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phannetasm · 1 month ago

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The rarest of flowers // Alucard x fem!reader

𓆩𓁺𓆪𝒄𝒘: fluff, reader works in a brothel, mirror on the ceiling, mild male yearning. this is very self indulgent and it's been a while since i last wrote something but i needed to write a lil something for my wife (Alucard). wc: 1.9k, part 2

Unlike other men he met during his life, Alucard didn't frequent brothels. He’d never understood how people could partake in such sinful activities and thought such practices deplorable and beneath him. The mere idea of buying someone like a commodity, of using them for one's own pleasure was sickening, scandalous.

But when fate placed you, a woman of the night in his path he couldn't help but indulge in your pleasures. Perhaps it was the loneliness, a moment of weakness that led him to your bed that fateful night, but he never anticipated you would captivate him so thoroughly. Leaving your tender embrace the next morning felt almost sacrilegious, but the promised whispered against your lips soothed his aching heart. He'd come back, he swore, once his journey came to an end and he could safely return to Paris. Little did he know your paths would cross much sooner than expected, the pursuit for Sekhmet's mummy leading him back to the city only a few weeks later.

It was close to midnight when he reached Paris with his companions. The journey was tiresome and they needed to lay low, to hide from Erzebet's spies. Much to his surprise, Richter and Annette didn't question him when he pushed open the door of the brothel, motioning them to walk inside. The two descended the narrow steps of the establishment, looking around curiously.

"This is quite... distasteful." huffed Richter, stepping closer to Annette when a girl attempted to approach him.

"We cannot risk being discovered now and no one will look for us here." spoke Alucard, seeking you from the corner of his eye but couldn't spot you in the parlour. "The matron will offer you a room to rest." he added, pointing at the older woman in French robes hastily making her way over to the them, shoving the girls blocking her way like flies. The rings and bracelets on her arms tinkled when she grasped Alucard's gloved hand, shaking it lightly– a wide, wine stained grin on her face. "So good to see you back, my boy. Tell me, how may I help you?"

"My companions need a room" spoke Alucard, hiding his embarrassment at the woman's familiarity. He slowly slipped his hand from hers, reaching for the pouch of coins looped around his belt. "They should remain undisturbed for the night. We will leave shortly after sunrise."

The woman nodded, her eyes trained on the coins the dhampir dropped into her outstretched palms. After inspecting them thoroughly she hid them in her breast and guided Richter and Annette towards a room. But before the two could turn to ask Alucard where he'd be staying he was gone. He silently slipped through the shadows of the salon, avoiding all patrons on your way to your room. He could already smell your scent from behind the wooden door, his fingers twitching in anticipation as he pushed the door open. And oh how his gaze softened when he laid eyes on you, seated on the cushioned seat in front of your vanity, brushing your hair. You lifted your gaze, meeting his in the mirror, a smile tugging at your lips.

"You're back" you whispered, raising from your seat, your silky dress wrapped around your figure shining like molten pearls in the candlelight. He welcomed your hug, his eyes closing when he dipped his head to the nape of your neck and inhaled your scent– smoke and lilacs, oh so enchanting.

"I had to see you, my lady." he hummed, tracing his fingertips down your spine. With slow steps you slipped away from him and he took off his gloves, letting you hold his hands. "Where have you been?" you asked as you made your way back to the vanity mirror, picking up your comb and threading it through your hair. The dhampir sighed, his golden eyes fixed on your reflection; when you brushed your hair over your shoulder he could see the faint shadow of the healed indents where he had bitten you weeks prior. Leaning behind you he brushed the marks with his thumb, his fingertips cold against your heated skin.

"Machecoul, helping some friends" he answered plainly, his hand slipping down to your shoulder. After so many years of solitude, touching another seemed otherworldly. "Helping some friends" you mused, a flicker of a coy smile on your lips. "Is this about your endeavour? Do tell me about, I'd love to hear."

Alucard hummed, his eyebrows pinching together in disapproval. He didn't wish to burden you with his worries, to mar the sanctity of this moment with tales of gods and the undead. No, that was not what he came here for. Tenderly, he took the comb from your hand and placed it on the little desk, resting his head against your shoulder. "I do not wish to speak of such things, my sweet. It is none of your concern."

You knew better than to press the matter so you nodded, raising from your seat. Alucard's firm tug on your dress was enough for you to know that you should undress so you slowly undid the bow that held together the cloth. Alucard's gaze darkened imperceptibly for a moment, his lips parting for him to take a slow breath in.

"How do you wish to do it tonight?" you asked as per usual, but the dhampir huffed in response, your words bringing him back to his senses.

"Spare me the protocol, my sweet. I only wish to rest." With deft fingers, Alucard peeled off his garments and joined you in bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, the candles dimming as if blown by an unfathomable force while he loomed over you. You didn't waste any moment to slide your arms around his neck, seeking to meet his gaze in the dark. The dhampir's hair brushed against your shoulders, his hands guiding you flush against him as he laid on his side. "How long will you stay?" you asked, slotting yourself against him, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

The dhampir cradled your head and you felt a pair of cold lips press against your forehead. "I shall depart tomorrow morning."

"So soon?" you pouted, craning your neck to meet his gaze again and Alucard's heart panged when he saw the hopeful look in your eyes. "Yes, my sweet. I must go, but I will return soon."

He could tell by the way your shoulders tensed that his answer displeased you and he sighed, bringing your mouth over his. An unspoken promise, a consolation, a plea for forgiveness; his arms tightened around you as you kissed, his fangs grazing your lips when he pulled away.

"The people speak of a revolution" you added, voice hushed as if you were sharing a secret. "They speak of death and devils coming down upon us from Hell. Is it true?"

"Yes, 'tis true" he snarled, turning on his back as he draped a hand over his eyes. "I'm afraid dark times are coming, my lady, but we will break through."

"How can you be so sure?"

He needn't see you to know you had that defiant look in your eyes. Despite his fears and your worry, Alucard couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "I have lived for three hundred years and seen many revolutions. Fear not, my sweet, everything will be alright."

"For you maybe..." you muttered, earning a sigh from Alucard. Returning to his side, the dhampir pulled you into another kiss, pressing you up against him. His hand slip to your bare thigh, nails leaving shallow marks on your skin as he pulled your leg over his hip. "Do you not trust me when I promise you'd be safe?" he hummed against your lips, golden eyes peering into yours and you shook your head.

"I trust you, but I still fear for my life here. They are killing people in the streets, the food is scarce and–"

Alucard's hand on your mouth silenced you but your protests soon melted into soft sighs as your lover trailed kisses down your neck and chest, halting just above your heart. He could hear your heart skip a beat when he placed a kiss on your breast. "You needn't worry about food, shelter or your safety, my dear."

His reassurance calmed your plaguing thoughts and you sighed, nodding softly. Alucard's hand moved to your cheek, cradling you face. The look in his eyes when he leaned back over you was of the most tender. "I have arranged for your stay somewhere safe. An abbey in the mountains. You will be well fed and taken care of. A friend of mine will take you there in two days at dawn."

For a moment you held his gaze, searching for any traces of deceit but his words were honest. Slowly, you nodded gratefully, your arms tightening around his neck.

