#but also it somehow... brings into light her feelings...
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d-emeter · 15 hours ago
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Secret Santa on base (but the entire 141 is desperate to pull you) — plus-size!fem!reader x task force 141
CW: christmas (?), the boys being a little bit creepy but they're just in love leave them be, allusions to sexual activity
So this somehow ended up from Laswell's pov for the most part lol but it switches to reader for the end! Also happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! <3
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When Laswell had brought up the idea of doing a secret santa on base — well, it had been her wife who said they needed some more holiday cheer, and who was she to deny that? — she had not expected it to become something akin to a battlefield. Maybe she should have known better, the soldiers surrounding her were competitive by nature. Winning was always the main goal.
But this time, there was no enemy to defeat, no intel to gain, no hostage to save. No, this time, you were the objective. Laswell was not stupid, in fact, it was her job to be observant, to figure out that which others could not. And to her, Task Force 141 was an open fucking book.
It was in the way Price would leave his hand on your shoulder after offering you an encouraging pat, and how that hand would move lower down your arm or back while he talked to you. It was in the way Ghost would always prepare an extra cup of tea to bring to early morning briefings, trying to subtly push it your way while you were rubbing at your eyes. It was in the way Gaz would lean over you when you asked him to come look at something on your laptop, arms on either side of you and practically caging you in. It was in the way Soap would always find a way to touch you, without fail, calling you 'bonnie' or 'love' in that obnoxious Scottish accent as he threw an arm over your shoulders. It was especially in the way the other three would scowl at whoever had your attention for the moment. It was clear as fucking day — they all wanted you.
Laswell knew this and, in hindsight, should have taken that into account when organizing the gift exchange. This realization came when Price knocked on her door just after the announcement had made the rounds. He had inquired if she was going to be the one to select the secret santa's, and if he could maybe take a look with her — just to make sure they weren't pairing up people that disliked eachother and causing issues, he explained. When she told him no, some random online generator would do just fine, Kate got her confirmation that he was lying about his motives — she'd never seen the captain look that disappointed.
After the secret santa's had been given out, she realized that maybe it was time to do some damage control. She had walked into the rec room to find Gaz grilling everyone in there on who they pulled, seeming more agitated each time they did not answer with what he wanted to hear. A few hours later, he had apparently found the one he was looking for, as Laswell overheard someone talking about how Sergeant Mactavish had offered the person in question nearly 100 bucks to switch. Then the report came in about Lieutenant Riley threatening that very same person, and Laswell had had enough.
REMINDER: SECRET SANTAS ARE FINAL AND CANNOT BE EXCHANGED.
She pretended not to hear the huffing from Price as he read the email she had sent around.
Kate had hoped the situation had been subdued with that, yet still couldn't shake the weird feeling in her underbelly when the base christmas party came around. Everything seemed fine, at first; there stood a sadly decorated plastic tree in the corner, lights were strung up around the room and the secret santa table was overflowing with badly wrapped gifts. Everything would be fine, right?
Wrong.
You had been excited about the gift exchange. It was a fun way to interact with some of your coworkers that you hadn't done so with yet, and you had always liked giving out presents. You tried not to beam too bright when Kate unwrapped the gift you had got her, and got up excitedly when your name was called. It was nothing special, really; a cute mug with a bar of chocolate inside, courtesy of some random private you had never really had the chance to talk to. You were grateful nonetheless.
But then your name was called again. And again. And again. The flush of embarrassment grew with each one. By the end of the night, you had five gifts in total, somehow. The second gift was a bottle of perfume, and you had to stifle a gasp as you saw the brand — it had to have been close to three figures in price. You tentatively spray some on your wrist, and- Hadn't you smelled something similar on Gaz when he greeted you earlier?
The third gift was a basket filled with goodies; all your favourite sweets and snacks, a pair of fuzzy socks, a book you had had on your wishlist for a while, and, wait, was that..? You're so preoccupied with using the socks to hide the box of XXL condoms that you don't notice how Ghost's fingers move to adjust himself in his pants.
You start to feel really flustered when your fourth gift is handed to you, trying not to flounder under all the stares you're getting. The box looks expensive, and reveals a gorgeous pearl necklace when you open it — God, that must've been at least triple the given budget. You have to hide the added note from view when you read it: 'Just a placeholder until I can give you a pearl necklace of my own -S'.
You don't even open the fifth gift, choosing instead to quickly accept it and ushering the announcer into calling the next name. You feel a little faint when you actually open it once you're in the privacy of your room — it's a fucking vibrator. The little instruction manual says something about it being remote controlled — so where is the controller?
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suzukiblu · 3 days ago
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WIP excerpt for lottie behind the cut; “a pocketful of Kons”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
Star chirps encouragingly at Stud and starts to glow with solar light again, and Stud peeks up hesitantly over Tim’s shoulder for a moment, looking–uncomfortable, somehow, but almost immediately dives back down at the sight of Charger still in close with Flash. Admittedly, the “whole-ass adult” thing is weird and uncomfortable, but Stud hasn’t been acting concerned about that so far, and previous behavior indicates that it’s more likely that Charger trying to engage with him was what made him nervous. Which is, again, not something Tim understands coming from the incorrigible flirt of a soulmate he apparently has, but still seems like the likelier cause of Stud’s reaction all the same. 
He’d really prefer his soulmate were more concerned about the age difference issue, considering, but apparently that’s not a thing.
So he's not sure how he feels about that, considering.
Charger coos in Stud’s direction, and Saffie and Singsong both make little cooing noises of their own, and Tim only just manages to repress the frown this time. They sound like they’re trying to coax out a skittery pet or a shy kid, not . . . 
Stud peers back up over Tim’s shoulder, still hesitant but a little less uncomfortable-looking this time, and Charger makes an encouraging noise and holds her arms open. Stud stares at her for a second, then bolts the distance between them and wraps himself around her. Given he’s Superman-sized and she’s Linda Park-sized–comparatively, anyway–it looks kind of ridiculous, but Tim’s just not gonna comment on that. 
Charger squeaks smugly, wrapping her arms around Stud in return and reaching up to ruffle his hair, and then chitters impatiently back towards the table. Saffie bursts into violet light and snatches up Singsong, and the two of them fly over together to pile on top of Flash’s shoulder and clutter it up. 
“Okay, sure, guess I’m the Pocket party place right now,” Flash says with a snort. Star very clearly decides that counts as an invite, because she chirps excitedly and immediately scoops up Cat to fly over with her too. She doesn’t try to bring Red along, but Red does not appreciate flying Air Star, so Tim’s not surprised by that one. 
That is a lot of Pockets all jostling for position on the very limited real estate of Flash’s shoulder right now, though. 
“That was a joke, oh my god,” Flash groans, leaning his head to one side to keep out of the Pockets’ way and half-lifting his hands as he very obviously attempts to figure out how to keep any of them from falling off him while also mostly-smothered in them. “Nightwing, oh my god help.” 
“Naw, looks like you got it, party place,” Dick replies with a snicker, and Flash shoots him a very accusing look. 
“Oh, he thinks he’s funny,” he says. “Listen, buddy, let’s see how you–” 
Dick cuts him off as brutally as possible, meaning he cuts him off by holding up Red to be annexed into the Pocket-pile on his shoulder, smiling blithely the whole time. The other Pockets all cheer excitedly and envelope her into their tiny crowd, chair and all. Flash shoots Dick a very accusing glare this time, which as an expression is a little bit undercut by Star sitting half-on his head and Singsong balancing herself with an arm around one of the lightning bolts on his cowl and dragging it down an inch or so to one side, mask and all. 
“Not sorry,” Dick says just as blithely. 
“You should be,” Flash says witheringly. 
“Mmmmm, naw, not feelin’ it,” Dick replies with an easy shrug, then flashes him a teasing grin. “Anyway, you’re doing great, man, you haven’t dropped anybody!” 
. . . actually, Tim thinks belatedly, that’s . . . weird, isn’t it. Dick isn’t really looking at the Pockets’ positions as he says that, but he is, and Cat and Red are both way too precariously-balanced to actually be managing the perches that they’re sitting in–and Cat might like to take risks, but Red isn’t interested in wasting time on impracticality. And Saffie barely looks like she’s even standing on Flash’s shoulder at all, but also looks like she isn’t using her ring at all. 
So . . . what the hell, exactly? 
“I’m going to drop specifically Star and Red, actually–” Flash starts to threaten, and then hisses through his teeth as Red leans back in her chair just enough to jab her elbow right into the pulse point in his throat. “Ow.” 
“You deserved that,” Dick informs him, still grinning at him and entirely unsympathetic. 
“Yeah, I did,” Flash sighs resignedly, and then the door opens again and Captain Marvel leans into the room, looking really confused. 
“Flash, Green Lantern says–” Captain Marvel starts to blurt, then sees the currently-present Green Lantern at the table, also sees Dick and Tim, and then rephrases with–“not-this-Green-Lantern says he needs you down in meeting room 4. Um, Max Mercury called, there’s something, uh, kinda . . . weird going on with Impulse, I guess? Like, important-weird?” 
“That friggin’ kid always has the worst timing, I swear,” Flash says in exasperation, half-covering his face with a hand. The pile of Pockets on his shoulder rearranges itself a little for probably balance or comfort reasons, and Captain Marvel glances towards them and then–blinks, and looks puzzled. 
“Oh, they’re already here?” he asks in surprise, then looks around the room and frowns. “Or . . . not?” 
“What?” Flash asks blankly, and Captain Marvel points at his shoulder. 
“That’s Impulse’s Pocket, isn’t it?” he asks, and everyone in the room . . . pauses. “So where’s he?”
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lacydollette · 3 days ago
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BLESSING IN DISGUISE — CHAPTER SIX
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PAIRING rafe cameron x lovely kook!reader x jj maybank
WARNING(S) trauma, flashbacks, alcohol, mentions of drug abuse, verbal fights, rafe being a dick, suggestive content, explicit language, angst, slight fluff between reader and jj
SUMMARY after days of painful silence, with Rafe pulling away and you still drowning in the aftermath of the incident, the annual bonfire becomes the breaking point. unable to hold back any longer you confront him, but rafe’s cold, detached demeanor cuts deep, leaving your heart in pieces.
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“Waah, john b stop!!” Sarah screeched as her boyfriend chased after her, running around the sand like little kids. Oh, they were so in love. jj was nursing on a half-empty beer bottle leaning back in the sand like he didn’t have a care in the world. Everyone looked relaxed, like the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on their shoulders.
Everyone except you.
You sat a little off to the side, poking at the sand with a stick, dragging lazy patterns that the waves would eventually wash away. Your head felt fuzzy, likeyou were watching everything through a haze, the sounds of Sarah’s giggles and crashing waves muffled and far away. You knew you should be here, should be present, but you weren’t . You were somewhere else—thoughts still messy after the incident with Nate a few nights ago.
Of course the lack of your usual sunshine smile and teasing behavior didn’t go unnoticed, reverting back to the pogues questioning you and asking if you were really okay. You weren’t. But somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to them about it. Cause if you were to talk about it, you also had to talk about Rafe. And you couldn’t.
It wasn’t fair, but your brain kept circling back to him. The way he’d looked at you that night, torn between fury and guilt, like the whole thing was his fault. And maybe it was, in some sick and twisted way, but you couldn’t let yourself go there. Not again.
Suddenly jj’s smooth voice broke through your dissociative haze, “Yo, earth to y/n,” his laugh cutting through your spiraling thoughts like a knife. You blinked, looking up just in time to see him toss a beer to john b, who caught it with a slick motion. JJ’s grin was infectious, his whole face lighting up like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. For a second, you felt your lips twitch, almost smiling. Almost.
“You good over there, sunshine?” JJ asked, leaning back on his elbows to look at you, his blue eyes practically glowing under the late afternoon sun. “You’ve been, like, a hundred miles away all day.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess.”
JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He pushed himself up, brushing the sand off his hands as he scooted closer, closing the distance between you until he was right next to you. “Tired? Or, like, tired tired?”
“What’s the difference?” You asked, your voice coming out sharper than you meant it to. JJ didn’t flinch, though. He just tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t figure out. His hand brushed against your knee—not in a creepy way, just JJ being JJ, always touchy, always close. And usually, you didn’t mind. But today, it made your skin prickle, like you were too aware of everything.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer this time. You forced a smile, knowing he wouldn’t let it go until you gave him something. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a huge fight with my parents yesterday. You know how it is.” JJ made a face, clearly skeptical but not wanting to push. “Parents suck,” he muttered, leaning back again. “Tell ‘em JJ Maybank says to chill out, or I’m coming over.”
That finally got a real smile out of you, small and fleeting, but real. JJ grinned, clearly proud of himself, before turning his attention back to sarah and john b. But even as the conversation shifted, as JJ joked and teased and kept the energy light, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being… disconnected.
It wasn’t just Nate, the incident or the weird distance you felt with your friends lately. It was Rafe.
You two hadn’t spoken since that night. Not a single text, not a glance, not even one of those tense run-ins you always seemed to have. He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d came, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t held you while you were shaking, hadn’t promised to keep you safe.
It hurt. And while you had slowly tried to piece yourself back together, he had distanced himself from you further.
Rafe thought it was his fault—just like he thought everything was his fault. The fight at Midsummers, the way you’d both blown up at each other, the reason you were even out that night in the first place. In his mind, he’d set the whole thing in motion, and now he was punishing himself for it.
The images were haunting him at night, you, crumpled in the dirt, nates bloody face gasping underneath him. The fear in your eyes. And worst of all—himself, standing there, realizing it was all his fault. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How it all traced back to him, like a sick domino effect.
He tried drowning his thoughts with the usual, alcohol and coke. It hit hard and fast, just how he liked it, but it didn’t do much to quiet the voice in his head—the one telling him that you’d be better off without him.
That was why he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t tried to see you since that night. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. God, he wanted to. Every time his phone buzzed, every time he heard a car door slam outside, his heart jumped, hoping it was you. But he didn’t deserve to see you.
Because this was just like before. Every time he got close to you, every time he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for you, he proved himself wrong. He was like poison, toxic and consuming, dragging you down with him no matter how hard he tried not to.
So, he stayed away. He told himself it was for your own good, that he was doing the right thing, even if it felt like hell. But the silence was unbearable. And that’s why he was going in and out of every bar on the island—spending almost every night in places like that, drowning in alcohol, drugs, and meaningless noise. He thought maybe if he leaned into the chaos hard enough, he could lose himself in it. He thought maybe he could forget. But it wasn’t working.
He couldn’t stop picturing the way you’d looked at him that night—so broken, so fragile, but still trusting him enough to let him carry you home. The way your hands had trembled as you patched up his knuckles, comforting him while you were the one hurting.
The way you’d pulled back, hesitated, like you didn’t know if you could let him in again. And who could blame you? He’d screwed up too many times to count. He wasn’t sure why you’d ever let him in to begin with.
He hated himself for what had happened to you, hated himself for not being there sooner. But mostly, he hated that even after everything, some selfish part of him still wanted you.
Wanted to see you, to hold you, to tell you he’d do better this time—even though he didn’t know if he could. But that part of him was buried under the guilt, the anger, the deep rooted belief that he didn’t deserve you. That he never had. So, he stayed here in the dark, hiding between drinks and strangers, telling himself it was better this way.
For you. For both of you. Even if it was killing him.
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the gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you walked to the annual bonfire, the kind of event that blurred the lines between Kooks and Pogues. It was the one night that made everyone forget the labels, at least for a little while. You were standing with the Pogues, tucked close to JJ as his arm casually looped around your shoulders. His warmth was comforting, familiar even, and for the first time today, you let yourself relax into it.
But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the moment—on JJ’s laugh echoing through the crowd or Kie’s attempts to roast a marshmallow without setting it on fire—your eyes kept wandering, scanning the crowd like your body couldn’t help but search for him.
Where is he?
You told yourself you were just curious. That’s all it was. But deep down, you knew better. It was like he’d vanished entirely, except you could still feel the weight of him pressing against your chest every time you closed your eyes.
And then you saw him.
Rafe was standing near the edge of the crowd, a bottle in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. He looked the same but different—his jaw tense, his shoulders hunched like he was holding something back. And just then eyes caught yours across the fire, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Every part of Rafe screamed at him to stay away, to let you have the life you deserved, but when your pretty doe eyes pierced through his, the air was sucked from his lungs. For a moment, everything else disappeared—the music, the voices, even the ache in his chest. All he could see was you.
You felt your body temperature rise, cheeks burning up. The pull of him was undeniable. It always was. You needed to talk to him.
“I’m gonna grab a beer,” you mumbled to the group, pulling away from JJ’s arm. “I’ll come with you,” the blonde offered, his voice easy, like he didn’t notice the shift in you. “No, I’m good. Be right back.” JJ shrugged, distracted by Pope’s latest story, and you slipped away before anyone could stop you.
Your feet carried you in the direction of Rafe, each step faster than the last. By the time you found him, he was leaning against the side of a column. Yet you hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach as you reached closer.
“Rafe,” you said, your voice cutting through the noise of the bonfire behind you. His eyes flicked to yours, forcing his features into something cold, detached, hoping it would keep you at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Why are you hiding out over here?” He let out a hollow laugh, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. Your boldness had always disarmed him, even now. Especially now. “Not hiding. Just avoiding the circus.”
“Avoiding me, you mean.”
Rafe’s jaw tensed, his gaze dropping to the ground. Don’t do this. Don’t let her in, he thought. “Maybe you should take the hint.” His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. “You don’t get to do this, Rafe. You don’t get to disappear and act like nothing happened.”The flash of hurt in your eyes nearly killed him, but he held firm. Better to push you away now, before he dragged you down with him.
“Nothing did happen,” he snapped, the lie lingering bitter on his tongue as he was still avoiding your eyes.
“What is your problem, Rafe?” you sighed, the frustration in your voice obvious. “One day you promise me that you’ll keep me safe, that you would stay by my side and now you can’t even look at me?”
Rafe laughed, but it wasn’t the kind you remembered. It was bitter, empty. “Look who’s talking. You seemed pretty cozy with jj back there.” He hated the words even as he said them, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was easier to let anger take over than to admit the truth—to admit he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you.
Your mouth fell open, stunned by his accusation. “Are you serious right now? JJ’s my friend. He’s just—”
“Sure he is,” Rafe cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “this is how you thank me? By fucking around with a Pogue?” Your chest tightened, tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “Go to hell, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.
But then you noticed it—the red rim around his eyes, the way his body trembled faintly like he was barely holding himself together. It wasn’t just the alcohol in his hand. He was using again, spiraling. But before you could say anything, JJ’s voice cut through the tension. “Hey! What the hell are you doing talking to her?”
You turned to see JJ storming toward you, his face dark with anger. He stepped between you and Rafe, his chest puffed out like he was ready to fight. “Back off, JJ,” Rafe said, his voice low but dangerous. “Or what?” JJ snapped, his fists clenching at his sides, “She’s with us now. Stay the fuck away from her.”
“y/n is not a damn possession,” Rafe snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”
“Oh, and you do?” JJ sneered. “At least I don’t fuck up everyone I get close to.” The words hit their mark. Rafe’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, his voice trembling with barely-contained rage. “You don’t know anything about me, Maybank.”
“Yeah? I know enough,” JJ shot back. “Like how you treat everyone like shit, especially the people who actually care about you.” Rafe wanted to hit back, to make JJ feel even a fraction of the pain he carried every second. But then your voice cut through the chaos.
“Enough!” you shouted, stepping between them, trying to cut the tension between the boys while no one seemed to notice the rising tension between you and Rafe except Sarah, who was standing a little further away, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold.
Rafe turned his attention back to you, his face twisting with anger and something deeper—something like pain. “You don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice cracking. “You’d be better off without me.”He saw the way his words cut you, saw the way you fought to keep your composure, not being able to look away from him. But it was true. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. And the only way to protect you was to keep you as far away from him as possible.
“Let’s go,” JJ said, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “He’s not worth it.” You let JJ pull you away, your mind spinning as Rafe’s words echoed in your ears. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught one last glimpse of him—standing alone, his body stiff like he was trying to hold himself together.
Sarah was looking at you as you returned, her brows furrowed as she pieced everything together. You knew she’d ask questions later, but for now, you let JJ lead you back to the group, his warmth steadying you even as your heart ached for the boy you couldn’t seem to leave behind.
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LINKS .ᐟ series’ masterlist
TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @littlelamy @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @starzify @rafeysbunny @rafeslacy @whinyangel @dolcekissy @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @drewspinkbunny @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @rafey-baby @cameronsprincess @maybanksbaby @nativegirltapes @lilithblackkk @maybankslover
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kawaii-queen-kaiju · 2 days ago
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Young and Learning
Part Two!
