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sakkiichi · 1 year ago

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COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

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builtlikeastickofcelery · 2 years ago

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kind of a blegh Casey sketch I like her expression but her pose is all weird anyways I still need to do the comics!! Agh but im constantly plagued with oc thoughts however I haven’t even named him lol I’ll show him off later

#rottmnt #duskys evening post #rottmnt art #live laugh love Casey jones #save rise #save rottmnt #Casey jones #I have so many wips:(#also having Ebola Holmes thoughts #and bitty check please thoughts #and the frogs thoughts #agh #and ransom+holster and Ollie+wicks thoughts as WELL #AND LARDO #AND SHITTY #AND ALL THE NNJA TURTLES #ALL AR ONCE #AUDHCUNSUNUSDNCUCSDNDCUN

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metamorphesque · 7 months ago

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my translations of Armenian Poetry 🌻

Vahan Teryan

"I love your guilty dusky eyes...", Vahan Teryan

"Two Phantoms", Vahan Teryan

"I shall come to you ...", Vahan Teryan

"To forget, to forget ...", Vahan Teryan

"Sweeter Than Living", Vahan Teryan

"In the empty words", Vahan Teryan

"From the fields of Shirak", Vahan Teryan

"My greetings, torment ...", Vahan Teryan

"My Peaceful Evening", Vahan Teryan

"Place Your Stamp ...", Vahan Teryan

"To forget, to forget ...", Vahan Teryan

Paruyr Sevak

"Unexpected Storm", Paruyr Sevak

"One of Us", Paruyr Sevak

"Close your eyes", Paruyr Sevak

"I love to love...", Paruyr Sevak

"To Go Mad", Paruyr Sevak

"Your Name", Paruyr Sevak

"You don't love anew ...", Paruyr Sevak

"People are not alike...", Paruyr Sevak

"To Live...", Paruyr Sevak

"Love", Paruyr Sevak

Hovhannes Tumanyan

"In slumber's grasp...", Hovhannes Tumanyan

Eghishe Charenc

"Sister, it might be ...", Eghishe Charenc

"All of these flames ...", Eghishe Charenc

Hovhannes Grigoryan

"Songs of Farewell", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"Armenia", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"I'm no longer looking for you", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"An evening with aged maidens", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"Perhaps, it's spring ...", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"Don't you ever die", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"A letter that will never reach you", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"To sit like this...", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"On a New Line", Hovhannes Grigoryan

"Last Word", Hovhannes Grigoryan

Henrik Edoyan

"I did not do what was written ...", Henrik Edoyan

"I remember many of them...", Henrik Edoyan

"A biography that might as well have been mine", Henrik Edoyan

Slavik Chiloyan

"IT'S A MOVIE, IT'LL PASS", Slavik Chiloyan

"RONDO", Slavik Chiloyan

"There is one creator and one creation. Everything else is a testament to that", Slavik Chiloyan

Husik Ara

"Love", Husik Ara

"You are not here", Husik Ara

"You are the light of the world", Husik Ara

"I love you", Husik Ara

"and Love said...", Husik Ara

Razmik Davoyan

"I shut my eyes ...", Razmik Davoyan

"My Eyes", Razmik Davoyan

Vardan Hakobyan

"Love One Another", Vardan Hakobyan

Mher Arshakyan

"Impossible", Mher Arshakyan

(updated on 22/7/2024)

#literature #poetry #classic literature #translated literature #armenian poetry #armenian literature #quotes #poems #my translations #vahan teryan #paruyr sevak #eghishe charenc #hovhannes tumanyan #hovhannes grigoryan #henrik edoyan #husik ara #love poems

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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

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pls hear me out 🙏🙏 vampire!james is recently turned and doesn’t feed cause he’s such a sweetheart he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

reader notices how weak he is and finds out he hasn’t been feeding and basically offers herself to him and it’s just really comforting and cute

Babe I hear you !!! I hear you soooooo clear (the voices omg, I was so excited to write this). Thank you for requesting!

cw: blood mention

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

James never had a problem with eating animals before he became a vampire. You pointed this out to him, once, but he only said it’s different. You suppose it is. The chicken nuggets he used to devour came to him cooked, fried, and with sauces, utterly unrecognizable from what they’d once been. There’s no separating the live-ness from what James has to eat now.

You spy on him over the top of your book. He’s sitting on the other end of the loveseat with your feet in his lap, massaging your arches through your thick socks while he watches a football match on the telly. His dusky skin had paled after he was turned a few weeks back, but he looks even paler than that now. If he were still human you’d think he was anemic. It’s four in the afternoon, and your ball-of-energy boyfriend looks as tired as if he’s ready for bed.