You could taste the love on his lips when he kissed you again, your heart swelling, feeling as if it would burst our of your chest. Tugging him closer, you managed to force a tired smile when he rested his forehead against yours. And so you laid, suspended in the dark, with Alucard murmuring sweet words in a language unknown to you, but you didn't need to understand to know he spoke from the bottom of his heart. You could feel it in the drawl of his voice, the steadiness of his breath, the touch that conveyed his deep devotion, his soul bared for you to see and treasure. Closing your eyes, you let his words flow through you, like a balm for your aching heart.

"I wonder what the nuns will say when they find out they have to share quarters with a whore." you chuckled eventually, earning a small huff from the dhampir. He laid by your side, drawing you in and closed his eyes. His hand smoothed some stray strands of hair on the crown of your head before slipping through your curls. "Such silly worries you have, my sweet. They needn't know of this."

"Then what should I tell them when they ask about me?"

The corners of Alucard's lips twitched lightly in amusement. What should you tell them indeed? That you were the most pure hearted, precious thing he'd ever had the privilege to call his? That you were his newfound hope in the sea of despair the world was sinking in? That you were the one who touched his heart like no other mortal has in centuries? No, of course not. You couldn't tell them the thing he didn't have the heart to confess to you yet. So with a sigh, he smiled up at the ceiling, his eyes drifting along the reflection of your tangled bodies in the mirror. "Tell them your wildest dreams, sweet lady, and we'll make them true one day."

#alucard #castlevania nocturne #castlevania #alucard x reader #alucard castlevania #alucard fluff #castlevania fluff #castlevania alucard

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chleem · 4 months ago

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Hallow's eve

Oneshot; exes drew x yn

Summary: drew wasn’t the type to get jealous. And tonight, on hallow’s eve, is his first time experiencing this bitter emotion.

Genre: exes to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, (read at own caution

⋆.˚ don't copy or translate my work

♡⸝⸝ happy halloween! | mistletoe | mr & mrs starkey

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“You can’t be fucking serious,”

Drew laughs bitterly, his eyes landing on you.

The light blue corset, leathered mini-skirt, police badge, duty belt, and bunny ears are all too recognizable to him. A seducing touch to the costume of Judy Hopps from Zootopia. It shows off your curves beautifully, everything about it made you look more sensual than usual.

But the main reason for his bitterness isn’t because of your costume, rather…who you’re matching with.

His friend Paul. Whose wearing what was supposed to be Drew’s, the Nick Wilde costume.

Fuck. It’s been a month since the breakup, and you show up with his friend?

“Shit, did you know about this?”

Drew forces his eyes away from you, turning the Keith. His lips are pursed, clenching on his jaw tightly. All the emotions are coming back to him all at once; regret, anger, and confused. “Does it look like I know?” He doesn’t even try to hide the sourness in his voice.

Keith nervously glances to the side; he knows Drew isn’t over you. Hell, Drew didn’t even try to get over you, and everyone knew it. Dated for a year…how is one suppose to forget about that? “Shit man…”

Drew sighs, turning his gaze back to you. He hasn’t seen you for a whole month…and you looked beautiful.

And Drew of course knew how much he missed you, shit, everything he did he thought of you. Waking up? Why weren’t you in his bed. Showering? Why weren’t you helping him wash his hair. Eating? Why weren’t you sitting in the seat beside him.

And seeing you hold Paul’s hand, greeting others with a soft smile; that should be him standing beside you.

“They’re…probably not even together,” Keith tries to make the situation look better than it is.

Then, while you’re talking to someone dressed as a mummy, Paul distracts himself by planting kisses along your jaw. “Not together, huh?” Drew snickers at the audacity of Paul, doing that to you. He should know better than to touch what’s his.

Drew’s whole costume feels annoying now. Obviously, breaking up with you meant having no costume. So, he improvised to dress up as Patrick Bateman, from American Psycho.

He shrugs the clear raincoat off, hanging it on a random coat hanger that happens to be in a kitchen. He loosens his tie, pouring himself another round of drinks.

When Drew glances at Keith, he sees a sly smile on his face. What the fuck-

“You’re jealous, man.”

Jealous? To Drew, it was an ugly and immature emotion. Only insecure people feel that way. Drew wasn’t insecure, god no.

No. That just wasn’t who Drew was, to be jealous.

Besides, what’s there to be jealous of? He knows you too well, you’re definitely just bitter. Because out of all his friends, you hate Paul the most.

His mind was just playing tricks on him.

But fuck- how much he wanted to punch Paul still, and claim the spot next to you.

“No,” Drew laughs it off, sounding as if he’s being held at gunpoint. He downs the drink in his hand in one sip, and says more firmly this time, “no.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at him; obviously not believing his friend. “Nah, you jealous. Jealous that Paul gets all that now.”

Ew. That thought disgusts Drew. “Fuck off-“

Someone yells for a game of truth or dare in the living room. Drew’s eyes immediately find themselves on you, even with the huge amount of costumes in here. Paul ushers you to join; reluctantly, you follow him.

Seems like Drew’s also playing.

——

Amidst the loud Halloween party, a game of truth or dare begins. Refusing to answer or do the dare, results in a penalty drink.

Paul’s hand on your thigh makes you want to throw up. You hated this guy; why, out of anyone, did you ask him to be your date?

Your stupid pride got the worst of you, refusing to show up at the party alone, especially with the chance of seeing Drew. You suspected that he must have moved on, so you decided to show how ‘well’ you were doing.

Wrong. Everyone close to you knew how many sleepless nights you’ve had in the last month, depressed and withered away in your room. Really, getting ready tonight was an impossible task too.

Paul is…disrespectful, awkward, inappropriate, the list goes on. He’s not close with Drew; but still, it bothered you that he was always at hangouts. Once, he made a move on you (a rather rude, pushy one) while you were still with Drew.

Yep. Now thinking back, you would’ve preferred to come alone instead of with this prick.

“You good?”

Yeah, if you take your hand off me. “Lovely,” you manage to breathe out, focusing your gaze at the circle that has now formed in the living room.

Your eyes land on Drew; pulling a random chair and sitting down, manspreading. He never looked finer, in his American Psycho costume. And plus, his hair. The last time you saw him, he had bangs. Not that this new buzzcut looked bad; it gave a whole new demeanor to Drew, one that was more matured.

Wow. Looking at him, you realize how much you miss him. You wanted to go sit next to him, run your hands through his buzzcut, and just talk to him, hear his deep, calming voice.

Shit. He makes eye contact with you, and for the first time, you can’t tell what’s on his mind. Is he mad? Regretful? Or does he…even care? You watch as his eyes scan down your body, lingering longer on your legs. Or rather, Paul’s hand there.

“Alright…who wants to go first?” Some person you don’t know, speaks up, sitting down on the couch.

The eye contact breaks, with Drew turning his face away, drinking the cup in his hand.

Huh.

Someone volunteers for a dare, but you don’t show much interest. This is a stupid game anyways.