Riley bounded into the Wayne Manor kitchen, proud of herself. She’d utterly destroyed the punching bag. And sure, it wasn’t the reinforced ones that Bruce went through like toilet paper, but she’d only been at this kind of hardcore training for a couple months! And shit, was it hardcore. She knew the ‘Bat-training’ was intense; she and Babs, as the commissioner's daughter insisted she be called, had been training alongside each other, and lamented how harsh it was together jokingly. Jason had also often come to their meetups exhausted, but in a good way, with a smile on his face.
She sombered a little at the thought of her friend before shaking it off and thanking Alfred for the water bottle he’d given her. Jason was still a sore spot, for her and the people she’d surrounded herself with. The topic had prompted several screaming matches between her and Bruce while they were still trying to adjust - mostly her screaming and Bruce waiting for her to finish before leaving to the Cave to go through a few punching bags. Things had gotten better between them though.
At first, her mother had been hesitant to let her train with the man, the offer itself taking them both by surprise. 
When she’d found out Bruce’s identity through Jason, she had told her mother. Her mom had been surprisingly accepting of it, the revelation bringing together the few pieces hinting towards his identity left around through the years. Riley had also informed her of her intent to go out and fight - though, not the psychological warfare plan against Batman that she’d since abandoned.
So when Bruce showed up, intent on telling her mother what she was doing so she’d stop - something she’d been pissed at him for at the time, but came to see that he just wanted her to be safe - he was shocked to hear that her mom already knew.
Somehow, he’d left their apartment with a promise to give her proper training if she truly wouldn’t stop going out. Come to find out, that’s what the arrangement had been for both Dick and Jason, the stubborn bastards. (Babs and Alfred were the only sane ones, and even then, she was still intent on becoming a vigilante, though she gave herself a grace period for training, and the elder butler kept loaded shotguns around the house.)
She’d been scared to tell Bruce about her power - the ability to manipulate light, make it bright and searing - what with his ‘no metas’ rule. Turns out, his problem is with other established heroes, not just normal people who just happened to be born a certain way. He even came up with a routine to help train her ability itself!
It was… nice. When she told him she’d been Jason’s friend - best friend, even - he’d been shocked silent. She’d seen the emotion swimming in his eyes. The hug she gave him was a bit awkward, but she got the feeling he needed it.
Now, a few months later, she’d hesitate to call him a father figure, but only because of the negative connotation the word held for her. She had yet to meet Dick, but he and Bruce had been talking to each other more lately, most likely because of her presence.
Bruce hadn’t said anything about getting a new Robin, but she knew he’d heard the rumors going around. Surprising herself, she found that she thought Batman did better with a Robin. Past-her, the one still actively hating Batman for putting Jason in the situation he did, would tear her apart if she knew what she was thinking. But…
Bruce had been through some shit. His patience and self-control were thin, thinner than a man dealing with sadistic wackjobs oughta have. Having someone else on the field to watch out for, to care for… it gave him the resolve to hold firm to his morals. As a fifteen-year-old who had been on the streets looking for fights, a fifteen-year-old looking for a fight was not the best partner to have when dealing with said sadistic wackjobs, but Alfred had told her about how Dick tried to go out anyway, despite Bruce telling him ‘no’. Surprisingly, the smiley boy had been particularly violent after his parents’ murder.
After several years, he’d cooled off and gotten sick of being a sidekick and had gone off with other heroes’ teen support and formed his own team. It was shortly after that that he’d quit Robin altogether, becoming his own hero and moving, with Jason getting picked up shortly after that.
In all honesty, if Bruce asked her to be Robin next, she’d drop kick him. She knew the mantle was already one that got passed down but taking it up after Jason felt wrong. She’d already semi-developed her own vigilante identity, though she’d never thought too hard about a name.
She’d been turning one over in her head lately though. Batman, Robin, Batgirl, and Phoenix.
Didn’t sound half-bad.
~
Part Four!
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akai-anna · 4 months ago
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I'M FREAKING HYSTERICAL HOW RAN JUST DRAGS HIM AROUND LIKE A RAGDOLL, LIFTING HIM WITHOUT MEANING TO WHICh just further proves 2 things:
shinichi is fckin SMOL AND LIGHT
ran is freaking STRONG
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bellart · 20 days ago
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Does anyone else appreciate strawberry blond Jason Todd
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😭😭🤲🤲
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arolesbianism · 22 days ago
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Gotta love my favoritism being obnoxiously obvious in new game+ (Odile is not only present but also one of the major set pieces that Chou regularly visits every loop (Mira is also technically around in the house but she doesn't get monologued at by Chou so my point still stands))
#rat rambles#stars posting#new game+#odile is mega cursed tho. like girlie was under the curse before the loops even started which is like first few weeks of the light existing#chou stumbles across her while hiking by themself and takes note of her since she clearly hadn't been found by anyone yet#most cursed ppl are kept track of and regularly checked in on by loved ones or volunteers#and pretty much all of them have various gifts and supplies left by them especially if theyre far from the nearest town or are hurt#odile was both so the fact that she hadnt been found yet was extremely concerning especially given she had previously tumbled down the#mountain a bit before settling in her perch to be frozen#so there's a whole side quest line abt trying to get the volunteers from the nearest town to make the treck out there and seeing if anyone#knew her somehow and then eventually giving up on all of that and just bringing supplies themself#and after all that they build a routine of bringing gifts when around that point and talking about their recent efforts one sidedly#they know she cant hear them so its the closest thing they have to being able to talk about any of this with someone#theres also some ideas and themes going on with the their relationship and perception of her but I dont feel like going into it rn#just know its Way more than the other 3 modern party members get lol#isa and bonnie dont even get cameos rip#although if it makes you feel better bonnie and nille are probably doing relatively fine#isabeau mightttt have been cursed but he could also just as easily not have been it doesnt rly matter#mira is also super cursed tho wrong place wrong time unfortunately
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writersdrug · 5 months ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:
In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."
Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.
Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.
Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.
Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.
Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.
Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.
Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.
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quimichi · 4 months ago
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˚ ✦ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐃 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔  .  * 
WARNINGS: skin to skin contact, cuddling, it's all fluff but yk, pet names, light NSFW, I apologize if my view of these characters do not line up with yours or they may seem inaccurate, this is a mess btw, + lazy editing
SUMMARY: The love of their life/favorite person (you) graced them with love, affection and skin to skin contact...
CHARACTERS: Everyone x F!Creator Reader
WORD COUNT: 20.680
A/N: This was written before Natlan came out soo no Natlan characters yet. Also, the platonic parts are shorter. I unfortunately can't add more tags, they somehow stopped.
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Aether
Aether is all too happy to spend his time with you on the cliffside; he leans against you, his head resting idly against your shoulder. Whenever he speaks, his breath would brush against your neck, tickling you gently. He is practically melting against you; he’s like a clingy cat, enjoying every second your warm skin touches his. "I've missed you," he says softly, lifting his head to gaze up at you with a dreamy smile.
You can't help but chuckle, "Understandable, you're barely by my side. You always end up traveling over Teyvat." Aether’s expression softens. He looks a little guilty when you bring up travelling, but his arms tighten around you, pulling his body a little closer.
”I know I’m always off adventuring…but I always come back to you. I always come back to you.” He pauses, and then he smiles a little wider. He seems cheeky when he adds: ”You do remember that, right?”
You pinch his cheek, such a brat sometimes. Aethers face scrunches up as you gently pinch his cheek. He looks disgruntled for a few moments, before he grins. His expression becomes warm and soft when he returns to the conversation. ”Well, as long as you remember,” he says with a smile. His gaze flits to the side for a moment, as he looks up at the sky; the sun is setting, casting warm light upon the landscape. He shivers.
”It’s getting cold.” he grins again, before he nestles himself comfortably against you. He wraps his arms around your midriff, trying to pull you closer.
”And you’re so warm,” he mutters, burying his face against you. He’s enjoying this more than a little...
Albedo
He can't help it. He wraps his arms around you, clinging to you almost desperately. He doesn't care how it looks or how utterly pathetic he seems as he clings to you. "Your Grace..." he mumbles, shifting further to bury his head against your collarbone. His hold on you has grown almost like an iron grip, as though he expects you to vanish the second he lets go.
He seems terrified, in a way, of the thought that this is merely an ephemeral dream. That he'll wake up and find himself by his shrine in the cold with only a lingering memory of your warm touch. He fears that any second, you would pull away and he would be left empty and wanting more. Like an addict deprived of their fix, he fears and craves for your touch with his whole heart. "Hmm?" a hum escapes you as you mindlessly stroke his hair. Albedo's body seems to loosen like liquid as you stroke his hair. He leans against you, almost desperately soaking up the affection like an addicted man.
"Your Grace..." he mumbles again, shivering as you run your hands through his silky strands. The action is so simple, and yet he seems to relish in the feeling. His arms are still around you, and they tighten again as you stroke his hair. After being deprived of affection for so long, he can't help but cling to you as though you'll slip away the second he lets go.
"Please don't... leave, ever"
Amber
She sighs softly as ahe curls against you, he back against your chest. The sound of the breeze gently blowing the blades of the windmill makes her smile faintly, as her eyes flutter shut. Luckily it's night, or the people of Mondstadt would go wild over the fact that you would be here. Amber seems at peace like this, and she can't resist nuzzling into your neck. Her expression is soft and she hums quietly along with the sound of the windmill, the gentle breeze making her hair stir from its position.
“Your Grace?” she calls quietly, lifting her head up just enough to meet your eyes. "Hmm?" Amber hesitates, for a moment, before asking his next question quietly. “You… you said you love me too, when I told you I love you. Do you-“ she pauses, her voice cracking, and she has to force out the next few syllables, “do you really mean it?”
"Of course I mean it." Amber lets her head fall backwards against your chest again, her expression softening. A mixture of emotions flicker across hwr face, a look of relief, but also disbelief that this is all real, that you truly love her.
“Say it again, please?”
"I love you."
"...thank you, so much."
Al-Haitham
Al-Haitham has his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him close. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his, every breath you take a gentle reminder of your presence. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the scent that's so distinctly you. You feel his heart thudding against your back, but he seems otherwise still, holding you firmly and yet gently at the same time. Each breath he takes is shaky, as if he could shatter at any moment. His arms tighten around you, holding you so close that he's afraid he may be hurting you. But he can't help himself. You're here. You're in his arms, warm and close and alive.
He shuts his eyes, inhaling the scent of your hair. "Yours," he whispers quietly into your skin. "Hm? What?" you heard what he said, you just wanted him to say it again more clear. He feels your hum more than he hears it, the low rumble in your body reverberating through his own. Al-Haitham keeps his arms wrapped tightly around you, his body moulding itself around you.
He lifts his head, whispering into your ear, "I said, 'yours.'"
Every fiber of his being belongs to you, and he feels the need to remind you.
"Yours, and mine" he whispers again, pulling you closer.
Arlecchino
Her arms are wrapped around your naked body, her exposed chest warm against your back. Her head rests atop yours, arms curling around your body to hold you closer. She can feel your hair against her skin, and she breathes in your scent. It's so familiar to her. So perfect.
She holds you like she's worried you'll be snatched away from her. Arlecchinos breathing is slow and measured, matching the steady rhythm of the crackling fireplace. Her chest rises and falls against your back, a constant reminder of her presence.
With you in hwr arms, she feels whole. She presses her nose to your head again, inhaling.
"That was nice..." you whisper, snuggling into her chest more and closing your eyes, enjoying the peace and quite. Arlecchino lets out a quiet laugh, her breath ruffling your hair.
"It was beautiful," she agrees. "You are beautiful." She reaches down and brushes her fingernails along your skin, the tips moving down your arm, tracing patterns against your skin.
"No, it was prefect, just like you." She corrects herself.
Ayaka
Ayaka can barely believe it.
She's in your bed, in your arms, pressed against the very body she's worshipped for so long. For a few moments, she's simply frozen as her mind struggles to catch up. Ayaka knows she should speak or do something, but the feeling of your body next to hers is a sensation so completely foreign, she's utterly speechless. All of this is new— the soft press of your curves against her back, your breath by her ear..."Your hair is so soft, 'yaka" you whisper against her ear. Ayaka feels her face flush at your words. Her hands involuntarily clutch at the sheets, pulling at them as she struggles to not react to your touch— except...she loves it. She loves it more than anything.
Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to keep herself in control. She wants to give into you, lean back, let herself melt into you... but at the same time, she can't. She struggles to speak, managing to stutter out, "May I...turn around, please?"
You obviously give her permission. Ayaka lets out a soft breath, feeling it leave her lungs. At your affirmation, she turns around, finally facing you.
For a moment, Ayaka doesn't meet your eyes, she meets your lips. She's all too aware of how close you are to her, how her body presses against yours. She tries to still her heart, but the warmth of your skin burns through her clothes, leaving her senses overwhelmed.
"Your lips..."
Ayato - nah cause for some reason that's my fav??
He buries his face into your hair and sighs, his chest rising and falling against your back with the motion.
"You smell so sweet," he confesses. His nose brushes against the shell of your ear gently, as if afraid to break the spell. "Like you are heaven made flesh." You raise a skeptic eyebrow, "Heaven made flesh huh? The most accurate description I've heard all those millenia." "Heaven made flesh," he mumbles again, his arms pulling you in closer to him. His fingers dig into your sides, holding you tight.
He takes a deep breath, the scent of your hair filling his nostrils like a drug. "If my hands burn when they touch you, well," he says gently, "then it serves me right for having the arrogance to touch an angel." You roll your eyes, "Don't be ridiculous, you have never burnt yourself by touching me" "Don't I?" He teases, laughing gently along with you. He brushes his lips against your neck, his breath coming out as a warm shiver against your skin.
"I may not be physically burnt, but I feel the heat all the same," he whispers. "I feel the heat when you laugh, when you speak, when I look at you. You're my own personal inferno." "And you are water, pure and fresh. If I'm an inferno, you will evaporate." you add. He laughs softly against your skin. "What a beautiful way to describe me. Water. Fresh. Pure."
He smiles, pulling back ever so slightly. The hand at your waist wanders to your chin, lifting it so that he can look you in the eyes.
"A waterfall doesn't evaporate when it brushes against fire," he says, blue eyes sparkling. "It extinguishes it." You blink, once, twice, until you deadpan. "So you wanna kill me?" Ayato scoffs, pulling you in closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair once more.
"Of course not," he answers, his tone indignant. "I don't wish to kill you. I wish to drown you."
He chuckles at his own words, the sound full and rich against your ear.
"Together we boil?" You ask
"Together we boil."
Baizhu
Changsheng, the white-scaled serpent, rests herself in a loose coil around Baizhu's neck, draped across his broad shoulders. She lifts her head and flicks her tongue out, glancing at you with her slitted eye before settling back into her nap.
As for Baizhu himself, he remains tense and stock-still at your side. He is utterly stiff, as if afraid that if he moved, he would somehow lose your touch. "You should relax and take a rest. You've been working too hard lately." Changsheng nods, "You tell this idiot." Baizhu blinks as if he's trying to process your words. To suggest that he rests, especially in your presence, seems... almost disrespectful. But after a glance at your face, he swallows his protest, opting to give a small nod at your suggestion.
"As you wish," he replies after a moment's hesitation. He almost looks ashamed; almost as if not working and devoting his entire being to you at all moments is failing you. Baizhu remains silent as you run soft fingers through his hair. He seems almost afraid to move, to breathe, to break some unspoken rule regarding his position as your humble worshiper.
His eyes flutter shut as you idly toy with his hair, threading your fingers through the green locks and gently tugging. Even the small gesture is enough to almost send him to another world. He takes a careful, deliberate inhale, savoring the scent of your presence.
"Realxing can be nice", at this point he's already half asleep when he said that. But one is for sure fully awake now, "Been saying that since forever, but you never listen!" "Shh Changsheng."
Barbara - aged up
She is cuddling you so close she's practically molded to you, with her breathing and the beating of her heart syncing up to match your rhythm.
She nuzzles her head against yours, burying herself against you and breathing deep with an almost desperate need. It's as though she can't get enough of you, and as if you're the air she needs to breathe. "I… I love you," she murmurs, like a prayer. "Never leave me." With every word she says, Barbara holds you even closer to her. She craves your presence, your touch, and your words more than anything else in the world.
With each gentle whisper of 'never leave me,' she grips you tighter in her arms, burying herself against you like she wants to become one with your very being.
"You're everything," she whispers. "I want to be with you forever."
"Babs? Sing me a song, hm? The one I like so much, please." you ask of her as you let your finger run over her cheek. She nods, her breath leaving her in one soft, sharp exhale that sounds like a sigh. "Anything for you," she says fervently.
Barbara takes a moment, before she begins to sing a soft, beautiful song. Her voice is like the moon on a clear night, like the first flowers blooming after winter.
The song she sings is one of devotion and adoration, its lyrics promising the moon, the stars, and everything in between, but only if it meant she could spend an eternity with you.
Beidou
She had her head leaning comfortably against your side, one of her muscular arms curled around your waist. Her eyes were fixated on the sky, taking in the constellations. To her, there was nothing more beautiful than the celestial bodies scattered across the night sky. She lets out a dreamy sigh, enjoying the feeling of the cold breeze on her face.
"You know, I used to dream about the stars," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. "And what did you dream about?" You ask, genuinely interested. She usually never talk so dreamy like this. She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes still fixed on the stars above. Her arm tightens around your waist for a moment as she ponders over your question. Then, she answers in her usual low whisper.
"I used to dream about sailing the stars one day," she confesses. Her voice is soft and slightly wistful. She's clearly still imagining the dream she used to have. "I'd sail through the cosmos, visiting all the planets out there. I wanted— no, I needed—"
Her voice is quivering slightly. She seems embarrassed. "Hm?" Beidou hesitates for a moment, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. Then, in a slightly shaky voice, she continues.
"I wanted to find someone special out there, someone to be my light in the universe. Someone to shine above the stars themselves...But I think I already found it."
"Yeah, I think I did too."
Bennett - aged up
Bennett all but melts within your arms. He's practically boneless on the bed; like a puddle, he fits perfectly into your embrace, like a missing puzzle piece into the gaps within you. He's clingy, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, pressing himself against you as much as he can, wanting to feel you; to be with you.
His chest still aches from the wound he had received, but your presence alone is enough distraction. "I'm sorry for my...bad luck."
You look down at him, stroking his hair, "You can borrow my luck for tomorrow." Bennett looks up from your lap, his eyelashes fluttering softly as he considers your words. "Your luck?" he asks, his voice laced thick with surprise; he's never heard of someone sharing their luck before. Bennett's mind races as he considers this.
"I-I could borrow your luck, your Grace?" he murmurs, as if he's afraid of offending you. You can't help but hold back a giggle, how cute he is sometimes. "Always, everyday. Just promise me you take care. Maybe it'll balance your bad luck out a bit." Bennett inhales— his breath shaky. He doesn't understand why you're being so kind to a lowly creature like him, but you're giving him your luck, of all things. You're sharing your luck.
He knows that the chances of him getting hurt tomorrow are exponentially smaller now, but he can't help but worry— the fact you're giving him something as personal as your luck is overwhelming enough, and he's unsure how to respond.
"...Thank you," he whispers reverently. "Thank you so much...my love."
Capitano - shiny daddy in the house omg
Capitano continues to run his fingers through your hair, his fingers gentle and soft as if he was afraid that he would accidentally pull on a strand of your hair if he wasn't careful.
There's an almost reverent sense to his touch, as if he was a devoted priest and you the god he worships. His cold, gold gaze seems to hold a strange gentleness to it, and there's an almost tender look in his eyes that is unusual for the stoic war crazy man. (Lol)
"You seem relaxed...Cap." a teasing smile creeping on your face at the name. "Mm," Capitano hums in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.
"Your presence is... calming," he admits. His voice is deep and rich, making the statement sound more like a declaration of love than mere words. "It... brings me peace."
As though he was a loyal dog, he seeks your touch as he pulls you closer; shifting so that your body is almost laying on his. "I'm glad."
"Mm," Capitano's response this time is almost a low rumble. He closes his eyes, letting them shut in a rare moment of vulnerability. His arms wrap around you, almost pulling you over his body. If you listen closely, you can hear his breathing start to grow more relaxed, almost like a low, quiet purr.
It almost seems as if he's trying to keep you close, as though you might disappear at any moment. "Hmpf...maybe I'm going a bit too soft."
"Damn since when do you talk so much?"
"Hmpf."
Candace (ik the color is off, i accidentally deleted the name sooo yeah sry for my lazy fix)
While youe gaze is fixed upon her village, hers is fixed on you. She swallows, trying to force herself to keep calm. It's hard, with the way her heart seems to leap in her chest at your sheer closeness. The way the scent of your skin drifts to her nose, causing her breath to catch. Her mind is filled with thoughts she would never dare to speak aloud.
"Beautiful," she murmurs under her breath. Her eyes dart back to you, tracing up and down your form. She can't tear her gaze away from your face, completely caught in your spell.
