you deep within a pit of desire. Your skin prickles as you pathetically lean into his touch.

Cocking your head to the side you try to steady your wobbling voice, “Oh yeah?” You ask, hoping the slight lilt is infused with more confidence than you were capable of possessing, “Does it turn you on?”

You try not to cringe over how your voice crackles with nerves like an old, worn speaker system.

“Maybe it does, but can you blame me?”

You couldn’t not when the sight of him glistening with sweat and dabbled with splattered blood after a boxing match filled your head with thoughts that were far better suited for those Inazuman light novels that your coworker Marguerite often indulged in when Sigewinne didn’t have her tending to patients. The sound of your blood rushing past your ears distracts you from his question as you become acutely aware of how your heart throbs painfully beneath your rib cage. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought you were dying from the rushing sense of urgency that quickly filled you. Your fingers twitched by your sides, they ached to press against your pulse point for confirmation that this was real and the Fortress hadn’t yet imploded, sending you straight into some dreamlike afterlife.

The soft call of your voice breaks you away from the murky, spiralling depths of your mind, “Sorry,” you murmur, chewing on your bottom lip, “What did you say?”

“Distracted?” He asks, his voice irritatingly smug, “Come now, I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so dumb for me?”

“Shut up.”

The words fly past your gritted teeth with ease despite his seniority. You peer down at him with furrowed brows and annoyance laced between the buttons of your dress shirt. You blink in shock, still half estranged with yourself and your behaviour. Wriothesley smiles at you, cupping your face with an achingly tender touch. Try as you might, you can’t will yourself to hate his touch. Your tummy dips into a summersault as your nerves crawl up your throat to clog up your vocal chords.

“Archons … You're so cute when you try to be mean,” he muses, biting his lip despite the splintered skin. You’re about to chastise him, but he smooths his thumb across your bottom lip. Dragging the flesh downward, he exposes your bottom row of teeth to him.

Shaking your head you hiss,“I’m not trying … You’re just so annoying!” smack his hand away, you try to keep your stony resolve from crumbling beneath the weight of his heated gaze.

“So I’ve been told.”

You don’t when you dipped your chin down, but you’ve begun to crouch lower so your face is level with his. His warm breath fans across your nose and cheeks. The minty scent of the gum he chewed on all the way to his office lingers on his breath.

“Liar,” you whisper.

The tip of Wriothesley’s nose brushes against yours. Your breathing slows for a moment, the air collecting in your chest as you hold it. You don’t have to see his expression to know there’s a rather pleased smirk on his lips. You sigh, it’s a bit too heavy to be seen as simply a sign of your resigned fate. In the end, it’s you who closes the small gap between your mouths, ending this silly game of chicken and kissing him. It’s better than you could have ever imagined.

Wriothesley tugs you into his lap with an eager fervour, his lips never once leaving yours. His hands slip down to grope your thighs in spite of the thick, unmoving material of your dress pants. He’s warm, surprisingly so. Heat melts off the bare skin of his torso, your face feels hot. You’d rather blame it on him than accept the flush that’s dripping down your neck and leaving you dabbled with clammy perspiration.

“Everyone here loves you,” you grit, your chest heaving as you breathe, “They adore you, I hear the praises they sing for you every day.”

His canines poke against your bottom lip as he nips the flesh, “Are they? Hm, I hadn’t noticed,” he smugly muses, “Do join in? Or, are you strictly an observer?”

Pressing your thumb into the battered, bruised flesh of his shoulder, you give him a pointed look.

Wriothesley winces, “Mon petit agneau,” he growls in warning, “I don’t think you want to do that.”

“Why? You know I’ll just stitch you back up.”

Tangling your fingers into his hair, you pull him in for another kiss. His tail thumps wildly about, slapping against the side of your body as he crushes you into his chest. The sharp edge of his teeth prick your lips as he works to pry your mouth open and lick his tongue inward. He groans into your mouth when your fingers find the base of his ears. They twitch in your hold. You can feel his cock harden against your crotch as you experimentally smooth your fingers around the sensitive flesh.

“That’s what doctors do, isn’t it?” You ask, swiping your tongue across your lip. It tastes metallic but you’re unsure if he’s split your skin or reopened his wound, “They put you back together and make you feel good?”

Wriothesley’s lashes flutter as his eyes roll back slightly, “Kinda hard to do that when you’re purposely trying to get me all riled up.”