During the game, Paul would whisper something dirty in your ear, which honestly, pissed you off more. When he kissed your jaw earlier, that was already crossing the line. But you could feel someone watching you intensively, so you go along with it; smiling, whispering back, responding to his touches. You hoped that someone would call on you, just so you could leave Paul’s side for a while.

And as if some angel heard you, halfway through the game-

“Drew, truth or dare?”

That caught your attention, but you try not to show it. You make subtle glances in his direction, wondering what he was going to chose.

“Dare,” his voice is deep, just like how you last remembered it.

The person asking was his friend, Keith. He hung around so much, that you can easily recognize the mischievous glint in his eyes; he’s gonna say something crazy.

You’re right; because he says, “7 minutes in heaven. With y/n.”

The people in the circle all murmur and woo, in anticipation. Great. Was there anyone here that didn’t know about the breakup?

You can’t help but smile down at your lap, at how ridiculous this dare is. Surely, Drew wouldn’t say yes, right? You couldn’t tell; his face showed no emotion towards that dare.

“Say no, alright?” Paul’s disgusting voice forces you to look over at him.

Did you want to say no?

You take a good look at Paul’s face; maybe saying no isn’t the worst idea. Being locked somewhere awkward with Drew sounded better than…actually, better than anything.

Suddenly, you feel a heavy presence standing close to you. And when you look over, it’s Drew. He stands in front of you, and he holds out a hand for you to take.

You look up at his face, hints of eagerness only you could notice. He nods gently towards his hand, telling you to take it.

“Yo dude, she doesn’t wants to go-“

You take it. Your hand comes in contact with the familiar warmth, the hands that you always found comfort in. You let him pull you out of Paul’s arms, a little too rough, and you stumble a bit.

You smile awkwardly, holding onto his hand hard to regain your balance. “Hey, I’ll be here waiting for you,” Paul continues to say.

“Sure,” you force out, adjusting your skirt. Deep down, you’ve never been more glad to be rescued by Drew.

——

He’s walking at a fast pace, and with his grip on your hand tight, you can tell how urgent he is. His patience slips away with each tug he gives to each door he passes by, occupied by strangers already.

“Maybe we should just give up-“

The last door is budged opened, and when the two of you glance inside, it’s empty.

“Great,” you murmur awkwardly, before forcing your hand out of his. You don’t want to do so; but given the current situation between you two, it’ll feel weird if you continue to hold his hand.

You brush past him into the small bedroom, and sit yourself on the bed. This bunny headband was getting itchy, so you take it off, putting it beside you.

You watch as Drew locks the door behind him, sliding his suit jacket off. Woah, woah, woah, is he stripping? “Um…what are you doing?”

His blue eyes stare blankly into yours; as he lazily rolls his sleeves up. “the walking, it gets hot.”

Oh. He…yeah, it might get too hot from all the fast walking. Why would he strip? Drew wasn’t that kind of person, what were you thinking? You look down at your lap; embarrassed of your own thoughts.

Well…this is awkward. The only sound in here was the faint music from downstairs.

And then Drew sits down on the bed, next to you. The mattress dips under his weight, his scent (he smells real good) hitting you, and just his overall presence.

That damn buzzcut. What even motivated him to get his entire head shaved? You were curious; and you wanted to know what happened to him in the past month. Was he also miserable like you? Or did he forget about everything-

“Paul, huh?”

He’s leaned forward; so you can’t really tell his expressions. But his voice comes out deep and almost hushed, like he needed to force it out.

Your heart was beating fast, why were you nervous? It was just Drew; you’ve dated him for a year, known him for more than that. Yet, every action and word he says can still made you flustered. “Well, he has a thing for me.”

Was that the right response? You weren’t sure; Drew answers a few seconds later, “I know,” you watch his back muscles through his see-through button up tense, “just didn’t know you had a thing for him.”

Almost forgot how well he knew you. “People can change,” you shrug, trying to act cool.

That earns a ‘tsk’ of disapproval from him, and he leans back. He turns towards you; the pretty blue of his eyes staring into yours. “Not you.”

“Could say the same about you,” you bitterly reply, referring to the breakup. It was out of character for him to just dump you, saying he was ‘busy’. A dick move, to be honest.

Drew rolls his eyes upward; as if thinking of a response. His lips are slightly pursed; and you see the amusement in them.

“Am I wrong?” You press, and suddenly, the depression from the past month has surfaced into anger. Anger towards Drew. “You have no right to say that-“

“You’re dating Paul,” he emphasizes on the last part, his eyebrows furrowed at you. “Paul, for god’s sake.”

You shake your head, a sour smile on your lips. The anger inside of you begs to be released, and as a way of spreading it out, you stand up. So mad, you can’t even sit still. “So what? Why do you care, we broke up-“

“A month, only for a month!” He raises his voice slightly louder than yours, and he also stands up now. This escalated fast. “And Paul. Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes I am! More than ever, you got a problem with that?” You provoke, the two of you standing in less than a meter from each other. He stares down at you, and even with your angered mind, his proximity still drives you insane. “Let’s not forget that you dumped me-“

“You’re dating Paul?” He asks once again, realizing that you didn’t correct him from earlier. His face shows it all; betrayal and disgust.

You laugh at him, rather distastefully, “Do you not hear yourself right now? You’re worried about that-“

“You dating him or not?”

He just stays in place, towering over you. That question lingers in the air, his jealousy heavy. He watches you, and you see a mixture of longing and frustration in them. He’s practically begging you with his eyes at this point.

The devil on your shoulder pushes you to lie, “we’ve been seeing each other.”

He immediately steps away from you, pacing around the room with his hands running through his scalp. He turns back around to you, but stands at a distance now, “y/n, what the fuck-“

“Why are you getting mad at me?” You yell back, your voice cracking.

“I don’t believe you,” he harshly denies, shaking his head.

Fights with Drew was never like this; he would apologize quickly and fix the problem. Tonight? You might’ve just pissed him off to the point of no return.

You tuck your hair behind your ears, before placing them on your hips firmly. “Well, that’s the truth, whether you like it or not-“

“I don’t fucking believe you, y/n,” he denies once again.

“You saw him around me, what else do you-“

“I don’t believe you,” he repeats, closing the distance between the two of you again. You gulp at his presence towering over you; this time, there’s an edge to his demeanor. Knowing that you lied, it felt dangerous to be standing this close to him. “You’re bluffing, I know it.”

The sharpness in his eyes glints with challenge, searching for the truth in yours. He won’t be easily swayed; he knew you too well.

You cock your head to the side, the same challenge in your eyes that mirrors back to him. You don’t miss it; the jealously in his. He’s jealous right now!

No wayyy he’s jealous. Years you’ve known him; never once have you seen him jealous. Drew was that kind of person; unbothered and sure about himself. At first it frustrated you, it seemed like he didn’t care. But you soon learned that it just meant he trusted you, never questioning about your friendships or interactions.

But still, he’s jealous right now! For the very first time! And you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t tease him about it. C’mon, this man was jealous of Paul. How cute. “You’re jealous,” you say, failing to hide the amusement in your tone. “You’re fucking jealous right now-“

“No,” he firmly denies it.