"The village...or me?" Candace's breath catches in her throat as she hears your words. The teasing tone you speak with, knowing full well the effect it had on her. "Ah... I meant the village, Your Grace," she manages to stutter out, her voice breathless, a little hoarse.
She swallows, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "But you-" she takes a deep breath before she speaks, "you are far more alluring by far." Her eyes do not leave your form.
"I can only hope that my girlfriend finds me alluring." Candace flushes pink. "Of course," she can't help the way her gaze rakes up and down your form again, following each contour. Her mind races with thoughts. Of her hands tracing each curve, of her fingers trailing over your exposed skin...
Candace swallows, trying to control herself. She tries to force her eyes to look elsewhere, but they stubbornly refuse, glued to your figure.
"And I hope that you love me as much as I love you...my grace."
Charlotte
Charlotte’s expression is utterly blissed as she hugs you close to her chest, her arms wound tightly around your torso. The girl buries her face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your hair, and sighs contentedly. She doesn’t speak for a moment, instead choosing to relish and commit everything to memory; the warmth of your body against hers, you holding her close. "How was your latest article?" Your words came out more muffled than youd like to admit, due to her chest all around your face. Charlotte huffs a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling gently against your ear. She strokes your hair idly, the other hand tracing up and down your spine slowly.
"Hmm, it went well. Though that's not very surprising,” she says with a smirk. “I could have written about a rock and still gotten a raise; my editor is a hopeless simp, and has a massive crush on me.” Charlotte pulls back, her expression slightly amused. “I could flirt with him and write a shitty article, and he’d still be head-over-heels for me. Hell, the entire company wants me. I’m very charming like that,” she says smugly. "Don't let it go to your head." You warn her. “Oh, why not? I’m just stating facts.” Charlotte says, feigning an air of innocence. “I mean, who can resist me?” she laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
"Just joking." She says more calmly, "I love my job, I love Fontaine and I love you....and maybe I love fooling around with you a bit."
"Oh yeah you definitely do."
Chevreuse
Chevreuse's head rests on your lap, your fingers woven in her hair, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breaths slowly. Her mind is still working, still worrying over the case that has her so torn, and your fingers running over her scalp do little to help.
"It's hopeless..." she murmurs, her voice soft in the comfortable silence that has fallen over the room. "I don't know what I'll tell them when I finally have to admit this..." Her eyes are closed now, and her voice has grown quieter with each passing moment. The words leave her as if they're barely formed in her mind; you can hear the exhaustion that clings to her every syllable.
"I'm not any closer to finding them now than I was two months ago," she says bitterly. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't say anything else. There's no need; you can feel the anger bubbling up behind her sharp inhale.
"You'll find them, I know you will." "How do you know?" she snaps back. In spite of the short tone, though, her voice is lacking the harshness it normally has. Chevreuse is always like this when she's tired. Frustration, fear, pain-- it all comes out as anger. She buries her face against you, hiding in the crook of your neck. "Because no one is as good as you." you let your fingers run through her messy hair. "Stop complimenting me."
The words sound like an order, but there's no sharpness to her tone. No command, no firmness. It sounds more like a plea, a cry for help she won't say out loud.
"I can't think straight when you do that."
Childe
Childe is wrapped around you, clinging to you like a shadow, his head buried in the crook of your neck. He’s nuzzling your skin, pressing gentle kisses and murmuring against your ear. One arm is thrown around your waist, holding you tight.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “You’re all mine. My darling, my angel…”
You chuckle lightly, "Someone's possessive today." Childe nips your shoulder at your words, smiling against your skin. He shifts slightly, pressing himself even closer to you.
“Mm. Damn right, I am. No one can have you but me.” His hand runs up your side, drawing senseless patterns as he traces your curves. “You’re mine,” he repeats again, his voice hoarse. “All mine. No one gets to touch you. No one gets to look at you the way I do. No one is ever getting to put their hands on you like I do, no one gets to hear you make those pretty sounds for them—”
His hand tightens around your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. "Childe-!" Childe laughs a little when you warn him, though he does loosen his grip on you. “What?” he asks, his hand still roaming across your body, his touch both gentle and possessive.
“You don’t want me to mark you all over? Claim you for my own?” He pushes his luck and continues kissing your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of little love marks over your skin. “How could I let anyone else see you like this, hm?” he murmurs. “You look so pretty, all breathless and flushed under me. No one else gets to see you looking so nice and needy. But most importantly..."
"Hm?"
"No one gets the love from you like I do."
Chongyun - aged up
Chongyun relaxes against you. His head is leaned against your shoulder and his eyes are closed. The proximity to you is comfort and ecstasy in equal measures. He takes a deep breath as he takes in your scent, savouring it, relishing the fact that the two of you are so close.
"Can I ask a question?" His eyes are still closed; he's comfortable, but he wants something answered. "Hm?" You humm. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to phrase his question. "If it wouldn't offend you," he begins, his voice a little tentative, "I wanted to ask if…. I could call you something."
"Call me what?" You have patience, for him you always do. His face flushes a little pink. Suddenly, he can't look you in the eye, he instead stares at your shoulder as he tries to speak.*
"Well, like…" he pauses. "Like a term of endearment. Can I call you something like 'my love', for example?"
You laugh lightly, damn he's cute. "Of course you can." Chongyun's face reddens further, but it's out of flustered embarrassment, rather than anything else. A quiet sense of relief washes over him, and he relaxes, fully resting his head against your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your waist.
"My love," he says softly, testing the words on his tongue. It feels right; more than right, it feels perfect. It feels like the universe aligning. Finally.
"My love…"
Clorinde
Clorinde is curled up against you, pressed as close to you as is physically possible. Even now, it does not feel close enough. She buries her nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. A contented hum bubbles up from her throat, a soft, low sound of approval. The perfume you gave her lingers in her hair, on her skin.
She savours the feeling. Savours the fact it is YOU who gave it to her.
"I thought something subtle is to your liking. It's a special made perfume just for you, dear." "Mm." Clorinde nods softly, shifting a bit. She adjusts herself in your arms, her cheek resting against your chest, ear laid atop your heartbeat. It's steady and soothing; she could easily fall asleep to the sound.
"Like an aphrodisiac." She mutters, the words mumbled against your skin. "No doubt it would drive anyone insane." She lifts a hand, gently running it down your arm, down to your wrist. Her fingertips brush along your skin, a barely-there touch that makes her want to drown in your embrace.
"You've already poisoned me. I'm utterly at your mercy."
It's a half-joke, but the words hold more truth than Clorinde can even begin to express. "Ooor you're just incredibly tired and talk some nonsense." Clorinde lets out a half-laugh, half-groan. "I'm tired, yes, but…"
She pauses momentarily, burying her face into your shoulder. Her hair tickles your chin.
"It's still true. I'm weak against you," she murmurs. "I don't know how you do it. You could do anything you wanted to me. I'd let you," she admits, her voice a quiet whisper. She lifts her head enough to look up at you. In this angle, she looks almost delicate, the sharp corners of her face blurred and softened.
"There is no one else I'd let ruin me," she says softly, a smirk gracing her lips.
"No one else who could even come close. I'm a good fighter after all."
Collei - aged up
As you hold Collei close, you can feel the way she relaxes, almost melting against you, her small stature so slight and fragile. She presses her face against your chest, savoring your warmth and comfort. Collei’s soft breath is against your skin, a steady and reassuring presence, like the beating of a bird’s wing.
She takes a shaky breath, her words barely a whisper in the soft silence of the room.
"Please don’t let go.”
"Is the academia exhausting you?" You carefully ask. Collei nuzzles against your chest, her voice a weary whisper. "It is," she admits, her words coming out in a resigned sigh. "It's always too much. Too much to learn, too much to remember, too much to do."
She hesitates for a moment, as if trying to gather her thoughts, her breath trembling against your skin. "Sometimes... Sometimes I just feel so tired." She buries herself against you, trying to draw comfort from your presence. Her weary body is tense, coiled like a spring about to release.
"I don't know if I can keep it up," she confesses, her voice small and vulnerable. She clings to you as if you are the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of her fears. "I want to... But it’s hard."
"I believe in you."
Your words feel like a soothing balm to Collei's weary heart. A shaky breath leaves her, as if a burden has suddenly lifted from her shoulders.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. Her slender arms tighten around you, her frame almost trembling with the effort she puts into holding herself together.
"I... I really needed to hear that tonight."
Columbina
Columbina sighs contentedly, wrapped up in your embrace. The sound of her soft voice hums through the air, the melody light as the touch of a summer breeze. She nuzzles up against you as she hums, her eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the soft puffs of her breath warm against your body. For this moment, her body loosens, her muscles loosening into a soft pile of flesh against yours. For once she does not wear her usual eye cover.
After a few moments, Columbina speaks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Did you know," she murmurs against the soft skin of your throat.
Her lips brush your skin with every word. She doesn't open her eyes, and continues speaking as she presses herself even closer to you. The hand she rests against your hip pulls you gently against her.
"That there is nobody else I adore more than you?"
She lets out a soft moan when she feels you pull her closer, her breath warm and soft against your skin. She keeps her eyes closed. One arm wraps around your waist, her hand resting against you. It slides against your form, drawing itself up your side. Her breathing is still steady, but her heart feels as if it is pounding against her ribs.
"You're the only one I love," she murmurs, her words more a breath than a sound, "and if anyone ever dares to come near you..."
"...I'll fucking kill them."
Cyno
Cyno's arms are around you, his body pressed against yours. He's enjoying the warmth of your embrace, face buried in the crook of your neck. He smells faintly of fresh rain and smoke, an interesting mixture.
"I don't know how you can tolerate me," he murmurs softly into your skin. He doesn't lift his head, just nuzzling into your warmth.
"Meh, you're alright. Not THAT bad."
"Mm, yeah, only 'not THAT bad'," he says with a hint of a sarcastic tone, but his voice is soft, and there's a smile in his words. One of his hands begins to slowly trace circles on your skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent. His grip on you tightens imperceptibly as he cuddles closer. Cyno leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply— enjoying the way you feel, the way you smell. He's quiet for a moment, his body relaxing as his tension seems to evaporate.
"No one else would put up with me," he admits, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his words, "No one else would love me. Only you, always you." He hums against your skin, his lips moving down to your neck. Every breath that leaves his mouth feels like a prayer. Against your flesh he mouths, 'you are my world.' against your collarbone he mutters, 'I adore you.' and against the hollow of your throat he says, 'I don't need anything else but you.' A shiver rolls through his frame, his body writhing against yours. A low, shuddering moan slips past his lips and into your ear, his arms tightening against you.
"I love you," he practically pants against your skin, his voice broken and ragged.
"I love you so much."
Dainsleif
Dainsleif holds you close, against his chest.
His arms wrap around you carefully, like he was handling a piece of fine china. One of his hands idly plays with your hair as he simply savors the feeling of you in his arms. After a few moments of quiet, he lets out a soft, shuddering sigh.
"You are so… warm," he murmurs quietly, like he was talking to himself. "Not just your skin. All of you," he says as he tightens his arms around you for a moment.
"And you're always so cold." you state. Dainsleif laughs quietly, a sound low in his throat. "Are you saying I should borrow your heat, then?" He teases, even as he tucks his head down, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
"I don't mind the cold too much," he says against your hair, but it still sounds like he's trying to convince himself, too. "Cause you're used to it."
A breathless huff of a laugh escapes Dainsleif, and he pulls you a little closer to him, as though trying to soak up every bit of warmth you're giving.
"I am. But some days I…"
He stops, his voice dying away for a moment. His hold around you tightens. "Some days it's like my very blood is freezing. It feels like I've forgotten what warmth truly feels like," he murmurs against the curve of your shoulder.
"Then I always come back to you, to be reminded of how warm your love truly is."
Dehya
She melts against you, her body soft and malleable, like clay in your hands. She buries her head into your chest, curling up like a cat in a sunbeam, nuzzling her cheek against you. She is warm and cozy, content to stay in your embrace until you decide to let her go. She mumbles something under her breath, the words a barely-comprehensible murmur against your skin.
“Never thought I'd be the little spoon...”
"You like it?" you ask with a smirk, you know she does. Dehya lets out a soft huff, her breath warm against your skin. She tucks herself a little closer, burying her face against your collarbone.
“Mhmm,” she hums, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. “lts not that bad...”
Dehya is a clingy little thing tonight. While she is usually a little more stoic, a little more confident, right now all she wants is to be held. She clings to you like a limpet, not wanting to let you go.
She has her arms wrapped around you, fingers gripping your back through your shirt, as if afraid that if she lets go you’ll slip through her grasp like water through a sieve. She buries her face against the side of your neck, planting a soft kiss against your skin. Her lips, soft as flower petals, linger against the crook in your collarbone before slowly drifting upwards, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up towards your jaw, and then your ear.
"Love you," she murmurs again, her voice softer than before, quieter, like a secret only you're privy to.
"Love you too."
Diluc
Diluc feels calm as you lay against his chest. He drinks in the weight of you against him like warm water, savoring how it feels. His thoughts are fuzzy, drifting through his mind like fireflies by a riverbank. His hand comes to rest on your hip, thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin.
"We could just stay here, forever," he murmurs, his voice low and lazy. He looks over you, taking in the way your features are softened by the low light. You look perfect like this. He could watch you for hours.
"The outside world, the people in it, they're so complicated. But when it's just us…"
His hand continues tracing patterns on your skin, fingers dipping under the fabric of your shirt and caressing the bare flesh beneath.
"Hm?" "It's simple."
Diluc's voice is a low rumble, a gentle purr. He continues running his fingers over your skin, tracing every contour, every line, like he is trying to commit it to memory.
"When it's just us, it's simple."
He lets out a shallow exhale as if sighing with contentment, before he goes on. "No politics. No expectations. No duty. Just... just us."
His gaze drifts from you to the view outside. The night sky is dark, though the stars are visible, their light falling upon your body, making it almost glow.
Diluc swallows, his hand unconsciously grasping at your shirt as he stares quietly at the night, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts that can only be quieted by you.
"Let's just stay here and never look back..."
Diona - platonic
Diona snuggles against you, burying her face into your chest. She's like a clingy, fluffy and oversized kitten who is only happy when being held.
"Can we stay like this forever?" She mumbles against your shirt, her voice muffled. You let out a laugh, "You wanna cuddle me forever?" Diona nods silently, her messy hair bobbing as she moves. "I do," she confirms quietly, shifting to press closer against you. "You're warm and comfortable. I want to stay like this forever. And you make a good bed." Diona nuzzles her head against your neck, lazily resting her head. Her twitching ears tickling your skin.
"Besides," she murmurs, her voice taking on a more playful tone, "It's not like I have anything better to do. You're a good...how do you say it? Time killer."
Her voice takes on a more needy tone as she continues.
"And besides,...again" she adds, nuzzling her head against your chest again. "You're so soft. It's so warm here. Why wouldn't I want to stay snuggled up like this for ever and ever with my favorite person?"
Dottore
You can't help but worry, sitting in his lap in his laboratory. "What if someo-" Dottore shushes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you there, his lips brushing against your cheek.
"Let them come." His voice is playful, his grip possessive as he pulls you even more firmly against his chest. "I want them to see you in my arms. I want them to see who you belong to."
You snort, "Me? Belonging to you?" "You belong to me." He repeats, as if the words hold truth more powerful than any other. His hand lifts, cupping your chin.
"You belong to me," he says again, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. "Body…" he presses once, slowly, then begins to trace the outside of your mouth. "Soul. Everything." The more that Dottore's touch brushes over you, the deeper his expression grows.
"When I hold you like this…"
His fingers trail down your jaw, over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders.
"When I have you against me…"
He leans in, breath hot against your ear.
"When I touch you…"
"You're mine."
The gentle movement of Dottores hand turns rough, suddenly. His fingers tighten on your jaw and angle your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. His red eyes are dark, hungry. His cheeks are flushed.
"I hate the thought of someone else looking at you," he whispers. "Of someone else touching you. You're my god."
Dori - platonic
Dori's mind is racing. She is completely starstruck in your presence. The sight of you makes her feel dizzy. Her palms are sweaty, legs feeling weak like jelly.
"Oh..." She looks at you, her eyes staring wide, like the waters of a summer lake.
"You're... you're so pretty," she says quietly. Her words are barely a whisper. "LIKE MORA-!" "Like mora?!" Dori is trying so hard to play things cool, but she thinks you are the epitome of beauty. "Uh... Yeah." She tries to sound nonchalant, but she's completely failing.
"So...?" She tries to feign annoyance, but her heart is still hammering in her chest. "What do you want? Wanna fight?" 
"You're cute, Dori." "I-I'm not cute," she protests, feeling the heat under her face become warmer with embarrassment. "I'm cool. And... super tough....super rich."
She drops her face against your shoulder, "thank you..."
Eula
She sits quietly in your lap, head against your chest, plush thighs around you. Her eyelids flutter slowly, the last bits of tension in her body slowly ebbing as she enjoys the closeness. There is a faint smile on her face. Being in your arms is a treasure she will never tire of, no matter how much she pretends such things annoy her. You are her light, her anchor, her everything. Her own quiet corner in an otherwise chaotic world.
"Not bad, huh? Taking a rest?" "Mhm." Eula replies sleepily, leaning more of her weight into your touch.
"You make a good pillow." She teases, though the words are said in a completely serious tone. She stretches her arms behind her, arching her back in a way that makes her lean even more away from you.
"But, if I recall correctly," she mumbles. "We're supposed to be training. Didn't you want to… what was it…see me in action?" Her eyes are half-lidded, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.
"Or was that just an excuse to lure me into your arms?" She teases, shifting in your lap to get comfortable.
"Though I won't complain about being close like this, either…" She drapes one arm over your shoulder.
"I suppose you could just keep me here all day and call it a training session"
NEW ADDED: Èmilie
"You've been working harder lately..." Your fingers run through her short hair, "But you still smell amazing." Émilie blushes a little at your praise, melting into your embrace. She buries her face in your chest, as if to hide her embarrassment. Her arms are wrapped around you, slender fingers tracing idle shapes against your back.
"I… I suppose I have been working a little more lately," she agrees quietly. "There's been a lot to do...so many orders...requests" She nuzzles against your shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in your scent. She sighs softly; you always smell so good to her. It's better than any perfume she could ever make.
"I've missed this," she confesses shyly, almost sheepish. "Being with you..." Émilie tilts her head so her chin is resting on your shoulder, your chests pressed closely together. She's warm, softer than any pillow, with skin like liquid moonlight. She closes her eyes, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.
"I love you," she whispers, voice as fragile as thin ice, as though she dares not say the words any louder. With just a little maneuvering, Emilie rearranges herself so she's now straddling you, her body perfectly settled in your lap.
"Can we… stay like this, for a while?" she asks, not opening her eyes, keeping her face pressed close against your body. "Please?"
"For as long as you please."
Faruzan
Faruzan rests her head against your chest, curling up against you like a cat. This is her favourite position. She can listen to your heartbeat, feel your breath with every rise and fall of your chest. She is content here. Your presence soothes her. She loves feeling small, wrapped up in your arms like this. Faruzan lets out a sigh, nuzzling her head against you and pressing her ear to your chest. She can hear the beat of your heart. It's slow and steady. A comforting sound, as familiar as the tides or the stars in the sky.
"Can we stay like this a little longer?" Her voice is quiet, just a breath against your skin.
"For as long as you want." Faruzan hums, then she pulls herself closer to you, draping one slender leg across your hips. Her arms find their way around your waist, holding tight, as if afraid to let go even for a moment.
She sighs again, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of you.  "Forever," she whispers.
"That's a long time." "Not long enough," she mumbles against you.
"I could stay like this until the sun burns out, and still want more."
Fischl - aged up
Fischl is cuddled up in your arms, her head resting on your chest. Her blonde hair is spilling out across you and she's holding her body close to yours. She's so soft in your arms, warm like a furnace, and for her this is the greatest comfort she could ever have.
"Your skin…" She mutters. "You feel so lovely. You feel like… like…" She doesn't know how to describe the feeling, it makes her eyes flutter closed in bliss. Fischl’s hands reach out, tracing over your skin with a delicacy that defies description.
“I have never felt anything so…" Her sentence trails off, voice dying in her throat like a bird in the morning air. Her skin pebbles as your flesh brushes against her, each touch as if a piece of the divine.
"Is this a sin?" She whispers, the first of the words spoken in a long while. Her fingers hesitate on your chest, trembling. "What is a sin?" "This," she murmurs.
She can feel the heat of your body, the way your limbs press against hers, the way your skin feels like summer sun. It's so overwhelming, the sensations flooding her mind. Her hands move against your skin, tracing over your stomach, your chest, your arms— she can't keep her fingers still.
"Touching you, like this. Being close to you, like this. Is this sacrilege?"
"Nope."
"Not even a little? Even a hint of blasphemy is acceptable?"