He pushed you onto your back before you were able to spin together a response. The sofa he keeps in his office is as uncomfortable as it looks. A rouge spring digs into your spine but it does not yet pierce the fabric, keeping you safe … for now.

“Archons above, have you always been such a brat?”

When he looms over you like this, Wriothesley appears oddly predatory. What’s strange is not how quickly perspective can switch but rather how little fear fills you up. It’s thrill that pours into your lungs and leaves you sputtering in anticipation. Your legs spread a little wider to invite his body to slot between your thighs.

You don’t think when your hands fly to unbutton your shirt, “I’m not,” you smoothly reply, “Don’t pout like a petulant child when I’ve bested you at your own game.”

His teeth glint in the low light.

“You think you’ve bested me?” He questions, grumbling something beneath his breath. You’re unsure what he’s saying, it’s something in his native Fontainian tongue. It sounds rather pretty, you almost want to ask him to repeat himself for the chance to hear it again but he cuts you off in the gruff common tongue you share.

“How foolish you are.”

The metal of his belt clinks as he yanks it open. You’re about to scold him to be mindful of his knuckles but blood soaks through the gauze before you’re able to. His handcuffs jingle loudly as he tosses them to the floor, his belt going with it. Goosebumps prickle your heated skin as the fabric of your shirt falls away from your body. You shiver, nearly flinching as your pants and underwear are tugged down your legs. His palms are calloused, weathered with the signs of time and age, they’re rough against your supple thighs. They drag over your skin in quiet contemplation as Wriothesley sizes you up.

“Am I, though?”

You sharply inhale when you catch sight of his hard, dribbling cock. He slowly strokes his length, his crystalline eyes boring into yours. There’s a small twinkle of mischief that pangs against the surface of his eyes, begging to be let out as you gawk at him. Precum spills over his knuckles and spatters across your pelvis with each shallow thrust of his hand.

Licking your lips, you cast your gaze upwards, “J'ai besoin de toi,” he mutters with a haggard breath of his own, “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You shake your head, feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Well, you do.”

“Maybe … Maybe, I should do something about that then?” You suggest, reaching out to encase his hand within yours.

Wriothesley snorts a bit as he chuckles in agreement, “You should.”

Paying no mind to the small wince that he attempts to disguise with a throaty grunt, you wrap your fist around his cock. It throbs in your hold, a few more beads of precum flicking onto your belly.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise as you dip your head down to press your pursed lips to the weeping, red tip, “So, very, sorry.”

“Are you? I think you could do a bit better.”

Humming in contemplation, you squeeze the base of his dick, slowly allowing your tongue to loll out from between your lips to lick at his sweat salted skin. Wriothesley’s nails dig into the worn fabric of the sofa behind your head. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex and throb in the corner of your eye. You nearly moan at the sight alone, his raw strength further stirring up the embers that crackled deep within your tummy. The musk of his sweat fills your nostrils, adding to the intoxicating, heady mixture of precum that dabbles your tongue.

He curses under his breath, tossing his head back as he groans. A bead of sweat dribbles down the column of his neck and gathers within the deep crevice of his collarbone. It was truly criminal that skipped out on so many of his boxing skirmishes. If you hadn’t, you might have realised how gorgeous Wriothesley truly was, ages ago.

Swirling your head around the sensitive tip of his cock, you slowly guide his length into your mouth. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes as your mouth stretches to accommodate his girth.

“That’s it, fucking take it.”

Wriothesley’s eyes roll back into his head for a moment before they’re settled back onto the sight of you swallowing his cock down into your mouth. The intensity that glimmers amongst them makes you squirm, a whimper gathering in the back of your throat. The vibration around his length stirs forth another set of moans that tumble past his lips to form a twinkling melody of music for your ears.

Your hand strokes his shaft, accommodating whatever you struggle to fit into your mouth. The tips of your fingers stroke at the bulbous knot that sits at the base of his cock and occasionally his full, tender balls. You can feel him twitch in your mouth when you focus your efforts on his head, your lashes fluttering to blink away the tears that have continued to pool along your lash line.

“So fucking good,” he grumbles, his chest rumbling with each syllable, “Archons above … I need to be inside of you.”