“Yes, you are. You, Drew Starkey, is jealous-“

“I’m not fucking-“

“Yes! You’re jealous!” You point out, a bit too cheerful at that. You almost forget that you’re suppose to be angry at him, “You’re bitter that it’s not you-“

“Gosh, you’re driving me insane,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. “I don’t feel that way-“

“Oh, you totally are,” you say, taking a few steps back and snickering. Gosh, this is fun to make fun of. “Drew Starkey’s jealous for the first time-“

Drew’s lips come in contact with yours, his tongue thrusting into yours urgently.

Woah.

You didn’t even realize he had closed the gap again; his hands cupping your face to trap you into him. You hit his chest to push him away; but the longer his lips attach to yours, the softer your hits were.

Alcohol. You taste that on his lips, pretty sure yours too.

Yet, like a second nature, your body and brain reacts to Drew in a submissive way, kissing him back. You can’t help it; the warmth of his hands on either sides of your face, his soft lips…everything about him. Everything about him is endearing to you.

In this moment, you realized you could never truly get over Drew. And quite frankly, you don’t want to.

He pulls away, but his hands still remain on your face. “I’m not jealous,” he murmurs, his lidded-eyes gazing down at your lips then back your eyes. His chest under your touch rises and falls, the beat of his heart fast.

The urge to fight or tease him disappears; you just want to be in his presence, in his touch, feeling the warmth of him. As if it could solve all your problems.

“Shut up,” you breathe out, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him.

Drew immediately kisses you back; never been more glad to be ordered to shut up. His hands move down your body, until they come in contact with the strings at the back of your corset.

You feel him struggling with undoing it; probably distracted by your lips on his.

Gosh, was it so hard to undo a couple of strings?

You force him onto the bed, and he immediately readjusts himself to a nice position. You quickly put your hands behind you and untie the strings, while Drew undos his own tie, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Was that so hard?” You tease him, letting the corset fall off you. Drew’s mouth is slightly opened as his eyes drift lower down to your naked chest; his fixated gaze giving you a confidence boost.

“Mmhm,” he lazily replies; hands pull you into his lap by the waist. His lips attach them to yours again, and your hands work on unbuttoning his shirt. He kisses down your neck, laying love bites on it.

“Shit…” you moan. Drew’s lips were skilled, and they knew where you liked it.

His hands knead your breasts, just as you got his last button undone. Your hands roam around his chest, abs, then coming back up to run through his scalp. Huh. It’s gonna take some time to get used to no hair to tug on.

His lips move down to your chest, and he starts to suck on your nipples. He fully makes out with them; his tongue sloppily tugging and devouring them in. It sends pleasure down to your core; and you start to rub against him, feeling the material of his pants harden.

“Drew…” you voice out, hands feeling his scalp. It feels, weird and comfortable.

He pulls away, his chest heavy as he looks up at you with hungry eyes. “Yeah?”

“Lay back,” you order, wiping the saliva that drips down the side of his lips.

Drew gulps, before nodding. His hands remove themselves from you, hurriedly discards his shirt, and he scoots himself further down the bed. You get the clear look of his boner through his pants; damn.

Your hands go to undo your duty belt; when they come in contact with metal chains.

Huh? You look down and see, that it was the handcuffs you got for Judy Hopps’ character.

The dirtiest idea pops up in your mind, and you look back up at Drew with a smile. His eyes are squinted at you, eyebrows furrowed. The two of you share a look; and then he shakes his head in disapproval. “No. I’m not getting handcuffed.”

This was never tried over the course of your relationship with him, and now that the opportunity presented itself, you had to try. You pout, taking the metal chains in your hands. You dip onto the bed, crawling between his spread legs. “Please, baby. It’ll be fun,” you flirtatiously say, your hand crawling up his thigh. “I’ll make it feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” he murmurs, his arms tucked behind his head.

“Pretty please then?” Your hand comes in contact with his boner, and you grip it through his pants.

He moans under your touch, his mind fighting the battle to not be seduced by you.

You knew how much Drew liked to touch you, always having his arm around you either lovingly and protectively. He took pride in being the person that gets to touch you whenever he wants and wherever. So of course, he wouldn’t be so happy to be handcuffed.

You swing the handcuffs, giving him a soft smile.

After a few seconds, he moans again, this time out of frustration, “fine. Do it.”

You smile ear-to-ear, happy that he agreed. You straddle his waist, as he offers his hands to you. You fasten one around his wrist, the material digging slightly into his skin. “Does it hurt?” You murmur, even though you were already moving onto his other hand.

“I’m good,” he assures you, and when you glance down, you see that your breasts are directly in front of his face, a distraction provided. You shake your head, a soft smile on your lips as you bring both handcuffed wrists and hook it on the headboard.

You ignore the kisses he trails on your chest; and tug on his hands to make sure it stays there. “Hey, stop it,” you warn him, before getting off.

By instinct, he tugs his wrists wanting to keep you atop of him, but the handcuffs stop him. “Ride me, c’mon,” he whines, getting impatient with the restraints of his hands. Look, you haven’t even started and he’s already whining.

Drew looks very hot in this angle; usually in charge, to be in a position where he physically couldn’t do anything.

You giggle, undoing the duty belt and shimmying your skirt off. You lean forward between his legs, looking up at him with intrigued eyes. “Have some patience, baby,” the nickname drives him crazy, throwing his head back in frustration.

His reaction makes you grin. You can see the struggle on his face—wanting to be annoyed but unable to resist the pull of your playful teasing. It’s the kind of tension that makes your heart race, as your hands go and undo his belt.

The belt comes off, next was the zipper, then his pants. You tug it down to his knees, his dick piercing through his boxers. It’s begging to be sucked by you.

You pull it down, his dick practically springing out. “Fuck,” you moan, leaning down close to it.

Drew thrusts his hips, making the tip hit your nose. You look up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. You didn’t like how impatient he is right now, “stay still.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, biting down on his bottom lip. “You look pretty from this angle, though.”

You give him a smug smile, before opening your mouth and taking his tip in. He immediately groans at that, as your mouth moves lower.

The tug of the handcuffs is heard, as well as Drew saying, “wanna touch you.”

You smirk against his dick, one hand gripping on his thigh, another one going up to his balls. You massage one side; while your mouth skillfully takes Drew in.

But Drew decides to take a step further, and thrusts his hip upward. That makes you gag; his tip hitting almost the back of your mouth. You immediately pull your mouth out, “stay still,” you say, more firmly this time. “Or I’ll leave, and you’ll stay here handcuffed.”

Another tug of his handcuffs, “didn’t mean to.”

“Be a good boy and stay still, okay?” The lust, tipsiness, combined with Drew’s vulnerable situation serves as a huge boost to your confidence.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, relaxing his entire body now. You’re in charge now; the handcuffs remind him of that.

You give him a glare as a warning; you don’t miss the small curl at the corner of his lips. You take him in again, your hand squeezing his balls gently. You start to bop your head up and down, tongue wrapping and sucking his dick.

“Shit,” you hear him groan, “just like that, babe.”

His soft moans ensure you that you’re doing a great job, as well as the occasional tugs of the handcuffs, his hands dying to touch you. Your head bops faster with each passing second, the pleasure of sucking his cock pooling in your undies too.