Her head rests against your neck, her breath warm against your skin. She doesn’t know if your answer is correct or not, but the mere thought that this is acceptable— it is enough to make her heart soar in her chest.
“This feels…” her body presses even closer to yours, arms wrapping tighter around your frame.
“This feels divine. If sin is this sweet…”
Freminet
"Todays dive...was it good?" He lets out a soft hum of affirmation as he nestles closer into your embrace, his muscles relaxing in your presence.
"It was…" He murmurs. "It was good. Peaceful. I was just… thinking."
He closes his eyes and lays his head against your chest, sighing contentedly. The sound that escapes his lips is warm, soft like the caress of skin against skin.
"Thinking?" Freminet nods, though the motion is lazy and halfhearted. He can hardly be bothered to move when he's in your embrace. When he's safe.
"Just thinking…" He mutters again.
He opens his eyes slowly, his gaze rising to look up at you. A brief pause, as if he's deciding on what to say, then: "...about you." He shifts against you slightly, resting his ear against your chest and closing his eyes again. Your warmth makes him feel so relaxed, so safe. It's a strange feeling, being vulnerable. But for you, he'll risk it any time.
He's silent for another moment, just enjoying your presence and the sound of your breathing. Then, gently: "... can I tell you something?"
"Hm?" He takes a slow, shaky breath, like he's gathering the words in his mouth before he lets them escape. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, almost a whisper.
"I…"
He hesitates, and his gaze lowers as his face warms. How does he voice this? How can he articulate the feelings in his heart into coherent sentences?
"I think... I may... be in love with you."
Furina
The question is unnecessary, stupid, but you can't help but ask again, "Did you have maccaroni again today?" Furinas eyes flutter, and she lets out a soft breath.
“Perhaps…” She whispers, burying her face into your chest. “How did you know?” "Cause you have it everyday." “Can you blame me?” She mutters back, her voice slightly muffled by the position she places herself in. She pulls herself a little closer. “It’s my favourite.”
"...Fair enough." “Hey… I’m not that predictable, am I?” Furina murmurs, her voice now more like a pout than a whisper. She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes full of faux-hurt. Nothing, no answer. You just look at her, that's answer enough. Furina lets out a sigh and buries herself back into your chest, hiding her face— no longer pouting, but definitely still annoyed.
“…You still like me, though… right?” She mumbles. "Yes." The words cause Furina to shiver— that soft, shuddering shudder that rocks her body everytime you praise her. She lets out a shaky breath.
“And you’re not… tired of the macaroni? Or… of me?”
"No."
"....good."
Ga Ming - aged up
He is in your arms, cuddled against your chest, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. He lets out a small whimper now and then, a response to the sharp bursts of pain from the newly-scraped spot on his hand. But mostly, he’s quiet. His expression is one of pure bliss, face completely relaxed as he simply lets you hold him.
"You should be more careful..." “I know,” he murmurs, eyes closed in contentment. He can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, warm skin pressed against your skin.
“But I’m also clumsy,” he laughs, a small half-smile curling his lips. “I’m not good at being careful.” His lips brush against your collarbone as he speaks, each word a puff of warm breath. He buries his face into your neck. The touch of your skin is soothing, like honey on inflamed skin.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” His words take on a hint of pleading — a small note of worry. Gaming hates disappointing you.
"No, never." You reassur him. His shoulders relax a little, the taut line of his spine beginning to bend. “Good,” he mutters softly. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He tilts his head, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. The gesture is affectionate, full of gentle tenderness. "I could never be mad at you." “I know,” Gaming breathes, his voice soft as a summer breeze. He moves a hand, slowly trailing his fingers across your arm — an aimless, gentle movement — while he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he continues, a hint of sadness in his words, “I’m clumsy sometimes, and… and I scrape my body up like an idiot...but hey you always patch me up!"
Ganyu
Ganyu nuzzles into your touch, her head resting against the crook of your shoulder, her horns brushing against your skin. She lets out a content hum and relaxes against you, a quiet sigh passing her lips. Her eyes are half-lidded, a sleepy look on her face.
"Mm..."
She seems comfortable, her form loose and lax against you. It is rare to see her like this—unguarded, vulnerable, soft. "This is nice," she mumbles quietly.
Ganyu pulls herself a little closer, her head resting against the hollow of your shoulder. For a moment, she is silent, then she speaks again.
"Can we stay like this?" Her question is soft, the words whispered.
"Mhm, of course." Ganyu's eyes flutter closed almost immediately, shutting against the outside world so only you can be seen. Her breaths become slow and steady, the rise and fall of her chest steady and even.
She's comfortable with you, relaxed in your presence. You can hear her heart beating in the silence, a soft thump-thump that sounds just a little faster than usual. After a moment, one of Ganyu's eyes open, just a crack. She looks up at you, watching through her half-lidded gaze.
"You won't go, will you?" She whispers, voice still heavy and slow with approaching sleep.
"No." "You promise?"
For a brief moment, Ganyu's arm tightens its grip on you, her hand clenching a little more firmly against your shirt. She wants you close.
"I promise."
Gorou
"Tiring day?" "Yes..." Gorou closes his eyes as you hold him, shifting closer until he can lay his head against your chest.
Today had been tiring, and he'd longed for your presence since the moment he woke up. The ache in his chest is soothed by being in your arms. For the first time in hours, Gorou finds himself completely at peace. Gorou feels your fingers gently run through his hair, and his tail can't help but betray him. His ears twitch as it starts to speed up, tail wagging against you as your fingertips move against his scalp in a soothing rhythm.
Your touch is all he's longed to feel since he woke up, and now that he's got it, he's never letting it go. Gorou lets out a quiet sound as you continue running your fingers over his head, a sound that's somewhere between a hum of content and a whimper. It's a vulnerable sound, one that's not usually so easily coaxed out of the stern, stoic general.
"Please..." he says quietly, closing his eyes as his tail thumps against the mattress. "Don't stop..." Gorou's tail thumps against the mattress once more, almost like a reflex. He buries his face into your shoulder as you coo the words "good boy."
Being praised by you is, without a doubt, his favorite thing. It feels so good to hear your voice say the words so warmly, like it's some treasured treat for him and only him.
"Your good boy..."
Hu Tao
Hu Tao is resting her head against your chest, snuggled up against you like a cat. She's enjoying the feeling of being in your arms, of being close to you in a snug, private place such as a coffin. "I could get used to this," she says, a hint of teasing in her tone. "I wonder how you'd react if I just decided to live in here from now on?" Her voice is light, casual. She's amused by the idea, enjoying the mental image of spending more time like this— resting against you in a small, confined space, like a pair of lovers trapped in an eternal embrace.
"Imagine, every time you open the coffin, there I am. No warning. I just move in and make myself at home." Hu Tao chuckles softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your arms.
"...ehhh no thank you." Hu Tao pouts at your response, her expression theatrical and deliberately over-the-top.
"Oh, come on. It'd be fun!" She protests. "Just think of how surprised you'd be every day. You'd never know if I was going to pop out and say hi."
She grins mischievously. "And think of all the extra cuddles we could have in such a cramped little space. Isn't that worth something?" She bats her eyelashes at you, a picture-perfect image of innocence and coyness that belies the mischief in her eyes.
"And just imagine how shocked the others would be if they found out I was living here too! Can you picture Zhongli just stumbling upon me sleeping in here?" She chuckles at the mental image. "He'd probably go into cardiac arrest before I even opened my eyes!His poor old heart really wouldn't be able to take it. But just think of how entertaining it'd be to see him flustered like that."
She sighs, her mischievous smile softening into a more sincere expression. "Although, I suppose I can see the appeal of a big, fancy palace... Especially if it means you'll let me snuggle up against you like this whenever I want."
Jean
A soft sigh leaves Jean's mouth, her shoulders relaxing instantly as she sinks into your embrace. She buries her face against your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist. Her eyes flutter closed, blue pupils disappearing like sapphires beneath a sea.
She feels like she can finally breathe for the first time in forever like this— safe in your arms, cradled against your chest. For once, the world beyond the two of you doesn't exist— nor does it matter.
"Long week, huh?" Jean lets out a sigh, the sound drawn from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes and nods, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder again.
Her words are soft, muffled by her face being pressed flush against your body. "Long days, long nights... so much paperwork, and I still haven't gotten through all of it." She pulls you a little closer, as if needing something to hold onto. Exhaustion seeps into her voice, even as it remains quiet and soothing.
"But... it's better now. This — you."
Jean tilts her head, her face buried against the crook of your neck. Her words brush against your skin like feathers, every exhale a small caress.
"Being with you always makes it better."
Heizou
"Did you solve the case yet?" You carefully ask. Heizou groans, lifting his head from your shoulder. He runs a hand through his hair, messy and ruffled from laying on the grass.
"I might as well be asking a rock if it's solved the case," he mutters, flopping back down against you, arms sliding around your waist. His head drops against your shoulder again, and Heizou nuzzles against your neck. "I'm getting nowhere with this damn case." Heizou sighs, his breath hot against your skin. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your shoulder again, burying himself in your touch.
"Everyone involved seems to be lying," he mumbles, his voice a whisper. "And I can't dig up any other clues. It's like trying to crack open a damn rock with my head." "You have a hard head," you murmur, teasing.
Heizou raises his head, shooting you a weak glare. "Shut up," he mumbles. "I'll put you through an interrogation, see how quickly you snap then." "Wanna ask if my love for you is legit?" "Yes." His reply is instant, muttered against your neck. Heizou's voice vibrates against your skin, a low hum that seems more suited for a cat than a person.
"I wanna know just what I have to do to hear you say those words." He burrows in close, arms wrapping tighter around you. "Those three words."
"I love you?" "Yes." His answer is barely more than a whisper, a simple breath of sound that puffs hot against your skin.
His grip around you tightens, and one of Heizou's hands lifts to cradle your cheek. Fingers brush against your hair, his touch tender, as if holding something precious.
"Again. Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again."
Itto
Itto nuzzles his face into your stomach as the pair of you lay together, his arms pulling you closer against himself. He is a comfortable heat to your side, his body pressing flush against you under the blanket that covers you both.
As he lies there, his eyes are almost half-lidded. He can barely keep them open, but he feels so warm and safe laying against you, and the sound of your voice and the heat of your body soothe him down to his very soul. "Itto, you'll suffocate down there." "I don't care," he murmurs, not moving a muscle. He buries his face in your shoulder, soaking in your touch, your scent.
He could suffocate this way, and he'd gladly do it. "Please don't make me move." Itto's pleading voice is muffled, his words spoken against your skin. "Hold me. I've missed you."
"Ok." Your simple answer is enough to send Itto's chest fluttering. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers is as soothing as a cool summer breeze, and he relishes in the proximity of your body, the smell of your clothes, the way your hand rests in his hair.
Itto is quiet for a moment, his chest rising and falling, matching the rhythm of your breaths. Then— "I love you," he whispers into your skin.
Kazuha
Kazuha is cuddling with you, his head resting on your shoulder. He seems utterly relaxed for once, his eyes half closed, expression soft. He's murmuring something under his breath, but you can't quite make out the words. As you try and make out what he's mumbling, the sounds slowly become clearer, until Kazuha is murmuring the words of poetry to you softly, the words flowing from him as if they were always meant to be your personal whisper in the night.
Kazuha's eyes meet yours. He blinks, pausing in the reciting of his poem. His head tilts a little, white and red hair falling over one eye, and a slow smile spreads across his lips.
"You look beautiful, y’know," he murmurs, tilting his head to rest on your shoulder again. He buries his face against your collarbone, closing his eyes blissfully. Kazuha wraps an arm around you, tugging you closer to his body. He burrows his face deeper into you, inhaling your scent. A low noise of contentment rumbles in his chest, like a cat purring.
"I'm glad that you're mine," his voice is low and raspy, barely louder than a whisper.
Kaeya
Kaeya rests his head against your shoulder. His breath is warm against your skin, his body almost too warm in the summer heat.  He wraps both arms around your waist, burying his face against your neck. He breathes in your scent like a man starved, filling his lungs with nothing but you. "I'm such a fool," he mumbles into your skin. His words send little puffs of heat dancing across your shoulder, as if he is breathing against it.
"You have me wrapped around your little finger, you know."
His grip tightens slightly, holding you a little closer. "Do I?" Kaeya nods, tilting his head to bite playfully at your ear. "Completely," he says, his voice low. "Whipped, even. You have no idea, do you?" His tongue flicks against your earlobe, the touch like a butterfly landing on your skin for just an instant. He lifts his head from your shoulder, pulling back just enough to fix you with an intense, heated glance.
His eyes are darker now, his pupils dilated slightly.
"You know exactly what you do to me," he says, his voice dipping. "Don't pretend otherwise."
"Caught me in the act."
"I knew it."
Kaveh
You both are laying on your very cold, very hard marble floor. "What is it you dont like about my ceiling?" "It's too opulent and… busy." Kaveh glances up at the ceiling.
"I would've preferred something much more simplistic," he admits bluntly. "No unnecessary frills. Just something sturdy that stands the test of time."
He turns his gaze back to you. "I've seen ceilings in ruins older than your palace that are more aesthetically pleasing," he teases, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Ouch, my poor architects all those years ago." "I never said that I blame them."
Kaveh reaches a hand up, and traces a line along the edge of your jaw, his touch trailing down to your throat, his fingers gentle on your skin. "I simply think the architect could've done their job more effectively."
He rolls over, shifting so he's half covering you with his body, leaning over you.
"I could have thought of a much better design." He says, his smirk widening.
"More modern?" "More timeless." He corrects, his hand shifting to the nape of your neck, tilting your head back slightly.
"That's the mistake a lot of you modern architects make," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"No sense for history. No regard for subtlety. Everything is too flashy now."
He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
"I think it's a bit gaudy. All you modern architects are obsessed with making things look expensive rather than making them look good."
Keqing
Keqing, who is utterly exhausted and a little clingy due to her working hours, tucks herself into you as if you are her lifeline, her safe haven.
"You smell nice," she mumbles, her eyes already half-lidded as she buries her face into your neck. Despite herself, she lets out a small yawn, her muscles growing loose once more as she lets her weight be supported by her favorite pillow: you.
"Mm," she hums to herself, snuggling closer to you under your blankets. A quiet shiver rolls through her when your fingers run over her back. This moment of peace is, in a way, unusual for Keqing. In public, she is often the picture of authority and determination.
At your side, she is a completely different girl; vulnerable and clingy and needy.
"Need… headpats…" she murmurs, her words a muffled hum against your skin.
You can't help but laugh, "Headpats? Sure." A small breath leaves her when your hand lifts to start petting her head, running through her soft, purple hair, careful not to cause any pain.
"Mmm," she sighs. She seems satisfied like this, tucked safely into the warmth of your side, cuddled and doted on like you would a beloved house cat.
Kirara
Kirara is leaning back against you, resting her head on your chest.
She can hear your heartbeat, steady as a drum within your chest, like a song against her ear. Her eyes are half-lidded, but her tails are restless as she relaxes against you. The touch of your hand against her hair and skin has her purring gently. She looks like she could fall asleep at any moment, but there is one thing she wants to speak of first.
"I can hear your heartbeat, you know," she mumbles. Kirara closes her eyes and focuses on the sound of your heart, your chest rising and falling against her skin. It’s almost a comfort; a constant reminder that you are alive, here with her, within her reach. She lets out another quiet purr, resting her cheek against your chest as she focuses on the sound, listening to the steady beat of your heart.
"It’s strangely comforting," she murmurs, the words barely more than a breath against your skin. There is silence for a moment, but Kirara breaks it with a low, soft hum.
“I love the sound of your heart beating,” she admits quietly. Her voice is barely more than a whisper, her words flowing like a breeze through the room.
“It’s slow and steady.” She turns her head and presses her ear against your chest again, listening to it. “Calm.”
"You know…" she murmurs, turning her head further so that her next words are spoken into your skin, against your chest.
"Your heartbeat sounds like home. Better than a box for sure."
Klee - platonic
"I dare you to blow up my garden again." You softly warn her. Klee winces at the reminder of her past transgressions. She looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading. Her bottom lip quivers for a moment, her usual confident facade falling as quickly as a house of cards caught in a summer breeze.
"I…" She swallows hard. "I won't," she admits. Her gaze darts around, taking in the room. "I won’t blow up your garden again." She has every intention of keeping to her promise, she truly does. For a while, she manages to contain herself and her childish urges. But then, the itch to explode something appears. Her fingers tingle for a moment as she remembers the feeling of fire beneath her fingertips. As if possessed, she grips a fistful of your clothes.
"Can I blow up something else?" She asks cautiously.
"No-!!"
"Nawww..."
Kokomi
Kokomi's body is warm against your own, her skin a soft canvas against your own flesh. She is quiet, her breathing steady as she leans into your touch.
The scent of flowers wafts from her hair, drifting on the air and enveloping the two of you in a light perfume. She reaches out with a trembling hand, tracing the planes of your face as she marvels at your beauty. She lets out a quiet shudder, every breath a soft whisper that floats on the night air. Your touch alone is enough to send shivers up the length of her spine, each gentle caress making her skin sing.
Her eyes wander over your face as she reaches up to touch your cheek, her slender fingers tracing the angle of your jaw. The touch of your skin against her own makes her heart constrict, her pulse quickening as she lays her hand on top of yours.
"Grace," she murmurs, her voice like silk against your ear. "My Grace." Her voice drops even lower than a whisper, her breath warm against your ear. The word is spoken like an endearment, the syllables rolling from her tongue one by one.
"You are the personification of grace," she murmurs, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Gentle and lovely in all your divinity..."
She lets out a soft breath, her arm squeezing around your waist involuntarily as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. "Mine," she whispers.
Layla
Layla melts into your embrace, her blue gradient hair fanning out across the sheets. She buries her face against your neck, breathing in the scent of you like an addict. After all, you are her addiction. She doesn't speak for a long moment. The feeling of your body against hers is all that matters.
"I love you," she whispers against the crook of your shoulder, quiet as the wind. Like a prayer of reverence.
"I love you too." Layla nuzzles closer, closing her eyes and just enjoying the feeling of your skin against hers. It's almost enough to make her purr like a cat. She tilts her head up so that her lips brush against the underside of your jaw, then your neck.
"I could do this forever," she mumbles against your flesh. Her mouth makes a slow journey against your skin, trailing along your jaw, down to your collar. She kisses each patch of skin as if she's worshipping at an altar, her lips against you like a prayer.
A small shiver rolls through Layla's body. The feeling of your flesh under her mouth… it's so divine.
"My guiding star."
Lisa
Lisa feels absolutely relaxed in your arms, in the library, her head propped up on your shoulder as she cuddles up against your chest.
Her eyes are closed, a blissful smile on her face as she listens to the sound of your heartbeat. It’s a sound as familiar to her as her own name, and each thump reassures her that you’re there. That you’re safe and in her arms.
A contented sigh shudders through her lips. “My cutie,” she murmurs, and she nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Lisa’s breath is slow and even as she buries her face against your neck. Her entire body is loose and content, melting into you like candlewax as she soaks up the comfort of simply being by your side.
The room is silent around you. The only sound is the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the occasional crackle as the fire in the hearth flickers in and out.
“I love you,” she whispers. The words are spoken against your skin, her voice muffled and warm. "I love you too."  Lisa lifts her head just enough to look up at you, a soft smile on her face. Her eyes, usually so lively and mischievous, regard you with a sweetness reserved only for you. An affection that only you have earned.
“You are perfect,” she murmurs, voice tinged with reverential adoration. “Absolutely perfect. You know that, don’t you?”
"A little cutie you are-!" She squeezes your cheeks.
Lumine (somehow Lumine disappeared, now shes vomit green I'm sorry)
"Paimon not here today?" Lumine let's out a soft sound at that, practically melted into your body. "Just us," she agrees, her hands fisting even tighter in the fabric of your clothes. She's already so close to you, yet she wants to be closer.
Her grip on you tightens, one of her legs intertwining with yours. A moment later, her lips are back at your skin, pressing kisses against your neck.
She's practically glued to you, practically moulding herself into you. It seems to be taking every bit of her self-control not to press every part of her body against you.
Her hands move to grasp your waist, pulling herself impossibly closer.
"Eager today, huh?" Her answer is a low whine against your skin.
"Yes," she admits finally, her voice a whisper against your body. "More than usual."  Her head lifts just enough to press a needy kiss to your collarbone. She pulls herself closer, pressing herself as much as she can into you.
"Do you know how desperately I ache to feel you?" she murmurs, her voice muffled against your skin. "Every part of me longs for you. I cannot spend a single moment without thinking of you. I need you."
"Need to always be with you, forever."
Lynette
She is wrapped up in your arms, her head resting upon your chest. Her breathing is steady, slow. The soft thrum of a purr hums inside her chest, steady and calm, like a content little engine.