“Jamie,” you say, and he squeezes your heel to indicate he’s listening, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can, lovely, yeah.”

“Have you been feeding?”

James stiffens at the term. “Mm, why do you ask?”

It’s as close as he thinks he can get to a non-answer, and it’s an answer for you anyways. James can never stand to lie to you. It’s terribly endearing.

You turn your foot to poke his abdomen. “I can hear your stomach growling.”

His lips curve. He glances at you. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“Really? How does it work?”

“I don’t actually have a clue.” James smiles, which was your aim. He’s been far too downcast for your liking, his new condition entirely to blame.

“Well, you’re looking pale.”

“I’ve been pale.”

“Paler than pale.” You set your book on the side table, moving closer to him. You sit with your feet folded under you. “Also, you haven’t been going out to feed like you used to.”

James finally looks a bit sheepish. You smile and cup his face in your hand. Though he knows you know, James has still been a tad secretive about the vampire business around you. He sneaks out after he thinks you’re asleep. You’ll hear the front door open and shut when he leaves and then again when he comes back, the kitchen tap running as he cleans himself up. You wish he’d just use the shower. You don’t mind him walking through your bedroom with blood and dirt on him if it means he gets to feel clean when he slips back into bed with you.

You rub your thumb over his cheek. “What’s keeping you?”

He sighs. His face weighs a bit heavier in your palm. You think this must be progress, and you repeat your ministrations to his cheek to encourage it.

“Everything’s hibernating,” says James, a quiet shame underlying his tone. “The…things I used to feed from are gone, and I’m not left with a lot of choices.”

You hum. “Well, you’ve gotta eat, Jamie.”

He hesitates, and you give him your sternest look.

“You do. What about the deer?”

“They’re harder to catch. And…I…I just feel bad, you know?”

You nod. Take his hand and press a kiss to his palm. Your poor sweetheart. You know James hasn’t killed anything he’s fed from, but even scaring them and potentially hurting them for the time it takes him to feed rattles him terribly. He’s too good, good and kind down to his core, but you know he’s going to have to find some way to cope other than starving himself.

“What about people?”

James’ eyes round behind his glasses. “Wha—no, I—”

“I wouldn’t mind you using me.”

He seems to falter for a moment. His thick brows draw together in stages, from disbelief to confusion and back again. “Angel,” he says, “I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s—it would be—”

“Or maybe we could try someone else. Someone bad, like a corrupt politician or one of those people who siphons money away from charities.”

“No.”

“Then we’re back to me.” You smile at him, one part teasing and two parts genuine. “James, I want to. I don’t like seeing you like this, and I really don’t think I’d mind it.”

James looks like he’s still having trouble processing. “You don’t think you’d mind?”

“I don’t,” you repeat patiently. “I’m sort of curious, actually. It could be fun.”

He looks, to your surprise, like he might actually be considering it. He’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know if it’d be fun, angel.”

“That’s okay,” you promise him. “I want to do it for you. You’re hungry, yeah?” You try to make your voice serene and persuasive, your hand coasting up and down his arm. “Let me help.”

James looks you in your eyes. You hold his gaze. After a while, the fight seems to go out of him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

“Oh, baby.” You kiss him on his cheek, your heart bulging. “You won’t. It’ll be fine. How do you want me? Hair up?”

He shakes his head. “It’s good the way it is. I think, um, it might be easier if you were in my lap.”

“Okay.” You grin, lifting your thigh over his so you’re straddling him. His hands settle on your hips. “Are you romancing me? Is this part of it?”

James lifts the corners of his mouth, but you can see the trepidation lingering beneath his smile. You do your best to soothe it away with your hands on his shoulders.

“I want to be gentle with you,” he says.

“I bet you say that to all your victims.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You’re nervous. You kiss his nose in apology.

“If I hurt you—if you don’t like it for any reason, I want you to squeeze my shoulder. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, trying to look certain. “Does it usually hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” James admits. “With animals, they don’t usually…move much after I’ve bitten them. I’m not sure if it stuns them or what.”

“I’ll report back,” you say seriously. You glance down at the couch cushions. “Will it be messy? Should we go to the bathroom or something?”

“No, I’m—I’ve gotten better at it. We should be fine here.”

You smile at him, your pride genuine. “Sounds good.”

James is starting to look worried again, so you kiss him. On the lips, as sweet as you can muster, and imagine all your love pouring through it. Then, you pull your hair to one side and bear your neck.

His pupils splay out.

“Remember to squeeze my shoulder.” He sounds hoarse. One of his hands slips up your back to steady you beneath your shoulder blades.

“I will,” you vow.