Wriothesley decides at the drop of a hat. You whine at the loss of weight and warmth filling your mouth when he swiftly pulls away to settle between your spread thighs. His tail tickles your bare skin as he shoves his muscular, scarred arms beneath your torso to press your chest against his. You can’t help but giggle when his thick, scraggly chest hair grazes against your nipples. His stubbly cheek rubs your jaw and neck raw as he settles his face in the crevice.

“Please,” you croak with wanton need, “Please, fuck me.”

His free hand snakes between your bodies. Wriothesley cups your quivering cunt, the heel of his palm grinding into your clit as he sinks a finger into your weeping hole.

Your jaw falls slack as pleasure courses through your veins, “Be patient,” he laughs, his fanged teeth nipping at your shoulder, “I’ve gotta stretch you open first, fuck, you’re so wet for me.”

“Mhm, all for you.”

The rough material of the sofa rubs uncomfortably against your skin as you shift to bring Wriothesley closer to you, but you don’t care. Any of the day's worries slip between your fingers like the sand on the beaches of Yaoguang Shoal where you spent your youth splashing around without a care. Desire pools beneath your bodies and bathes your tangled limbs in liquid gold. It washes away your gathered worries and fears, leaving your body prickled in warmth.

You think there’s irony in the magnetic heat that flickers in and out between where your flesh meets his, being so deep beneath the ocean’s surface that the walls were often cold to the touch. He was cold to the touch, constantly shrouded in elemental residue from his frigid cryo vision.

Sweat dribbles down your brow, the apples of your cheeks burn.

“Oh yeah?”

Your vision blurs for a moment as you nod your head. Wriothelsey’s hair hands limply around his face, it brushes against your forehead when he dips his head to take in the sight of your puffy, wet pussy.

“Yeah.”

It’s cloyingly sweet, the lilt of your voice. You nearly choke on it. Goosebumps follow in the wake of the blanket of embarrassment that flew over you. He pays the way you nervously chuckle no mind, instead cradling the side of your face as he stretches you open with another finger.

“I want more,” you moan between pursed lips, your eyelids fluttering shut, “I can take it.”

The rough pads of his fingers and the stretch just barely satiated your appetite but, your palate had been wet by bulbous knot that teasingly sat pressed against your thigh.

Wriothesley presses a kiss to your sweat dabbled hair line, “I know ya can,” he murmurs, licking his lips as your body trembles beneath him, “But just let me be a gentleman, huh?”

“The gentlemanly thing to do would fuck me instead of making me beg for it.”

“Begging?” That sparks his interest, there's a devilish twinkle in his eye, “I didn’t know begging was on the table.”

Pleasure ripples through you as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit at just the right angle, causing your head to spin with wanton need.

“It’s not, I have enough self respect not to beg for cock.”

“Do you though?”

His smirk makes your need triple in size which in turns makes this game all the more maddening. You question it yourself– your resolve, you already asked politely but were you above begging. If you ruminate on the thought any longer you might’ve just found the answer to be no.

Wriothesley complies nonetheless, giving your pussy a few firm, wet slaps before slipping his hand upward toward your pubic bone. His fingers leave a trail of your arousal on your skin, it dries quickly and leaves you shivering from the cold. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he strokes his cock. Precum oozes out, flicking onto the sofa cushions. Your throat bobs as you swallow, a bundle of nerves gathers at the centre of your chest as he presses the tip of his cock against your pussy. Your cunt squelches lewdly as he slides his length between your sticky folds, light grazing your clit before he settles against your hole.

“Hurry up!” You find yourself saying though your stomach remains clenched in anticipation.

Rolling his eyes, Wriothesley shakes his head, “You have to savour it.”

Still, you feel your cunt stretch open to accommodate the girth of his dick. Your jaw falls slack as the wind is knocked out of your lungs, his visage is a mirror image. Not in mockery, but in relief. A satisfied sigh passed Wriothesley’s split lips as he slowly pushed his cock in deeper.

Wriothesley winces as you dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders, you sigh at the sight of his tensed expression, “Come now push yourself too hard,” you gasp between two wanton moans, “If you do that means I’ll have to patch you up again, would you really want to punish me with more work?”

Your taunts are cut short but a shudder that wracks through your body as he bottoms out. His thick knot teases your whole, just barely stretching you out before Wriothesley begins to thrust. Your nose brushes against his as he leans down, lips ghosting over yours.