"I…" she starts, but the words die on her tongue. Instead, she nuzzles herself deeper into your embrace, a shudder of quiet ecstasy rippling up her spine. Lynettes breathing deepens as she buries her face into you. Her eyes slide shut, her body molding to your own, soft and pliable like melted butter. Her hands fist the material of your clothes, holding you close.
"I love you," she whispers into your skin. She feels safe here, in your arms. She feels as though no harm could ever reach her while she is encircled by you, and her heart nearly sings with contentment. Lynette presses impossibly closer to you, her body practically melting into your embrace. The low hum of her purr is a constant, steady vibration inside her chest.
Her head lifts a little, and she buries her nose into the crook of your neck. She inhales, taking in the scent of you.
"You…" she whispers, her voice soft as a summer wind. She doesn't continue. For a moment, she loses herself in your embrace, her mind going quiet, filled with nothing but the feeling of you.
"You."
"Me?"
"You make me like this...like a damn cat."
Lyney
"That show was amazing, as always." "Thank you." Lyney's face turns red as he is showered in your praise. Despite the fact he knows he's good—he is a trained performer, after all—the words coming from you always make him flustered.
He pulls himself closer to you, burying his head into your side like a cat.
"Your compliments are too much, love," he mumbles, his hot breath fanning against your skin. For a long moment he just leans against you, relishing in the feeling of having you here, with him—close enough that he can feel your heartbeat.
"You know," he begins, his voice still a mumble against your body.
"I have a new trick I've been working on in secret." "Ohhh tell me!" "It's still a work in progress," he admits, pulling back so he can get a glimpse of your face. His eyes rake up and down your expression, like a painter memorising their muse.
"I haven't perfected it, but I think it may very well be the most beautiful trick I've ever conjured." A smirk plays at the corners of lyney's mouth as he says the words. He's still looking at you, his eyes studying your face like a sculptor.
"Perhaps, if you'd like," he says slowly, "I could show you?"
Mika - aged up
Mika is held against your body like a treasure, his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. His body is pressed close to yours, slender but surprisingly strong.
He clings to you like a drowning man, his hands gripping your clothes tightly, his face nuzzling into your neck. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath but it’s lost in the tangle of his hair. His voice is low, quiet, barely audible over the sound of his racing heart.
"Hm? What?"
He says it again, words barely more than an exhale against the sensitive skin of your throat. Mika tries to speak a few more times, then finally mumbles something somewhat legible against your neck.
"I…" he starts, then stops, his voice cracking. "I love you…"
"Oh? I love you too."
He buries his face deeper in your shoulder, hiding a shiver that rolls over his body at your words. Mika's arms tighten around you, holding you tight to his body as if you will disappear if he lets go.
He whispers those three little words again, and again, and again, as if it is a prayer and he is on his knees in a confessional. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"
Mona
Mona lays next to you, her face tilted up to the sky. One of her hands is grasping yours, her fingers intertwining with yours. In the other, she holds a star chart, pointing at various constellations with a slight smile as she explains them.
"That one's called the Wanderer... and that one is the Hunter." Her voice is soft in the night air like a whisper of wind.
"And that one...." Her smile widens a little. "That is the Astrologist."
"That's you-!" you beam. She nods her head. "Yes. That is me."
She turns her head to look at you, her hair fanning out across the grass in an arc of stars. There's a soft expression on her face, a peacefulness in the way that she looks at you, her eyes half-lidded and her lips just barely upturned in a smile, as if she were on the verge of falling asleep. "When I was young," she says, her voice soft and warm like honey, "I used to gaze up at the stars for hours, dreaming of the future and how I would chart them."
She moves closer to you, her body pressing up against yours, her head resting on your shoulder.
"I never thought I'd have someone to look at them with."
Nahida
Nahida is laying in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and a soft sigh brushes across your collarbone as she nuzzles closer to you, seeking your warmth.
"I…" she begins, but her voice falters. Her hand fidgets nervously in yours, fingers interwoven. For a moment, she merely listens to the sound of your breathing, allowing the rhythm of it to soothe her. "May I ask you something?"
"Yes?" She fidgets again for a moment, biting on her lower lip.
"Would… do you…" she falters, pausing to collect her thoughts. "Do you care about me?" she finally asks, the words little more than a whisper. Nahida sounds small in that moment. Fragile. Vulnerable.
"You're my most trusted friend...my best friend." Nahida's shoulders relax slightly at your words, some of the tension melting from her muscles. She takes a quiet breath, the slight shift causing a strand of silvery hair to fall over her face.
She looks... relieved. Happy.
"Do you really think of me as your best friend?" she asks quietly. There's a hint of a smile in her voice, the sound as soft as a summer breeze.
"Because...you're my best friend too."
Navia
"You're pretty." you mumble. Navia curls up against you, hands resting on your stomach, her head tucked under your chin. She sighs quietly, nuzzling closer to you, and shuts her eyes.
"You think I'm pretty?" She asks, the question muffled slightly against your skin.
"Mhmmm." A soft, quiet hum escapes her as she settles closer against you, her body molding against your own as if she’d always belonged there.
After a few moments of blissful silence, she speaks again, her voice a gentle murmur.
“You’re even prettier,” she says softly, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer still. Navia can’t help but hold you tighter, her limbs wrapping around you like a clinging vine. She seems to melt against you, her breathing slow and deep, as if being this close to you was as natural and essential as breathing.
“I wish I could stay like this forever,” she admits, her voice low, as if even a raised voice would break the fragile, tender quiet that’s fallen over them both.
“Just us, like this. Where nothing else could touch us.”
Neuvillette
He doesn’t even know when he started crying. He feels your hand on his cheek, the touch of your skin against his skin. His breath stutters in his chest, and he swallows. His throat is dry. Your touch is cool in the warmth of the room, like water in a desert.
He leans forward, buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tension in his body eases, and his arm curls around your waist without him thinking of it.
"Who knew that stubbing your toe can make a grown man cry this much." Neuvillette has the decency to look embarrassed by his own tears, hiding his face in your shoulder. "It hurts," he mumbles, sounding like an overgrown child whining about a skinned knee.
Outside, the rain continues to fall in fat droplets, pattering against the roof. It is as if the gods themselves are weeping alongside him. Neuvillettes grip on your hips tightens. His hands pull you closer into him, as if he's trying to meld his body with yours. The rain outside is deafening, drowning out his quiet whimper.
"It hurts," he repeats, voice growing a little hysterical.
"Why does it hurt so much?"
Nilou
"You gotta teach me this new dance someday." Nilou's head rests against your shoulder, one cheek pressed into the crook of your neck. The scent of your hair is sweet and almost intoxicating, filling her head and drowning out all her other thoughts. Her hands run slowly, absentmindedly, up and down your sides.
She glances up and her lips brush the underside of your jaw. "Which new one?" she mumbles, nuzzling into you. "I can teach you...whenever you'd like."
"Mhm." Your response sends Nilou's heart racing. It feels like her chest has become a hummingbird's cage—every nerve in her body buzzing. She's hyper aware of your hand on her back, of your body against hers. Her cheeks burn.
"...Now?" she whispers, eyes fluttering open to look up at you. "Did you mean...right now?"
"No silly." Nilou almost sighs in relief, her shoulders relaxing as embarrassment washes over her. She doesn't know what she would have done if you'd said yes. Probably melted right there on the spot, judging by how her heart is acting at the mere thought of dancing for you.
"Oh, haha ok." Her voice is so soft it's almost a squeak, and she clears her throat after a moment, a sheepish look on her face.
Ningguang
She cuddles with you, resting her head against your shoulder. She’s holding onto your waist, her arms wrapping around you as if she will lose you at a moment’s notice. Her hands grip your robes, holding onto you tighter than a vice.
She nuzzles against your shoulder, her lips pressing soft kisses against your neck. She is quiet. She simply wants to bask in your presence, to melt in your embrace.
"It's been so long since we...cuddled like this." you mumble. "Mmm." Ningguang murmurs against the crook of your neck, her lips pressed directly to your skin. "It has."
Her arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It's like she's trying to meld your bodies into one. She buries her face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing in your scent. Ningguang lets out a sigh as her nose fills with your scent, her eyes closing as she lets out a soft, pleased noise. Her body molds against your's, her curves molding to your form in the most enticing way. She doesn't even bother hiding the fact that she's inhaling your scent.
"You're wearing the perfume I gave you..."
Noelle - aged up
Noelle is cuddled against you, sitting on the side of a grassy spot away from the hustle of the city. Her hair is loose today, flowing past her shoulders in a river of ash— and her eyes are brighter than they've been in years, almost glowing as her lips split into a tender smile.
"I'm glad you sought me out," she says, turning her head to face you. "Being so near you makes me feel like... like I can relax." The wind picks up, sweeping around you both and carrying the scent of honeyed mead and summer. A few stray strands of hair blow into her face, and she lifts a hand to push them away.
"Do you—" her voice is quiet. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"What is it?" "Promise me…" Noelle's voice falters as she speaks, just barely, but enough that her words waver for a moment.
She tightens her hold on your hand, as if afraid you're going to pull it away. This next part is more whisper than voice.
"Promise that you'll always choose me above all others."
"I'm aware it's a...rather selfish request of me...unlike me. But please..."
"I will, don't you worry."
When those two words reach her ears, she can't help but let out a quiet breath of pure relief. She squeezes your hand again, her fingers wrapping around yours even more tightly, holding on as though she's afraid you might disappear the moment she lets go. There's a sort of vulnerability in her now, but she doesn't show it on her face.
"Good," she murmurs. "That's what I needed to hear," she pauses.
"I don't want to ever lose you."
Pantalone
"Not bad, not bad." You say as you look around in his father big bedroom, "But my home is better...bigger." Pantalone huffs out a small laugh, the sound barely more than a huff of air against your skin. He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling your body closer against his chest. The fact that you’re both lying together in his mansion is almost enough to make him believe he’s dreaming.
”Of course your palace is better,” he mutters, lips brushing against your ear. ”You’re there.”
Pantalone’s fingers are tracing light and gentle patterns across your skin, the touch only barely noticeable, like a whisper against your body. For a long moment, he is content to simply hold you— and then he can’t help but whisper into your ear, so softly you might think you’ve imagined it.
“You look beautiful in my arms like this… Your skin looks beautiful in moonlight… do you know that?”
"Now I do." A quiet chuckle escapes Pantalone’s lips, rolling against your ear like a gentle breeze. He tightens his grip around you, relishing the feeling of holding you tight to his chest.
When he speaks, his voice is barely more than a low murmur, the sound as smooth as silk.
"Just as I thought," he says, the words almost more felt than heard.
"You look the most beautiful when you’re in my arms."
Pierro
Pierro is curled against you. He’s pressed tight against your back, the heat from his skin bleeding through his clothes onto your own. He has a firm arm wrapped around your waist, keeping your body against his. His head is rested against the back of your neck, his breathing steady, but you can feel the rapid beating of his heart like a drum against your shoulder blades.
"You're always so busy." There’s a huff against your neck, Pierro’s breath warm and steady against your skin. His hold tightens slightly, pulling your frame even closer against his. You can feel his lips against your ear as he speaks, his voice low and quiet.
“Busy, yes.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s struggling to find the right words, “but never too busy for you.” One of his arms shifts until a large hand gently rests against your stomach, his fingers splayed across the bare skin of your exposed midriff. The tips of his calloused fingers are a sharp contrast to your soft stomach; his thumb starts to brush along your skin, as if he can’t keep his touch from seeking out contact.
His body is hot against yours, but you can feel some of the tension seeping from his muscles as his hold on you slowly relaxes. You’d almost think he was asleep, if it weren’t for the soft whisper against your ear. His fingertips trace the edge of your collarbone before he speaks, his touch so gentle that it’s almost as if he’s scared you’re a dream… as if you could disappear if he presses too fiercely. It’s all in a stark contrast to his usual behaviour, and you can feel the reverence in the way that his fingers glide across your skin.
“You’re the only thing that can distract me,” he admits, his voice low and quiet. “You’re the only thing that can get my mind off my duties…”
"I'd rather be busy with you, than with my paperwork."
Pulcinella - give the old man some love pls
Pulcinella lays there, nestled against you, his arm curled around your middle as you hold him close.
His face is buried against your neck. He's warm, his skin against yours soothing. The tension that usually clings to his body is slowly ebbing away the longer you both lay there, a quiet calm enveloping the both of you.
"This is nice…" he whispers against your skin, "It's been long since I had contact like this."
"Far too long." Pulcinella closes his eyes and presses closer against you. He nuzzles his face further against your neck, almost like a cat seeking affection.
"You always make me feel so…" he pauses, searching for the right word. "At peace," he murmurs finally, his voice muffled against your skin. “My thoughts are quiet,” he admits, his hand tracing light, absentminded patterns over your side. “I’m not… thinking. About anything. I’m not worrying. I’m calm.”
His lips brush against your skin as he speaks. He closes the last few inches between the two of you, until his body is pressed right up against yours.
"Thank you for...taking some of the weight of my shoulders."
Qiqi - platonic
The contact of your skin pressed against hers makes something loosen in Qiqis chest. Her shoulders relax, her muscles unclenching. Her eyes flutter closed. She leans into the touch, seeking more, craving it as desperately as a man lost in the desert craves fresh water.
She feels safe with you; she feels comfortable. She is not at ease in most places, but in your arms, her body is gentle like silk.
"Comfy..." "Comfy?" "Very," Qiqi murmurs, her voice a whisper.
She scoots a little closer to your body, burrowing into your warmth. The contact between you both steals a sigh from her lips, and she lets her head fall against your chest. The even sound of your breathing and the steady rise and fall of your chest are more soothing than a lullaby. Qiqi's heartbeat slows as she listens to each inhale and exhale, and soon her eyes are growing heavy.
Her arms wrap loosely around your form, and she drifts off into a deep, quiet sleep, tucked into your embrace.
Raiden
Ei hums, pleased at the sweet taste of strawberries, and at the feeling of you close against her. She savours the heat of your skin and the press of your body against her own. It's a quiet moment - no worship, no praise, just silent comfort and the two of you together. It's all Ei really needs; all she could ever ask for.
She nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, her breath soft and warm against your pulse.
"Say ahhh~" Ei can't hide the hint of a smile that forms on her face, but she does not protest. She closes her eyes, parting her lips in a gentle "ahhh" to accept the strawberry you're holding up to her. She bites into the berry, enjoying the sweet tang of it on the soft flesh of her tongue. It's hard to suppress the small hum of approval, and a pinkish flush rises on Ei's cheeks as she eats. The tip of her tongue brushes against her lower lip, catching the last of the berry's juice. Then she opens her eyes once more to look at you.
Her eyes are soft, heavy-lidded and affectionate. The flush on her cheeks rises ever so slightly as her gaze meets yours, and Ei reaches out a hand to touch your face, the calloused pads of her fingers tracing over your cheek delicately.
"You always give me things that are so sweet," she murmurs, her voice as soft as a summer breeze.
"I love sweets."
Razor - aged up
He sighs softly as he feels you next to him. He presses closer, enjoying the familiar touch of your skin against his own. His body is relaxed, at ease in this moment of peace.
He turns to look up at you, eyes soft. Razors fingers brush against your skin, the pads of his fingertips leaving a trail of gooseflesh across your flesh as a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Razor's gaze turns reverent, his eyes tracing over the lines of your face. He gazes up at you adoringly, his expression filled with an almost desperate kind of adoration, like that of a man worshipping a god.
He runs his fingers through your hair lightly, his touch gentle but sure. He is careful, as if touching the most fragile of things. To him, you are fragile. Precious. Something to be protected at any cost.
"Razor...like this...like you."
"I love Razor too."
Rosaria
Rosaria is curled up against you, her hands grasping onto you, her head resting against your shoulder. The church is quiet and still, and everyone around them is blissfully asleep.
Yet she is wide-awake, her gaze fixed on your face as she gently plays with a strand of your hair. "Skipped chior again today?" Rosaria shifts against you in response, her body turning further into yours.
"You already knew I'd skip choir," she mutters softly, her forehead now almost touching your neck.
"Can't do thos bullshit. I fucking hate it, so stupid if you'd ask me. Not everyone can sing."
"But no one missed me anyway," she adds, a small smirk appearing on her face. She lets one of her hands slowly slide down your body, tracing a gentle path over your arm until her fingers reach yours.
"No one needs a nun who sneaks off at night," she says, but her words are dripping with affection.
"But I know you want that nun."
"That I do."
Sandrone
She melts into your embrace as you say her name. She shivers and nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck. She adores when you hold her like this. "I could stay here forever," she mumbles, her voice fuzzy with exhaustion. Sleep pulls at her like a tide, but she fights it, wanting to stay in your arms. Sandrone's head rests on your chest, listening to the gentle thump of your heartbeat. It's the most wonderful sound in the world, to her. She closes her eyes and hums contently, enjoying your presence and your warmth.
"You're mine," she murmurs, her voice soft and weary. She burrows into you, seeking more of your touch, more of your skin. "I don't give a fuck what others say, you're mine...period." Sandrone yawns and cuddles against you, feeling the exhaustion finally winning. She doesn't want to sleep, but it's too hard to fight off now.
"Yours," she whispers, as though it's a promise. Her eyes droop closed, but she mumbles one last thing.
"Love you."
Sara
Sara lies on your lap, her head resting in your legs and face nuzzling gently into your stomach. Her body is loose, tension seeping out of her body like sunlight melts the early frost. She lets out a soft sigh, a blissful hum escaping her throat.
"This is the best," she murmurs, her voice soft with sleep and adoration. "Being with you." Sara can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, the sound a soothing melody that she'd happily listen to forever. Her eyes close, a soft smile spreading across her lips. She burrows closer to you, her body seeking the warmth of your presence.
"Can we stay like this?" she asks, her voice quiet. "Just a while longer?"
"Mhm, of course." She hums in contentment, burying her face into the fabric of your clothes. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of you, that familiar aroma she loves so much. Her body relaxes further in your lap, completely at your mercy.
Her heart rate slows, her breathing deep and even. She cuddles closer to you, her hands wrapping tight around your waist, holding you close like she never wants to let go.
"Maybe forever," she whispers.
Sayu - platonic
Sayu is blissfully content as you lie together. She is completely relaxed as her eyes shut and her breathing slows. In her sleep, she subconsciously curls closer to you, pressing her body against you as if she is searching for a way to merge her body with yours.
In her sleep, she breathes your name; quiet and soft, like the sound of the first flower unfurling and opening as the spring sun rises.
"...Mm...let's go...strong...together..." A small smile rests on her face all through her sleep. She continues to press herself against you as she slumbers, her arm wrapping around your waist and drawing you close, her head coming to rest on the crook of your shoulder. Her body is so small that she practically fits perfectly against you, cuddling together with her like this is natural.
Every now and then, she'll murmur your name again, her breath puffing out against your skin and sending goose bumps along with it.
Scaramouche
"This is… unnecessary." Scaramouche fidgets as he lies on top of you, arms around your middle. He is tense, a statue carved of white marble, each line set in stone.
Still, he doesn't try to leave. He only fidgets, as if adjusting his position will make it all feel just a little less embarrassing.
"And yet, here we are." Scaramouche let's out a long sigh, his breath warm against your skin. After a moment, he shifts again, rolling onto his back. But rather than moving away, he pulls you with him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you with him until you are on top, laying against his chest.
"There," he mumbles. "Now do not try and move. Stay." He can feel the heat of your body as you lie against him, head tucked beneath his chin. The steady rise and fall of his chest betrays his feigning of indifference; his heart beats like the wings of a bird in a cage.
"Why are we doing this?" He asks, his voice quiet, but his arms remain around your shoulders, his hands clinging to you, pulling you closer.
"Oh right, to fucking practice physical touch."
Sethos
Sethos hums softly, his eyes slipping shut. His head lays in your lap, his body pressed against you. He can feel the heat of you under his skin. His body, for once, is at peace.
“This is nice,” he murmurs, and his arms wind around you, holding you even closer. "Glad you like it." “More than like it,” Sethos admits, letting his eyes close. He can hear your heart beating against his ear, the steady drum-like rhythm like a lullaby.
He nuzzles his head against you, enjoying the comfort he finds in the proximity.
“If we could stay like this forever,” he mumbles, “I’d want nothing more.” Sethos’ hand glides across your body, tracing your curves and lines in an almost reverent manner. His touch is light, as if he was touching fine china.
He shifts slightly against you, leaning up to murmur against your shoulder. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, the words like a quiet breath of wind upon your skin.
"So fucking lovely."
Shenhe
Shenhes head rests gently against your chest, listening to the beating of your heart. The quiet sounds of your breathing, a steady in-and-out rhythm, soothe her like a lullaby. Being this close to you is something she never knew she craved, like a parched person being given water in the desert.
Shenhe sighs, content. "Your heartbeat is beautiful," she mumbles, nuzzling her cheek into your skin.