It’s when you feel his cock twitch inside your mouth, you pull away.

“Babe, what?” He manages to breathe out, he couldn’t believe that you just denied him of an orgasm.

That nickname sends a bigger impact to your core than it should’ve. You sit up and lean forward, planting a sloppy kiss against his lips. He kisses back immediately, eager and needy. You pull away, “didn’t know you were this whiny.”

He forms a small frown, which makes you giggle, “I’ll let you cum, stop whining,” you kiss along his neck, down his chest, abs, and stopping right before his dick. “You got a condom?”

“You think I planned this?’ He tugs on his handcuffs. Right. He definitely wasn’t planning on fucking his ex-girlfriend.

You get off the bed, rummaging the nightstands, hoping for condoms to be here. Nope. “Fuck,” you frustratedly groan, pushing your hair to one side. “Now what?”

That question lingers in the air, the two of you staring at each other. No condom, and two horny adults. There was only one solution. No, two solutions. But who in their right mind would suggest that one-

“Raw,” Drew speaks up.

“Raw?” You’ve never gone raw before; the risks of it overpowering the pleasure of it. You glance that Drew, seeing how calm he was to suggest that. Then at his dick, which was still erected.

“Unless you want to go back downstairs.”

Oh god. You didn’t want to; you wanted to have sex with Drew. But you had to be honest; the idea of raw sex was terrifying.

“Y/n?” His blue eyes meet yours, “sit down first.”

You sit back down beside him, placing your hand on his lower stomach. “Raw?” You’re more asking yourself, yet you look at Drew’s face.

Drew. Going raw with Drew. Drew. Not some random guy. The Drew that you’ve found yourself get really into. Okay. Maybe if you two didn’t break up a month ago, you would’ve gotten to that point with him anyways, right?

“You okay?” He asks gently.

You give him a soft smile, getting yourself between his legs yet again. “Can’t be any different than a condom, right?”

He smirks at your agreement of this, “hope so.”

You lean forward and give him a quick peck on the lips. “Stretch yourself out first,” he reminds, looking down towards your core. You take your underwear off, sitting back and spreading your legs. It gives Drew the clear view of your pussy; and he groans at that. “Need help?”

He tugs on his handcuffs. Pretty sure it’ll bruise his wrists if he continues to move against them. The sly smile on his lips tell you everything; “I got it,” you assure him.

You line two fingers against yourself; and then put it in. “Shit,” you groan at how wet you are already; thrusting your fingers in slowly.

You can’t help but compare your own fingering to Drew’s; finding his more satisfying to your core. Nevertheless, you stretch yourself out just like Drew says, picking the pace after a few seconds. “Fuck,” you hear him groan; and after a couple of sloppy thrusts, you pull out, finding yourself stretched.

“Good?” He asks, watching as you straddle yourself on his waist again.

“Perfect,” you practically purr, leaning forward and kissing him. You feel his smile against your lips; him kissing you back tenderly.

You pull away and look down; aligning yourself with his dick. Shit.

You sink down, feeling his cock enter you slowly. You moan loudly at the feeling; no barriers between the two anymore. When you sit down fully, you’re sure his tip hits the back of your core.

Drew throws his head back in pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Feels real good,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering to stay open.

You giggle gently at his reaction; and you raise your hips, ready to start moving. You move up, then slide back down on him. “Shit,” you curse, the sensation unreal.

Raising your hips again, you start riding him, at an unusual slow pace. Your nails dig into his shoulders, transferring the pain there. “Wanna touch you,” he voices out, tugging on the handcuffs.

“You touch me all the time,” you hum, continuing to slam yourself up and down him. He groans at that, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Touch yourself for me, then,” he thrusts his hip upwards, causing you to moan at the friction.

You do as told; bringing your hands up to your breasts and squeezing them while bouncing. You’ve never felt this much pleasure; the feeling of Drew watching you while you ride him, your hands all over while you imagine it being him.

The sound of skin slapping, heavy moans, and the tugs of Drew’s cuffs fill the room, as well as the rising temperature in here. This sex experience reminds you just how much you and Drew are compatible for each other; easily kinky and fond together.

You feel the familiar hotness fill up your core, your movements getting more sloppy. “Close?” He asks, sounding breathless.

“Yes,” you moan, your hands back around his shoulders.

Drew leans himself upwards with his upper body, and he gives you a messy kiss. His kiss sends you over the ledge; and you feel the knot coming undone. He pulls away with a smug smile, “came all over my cock.”

“Shut up,” you smile, pulling him back and kissing him again. You liked kissing him more than you should.

“Hey, can you undo these for me?” He tugs on the handcuffs for the nth time tonight.

“Should I?” You cock your head playfully to the side. He playfully thrusts upwards towards your core, and you groan at that. “Fuck, Drew.”

“C’mon, undo me,” he begs, his blue eyes staring teasingly into yours.

Gosh, this man. It’s unfair how attractive he is, from his looks to his actions. Everything, just touches your heart. You pull out of him, the stickiness around your legs don’t feel as gross as they should. But you do miss the warmth of him, feeling bit empty.

You search around for your duty belt; grabbing it off the floor. It had three little compartments around it, and you rummage around each one. The cheap material makes it hard to open each.

“Babe, you’re taking forever,” you hear him behind you.

You ignore his comment; working your way to the last one. Surely the key had to be in the last one, right?

Is it; and you throw the belt back down, turning back to him. “Were you always this impatient?” You ask, unlocking both of his wrists.

The handcuffs shoot down as soon as you’re done; and he flips you under him in one fast motion. You let out a shriek, not expecting to be pinned in mere seconds. He looks down at you with a small smirk, “my turn.”

“What?” You let out a nervous giggle, his hold on your wrists tightening.

You let out a loud gasp when he shrinks his length down into your core; pushing it fully in at once. Shit, shit, shit. His lips attach themselves to your neck, leaving love bites, eventually moving down lower. “Drew,” you manage to breathe out despite feeling the weight of him down on you.

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your skin, one hand intertwining with yours.

“…feels good,” you admit, even though it was unexpected to be pinned down. Having his cock fully in you; felt like heaven. Now, he’s gonna give you your second orgasm of the night; halloween? Must be Christmas.

“I’know,” he kisses your jaw, his other hand now kneading your breasts. “Besides, haven’t cummed yet.”

Oh. You were consumed with chasing your own orgasm, you didn’t realize that Drew hasn’t had his yet.

Drew starts to push his body into yours, picking up the pace after each thrust. He hits your exact g-spots, knowing your body all too well. You moan loudly in his ear, mixed in with his. Just like that, your second orgasm slowly forms.

“Shit,” he curses, his hands locking tightly with yours.

Okay, raw sex definitely felt better than condom ones. Or was it because it’s Drew? Either way, you want to do this more, honestly. Maybe the handcuffs too.

“Close, Drew,” you breathe out between thrusts.

“Same, babe,” he kisses your cheek.

The knot comes undone for the second time tonight, and you cum over his dick. At the same time, you feel it twitch inside you; his turn.

Drew gets ready to pull out, but you hurriedly wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Cum inside me,” you urge him, wanting to feel yourself filled with his orgasm.