James looks dazed, almost reverent. He wets his lips, and when he opens his mouth you see his tongue skim over pointed teeth. Some prey animal’s instinct sends a shiver of fear through you. Your blood hums with anticipation. But just before James’ teeth skim your neck, he pauses.

“Jamie.” It’s soft, a murmur, a plea. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want with me.”

He makes a quiet sound, like a sigh or a whine, and closes the gap.

At first, it’s only like he’s kissing you. He’s exceedingly sweet about it, lips opening warmly over your skin, his tongue pressing over your artery as though testing the waters. He splays his palm wide over your back in silent warning before his teeth sink into you.

There’s a sting, but you were ready for it. You keep yourself from wincing, from doing anything that would make James move away, and after a second the pain dulls. Everything does, except for the extraordinary feel of James’ mouth on you.

“Oh.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, head lolling further to the side to give him better access. You want more, more of this, more of him. Your brain fuzzes and your heart pounds, every nerve in your body narrowing its focus to where James is sucking at your neck, lapping you up.

You wind your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, and his palm coasts up your back comfortingly. You feel molten, spectacularly, transcendently languid, like you could press your fingertips to his shoulders and they’d melt right in. You don’t, not wanting him to misinterpret it as your signal and stop, but after a while James’ arms are the only thing keeping you from tipping sideways onto the couch, and he stops anyway.

He finishes with a few chaste kisses, and you think giddily that you weren’t too far off about the romancing.

“Y’okay, lovie?” he mumbles into your skin.

You hum in reply.

James presses one more sweet kiss to your neck, almost a thank-you. He seals the wound with his tongue. A giggle bubbles out of you, one shoulder coming up to ward him off.

“Sorry,” you say to James’ surprised look. Your head is starting to clear. “That part tickled.”

His grin splits his face, one part tentative and two parts relieved. “Yeah? Are you really okay?”

“Super okay,” you promise him. You can’t help grinning. “You were right, it didn’t hurt. That was nice.”

James’ expression eases, some mix of relief and interest in his gaze. “Was it actually?”

“Mhm. I would be your blood donor any time, really.”

James scoffs, but he’s clearly elated. He strokes from your hip to your ribs with a big hand, trailing tender kisses up to your cheek. You’re thrilled to see how much more energy he already has.

“I don’t know about that,” he says in between kisses. “I’d still rather not make you my victim if I can help it.”

“I didn’t feel like a victim, if that helps.” Your words go mushy as he reaches your lips, but you keep talking, wanting to make your point. “I just mean, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe when you’re lacking in other options.”

“Mm, maybe. What was it like?”

“Like a really good kiss.”

James backs up from you to give you a dubious look. “Better than the ones I give you normally?”

You grin. “Maybe a little.”

His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth drops open, curving on one side. “Oh, yeah? Bold claims.”

“I don’t know if you can compete with whatever vampire magic that was, Jamie.”

“My kisses are very magical. It seems like I may have to remind you how good they really are, though.”

You shrug coyly. “If you think you can top that, you’re welcome to try. I mean, you’re really only competing with your—”

James is on you before you can finish.

872 notes · View notes

thesecondhandwoman · 18 days ago

Note

Omg I love the domestic caitvi and their kid😭

How about one where cait or vi was so stressed and tired from work or something and reader just wanted to play but instead cait or vi accidentally lashed out on her and she ran out of the room to her bedroom and started crying and started to think that maybe her mom doesn’t love her anymore or something, in the end cait or vi apologize to reader, they made up and cuddle or play together

SOFT APOLOGIES

Caitlyn x Vi x kid f!reader

Synopsis: Being Vi and Caitlyn’s little kid had some difficulties, especially when Caitlyn was already tired with work, while you were a little bundle of energy wanting attention. Sometimes leading to some needed apologies.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Part two of Motherly Love.

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon, painting the house in soft, dusky light. Dinner had been eaten, dishes half-done, and the usual hum of warmth filled the home. But something was different tonight. The weight of the day had settled heavily on Caitlyn’s shoulders, her normally pristine posture sagging ever so slightly as she worked through a pile of paperwork at the kitchen table. Her brow was furrowed, her movements sharp, a quiet tension radiating from her.

Vi wasn’t home yet, stuck with her own share of responsibilities. That left you, five years old and bursting with energy, darting around the living room with Bunny in one hand and a superhero cape tied around your neck.

You didn’t notice Caitlyn’s tight jaw or the way her sighs grew heavier each time her pen scratched across the paper. You only saw your mommy—your kind, brilliant mommy who could do anything—and you wanted her attention.

“Mommy!” you called, skipping into the kitchen. Bunny bounced against your side, his floppy ears trailing behind you. “Mommy, look! I’m a superhero!”