"Good?" She nods against your chest. "Yes," she whispers. "Good."
She closes her eyes, letting the steady beat of your heart lull her into a feeling of security. Shenhe gently runs her fingers along your arm, exploring the feeling of your skin under her touch, wanting to commit it to memory forever. She's never felt more at peace than in this moment in your arms. She tugs the blanket around herself, pressing herself closer to you. The silence between you is comfortable, a quietness that is soft and warm like freshly laundered blankets. Shenhe's hand finds yours, her fingers weaving between yours like vines. She holds onto you in your embrace, her body fitting perfectly against yours. She could stay like this for hours, a moment of peace in a lifetime of turmoil.
"We could do this more often."
Shinobu
"Youre tense..." She leans into your touch immediately, relaxing under your hands with a soft shudder. She lets out a low breath, closing her eyes and pressing her face into the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry," she whispers against your skin. "Being near you simply… makes me a bit nervous."
She pauses, then she laughs quietly.
"I'm not used to this." She's silent for a few moments, inhaling the scent of your skin and simply listening to your heartbeat, and then she nuzzles against you again.
"You smell nice," she murmurs, her voice a soft whisper against your shoulder. "You always smell so good. Like flowers. Better than those guys from the gang."
"And your hair really soft." "Mm..." her grip on your arms tightens ever so slightly at the mention of her hair. The tips of her ears look faintly pink, though it's impossible to say if it's from the heat or because of embarrassment.
"You think so?"
There's a note of insecurity in her voice. She's not quite looking at you, but instead just resting her head against your shoulder again, like she's hiding.
"It's not… too unkempt?"
"Not at all. It's perfect."
Sigewinne - platonic
"How are your studies." "I'm doing my best." Sigewinne responds, her voice quiet. She's curled up against you, her head resting on your chest, listening to the comforting sound of your heartbeat.
"Human bodies are so fragile," she whispers, her hand splayed across your torso. "No wonder they're so scared of everything. Their hearts beat so quickly. And their skin is warm," she continues, eyes falling closed. She focuses the full force of her senses on the steady drumming of your pulse, on the gentle rise and fall of your chest.
"You're so warm." She murmurs, burying her face into your neck.
"Maybe I should start studying you!"
Succrose
Succrose's hair is splayed loosely over her face, her head resting on your chest as you cuddle. No matter how many times you hold her, she never gets used to the touch. It's too much; you're too much. She can't get enough.
Her fingers cling to you as though you are water in the desert, her skin pressing against yours as if she needs you to be alive. "I love this," she admits, the words whispered as if they're a secret. Her breath is warm against your skin. Her hair is like silk running through your fingers. She's more relaxed than usual, her body soft and supple as she melts into the comfort of your touch.
She lets out a shaky breath, burying her face into your shirt. You can hear the rapid beating of her heartbeat in her chest, can feel the nervous tremors running through her slender frame. "I'm glad you do."
She nods, burying her face into your chest again. "I don’t understand how you’re so perfect," she mumbles against your skin.
"It doesn't make...sense..."
Thoma
As you lean against his chest, Thoma's arms wrap around you in a gentle embrace. He is warm, comfortable. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of you as if he is drinking you in.
"I could stay like this forever," he murmurs in your ear. His hair brushes your cheek, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart. Cuddling in a meadow like this...is beautiful. His hand finds your own, and he runs his fingers over your skin. His touch is light, like a whisper, but there is something reverent in the way he holds you. He holds you as if you are fragile. Breakable. Precious. As if simply being allowed to touch you is a privilege.
"Me too." He runs his fingers over your wrist, tracing invisible patterns across your skin with his fingertips. His other hand comes up to thread through your hair. A quiet chuckle escapes Thoma's lips as he hears your words. He tightens his hold on you just a little, as if to reassure himself that you are still here, still in his arms. Still his.
"You know," he murmurs, shifting so that his chin is on your shoulder, "sometimes I worry that you know me too well."
Tighnari
Tighnari, sits with his back pressed against a tree. You are in his lap, sitting between his legs. One of his hands drifts idly through the hair at the nape of your neck, fingers gently scratching against your scalp.
He can hear your breathing. Feel the rise and fall of your chest. Your warmth against his, the faint scent of your hair.
His head tilts against yours, resting his chin against your shoulder and closing his eyes.
"Oh look! Fireflies!." His eyes flutter open again as you speak, the soft utterance bringing a small smile to his face. He cranes his neck to look at the fireflies dancing amongst the trees. "They're pretty." Tighnari murmurs, his lips nearly brushing against your ear as he speaks. His fingers play idly with the hair at the nape of your neck, the callouses on his hands catching gently against your skin. The fireflies cast a soft, glowing light over the two of you. It makes your skin glow.
Tighnari's chest tightens.
"You're pretty." He says, the words a quiet murmur against your hair.
Venti
Venti is sitting with you on a sturdy tree branch, comfortably resting on your lap. The Anemo Archon leans against you, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck, basking in the warmth of your body. The two of you are high up in the air, surrounded by a sea of swaying trees and stars.
The wind god is silent for a moment, before speaking again. "I didn't think you would summon me this late in the night." Venti remarks casually, as if he’s not currently cuddled up on your lap."Summon? I asked and you agreed-!" "I know," Venti responds with a laugh, nuzzling his face further against your neck. "I'm just saying. You almost always call me earlier in the day."
Venti takes a moment to enjoy the close contact, humming softly in contentment. "I am a little curious - why did you request for me to come here? I'd think you'd be asleep by now."
"You don't like it?" "No, I do. I like it very much," Venti replies quickly, lifting his head away from your neck to look at you properly.
He is silent for a moment, his eyes dancing in the night, illuminated only by the faint shine of the stars. Then, Venti smiles; a gentle, lopsided smile, almost sheepish. "I was just wondering," he reassures.
"That's all."
Wriothesley
"You sure everyone's asleep?" You ask worried after hearing another sound from outside his office. "Absolutely," he murmurs in reply, his chin resting against your shoulder. There's an easy, quiet confidence in his words, and not a hint of concern.
His hands rest on your hips, thumbs absently rubbing circles against your skin where just below your shirt, his arms keeping you pinned to him, chest against your back. "We're safe," he breathes against your neck. He shifts a little in his chair and tugs you closer against him, hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist. He buries his face against the expanse of bare skin, kissing your skin absentmindedly.
"Besides, you and I both know I can make you keep quiet, don't we, darling?"
You playfully swat his arm, "No respect for a god-!" He laughs, the sound deep and rich, like smoke curling through a forest. His lips find the junction between your shoulder and your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses before nipping at it.
His hands slide under the edge of your shirt, calloused fingers tracing up the smooth skin of your stomach.
"A god who's sitting in my lap, letting me touch and kiss and taste her like this?" He murmurs, licking a stripe along the curve of your shoulder.
"I'm showing you plenty of respect."
Xiangling - aged up
She is sitting on your lap, blushing as she hears her name fall from your lips.
She's never been used to this sort of attention before, and the feeling of you holding her makes her heart flutter in her chest. She can feel the warmth of your body through her clothes, and her mind can't help but wonder what it would be like to be even closer to you.
As you take a bite of her food, she watches your reaction expectantly, praying you will say you like it.
"Xiangling?! That's amazing-!" Xianglings heart swells with pride. To receive your praise, and to see your satisfaction at something she has created just for you...it's more than she ever thought she'd be granted.
"Really?" she stutters, eyes wide as she turns to look up at you, "you really like it?" "Mhm!" Your response makes Xianglings heart feel as if it might stop right there. A smile threatens to burst from her lips, one that threatens to stretch across her whole face and light her up like a star. You have made her happier than she's been in a long time, and Xiangling can't help but adore you for it.
"I'm so glad," she says, her voice full of joy. You love her cooking. You really do, and that makes her feel like the luckiest person on Teyvat.
"Whats this by the way? It's really good-!"
"Hilichurl."
"WHAT?!"
Xiao
He stiffens, his body going rigid at the sensation of being cuddled, being held closely in that way. It seems that this is a whole new experience for him.
"What—" He stops himself and inhales deeply, his body quivering against yours as he tries to process the feel of it all. The warmth, the nearness. The comfort.
Xiao swallows heavily a few times. His voice is quiet when he speaks again. "I've never…"
"Shh, relax." It's hard for him to relax, at first.
Xiao has never been held, never been loved like this. Every muscle in his body is rigid, quivering with a strange, foreign feeling.
But he forces himself to try. Slowly, he relaxes, letting the tension flow from his body into the night, until he's all but melting in your arms. "This is new," he mutters. "But I like it."
"Told you." He laughs quietly at your words and presses himself a little closer against you, burying his face into your neck, against your bare skin. He murmurs something against your skin, voice soft. "How is it that you always end up being right?"
"Heh-" "Shut up."
Xianyun
Xianyun's breath stutters as you lay against her chest. She is still for a moment— and then, like a dam breaking, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you close. Her arms are firm and strong, yet all she wants to do is hold you. She breathes out a soft, shaky sigh against your hair.
“You are mine,” she whispers. Xianyun's chest rises and falls as she holds you, her arms wrapped around you like a coil. Her heart pounds against your ear, her fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes. It is as though she is afraid you might slip away, as though there is nothing she would not do if it meant staying near you.
"Please," she pleads, her voice soft and desperate. She wants to say more, but the words stick to her tongue. What comes out instead is nothing but a whisper, a fervent prayer in the shape of a single word.
"Stay."
Xinyan
She lets out a content sound, her head in your lap. She feels safe here. Protected. Loved. She closes her eyes and allows herself to listen to you talk. The sound of your voice is sweet, comforting, lulling her worries into obscurity. For now, all is well.
"What happened?" *she asks, when you take a pause in talking. She opens her eyes and gazes up at you, curious what had happened to make your day notable.
"Nothing, just keep relaxing." You say with a smile. She hums her agreement. She buries her face in your stomach, wrapping her arms around you. Her fingers gently run up and down your back, her touch as light as a moth’s wing.
"‘m relaxin’," she mumbles, her voice muffled. Xinyan feels sleep tugging at the corners of her consciousness. The rhythm of your breath, your warmth beneath her skin, and the sweet scent you carry are all threatening to drag her into oblivion. One last thing weighs on her mind, her thoughts fuzzy and tired.
"Tell me somethin' before I fall asleep," she requests, half-whining as she speaks.
"I love you..."
"....me...too....w-wai...t...?"
Xingqiu - aged up
Xingqiu reads the words from the page aloud, his voice low and soothing. He murmurs your name softly, his lips caressing the syllables with a tender reverence.
He is comfortable in your embrace. His body sits flush against yours, a warm and constant presence. He pauses the story every now and then, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder before continuing.
He reads to you until the moon is high in the sky, and you have long drifted off to sleep, still cuddling him. Xingqiu sets the book aside, smiling fondly at the sight of you sleeping, peaceful as they come. He takes a moment to trace his eyes over your features, his gaze tender and warm.
He pulls the blankets up around your shoulders, and then he shifts to lay down beside you, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling against your warmth. Xingqiu pulls you close, his nose buried against the crook of your neck. He inhales slowly, breathing in your scent.
His fingers trace mindless patterns over your hip, the movement as steady and soothing as a heartbeat. He shifts his leg so that it is tangled with yours, trying to get as close to you as he can.
He whispers your name, the sound like a secret meant for your ears only.
The world melts into a comfortable silence, with Xingqiu and you, holding each other in the dark.
Yae Miko
"Stop it-!" "I don't think I will," Miko teases, her voice light as she watches you thrash around in her embrace. She presses her fingers into the underside of your ribcage once more, just to feel you squirm. "Besides," she continues in a softer tone, "You look rather adorable like this."
Her hand moves to your tummy, gently tracing the ticklish skin there, watching as your eyes clamp shut and your laughter rings.
Seeing you like this, writhing and helpless, is all Miko has ever wanted. She has her arm pinned around your torso, trapping you against her, her slender fingers dancing down your side as she mercilessly continues to tease you.
Her lips brush against your ear. "Be a good girl and hold still for me, hm?"
"That's it," she praises in a low murmur, her voice like a hum against your ear. "Stay right there. Just like that."
Miko's hand still wanders across your skin, the tip of her forefinger tracing circles that make your toes curl and the sound of laughter slip past your lips despite your efforts to stay still.
"Fuck you-!"
"You will, later."
Yanfei
"And what is NOT against the law?" As you ask your question, Yanfei rests her head in your arms, relaxing in your presence. She blinks and tilts her head like a puppy, considering your question for a few moments.
"Hmm," she hums, her gaze drifting somewhere off in the distance before she looks back at you. She smiles. "Everything is legal when done in the name of love," she says, her voice lilting in a way that indicates she's joking. Your words make her think. Her eyes flutter as her thoughts race, and a moment later, Yanfei lets out a soft huff, snuggling even closer.
"Being happy," she adds in a quiet murmur, her words a little mumbled against your skin. "Being alive. Being free."
Her chin lifts as she shifts, turning to look at you once more.
"As far as I know, everything else is against the law," a soft huff follows her words, and she presses a kiss against the side of your neck. Another moment of silence falls before Yanfei opens her mouth, a gentle exhale against your skin as she continues.
"Did you know,” she adds, her words hushed and soft like the night breeze, "that being beautiful is also not against the law?"
She pauses, shifting a little, her body moving even closer. The room is quiet, nothing breaking the silence.
“Because if it were,” she whispers, and she lifts a hand to gently cup your cheek, “You’d be in deep trouble.”
Yaoyao - platonic
Yaoyao buries her head into you, seeking the comfort your presence brings. Her arms wrap around your torso, pulling herself closer to you. She presses her face into your shoulder, closing her eyes as she breaths in your scent.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely louder than a breath. For a moment, she feels safe. Like you'll guard her from all harm.
"It's cold without you."
"After all I told you, if you fell lonely on your little adventures, come to me." A shudder runs through her body as Yaoyao clings to you even more, her fingers digging into the fabric of your clothing, as if she's loath to let go.
"Can I stay?" she asks, the words tumbling from her lips like water from a river bank. Despite the pleading in her voice, her head is still buried in your shoulder.
"Please, I want to stay with you. I always wanted to live here for a while-!"
Yelan
Yelan's breath hitches when you pull her closer, her head against your chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "This is all I need," she mumbles, the words falling from her lips before she can stop them. "Just this, forever. I don't need anything else." She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes closing as she nuzzles into you, resting her head against your shoulder. Even in your embrace, you can feel her body relax as if the simple touch took some great tension out of her.
"A gooood nap...Mm... Sounds like heaven," she mumbles sleepily against your skin, not bothering to hide her smile. Yelan drapes an arm across your torso, pulling herself even closer to you. She practically melts against your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a cat seeking warmth. A soft, contented hum rumbles in her chest, her breathing steady and slow as she buries her face against you.
"With you."
Yoimiya
She melts under your touch, leaning against your body and letting out a soft and contented sigh. Her eyes flutter closed as she soaks in your presence, a gentle smile playing across her lips. Every touch of your hands sends a shiver of pleasure through her, her skin burning wherever you make contact. She nuzzles against your side, relishing the feeling of your body pressed against hers.
"I could stay here like this forever," she whispers. "Just you and me.. in this perfect moment...watching fireworks." The colorful explosions of light in the sky are beautiful, but to Yoimiya, even their beauty is dull compared to you. Her eyes remain fixed on you, watching the way the bursts of rainbow light reflect off your skin, dancing across your eyes like living flames.
She reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She draws your palm to her lips, pressing a reverent and tender kiss to your skin.
"You are more beautiful than any fireworks," she whispers.
Yun Jin
"It was beautiful, breathtaking. You almost brought me to tears." She nuzzles closer to you at the praise, her heart fluttering like a bird's wing beating against a ribcage. She tucks her head against your chest with a sigh, her heart still beating much too fast from the high of preforming. Adrenaline still courses through her veins, making her head spin and her hands tremble when they grip onto you to steady her.
"I'm glad you think so," she says, her voice a little sheepish. "I just... worry about my preforming sometimes. I think I'm not good enough." Yun Jin buries her head against your chest, refusing to look you in the eyes as she spills her innermost fears and anxieties. She keeps her arms around you, scared she'll lose you if she lets go even an inch.
"I don't think my voice is good or the way I dance is captivating. I just..." then she laughs.
"No it's stupid. We all worry, mostly over nothing. I'm good...I'm very good...and you always tell me so it must be true."
Zhongli
Zhongli is still as a statue at your side; his body tense and stiff. But as you begin to pull him closer, he begins to melt in your arms.
Tentatively, he allows his head to rest against your shoulder, his breaths coming out in a shudder. He's still hesitant, but he lets you pull him closer. He wants to touch you back; to embrace you as you embrace him. But would he be crossing some invisible line he cannot see? He doesn't want to offend you.
"Let loose and relax." You reassure. Zhongli's mind is racing with thoughts— what if he does the wrong thing? What if he displeases you?
But his body seems to act of its own accord, as though some invisible weight was lifted from his shoulders as soon as you spoke.
He slowly leans against you, his body relaxing. He burrows closer to you, wrapping his arms weakly around your waist.
"I've never felt more awkward." You laugh.
"Agreed...I apolog-" "shush-! I love this."
4K notes · View notes
intromortal · 1 month ago
Text
LIQUID SWEETENER
Tumblr media
jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.
PAIRING jake x f!reader
CONTENT smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care
WORD COUNT 3.8k
a.n happiest birthday to my love !!!! nia era where she doesn't let everything she writes rot in her google docs bc she's not happy enough with it??? gasp. maybe. thank you to my lovely @ak4e7a for being so patient with me and reading what i write before anyone else so i don't look stupid i love you mama
WARNINGS fingering, spit, biting, implied oral f!rec, cum eating
Jake’s pout got somehow more pronounced than what it already was when you, once again, refused to just take your medicine. He’d been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you just hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin. He even made sure to pick out a syrup that wouldn’t taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he could picture it right then in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again.
For how much you hated being sick, you seemed to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.
“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighed, resting the cap filled to the brim with sticky honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge.
“Not even that sick,” you huffed back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep.
“Yeah?” Jake looked at you with an arched brow, before pointing his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding ground for bioterrorism allegations.”
He stopped you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispered against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.
“Just wan’ you.”
“But you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?” he snickered, plump lips thinning into that gorgeous wide smile of his.
He knew damn well what you meant, a frustrated grumble spilling out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wanted you to say it out loud. The quiet part.
“Want…more,” you cranked one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slipped in it. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observed you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.
If Jake had to be completely honest with himself, he wasn’t particularly sad at you being a little sick.
Sure, it sounded mean to say out loud. But you were not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoyed doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to just take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl had a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work.
You were always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoyed knowing he was helping make it at least a little better for once.
You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he was making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprayed on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.
Jake took notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it. Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licked away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick didn’t help, being physically weak and needing rest didn’t stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you had nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupted your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You looked up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he was about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”
Really not being dramatic, but you thought you felt a boulder crush you right on your chest. You groaned, turning to the other side so you could sulk properly without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you would love to ride as soon as possible.
“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice was muffled by the pillow you were squishing your face against.
“What are you even doing.”
“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me,” you explained, grabbing the sides of the pillow and pushing them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles.
“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he barely whispered, the loving tone making your body feel light.
You suddenly pushed yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement, “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”
He looked at you for a moment, really looked at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too missed your touch, far more than what he was letting on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—had turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions, finding himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom.
As if sensing his resolve wavering, you added, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”
“A reward… for what?” Jake was thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever got like this, and he was enjoying every second of it, maybe even pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. But he didn’t care, not when he didn’t know when the next time he’d get to this would be.
“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”
“You still have a fever though,” he deadpanned. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”
“That.” you glared at him with all the fake anger you could muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”
“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”
“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words died in your throat as you felt the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee. You looked up to him as he slowly got inside the covers, right next to you. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.
“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispered against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he snuck an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his side. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”
You reached for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guided it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you ground your pussy against it.
You took notice of how his breath hitched in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you used his hand, the illusion wearing off even more when he tried to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You knew he wanted it just as bad as you did, you were just willing to beg for it as long as it got you what you wanted. “I’ll—” you audibly gasped when he flexed his fingers just that tiny little bit you needed to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”
“Anything?” he teased you, voice light and airy as he moved the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickled your neck, Jake’s mouth having dipped down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.
“Anything, just… please,” you whined, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.
If you hadn't been so deprived of Jake’s touch up until then, you would have found the way you were grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you were desperate, so you couldn't bring yourself to care about how pathetic you probably looked.
Jake though, oh he enjoyed it thoroughly. His cock was stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you were through your shorts. Dripping already and he had barely touched you. You were just so fucking hot.
“You’ll take your medicine then?” He moved his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak one clawing at his arm in an attempt to get the little taste of pleasure he was giving you back. He kissed his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”
“Take my medicine,” you whimpered, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little cheeky shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.