Drew gives you a lazy smile, lips leaning towards yours. And this kiss, was more endearing, his tongue moving in a soft tempo. He cums, and you feel the warmth of him mixing with yours.

You smile back against his lips; you’ve never had such mind-blowing sex.

He eventually pulls out of you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. You let him clean you up, leaning against the headboard; the two of you staying silent to recover from what just happened.

And slowly, the realization of what happened, fogs up the both of your minds. Lust is gone, now only left with clarification. Clarification of what’ll be next, between the two of you.

“Drew?” You speak up, as he finishes and cleans himself up quickly, throwing it in the trash after.

He sits by your legs, his blue eyes looking up and meeting yours. “I miss you.” That confession catches you off guard. You gulp, looking down at your lap. “I’m sorry,” he adds, voice cracking.

Your heart aches at that; and you feel him move to the spot besides you. He pulls the covers up, covering the both of you. “I’m sorry,” he repeats once again, “I’m, I’m a stupid fuck.”

“You are,” you agree, still looking down and playing with your fingers.

“I just…we dated for a year. And, I just got scared?” The last part was almost as if he also didn’t believe himself for feeling that way.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, just…something I feel. But I realized, not being with you was worse,” his hands wrap around yours, and you look up at him. His blue eyes are mixed with regret, sincerity, and…love. Well, at least you interpret it that way.

“Took a month away from me to realize that?”

“Yes. I think that just shows how idiotic I am. Trust me, the past month was horrible.”

You giggle, “you can’t just dump me whenever you feel like it.”

“First and last time,” he promises.

“What?” You look at him questionably.

“If you’ll take me back.”

Do you want to take Drew back? Your mind was screaming no, but your heart was telling you to spend forever with him. He really hurt you, and he really is an idiot. But he’s your idiot. And one year of dating has told you that he does make stupid decisions, coming to regret them later.

Fuck it. You always listened to your heart anyways. “Fine, if you insist,” you playfully say, your hands intertwining with his again. You missed holding onto these hands. Then, your eyes drop to his wrists, seeing the red spots around them. “Drew, those handcuffs-“

Drew’s other hand cups your face, and he sends an attack of his kisses to your cheek. You laugh loudly at that, which just drives him to give you more. “Hey-“ he kisses your lips, the two of you leaning down until your backs hit the mattress.

“I…”

“Hmm?” You stare into his eyes. He stares at you all smitten, his lips slightly open in awe.

“I…love you,” he confesses.

Oh. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fight to get out, and you let them. You love Drew. Yeah, you love Drew. After everything you’ve been through with him, you deserved to be loved, to be loved by him. “I love you more,” you emphasize on the last word.

“Fuck,” he kisses you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer into his arms. “Driving me insane. Insane, y’know that?”

“I’know,” you giggle, the two of you staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. You’ve never felt happier. And when your hands run through his scalp; you’re reminded of his buzzcut. “Hey, why did you shave your hair?”

“It got annoying,” he rubs circles around your waist, “and, well, I missed you.”

“so you shaved your hair?”

“…yeah,” suddenly he gets shy, burying his face into your neck. You smile at that, feeling like he’s a little baby.

After a few seconds, he murmurs against your neck. “Hey, y’know what you should dress up as next year?”

“Next year already?” You look down at him, him looking back up at you.

“Yeah,” he pulls away, “Lola bunny.”

Lola bunny? Wasn’t that the cartoon character? From Loony tunes? You furrow your eyebrows at Drew, “why?”

He gives you a grin, “kinda…my childhood crush.”

“Really?” This is the first time he’s telling you this; and you can’t help but grow amused at that. Lola bunny? Maybe that can explain why he’s so weird sometimes. Cute weird. “Will you be my Bugs then?”

“Of course,” he immediately says, “not Paul, that’s for sure.”

Paul. You’re suddenly reminded of that gross man you asked to come with you; and also of Drew’s jealously. Hey, he’s jealous! That thought is bought up in your mind once again, thanks to Drew himself. What girlfriend would you be if you didn’t tease him about it? “Oh, you were so jealous.”

“Jealous? No,” he denies, even with the small smirk on his lips.

“So it’s okay if I see Paul-“

“We’re together, now. Like, literally a few seconds ago,” he cuts you off. “Screw Paul. Or any other guy.”

“That’s jealousy,” you smile, pointing at his face.

He bites on your finger, causing you to shriek and put your finger down. “Just love you a lot.”

Your heart warms at that; but it doesn’t change your mind about how jealous he was. “Drew, you don’t need to be jealous. I’m yours.”

He chuckles, “I’m not jealous!”

Okay. He might never admit it. His pride, and his overall aura, jealousy just won’t be something he wants to bow down to.

“Of course,” you rest your chin on his forehead. “Of course.”

“I wasn’t jealous!” He continues to hum.

“Shhh,” you coo at him, rubbing the skin around his shoulders, which feel firm yet soft. Your eyes are falling heavy, and in Drew’s arms, you knew you could get some comfortable sleep. The first time; for the past month.

You close your eyes, ready to drift to sleep, when Drew says, “I think we went over 7 minutes.”

“Huh?” You lazily reply, your brain ready to turn off.

“Nothing.”

That was the end of the conversation; and you drifted off to sleep, knowing that Drew was beside you. The familiar scent of him dozes you off, and you feel safe knowing he’s going to be taking care of you.

Lola bunny. Maybe you should dress up like her next year, fulfill Drew’s nasty fantasies. Huh. Maybe.

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word count: 6.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: petition for drew to be patrick bateman 🙋‍♀️

happy halloween! what are you dressing up as??? hope you enjoyed this oneshot, kinky and got really sweet in the end. pls ignore any mistakes; i hate proofreading. anyways, happy halloween! ik im already looking forward to christmas ;)

elevator | other | mr & mrs starkey | mistletoe

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #x reader #drew starkey x you #oneshot #smut #angst #fiction #fluff #exes to lovers #kinktober

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wileys-russo · 2 months ago

Text

santa's biggest fan II l.williamson

part of the mila-verse and a little belated christmas fic i never finished in time santa's biggest fan II l.williamson "okay mils, time for bed bubba!" you clapped your hands together when the movie finished, the end credits rolling and your wife heaving a sigh of relief as your daughter groaned.

"another one! i'm not tired." the small blonde demanded, curling even more into leah who smiled in amusement, but that dropped the moment you gave her a hard look of warning.

"bubba if you don't go to sleep, santa won't come!" the footballer whistled with a firm nod as mila looked up to her in shock. "he only comes when everyone is sleeping." you back her up with another nod.

"okay lets all go to bed come on!" mila announced, launching herself off the lounge and sprinting off in the direction of yours and leahs room.

"mila babe, mummy and i don't go to sleep yet. remember how we talked about grown up bedtime is different to kid bedtime?" you called after her, footsteps thundering back down the hall as you were grateful you didn't still live in the tiny upstairs apartment you and leah first moved into together years before mila was even a thought.

"then why can't i stay up with you? its a special night, mummy said so! that should mean special rules." mila huffed, bottom lip jutting out into an adorable pout as she stomped her foot.