“Either way you’ll do it with a smile,” he muses, pecking you on the mouth, “And say “Yes sir””.

You would.

You liked your job and were all too happy to work when needed even at the cost of your own sanity.

“Whatever,” you snip, burying your face into his shoulder blade to hide your smile.

Heat laps at your core, trickling into your chest. It leaves you hot all over. Your cunt throbs with need as you inch closer to orgasm. His cock feels like it’s in your stomach, the fat head uncomfortably kisses your cervix with each shallow thrust.

Pressing your teeth into the firm muscle of his shoulder, you allow a squeal to roll through your throat. You can feel yourself gushing around his length as he mercilessly bullies that spongy spot deep inside you. Warmth coats the apples of your cheeks as the cushion beneath your ass soaks up your juices.

“Je suis à toi,” Wriothesley hisses into your hairline.

The sofa's wooden arm crackles within the palm of his hand as he roughly grips it for purchase. Your heart leaps, there’s something oddly thrilling about the display of raw strength, you’re hardly pressed to consider the fact that the Fortress couldn’t afford to replace it.

Your hands drift upward to tangle into his sweat soaked strands of hair. Your fingers twist the locks between them.

“Tire-moi les cheveux!”

Wriothesely’s chest rumbles as he moans, his rhythm faltering slightly when you unabashedly yank at his tresses, “Harder,” you whimper, your shoulders shaking as pleasure thrums through your veins, “Please Wrio, I need it.”

You can feel yourself teetering on the precipice of orgasm, his sweat is dappled upon your tongue.

“Et t'as l'air bien, tu te sens bien.”

“Wha-”

Your confusion is cut off by a moan which is then followed by a flurry of curses that you didn’t know you had in you. The obscene sound of wet skin slapping together smothers any other questions that may dare to dribble down your lips.

You choke on a gasp as your orgasm washes over you, much like the first time you dove into the frigid waters in search for your place of employment. You’re dunked in a disorienting sea of cold that electrifies every nerve ending in your body. Tremors wrack through your spine and your eyes roll back into your head before you force them shut.

“Wrio,” you moan, your nails clawing at his scalp.

His tail curls possessively around your thigh, snaking its way around your hip to the small of your back. The sofa creaks, scraping loudly across the roughed hardwood floors as Wriothesley’s thrust takes on a new vigour. The hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as his claws tear through the fabric behind your head.

“I want you to knot me!”

Wriothesley’s head bobs in what you assume to be agreement, “Je suis à toi,” he repeats, more to himself than to you.

Your lungs burn from how you hold the air in the centre of your chest, your lips rounded and jaw locked as Wriothesley slowly pushes his knot into you. He growls when your nails break skin as you claw at the nape of his neck. The tinges of pain slowly dissipate with each passing, excruciatingly long second. Your walls flutter, struggling to accommodate for the instruction.

“Fuck,” you curse, your chest heaving as you such in a ragged breath.

Wriothesley all but collapses on top of you with one last week thrust before he cums. His stubbly jaw scratches at your skin as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Though his knot is supposed to plug your hole up, you can feel some of his thick, sticky cum oozing out of your cunt and lathing across his pelvis.

“What did it mean?” You ask once you’ve regained your breath, your words slightly minced from how your cheek laid flat against his broad shoulder.

“Hm?”

Pausing to lick your chapped lips you wildly gesture around his back though he can’t see you, “The Fontainian, what did it mean?” you clarify, “You said quite a lot.”

“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.”

His blaisé tone has those familiar embers of annoyance flickering to life though you were too exhausted to argue. The fur of his tail drags uncomfortably against your sweat damp skin as he possessively holds you close.

“You know me, I always worry.”

“You don’t need to,” he reassures, planting a kiss to your neck, “Everyone adores you.”

It’s almost second nature the way you roll your eyes and huff.

“At least I do.”

#wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x you #gi x reader #gi smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader

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writingforstraykids · 7 months ago

Text

Keep it together

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 2199

Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤

Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home.

You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties.

Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it.

And all you wanted was him.

A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids.

Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…

You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied.

Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.

Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…

As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest.

You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you.

But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied.

“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned.

Strange.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.

Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?

“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..

He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes.

“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze.

He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time.

“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms.

Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”

“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms.

The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”

“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately.

“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”

You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely.

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”

“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.

Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back.

You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee”

“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage.

But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”

“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago.

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