“Theeeere we go,” Jake sang in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”
You nodded, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound would make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh came up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smoothed over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.
“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbled, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your neck. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole onto your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.
His free hand finally slid under your shorts, a gasp leaving you because of how cold he felt. Jake was always warmer than you, but your fever made it so his touch felt icy against your skin. Your back arched slightly when one of his digits parted your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.
“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggled into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly dragged them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”
Usually you would’ve groaned at his stupid little jokes and pushed his face away. But this time, blame his voice being deeper and hoarser than normal or blame your fever, it got you clenching around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he took his sweet time playing with you.
Your head dug deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.
“So needy…” he breathed into your neck, going back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach.
A yelp left your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you had closed shooting open when Jake bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smoothed over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, pleasure overriding anything else.
Jake finally prodded two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction was instantaneous, pussy hole fluttering against his fingertips right away, he just had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”
Jake was so fucking turned on, he could barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind was get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He felt like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life was just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seemed different to him, almost animalistic, the way you rutted your hips against his hand as soon as he started scissoring his fingers inside you, the way you weren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this was just from his fingers.
You yourself weren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you helped Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you felt from the fever. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right spots you knew you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles dragged against your walls so deliciously.
“S-so good,” you gasped when he turned his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knew had you coming undone in just a few strokes.
The room was filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You could feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashed on you, heavy and almost painful. You clawed at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake was not facing you anymore.
He looked over his shoulder to the comforter, the cap filled with syrup still there amidst the mess. He twisted his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he was fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spilled onto his shirt as he took a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tried his best to hold it in his mouth. You were still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty so much so you didn't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.
“J-jake, I’m so close.”
Perfect timing.
Jake grabbed your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure he always did to signal it was time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he knew you to be. And you did just that; immediately following his movements like he had trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure. He bent down slightly to aim better. But this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expected, he let small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.
You uselessly tried to back away from him, but he held you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor did he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand held your jaw open, grasp getting firmer everytime you tried to break free of it. After all, you made a promise, and he was going to make sure you fulfilled it.
“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouthed against your lips once he had made sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”
He smashed his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss as a silencing of any complaint you were about to spit it at him. Those turned to even more whines when he finally brought his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucked you to your orgasm. It was almost instantaneous, but you just couldn't have helped it even if you tried; you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit
“That’s it baby, so good for me yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slowed down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too was relishing in how your cunt pulsed against his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh he wished it were his cock being constricted like that instead. But that could wait.
You finally felt like you could breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you could, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.
The sheets were drenched around you, and you couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you could immediately tell you weren't the only one who had made a mess. Your gaze wandered to Jake’s pants, a very evident stain on his crotch catching your attention. And fuck, if you weren't ready to do it all over again.
Jake looked absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste truly.
You snuck your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake let out when you wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.
Jake watched you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you licked your fingers clean. He slid his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up as much as you just did to him. His heart raced in his chest as you kept looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.
“That was so…” you spoke up, giggling when Jake interrupted you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.
“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”
“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”
Jake curled an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He placed a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”
“Well I still hav–”
“And won’t.” he deadpanned, sensing where you were trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”
You smiled to yourself, feeling featherlight kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He placed a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grabbed a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rested his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.
“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you said, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzled his head further against your skin.
“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He placed another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you took too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”
“Jake. I’m being serious.”
“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughed at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”
“You are downright insufferable.”
“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”
The rest of the sentence was muffled against your mound as you pushed his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.
“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggled as you laid back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue made contact with your cunt.
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pedrasacorn · 4 months ago
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Pairings: Jason x fem!reader
Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, head injury
Summary: self indulgent,
“Hood—” your broken voice cuts through his adrenaline rush, echoing through the dark, damp alleyway.
He holsters his guns quickly, “Hey hey hey—hey sweetheart. Look at me.” He brushes the blood stained hair away from your eyes, “There she is…I gotchu sweet thing.” His voice feels so distant, morphed by the modulator in his helmet into something you don’t recognize.
Your eyes start to wander to the mess of blood. He blocks your sight with his body, “No…You of all people, don’t need to see that,” He cups your cheek, tilting your face up, “That’s not for you okay? You keep those eyes on me.”
He removes his gloves. Although his bare hands are clean, the blood is always there.
His fingertips barely touch your cheek, just enough to ground you.
The red of his helmet warps as tears blur your vision. He quickly swipes them away. “That scumbag is not worth your tears.”
His eyes follow your tears as they mix with the blood on your face. Not your blood. He grimaces.
God nothing bad should ever get the chance to touch you. Yet here he was with his palm cradling your face. He, is a hypocrite.
“I’m taking you to my safe house, s’that okay?”
Your throat feels too raw to speak. So you nod.
The world around you tilts, before strong arms wrap around your shoulders, “Easy there sweets, I gotcha.”
He scoops you up. This man who you’ve seen toss full grown men like rag dolls—still surprises you because you weigh nothing. You feel like you weigh nothing, but you’re not holding yourself. Wait he weighs…you to him weigh…you weigh to him like…which one of you weighs nothing?
“Jay I don’ feel good.” You croak.
“Shh I know sweetheart, I know. Almost home.”
You barely register being set down on the bathroom counter.
He unclips his helmet, and tosses it to the floor. Something stirs within when his green eyes meet yours.
“I saw it,” Your voice trembles as unshed tears choke you, “the blood.”
His brows are furrowed with concern, his full bottom lip is almost a pout. Angels above he has never looked softer. It helps sooth every bit of reluctance now that you can see his face again.
Your eyes feel heavy.
His thumb brushes over your brow, “Open those eyes f’me. Please…” You squint at him as he brings a small flashlight to your eye line.
You knew this one, you’d watched asmr videos of it.
“Concoction.”
He huffs through his nose, a smile lilting his mouth, pulling at the scar above his lip. “Concussion sweetness. Follow the light.”
You do so halfheartedly, not much of an overachiever right now. “S’con-cuntion?” Your tongue feels heavy, clumsy in your mouth.
“Yeah…s’okay though I’ve had plenty of my own. You’re staying here tonight.”
The cotton filling your brain makes your nod feel weightless.
A warm washcloth is brought your cheek, you lean into it happily letting it melt the bite of the cold alley still clinging to your skin. God you can’t remember the last time someone touched you like this.
“You with me pretty girl?” He croons, as he wipes the dried blood from your brow, and cheeks.
You nod, almost dazed.
Tears blur your vision, but he doesn’t try to stop you from crying, just patiently wipes them away with the cloth.
Contently closing your eyes you whisper, “Your hands are soft.”
He is careful not to wear his heart anywhere near his sleeve, and somehow you’ve coaxed him into wearing it on his face. “You’re soft.” He murmurs.
The blood is finally gone.
He sets you down on his bed, keeping you propped up on the bedpost, “Don’t lay down yet.” He coaxes.
You focus on the coolness of the wood, until the bed dips next to you.
“I’m gonna help you get dressed, in the least mortifying way for you possible. I’m so sorry but also…” his eyes rake over you, “I’m not letting you catch the disease that killed the dinosaurs.”
Touché. Who knows what Gotham has cooked up in her petri dish.
“S’okay, m’clothes feel gross.”
He nods curtly before oh so gently lifting your sweater over your head, quickly swapping it for his tshirt.
It smells good—like spring—but you wish he’d given you one off his back. It’d smell like him.
You hold up the shirt to keep it out of contact with your pants. As careful as diffusing a bomb he unbuttons them. “Lift your hips f’me.” He holds you steady, one hand on your hip as the other tugs them down your legs. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you lean your body weight against him.
“Ya good like this? I have pants they’re just…large.”
You let the shirt back down, it thankfully falls past your hips. “M’okay.”
You’re weightless again as he lifts you, gently laying you on the mass of pillows.
“Oh hallelujah.” You sigh.
Something brushes your nose, you pry your eyes open to be met with his.
“Swallow these.” You wash the pills down with the bottle of water he presses against your lips.
“You’re gonna hate me for the next 24 hours.” He gently brushes the hair out of your eyes with his thumb.
“S’okay ’cause I love you even when I hate you.”
He huffs amusedly. It’s not the same love he feels for you, it can’t be.
“Yeah…I love ya too.”
———
A/n: I stayed up way too late so the concussion yapping is just me trying to figure out what I’m trying to say
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wheeboo · 5 months ago
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for a moment, forever | choi seungcheol
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SYNOPSIS. in which while shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend, you can't help but want to try one on too. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. jihyo from twice as reader's engaged best friend) GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mild cursing, terms of endearment, reader wears a wedding dress, cheol doesn't show up until like halfway into the fic HAHAH WORD COUNT. 2.2k
notes: this is lowkey me describing my dream dress if i do somehow get married lmao so also self indulgent too ig, and it was fun searching up dresses! this also reminds me of that one scene from extraordinary attorney woo. if u know u know :') happy belated bday cheol <3
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[02:39PM | y/n] should be done with jihyo's appointment in a few hours!! you can pick me up then bub❤️
[2:41PM | cheol 💕] Sounds good, my love. I'll see you then 😊
"Wait, oh my God, that one is beautiful!"
"Right?!" Jihyo exclaims eagerly before swiping to the next photo in her camera roll, on it displayed a gorgeous mermaid wedding dress that she had saved from Pinterest. "Okay, not sure if I like the mermaid ones but this was one was too pretty to not be saved."
"You can always ask to try one on too. I still think you'd rock whichever one you put on," You tell her, lacing an arm around hers as the two of you approach the bridal boutique that was just around the corner. "I still can't believe you're getting married."
When you and Jihyo exchange knowing glances with each other, squeals of excitement escape both of you. It feels surreal, almost like a dream knowing that your best friend is about to walk down the aisle and take her first steps into married life. Just ahead of the two of you, the bridal boutique gleams with soft lights and elegantly displayed gowns in the windows.
As you both step inside, the cozy warmth of the boutique wraps around you, and a subtle, lingering floral scent and delicate perfume fills the air. The interior is enchanting yet inviting, with a variety of dresses arranged by style. The boutique's consultant greets you both with a welcoming smile, and after a brief chat and a rundown of the different options, she leads you to a private area where Jihyo can begin her fitting.
You follow Jihyo as she naturally gravitates towards the gowns on display. You can tell she's already picturing herself in each dress. It's a bit overwhelming being surrounded by so many intricately designed dresses, like you've walked straight into a world of fairytale. Lace, satin, tulle𑁋every fabric imaginable seems to be represented here.
While helping Jihyo pick out some dresses, you can't lie that some have caught your eye more than you can admit. Knowing that one day these dresses will be worn by someone on of the most important days of your life fills you with awe. The thought makes your heart full, and briefly, you can't but help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle one day.
For a moment, your mind flickers to the thought of Seungcheol, and your heart does a jump.
One particular white tulle, floral embroidered dress with off-shoulder sleeves catches your attention. It's a perfect blend of elegance and romance. You let your hand run over the delicate embroidery, marvelling with admiration at the elaborate details caressed over every inch of it. The floral patterns are so finely crafted that they seem to bloom like real flowers right out of the fabric.
"Y/N, you need to try that on right now!"
You turn swiftly at the sound of Jihyo's commanding voice. "What? No, I can't𑁋"
"Come on, please!" Jihyo urges insistently while holding just about a dozen dresses in her hands. "It's so beautiful!"
"But this is for your special day, not𑁋"
"Honey, you and Seungcheol have been together for so long now, and sooner or later, you're going to have your special day too. Just try it on for fun, and I’d love to see how it looks on you!"
Okay, she really didn't have to bring up Seungcheol like that, but now you can't get it out of your head. An odd, fluttery feeling bursts in your stomach on top of the embarrassment crawling up your neck.
"Fine," You relent with a playful look. "But I'll do it after you try on all your dresses. Once again, today is for you, missy."
A wide grin spreads across her face as she shuffles towards the fitting room. "It's a deal!"
The next hour or so you spend lounging on the couch as Jihyo tries on dress after dress. Each one seems to bring out a different side of her: from elegant to dramatic, playful to sophisticated. You can’t help but laugh and cheer her on, snapping pictures and videos to capture every moment. You also help with various aspects of the fittings, from adjusting straps to even adding the veil on her head.
"You look like a princess!" You exclaim, clapping your hands as she twirls in a voluminous ball gown in front of the mirror.
"I feel like one!" Jihyo giggles, even doing a dramatic hair flip to add for an endearing touch.
The last one that she tries on is a mermaid dress with stunning lace detailing and a long, flowing train that spreads across the floor like ocean waves. As she steps out of the fitting room, the dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she looks every bit of a confident, radiant bride shining in her own element.
"Girl," You gasp out, voice full of awe. "that dress was made for you. You look absolutely stunning!"
Jihyo gazes at herself in the mirror. "Really?"
"Yes!" You claim, and you almost want to cry thinking about your best friend walking down the aisle. "I can so picture you walking down the aisle in this, holy shit."
Jihyo chuckles bashfully at your reaction.
"I'm going to be a bride," she says aloud, somewhat to herself and in a way announcing to the world too, before turning to you with a gleeful expression. "I'm going to be a bride!"
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[04:45PM | cheol 💕] Are you done, sweetheart? I got to leave work earlier and just arrived at the place. Might come in since it's boiling outside 😅
"I really don't know about this𑁋"
"Come on, just try it on!" Jihyo nudges you ever so slightly to the fitting room, the dress trembling in your grasp. "This will be us doing some early preparations for your wedding, 'kay?"
Reluctantly, you find yourself stepping into the fitting room, the dress in your hands feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Taking a long, deep breath, you start to change into the dress as the consultant comes to your side to assist.
At first, the fabric feels odd against your skin, the delicate embroidery and soft tulle brushing against your shoulders as you put on the dress. The off-shoulder sleeves fit surprisingly snug when you slip them through your arms. The floral patterns seem to come alive right before your eyes, just like they had when you first saw the dress.
You take the first glance of yourself in the mirror in the fitting room, and it's almost as if you've been kicked in the gut and all the words had left you.
"Wow," You whisper to yourself, doing a small spin to see how the dress looks, and it feels absolutely magical to be the one wearing this dress right now.
Scrambling slightly, you look around your scattered belongings on the floor for your phone, knowing that you just have to capture this very moment before you would have to take the dress off.
But you can't find your phone anywhere.
"Crap, where did I put it?" You mumble annoyedly, having to move your dress around to get a better look, yet you still don't see it. Did you leave it outside? "Hey, Jihyo! If you're out there, can you pass me my phone?"
No response.
"Jihyo?"
Still no response.
Deflating your shoulders, you decide you might as well step outside to retrieve it.
"I didn't think the dress would fit this good. It's a bit heavier than I thought but I think I could manage𑁋"
And then you freeze, almost as if you were caught red-handed committing some sort of heinous crime, because Seungcheol is standing not that far away from you, eyes wide with disbelief and mouth dropped down to the floor at the sight of you wearing the wedding dress.
For a few moments, it's like the world stops as well, and you start to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.
"Cheol? What are you..." Then you look down at yourself and the dress you were wearing. "You're here earlier than I-I thought, I should go change𑁋"
Seungcheol blinks back to reality from your words. "Wait, no, don't move, please."
He keeps his eyes locked on you, his gaze moving from your face, to the way the dress hugs and accentuates your figure in all the right ways, then back up again. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you stand there, awkwardly holding the hem of the dress in your sweaty hands.
You can hear your heart pounding in your chest. This is not how you imagined seeing Seungcheol after Jihyo's appointment. You were expecting a casual, friendly greeting, maybe a quick kiss, and then a drive home. But this... this is different. You've been with Seungcheol for years, but he's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time.
"Wow, I..." He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're fucking breathtaking, honey."
Your cheeks burn brighter than ever, some sort of choked sound leaving you at his bluntness. You glance down at the dress, then back at Seungcheol.
"You... You think so?" You ask, voice timid and tainted with unsureness.
"Think so?" he repeats, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so. I can't take my eyes off you."
A rush of heat climbs up your neck as you avert your eyes away, pretending to adjust the hem of the dress, fingers clumsily tugging at the material. The dress suddenly feels suffocatingly hot and you don't know how much more you can take.
His eyes still don't leave you even when he steps closer, the features of his face softening into simply an adoring look.
You could feel your feet melting into the ground below. "Cheol, I should really go change𑁋"
"Not yet," he says firmly, and you stay put. "Just let me look at you for a little longer, please?"
That familiar, pleading tone to his voice makes your heart run laps in your chest and causes your knees to feel like jelly. He takes a few more steps towards you, and before you know, he's standing right in front of you, half-lidded eyes flickering between yours and your lips. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches out to gently cup your face, letting a finger trace slowly over your cheek, leaning in just close enough to whisper in your ear.
"I can't wait to marry you."
His words come out so quiet that you're barely able to hear it. And before you can respond, some loud, marching footsteps snaps you out of thought.
"Y/N! Look at this, I found the perfect veil for you!" When Jihyo sees you and Seungcheol, she stops short in her tracks, glancing at the sight of you in the dress and Seungcheol standing in front of you appearing as if he was just two seconds away from kissing you.
You clear your throat loudly, stepping away from Seungcheol and towards Jihyo.
"You found a veil for me?" You ask her.
"Yeah, put it on!" Jihyo hands you the dainty veil. "I went through hell trying to find a good one and I think this one works perfectly."
You feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you carry the veil towards the mirror and carefully place it over your head. The light, airy fabric showers down around you, complementing the elegant gown. As you adjust the veil to your liking, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and can't help but smile. You see Seungcheol in the mirror as well, staring at you with an intense gaze of admiration.
And when you turn around, Seungcheol thinks you look more beautiful than what his imagination could possibly give him. He has to bite at his bottom lip in order to suppress some of the giddiness threatening to spread throughout his body, and the thought of seeing you again in a wedding dress makes him almost dizzy.
You're like an angel who has stepped foot into his world. The dress houses your wings and the veil is your halo. It's a perfect vision of the future he’s been dreaming about for so long it nearly makes him burst; a reality that he never thought he'd be seeing so soon.
He's going to marry you𑁋he knows he will. He knew that from that moment you first smiled at him back in your freshman year English class, all because you both simply made unexpected eye contact while you were introducing yourself. He knew it even more when he embarrassingly fell on his ass during a university soccer game and your laugh was the only sound that he could hear.
This is his first peek of forever with you, and he can't wait for it to all come true.
Seungcheol faintly hears you ask what he thinks about it, and only the heavens know how much he wants to answer by putting that ring stashed in the depths of his bedside drawer on your finger right then and there. But there's a time and place for everything. He has to make sure everything is perfect first.
So, yeah, he should really get to planning. And right now seems like a good start.
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
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cuppajj · 6 months ago
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Neo beasts x reader head cannons? 🥺
You know what anon? Just for you
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Beast Ancients AU - Neo Beasts x Reader Headcanons
Congratulations! Someway somehow you’ve attracted the attention—and affection—of the Neo beasts. How do each treat you?
Saint Vanilla Cookie
This implies that he’s decided not to purify you out of his intense compassion. In fact, he’s settled for something arguably much worse: saving you for last, so you can witness his deliverance.
You’re his lamb, his bluebird, and he never lets you forget how blessed you are to be one of his
He’s gentle in almost every way. Voice, touch, words. He especially likes cupping your cheek and cooing sweet little things. Sometimes they’re laced with dark promises
On his orders, the Lambs of Penance are your personal servants and won’t let any harm befall you. Cream Wafer speaks to you respectfully, but you can hear a little envy in his voice
Saint pays attention to every little detail you have, the things you like, and your wishes. He wants to see you at your happiest because a tainted soul as yourself should never feel sad. He’ll wipe your tears away
But don’t assume he’s perfect; he’s far from. Saint stays true to his personal promise that you will be safe and happy and alive until the day he finally saves you, and that means that any potential threat to you will be dealt with by his lambs. If he thinks something will taint your soul further, he’ll be sure that it’ll never have the chance.
In fact, why don’t you stay with him? In his timeless kingdom, amongst his loyal followers and all the orchids that will watch over you. It’s the closest you’ll be to the light.
Make no mistake, saint is two steps away from being a yandere. He just wouldn’t get his hands dirty, and he would never change to that typical yandere-ish behavior. The oh so benevolent saint just wants to see you safe, and if that safety is under his wings, so be it…
Dragonberry Cookie
As the Beast of Pride, the way she loves is bold and loud. She will make it known to you that she loves you pretty quickly.
While she throws parties pretty frequently already, you’ll be center stage at a lot of them with her as she makes you dance together and drinks herself stupid with a bunch of glasses poured your way as well.