"it is already an hour past your bedtime little miss, now go on jump into bed and we'll come in and read you a special story. right?" leah chimed in, mila shaking her head and with a resoundingly stubborn no! was off and racing around the house again as you and leah shared a knowing look.

"my love i have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

and safe to say you weren't a betting woman but you were right on the money with that predication.

"is she..." you whispered to your wife as she ever so slowly tip toed back into the living room with a quick nod and you exhaled in relief. "how many stories?" you asked with a slight smile of amusement, opening your arms as the blonde sank down into them with a huff.

"the same one, over and over, seven bloody times. i might just add in the murder of that hungry hungry caterpillar the next fucking time i read it!" leah grumbled into your neck, your body vibrating beneath her with a quiet laughter.

"its not funny! god why are kids like this? first it was that awful baby shark song, then it was that awful show about fruit and friendship or whatever, now its the same awful book on repeat!" leah whined as you merely smiled, hand slipping up her hoodie to scratch your nails gently up and down her back.

"kids just like repetition baby its safe for them, they know they won't be disappointed. almost like a defender i know who has had the same pregame routine for...what is it now? ten? eleven years?" you chuckled, leahs head whipping up to scowl down at you as her taller body hovered over yours.

"that is not the same thing!" she whisper yelled defensively as your smile widened into a grin.

"is too. or should we talk about the rotation of bland beige meals you rotate? our daughter has a more adventurous palette than you, at least she can handle some seasoning and colour!" you teased, poking your tongue out in response to her offended scoff.

"i will have you know-" your hand darted up to cover her mouth with a sharp shut up at her raised tone of voice, peeking your head up to glance over your wifes shoulder, sighing in relief when mila didn't appear.

"you know my girl there is another way you could shut me up thats much more pleasant for both of us." leah smirked once you'd removed your hand, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as you tried to bite back your smile, her arms planting themselves either side of your head.

"is that mistletoe?" leah frowned looking up at the ceiling but the moment you tried to glance up her mouth connected with yours, your fingers pinching her side. "you're unbelievable." you mumbled against her lips with a slight snicker.

"unbelievably sexy? oh baby, how you flatter me." leah gasped sarcastically, once again kissing you quickly before you could reply, settling herself comfortably on top of you as your tongues fought for dominance of the kiss.

but before anyone could win there was an interruption, leah falling off of you in shock and groaning as her back met the floor with a thump.

"i'm not tired and i can't sleep!" mila repeated, stomping her foot with a scowl that was a near mirror image of your wives from where she sat on the floor muttering about her tailbone.

with a deep sigh you sat up, swinging yourself to push off the sofa and scooping up the tiny blonde, settling her on your hip. "well that's too bad mil, it is way past your bedtime!" you carried her back to her room, protests ringing out the entire time.

"story!" the girl demanded as you tucked her back into bed, sighing again and reaching for the book already sat on the bedside table, making yourself comfortable in the armchair by your daughters bed.

"in the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf..."

"-then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out and-" "-and he was a beautiful butterfly!" your daughter finished excitedly, clapping her hands and nowhere near close to sleep as you exhaled tiredly and snapped the book shut.

"right i've read this three times now and you're a big girl right bubba? well big girls go to sleep when they're supposed to. so you and gunner-" you paused to adjust the little dinosaur plushie held tightly in your daughters grasp.

"-are going to lay here very quietly together, until you fall asleep. or else no santa! you want santa to come visit right mils?" you ran a hand through her mess of blonde hair as she nodded eagerly.

"mama!" her hand grabbed a fistful of your hoodie as you stood and ducked down to kiss her forehead. "yes baby?" you sighed with a small smile.

"cuddles till i fall asleep? pwease?" the four year old pouted, hitting you with the puppy dog eyes she knew worked like a charm on the pair of you most of the time.

"don't do that mil, you know how to do your L's properly." you warned with a look. "please! please, please, please, please-" mila begged as you sighed, seemingly more tired than she was at this rate and knowing the later she stayed up the later you and leah had to stay up to sort out her presents.

"okay! okay okay. but just for a little while, yeah?" you gave in, gently tugging her hands off you and moving to flick the big light in her room off, leaving only the small red arsenal nightlight illuminating a pathway to her door.

"bubba no-" you tried as you laid down beside her, the four year old climbing basically on top of you, her gunnasaurus plushie squished against your cheek as you exhaled, not bothered for the argument.

one hand moving to tangle in her hair your fingers moved rhythmically against her scalp, feeling her limbs ragdoll as her body became that little bit heavier, her breathing evening out against your collarbone.

you waited a few more minutes until you were sure she was properly asleep before very very carefully moving her back into bed, wincing as you struggled to detatch her arms which seemed to be locked around your neck.

though you didn't make it two steps towards the door before she awoke again, tiredly sitting up and wiping her eyes as you exhaled with a shake of your head.

"mama no! more cuddles." "no more cuddles bubba, time to go to sleep. mama will sit by the door for five minutes until you sleep again, okay?" you bargained quietly, your daughter seeming to accept that with a nod as she sank back down in bed right as you sat down on the floor.

five minutes passed though again as you tried to leave her voice rang out for you to stay and you sank back down to the floor with a frustrated sigh, gently encouraging her to lay down and try to sleep.

ten more minutes and you managed to crawl out of the room without interruption, leaving her door open ajar and returning the living room where your wife was still sat up awake, now bundled beneath a blanket.

"come here." the defender smiled knowingly, moving the blanket and adjusting to give you some room to sit between her legs, patting the sofa encouragingly.

though your ass had barely made contact before it sounded again, now both you and leah groaning quietly.

"mama! mummy! i had a bad dream!"

"she's down?" you asked hopefully, now sat comfortably beneath the blanket leah once was, your wife tag teaming to go and lay down with your daughter a half an hour ago, only now emerging.

"for the count." leah confirmed with a tired nod, taking a seat beside you and wiggling beneath the blanket, grabbing your legs and moving them to rest on her lap.

"shit its nearly midnight!" leah realised with a huff, tapping her phone and seeing the time as you hummed, your head resting on her shoulder. "she's a night owl like her mummy!" you teased, patting leahs chest who flicked your ear playfully.

"god i love this movie." you hummed happily, the two of you having been watching bits and pieces of the holiday as you took turns popping in and out of your daughters bedroom to try and get her to succumb to sleep so the pair of you could play santa.

and as your movie finished and there'd been no sight of mila for at least forty minutes now, you readied yourself to do just that, the presents all neatly stacked in your bedroom as leah counted quietly to make sure everything was accounted for.

"-so the bike stays here from us, and the new predator boots go out from santa." leah rolled her eyes at that making you grin, alessia having insisted her goddaughter grew up on predators boots instead of phantoms, something which had driven leah up the wall from the very moment the topic was raised, both you and your best friend adidas athletes while she was with nike.