Caitlyn didn’t look up. “That’s wonderful, darling,” she said absently, her tone clipped.

Undeterred, you twirled in place, your cape fluttering behind you. “Mommy, did you see? Did you see how fast I can go?”

Another sharp sigh escaped her lips. She set her pen down, finally glancing at you. Her smile was thin and tired. “I see, sweetheart. But I’m very busy right now. Why don’t you play in the living room for a while?”

“But I want to play with you,” you insisted, bouncing on your toes. Bunny jostled in your hand as you held him up toward her. “Bunny wants to play too! Please, Mommy?”

Caitlyn’s patience, already stretched thin, snapped.

“For the love of—darling, not now!” she said sharply, her voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “I have so much to do, and I can’t focus with you underfoot! Just go to your room for a little while!”

Her words hit you like a gust of cold wind. Your small frame stilled, your wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Bunny dangled limply in your grip.

“Go on,” Caitlyn said, her tone softer but still firm. “Please, darling. I just need some quiet.”

Without another word, you turned and ran. Bunny’s ears trailed behind you as you bolted down the hallway, your small feet thumping against the floor. Caitlyn called your name only a minute after you ran, but you didn’t stop.

In your room, you curled up on your bed, Bunny clutched tightly to your chest. The superhero cape now felt silly, like it didn’t belong to you anymore. You buried your face against Bunny’s soft fur, the first sob breaking free as your mind spun with unfamiliar and frightening thoughts.

Mommy’s mad at me.

She doesn’t love me anymore.

Maybe I’m too annoying, maybe she wishes I wasn’t here.

The tears came faster, soaking Bunny’s fur as you squeezed him tighter, your chest heaving with hiccupping breaths.

Back in the kitchen, Caitlyn sat frozen, her head in her hands. The echo of her raised voice played on a loop in her mind, each repetition sharper than the last.

She sighed deeply, rubbing her temples as guilt clawed at her chest. What was I thinking, snapping at her like that?

Vi walked through the door moments later, her boots clunking softly against the floor. She took one look at Caitlyn’s face and frowned. “Hey, cupcake. You alright?”

Caitlyn shook her head, her eyes tired and full of regret. “I-I snapped at her, Vi. She wanted to play, and I just, I yelled. She ran off crying, and now—” Her voice wavered.

Vi’s face softened. “Hey, hey. We all have rough days. But you know what you gotta do, right?”

Caitlyn nodded, already standing. “I need to fix this.”

Your sniffles had quieted, though tears still clung to your lashes when Caitlyn pushed open your bedroom door. She found you curled up on the bed, your little body trembling slightly as you hugged Bunny close. The sight made her heart ache.

“Darling?” she said softly, kneeling beside your bed.

You peeked at her through red-rimmed eyes, your lip trembling.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Caitlyn whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I had a hard day, but that’s no excuse for being unkind to you.”

You sniffled, your voice small. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Caitlyn’s heart shattered. She scooped you into her arms, holding you close as tears filled her own eyes. “Oh, no, my darling. Never. I love you more than anything in the world. You are my sunshine, my heart, my everything.”

Your tiny hands clung to her shirt as you buried your face in her neck. “Really?”

“Really,” she promised, her voice firm and full of love. “I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

Vi appeared in the doorway, her usual grin softened into something warm and comforting. “Hey, squirt,” she said, stepping inside. “You okay?”

You nodded slowly, still snuggled against Caitlyn.

“Good,” Vi said, ruffling your hair gently. “Wanna know a secret? Your mommy’s a superhero too. She just had a tough mission today.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Caitlyn with wide eyes. “Really?”

Caitlyn smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Really. But the only thing I want to do now is spend time with my favorite hero. What do you say? Forgive me?”

Your bottom lip wobbled again, but this time it was followed by a small, teary smile. “Okay, Mommy. I forgive you.”

The three of you ended up back in the living room, the paperwork forgotten. Caitlyn and Vi worked together to build you a brand-new superhero cape out of an old scarf, complete with Bunny-sized accessories so he could join in your adventures.

When bedtime finally rolled around, you were nestled between them on the couch, Bunny tucked safely under your arm. Caitlyn smoothed down your hair while Vi traced gentle circles on your back.

“Love you, Mommy,” you murmured sleepily.

“Love you, too, darling,” Caitlyn whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love you, squirt,” Vi added, her voice soft and warm.

And in the safety of their arms, you drifted off to sleep, knowing without a doubt that their love was as strong as ever.

A love that stayed, no matter what.

A/N: yes, this part also had another falling asleep ending, but only because I wanted to tie the last line with the title.