If you’re the shy type, expect to be embarrassed or put in big social situations a lot since she’s a massive extrovert who would bring you along to things. Outside of parties and other events of the sort, she would also love for you to watch her spar with Wildberry and her other soldiers
She’ll also give you lots of gifts
She does have a pretty big ego though, so she expects praise and validation from you. Compliments, acts of service, things that assure her you’re not just mooching off of what she gives you. If she thinks you’re not being grateful, she’ll get bitter and confront you about it, which will or won’t go well depending on how well you can prove your point to her
She’ll kill for you 100%. She might even do it in front of you. If you get messed up from that? It’s okay! You’ll get over it in no time.
Despite all this she does respect your boundaries, she’ll give you space if you’re vocal about it. She disappears on occasions and comes back covered in battle wounds and jam anyway.
You know about Pitaya locked up in her basement but you know not to touch them, let alone try and free them if you’re hero enough. She might just have to punish you for that if she catches you doing something you shouldn’t. Don’t worry though, it’s just this once, because you’ll surely never try anything again, right?
Big hugger, her love language is touch so expect hugs and kisses and mandatory cuddle sessions. Honestly if you’re just as messed as her then she’s a pretty solid lover
Frigid Cacao Cookie
It’s hard to tell he cares for you because he’s so distant, even from you.
You’re allowed into the throne room without summons, but the furthest into it you can go is to the foot of his throne. Like everyone else in the citadel, you’re not allowed to touch him.
Your days in the citadel are quiet. The outside is cold but the hallways and your room are warm, the latter always supplied to the brim with what you need.
Tiny licorice creatures slink in and out of your peripheral vision, watching you curiously. Sometimes they slink up to you, purring and chittering, and some might even be balancing trays of food, warm towels, clothes, or other things on their heads. Little do you know that Cacao has been ordering them to take care of you
While he doesn’t forbid you from leaving the kingdom, he’ll want you to come back to him one way or another. Ideally on your own, but one of the licorice oozes that have been watching you since you left could also bring you back.
You might see him out and about on rare occasions, and he might look at you. On even rarer occasions he might ask about your well being
The only thing he’s strict about is that you absolutely cannot attract attention from the other neobeasts, especially Saint Vanilla. The beast of Penance is already curious about learning what things make Cacao go soft; he does not need to learn about you.
Also don’t bring up Choco, he has a reaction to it
Celestial Cheese Cookie
Pampers you. Pampers you and pampers you and pampers you and pampers you
Thinks you’re the sweetest little thing and pinches your cheeks and everything
She’d be more than happy to show herself off, as well as all of her achievements. She gives you treasures from her conquests regularly
She’s similar to Dragonberry though where she expects praise, but unlike her she doesn’t get as angry. She doesn’t see her gift giving as a transactional thing, she does it because she can. You just gotta tell her how wonderful she is
The oases are a popular spot for her to bring you for food and refreshments, cared for by gold-adorned servants as she gushes over the grand vision for her kingdom. She’s honestly quite excitable and loves talking about herself and her plans.
Pay no mind to the scans that are run on you while you sleep, or the diagnostics of your information that run deep in her servers. She doesn’t think it’ll need to happen soon, but she’s planning to put you in a sarcophagus and hook you into her virtual world to make you live forever. She’s not going to let something else she cares about go.
Midnight Lily Cookie
The tamest one honestly
Unlike the others, she sees you as an equal. She knows your personal space and doesn’t encroach on it too much or too little, makes sure you’re well cared for and healthy, and keeps you safe. She also lets you leave and trusts you to take care of yourself. Being Beast of Sovereignty, she encourages the people under her to do whatever they please within their allegiance to her, and this includes you.
She’ll play the harp for you and ask you how she did
You also get lots of gifts and compliments from the other faeries for being the lover of their queen
She does have preferences though. She likes honesty and expects you to keep promises, she prefers if you do something for her in exchange for her doing something for you, and to not question her motive and means to take down her other half. She will get very defensive with you and shut down the conversation pretty fast
The flora in the silver kingdom bloom to their fullest around you both, but when Lily is upset with you, they curl or bud as you pass by them.
Speaking of chlorokinesis, get used to seeing her show no mercy with her plants. Unlike Dragonberry though, she’ll do her best to help you if the sight of bodies skewered on flower stems is too much. Maybe stick to the heart of the kingdom for your own good, where you’re less likely to see how the rest of Beast Yeast challenge her kingdom.
She has a whole bunch of rules set up when Saint visits. While she’d encourage not being with him at all, if you really want to see him, she made it expressly clear to him that he cannot purify you.
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moonlight-records · 2 months ago
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Fallin' in love | FC43 (SM!AU)
pairing: norris!reader x fc34
summary: a glimpse into the relationship between williams newest rookie and lando's younger sister during the best time of the year
warning: nothing
fc: n/a!
a/n: please take this in honor of spooky season. oh i also made a ko-fi if you want to support me!
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ynorris posted
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liked by francolapinto, landonorris, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 938k others
yourusername 👹🎃👹🎃👹🎃
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user1 CUTE CUTE CUUUUUTE
user2 ugh yes love a good pumpkin patch!!
user3 the lights. the pumpkin. the vibes. 🥺
landonorris bring me back a pumpkin!!
↳ ynorris ugh, fine i guess ↳ landonorris thank you. at least someone loves me ↳ carlossainz55 we are right here ↳ oscarpiastri yeah, babe wtf.
user4 i just know this photo dump bout to go HARD
user5 WHAT ARE THE HALLOWEEN COSTUMES??? 🗣️🗣️🗣️
francolapinto ah yes, right before disaster strikes
↳ landonorris yeah like how she should've left your ass ❤️ ↳ ynorris LANDO ↳ francolapinto no no i agree. ↳ ynorris babe ↳ landonorris see! for once we agree! ↳ francolapinto but amor, if you had left me it would've meant that your dear brother and i would have more time to bond ↳ ynorris omg you're so right babe ↳ landonorris I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS??
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francolapinto posted
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liked by ynorris, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1.2m others
francolapinto 0/10. would not recommend. horrible experience.
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user6 ZOMBIE FARMS??? nah im good
user7 wtf that looks like sm fun??
landonorris oh you made it out...
francolapinto barely, but i did it! 😌 landonorris gross. ynorris LANDO. landonorris i mean, yay... ynorris even took a jump scare for me, my hero 🥰
user8 the way i would've cried
user9 please tell me theres a video somewhere of this--PLEASE
carlossainz55 where was this so i know where NOT to go
↳ landonorris BABE PLS PLS PLS PLS ↳ oscarpiastri it looks kind of fun ↳ carlossaainz55 absolutely NOT ↳ ynorris pfttt i'll text you the address to avoid it ↳ carlossainz55 thank you.
ynorris franco had a great time, everyone he's lying
↳ francolapinto i did not have a great time
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francolapinto tagged ynorris in a post
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liked by ynorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, logansargeant, alex_albon, and 1.3m others
francolapinto we always have a hauntingly good time together
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user10 god bless his looks because that was lando level horrible puns smhhhh
user11 boy PLEASE 😭😭😭
user12 someone get y/n to start proofreading all his captions im bEGGING
oscarpiastri boooooo
↳ francolapinto i made this while drunk please forgive me ↳ carlossainz55 that somehow makes it worse ↳ landonorris...it wasn't that bad ↳ ynorris 👀👀👀
user13 ooooh spooky 👻👻👻
user14 how lando wishes franco was ever since he started dating y/n 😭😭
landonorris where are your sunglasses?
↳ francolapinto lost them ↳ landonorris ...I guess i can lend you a pair. BUT I need them back ↳ francolapinto really?! ↳ landonorris don't let it get to your head ↳ ynorris thank you big bro ☺️ ↳ landonorris you're welcome
user15 LFGGGGGGG
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ynorris tagged yourbestfriend & francolapinto in a post
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ynorris bar at 9 and club at 10
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user16 god to be going out tonight 😩
user17 I KNOW THAT GHOST GOT MOOOVES!!! 👻🪩
yourbestfriend SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS
↳ ynorris EVERYBODY!!! ↳ yourbestfriend LFG!!!!
user18 Y/N and all her twins fr fr
user19 i just know they're playing bangers rn
carlossainz55 you didn't say you were going to a club!
↳ ynorris oh, i didn't?? ↳ carlossains55 NO ↳ ynorris oh...whoops? 😬 ↳ carlossainz55 YN!! ↳ ynorris gotta go!
landonorris ANSWER MY DAMN MESSAGES
↳ ynorris WHAAAAT ↳ landonorris DO YOU NEED A RIDE HOME?? ↳ ynorris NO. WE HAVE A RIDE ↳ landonorris YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL BOUT UBER ↳ francolapinto i'm giving her and the girls a ride home! i've been the guard dog all night!! ↳ landonorris ..thank you Franco. ↳ francolapinto you're welcome! ☺️
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francolapinto tagged ynorris in a post
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francolapinto the spookiest day deserves an even spookier night with a double date
comments on this post have been limited
charles_leclerc where was my invite?
↳ ynorris next time?? ↳ charles_leclerc RUDE!!!
oscarpiastri who took the ghost arm before me??
↳ ynorris not me ↳francolapinto i was fighting carlos for a blood bag ↳landonorris BABE IM SORRY THERE'S A SECOND ARM ↳ oscarpiastri the BETRAYAL!
carlossainz55 do we really have to watch this movie? can we not watch something else?
↳ ynorris stfu you scaredy cat ↳ carlossainz55 I AM NOT--
landonorris okay, i cave. y/n you did a great job at planning
↳ ynorris aw thanks!! 🥰 but this wasn't me ↳ landonorris what?? ↳ ynorris it was all franco. my wonderfully goofy boyfriend ↳ landonorris well--credit is due where credit is done ↳ ynorris and??? ↳ landonorris and...i guess he can stick around ↳ ynorris YES!!! ↳ oscarpiastri war is over ↳ carlossainz55 finally ↳ francolapinto WOOO!!!
francolapinto love you mi amor ❤️
↳ ynorris love you too ❤️
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turquoizxe · 1 month ago
Text
𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬
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Sevika x Piltover!Fem!Reader
content ― one-shot; hatefucking, "til' the room stank", light pain kink, degradation, some biting, the reader is also bratty highkey, smut, overstim, fingering, strap, pillow talk, mentions of possible feelings, Sevika is down bad for you, #needdat #realbad
author's note ― this was supposed to be a small < 500 word drabble, but ovulation had other plans. enjoy!
wc ― 2.445k
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You didn't have it in you to give up whatever this was. It felt too good. She wanted to hate your guts, ruin you, and deprive you of any happiness that she thought you didn't deserve. But I guess other plans were written on the cards.
Thoughts about how you were, how you felt ― it plagued every corner of her brain. And even you didn't understand how much she needed you.
Despite you being from Piltover, your parents were from Zaun. And due to your luck, your family had somehow found themselves outside of poverty. The unfortunate thing is that their corrupt principles still remained despite being surrounded by riches; It in fact made it worse.
Politics was always a rough issue at the dinner table, and you had your opinions about the council. You'd be lying if their narcissism didn't rub off on you quite a bit, and Sevika could tell from miles away that you'd be a problem.
Despite your background and upbringing in Piltover, you and your friends would sneak out to Zaun on more than one occasion. Your parents were unaware that you had as many connections to Zaun as they did, and possibly even more. You'd often run into Sevika more often than she'd like to. Your favorite interaction being within the brothel.
Silco had recently hired you and asked you to find Sevika, who hadn't known that you had become a partner in their line of work. She was often seen at The Last Drop when she was on downtime. You knew her features all too well, and it'd be nice to greet her with your lovely face.
You didn't think she would be able to fuck as good as she looked. While it had been made to your knowledge that she was also a regular at the Brothel, you had been browsing, the familiar voice had echoed. And you hated admitting to yourself how her baritone and shaken up the core inside you. You were gone before you could even make an attempt to find a partner that night. And you couldn't help but hear the filthy words that left her lips every time you had to interact with her.
"That pretty little cunt is mine, isn't it?"
God, you hoped those thoughts didn't chase through you with every moment she spoke with you. Once you started working together more, the tension got stronger, and neither of you could pinpoint when and where it started. But you knew what strengthened it. Your quick wit and smart mouth kept her entertained, and some days she wondered how the hell you didn't end up in this line of work sooner.
Your involvement with Zaun made her feel like the mission was being prolonged with your presence, and she made it known with every passing moment the aversion she had reserved for you. You'd believe it if she spent less time staring at your ass when you were tweaking with her mechanical arm.
The small audience that knew of your partnership was often left in question, as they couldn't describe the relationship you had with one another. And fondness wasn't a word they would state it as.
The seamless flirting felt so harmless at first, the prolonged stares. She could tell how she made you feel, and she always refrained from acknowledging it because she wants to fuck you more than she hates you.
And she couldn't tell if that hate was mutual when all you did was toy with her when under pressure. And finally, she gave in to what she knew you both wanted.
You two got caught up when you started bringing up your parents and your involvement with Zaun. You had spent so much time trying to convince her that this wasn't some sort of savior complex moment for you. You had known better than to engage with someone of her stature. You'd be as good as dead. Sevika was impressed with your combat skills, but that fell short once your teeth sunk into her skin. The lust that clouded her eyes was clear as day in yours.
You knew better than to use Silco's desk for anything other than work, but neither cared enough about him to consider that.
You had Sevika right where you wanted her.
Her mechanical arm had you pinned upon Silco's desk. Your breasts were on display, riddled with bites and hickeys; Your bottoms dangled over your ankles, and your undergarments were barely recognizable after Sevika tore them. And you whined under her so desperately.
"What happened to that shit you were talkin' earlier, huh?" She scoffed, her fingers working inside your walls, eager to pull more cries from you. It was embarrassing for her to admit how much pleasure she derived from you crying like a bitch in heat.
You had stopped counting how many times she had made you come at this point. It was constant teasing and banter until you took it upon yourself to rile her up.
"Fuckin' brat, I just knew you'd break.." Her wrist flicked up, her strong arm adjusting your bottom half. The pressure on your clit only intensified once she realized the change in her angle led to finding your spot.
She had slowed down her movements to get a better look at you, and going only slower every time you averted your gaze. She looked down, your fluids soaking her palm. She let out an audible moan when she slowed down to take a better look at the white ring that was forming around her fingers that prodded you. If Sevika knew anything, you hated when she got under your skin, but how much does that matter when she's already gotten in your pants?
Sevika leans forward, peppering kisses across your chest, soothing the love bites she left behind on your neck, leading up to your ear as your body arches to feel her, yearning to be closer. Her breath ghosted over your ear, softly biting the skin. She slowly lifts her body so she can see the torment in your eyes.
"Look at me when you come, doll."
You cried out, tears welling up in your eyes. It was hard for you to form words, incoherent mumbles, and uneven breaths. You were only able to form a string of "fuck" as she abused your puffy clit. Your mind was clouded by lust and yet despite the knot in your stomach once again creating and becoming painful; You took it upon yourself to move your hips to meet the thrusts of her digits.
Sevika clicked her tongue before removing her fingers from your cunt, your remnants coating her fingers and desk. She backs away and turns away from you, wandering off to a dark corner of the office. A loud groan of frustration falls from your lips. Despite your body being pushed to its limits, you felt you could come for her once more than the last. You couldn't remember the last time anyone has fucked you that good, or if anyone even has until she strolled along.
"Following the rules seems to be a tough concept for you."
"You're such an ass" you sneer, sitting up. Your partner seemed to have stopped entertaining you, your hands finding their way to your pussy, frantically searching for its release. Much to your dismay, Sevika was not far away enough to not hear the cries of your pussy.
"I didn't say you could touch yourself."
"Not like you're doing it", you heave. A strong hand had taken hold of yours, halting your movements. You had been too busy trying to chase another orgasm, you hadn't realized Sevika's strap-on was excited to greet you― a thin layer of lube covering it. As prepped as you were, neither of you doubted you took whatever she gave you.
Sevika's stature was much larger than the average woman's, and she could tell how much you enjoyed feeling small under her with every moment she took to hover over you. While her mechanical arm held you up, firmly grasping your ass, the sharp metal, left small scratches on your backside, while her other hand ghosted over your thigh, her orbs remaining on yours. Your bottom lip stuck between your teeth to stifle a moan. You didn't think you'd become much weaker under her than you did at that moment.
Sevika had you right where she wanted you.
You both leaned forward, your chests heaving against each other, and were enveloped in what would be your first kiss. You were messy, and she adored you. Her tongue quickly found its way into your mouth, your lips softly suckling on the flesh as your hips started to grind against her, craving for Sevika to use her toy. She quickly took that into account, but she still had a sliver of pettiness within her.
"Sev..." drawls from your lips. Your only support is your arms upon Silco's desk as Sevika has her bionic arm grasping under you, her other hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look at her as she slowly inserts herself inside. Despite your slick being noticeably scattered across Sevika's hands and Silco's desk, you couldn't remember the last time you had something so big inside you. She pushed further, her thumb caressing your cheek, still holding your neck to see you lose any form of restraint you have left.
Sevika had finally removed her hand from your neck, retreating back to your breasts, pinching your nipples between her fingers. Once her length bottomed out, a gasp forced out of you from the sudden probe. Sevika grunts, your weight causing the friction against her clit. Your head flung back, white was the only thing you could see. You could feel the head of her strap probe at your spot once again.
"So fucking sexy...you're mine aren't you?"
You weakly moaned out a yes, too fucked out to even think of a witty comeback. Seeing you this fucked out was a dream before her eyes. Ever since she saw you catch a glimpse of her animosity at the brothel, she had only wondered how much of a beating you could take when she took you to pound town. She placed both of her hands on your hips, a grasp so powerful, that you were more than sure they would leave marks more than she already has.
You felt her hips rut against you, the guttural moan that erupted from your throat felt almost embarrassing. It was unfortunate for you that this was the calm before the storm. Still, Sevika searched your eyes before escalating.
She placed her hand on your stomach, where you could feel her with every thrust, you felt the knot forming faster than you'd had hoped. Your legs had begun to shake, tears prickling at your cheeks once again after Sevika's thumb applies pressure to your clit for the umpteenth time. You felt her bionic arm exert a warm sensation beneath you, only heightening your sensitivity.
"I thought you said you could take it? Be a good little bitch like I told you to."
The grip she had on your hips only tightened, the fervor in her ruts only reaching desperate heights, chasing her own orgasm. Seeing you coming undone like this was heavenly, and she'll never let you live this down.
The sweat beads formed on your forehead, and your body felt like it was on fire. You were reaching the edge, your hips quickly finding Sevika's rhythm, eager to reach ecstasy with her. Your hand intertwined with hers, your gaze never leaving her orbs as you witnessed her coming undone.
She didn't need to be told much else, as you hadn't been able to form coherent sentences after your first nut.
"ah..Sev― I'm gonna"
"Fucking do it", she commands, landing another bite on your neck as you both reached your climax. Her hips hadn't shown any signs of stopping, but her intensity decreased as she guided you through your orgasm.
You were already thinking about the next time she would tear your shit up like this. I think the passions you shared would only be the beginning of a unique relationship.
"Thaaaat's it baby..", she coos, landing kisses on your temple before placing a final one on your lips again. You both moaned at the sight of the aftermath, slowly pulling herself out of you. Her strap coated in your juices, your chest rising, a small chuckle leaving your lips admiring the mess you made. Sevika cackles weakly. She was still working on catching her breath from your physical activity.
Sevika's bionic arm squeaks, some steam erupting from the device. It seems like her new adjustments cause some overheating when exerted too much.
"I can take care of that", you motion toward her arm, slowly walking over to your toolbox, careful not to embarrass yourself from the short distance to acquire your items. From your peripheral, you could see Sevika's smirk, taking amusement from watching you struggle to make it. You finally make it, picking up the heavy box. Sevika took it upon herself to carry you back over to the chair across from the desk.
You took some time to gather yourself while Sevika cleaned up the desk, cautious to make it look as if nothing had taken place moments prior.
Afterward, she plopped next to you, putting her arm on display as you removed her vials.
Despite her ruining you just minutes prior, an awkward silence fell between the two of you. While it started rough, the displays of affection made it feel as if there was something else to explore further.
"Soo..." you start. You could feel her gaze upon you, likely wondering the same thing.
"I'd like to think whatever this is may be worth exploring."
Even if it remained this way, you wouldn't mind, but the moments when you both could hold a conversation, there was something else lingering in the air.
Sevika didn't know how to feel― this was beyond lust, but she didn't want to put other labels on it unless she knew for sure.
"I wouldn't mind exploring this with you", she admits, her hand caressing your thigh, your muscles loosen after the assurance from her, continuing to fix her arm. A small smile forms on your lips, and Sevika follows, averting your gaze. You were eager to tease her again, but that wasn't until Silco walked through the door.
The both of you looked in his direction. While his room looked the same as he left it, he couldn't ignore the stench that invaded his nostrils, including the state of your clothing, the only thing covering you being her cloak. You both felt the glares on you, his teeth gritting through his words of frustration.
"Fucking degenerates.."
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― turquoizxe
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