"i'll go check she's asleep and grab the stocking off her bed, mrs claus." you winked, stealing a kiss from the grumpy blonde whose eyes rolled.

you'd grown up doing christmas a little differently from your wife, the stocking always sat on the foot of your bed rather than hung in the living room, a tradition you'd carried on through your daughter much to leahs protests it made everything ten times harder.

and tonight unfortunately, you were about to find out she was very very right.

you ever so carefully pushed open your daughters door, sticking your head in and surveying the room. "santa?" you heard a tired voice call out groggily, quickly pulling your head back and swearing under your breath, waiting by the door for a moment to see if she'd get up.

but it would seem the small blonde was at least half asleep as no footsteps sounded, and you hurried back to the bedroom where leah was nowhere to be seen, found in the living room meticulously organising the presents beneath the tree.

"we've got a problem." you sighed as she looked up with a frown and an eyebrow raised questioningly. "she's awake still? seriously? its nearly two in the morning babe this is ridiculous!" leah whispered as your eyes rolled.

"sort of, she's not quite asleep but she's not fully awake. we could wait a little while longer?" you sighed tiredly, running a hand through your hair as leah pulled a face.

"you and i both know she's not sleeping past five in the morning babe, no matter when she falls asleep, and i need sleep to deal with our families all day!" leah whined, head thumping against the wall.

"what and i don't leah? we'll just wait ten minutes and i'll check again!" you warned, your wife too tired to protest as she nodded, joining you on the lounge a few moments later.

sure enough when you popped your head in a little while later mila appeared to be sleeping, not a peep heard as you waited a few seconds to be sure, though your breath hitched as she tossed and turned suddenly.

"she's restless, i'm worried she'll wake up." you sighed as you returned to your bedroom where leah was waiting. "you're joking yeah? it'll be fine! lets just get it over and done with." the defender scoffed bluntly, trying to stand from the bed as you pushed at her chest and sent her bouncing back down.

"leah. we are not ruining the magic of christmas for our four year old daughter who loves santa." you growled tiredly, giving her a dirty look before disappearing into the en-suite, rummaging around for something.

"well we're also not being held hostage by that four year old for another hour!" your wife growled right back as she popped up in the doorway. "correct. so, time for plan b!" you stood and leahs hardened face fell seeing what you held in your hands.

"oh absolutely the fuck not. i know what you're thinking babe and thats not happening!"

only a few minutes later, it was most definitely happening despite your wives ongoing grumbles and mumbles of protest as you carefully stuck the cotton wool balls to her face.

"this is fucking ridiculous!" leah grunted unhappily, scrunching her nose up as you finished the makeshift beard, the blonde clad in a matching red arsenal tracksuit with a couple of pillows stuffed up her jumper and a white scarf tied around her waist.

"babe i look like a bloody garden gnome not santa!" leah whined as she caught sight of herself in the mirror and winced, a red arsenal beanie with a funnel under it to create somewhat of a makeshift santa hat teetering precariously on her head.

"she won't notice in the dark if she wakes up leah. you'll just crawl in, try not to wake her, get the stocking. we fill it, you crawl in and put it very carefully back, and we're off to bed!" you recounted, shoving her out of your bedroom and toward your daughters.

"go santa go!" you whispered, hand colliding with her ass encouragingly as she jumped in surprise and turned to give you a filthy look.

"oi you better watch it, elf." the blonde pointed menacingly as your eyes rolled, hiding a smile as your wife dropped to her stomach, pushing mila's door open and very carefully commando crawling inside.

you felt as though you couldn't breathe until she returned, a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing as she crawled out again a moment later dragging the stocking with her.

"don't you dare laugh." the older girl muttered, hitting you in the face with the stocking as the air of you hurried to fill it with presents quickly as possible, your breath again stopped as leah began the crawl inside to put it back.

thankfully despite a few tired mumbles and a sleepy roll over that had leah dropping flat to the floor, her mission was successful and a very sudden burst of adrenaline filled her body as she crawled out and ever so carefully pulled the door shut with a soft click.

your own bedroom door closing you squealed as a body hurtled into yours, a few loose cotton balls falling to hit you in the head as your back hit the mattress and your wife hovered over you with a cheeky grin and an all too familiar glint in her eyes.

"now i think santa deserves a little reward for all her hard hard work tonight my darling, don't you?"

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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pullupinarari · 6 days ago

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Love you like you need [LH]

summary: you wake up feeling sick, and your daughter makes sure to boss your husband around so he can take good care of you.

• masterlist

wc: 3776 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

You wake up hating the fact that you opened your eyes, already. Your throat feels dry, your body is sore, your nose is clogged, making it impossible for you to breathe properly. Groaning, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the uncomfortable sensations erupting through you as you try to move your body, getting out of bed.

It’s still early, the clock reads 8:12 am. And while your husband is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, he hears your soft sniffles followed by the sound of you blowing your nose. Furrowing his eyebrows, the man soon leaves the restroom, only to find his wife sitting at the edge of your shared bed, taking some pills.

Lewis is already fully dressed, ready to leave the house to attend some work meetings when he steps inside the bedroom again, slowly walking to you. His hands land on your shoulders gently, carefully massaging them as you instinctively lean your head against his chest.

- Are you okay, love? - he asks you as his lips touch your neck, kissing your skin softly.

The man notices the dark bags under your eyes, how your lips look more pale, as if today has stolen from them the plump, cherry tone that your husband loves so much, alongside your red-ish eyes, that are still puffy and tired from the restless night you just had.

- Yeah, I’m fine - your hoarse voice replies, clearing your throat as your husband looks at you with a raised eyebrow, highly doubting your statement, that doesn’t match your face at all. - Are you sure? - he insists, moving so he can take a better look at you, noticing that you don’t look as good as you try to convince him.

You slightly roll your eyes at him, pecking his cheek carefully - trying not to get him sick as well. Yes, you’re not feeling the greatest, but it’s just a cold, you will live through it. Yes, you would love for Lewis to spend the day with you, cuddling you or watching over Grace, so you could hide behind the covers and sleep this flu away.

However, you are aware of all his professional duties, and there’s no way that you will encourage him to call out of work. So, with an unconvincing smile, you insist: you are fine, and you can make it through the day with a cold.

Sighing softly, the man puts his arms up as if he is surrendering.

- Okay, okay. Call me if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be back in a blink of an eye - your husband lets you know, capturing your lips in a loving kiss as his arms wrap around your waist, holding you closer to him for a moment.

Nodding your head at his words, you allow the man to leave without feeling any remorse - it’s just a cold, after all. And you really try to keep your routine as normal as possible, going to wake Grace a little later than usual, allowing the little girl to sleep longer as you end up falling asleep in the middle of your covers as well.

Even with a sore body, a hurt throat, you try your best to keep your energy at an acceptable rate, so you can waste it all with your curious girl: the three-year-old that wants to explore this entire world, as well as the entire galaxy - all at the same time.

But you physically can’t. As the hours pass by, your figure grows colder, your limbs hurt more and more, you get caught in coughing fits more frequently, and it gets to a point when your daughter looks at you with her chocolate eyes full of pity, feeling bad from seeing her mummy so sick. And you notice the way Grace calms down as well, suggesting that you two would lay on the sofa, just watching her favourite cartoons as the toddler gently caresses your cheek with the back of her hand - making a genuine smile appear in your face as you hold your baby close.

You seem to relax a bit as you stop moving around to meet Grace and her activities. However, your daughter feels exasperated, waiting for her daddy to come home, her small eyebrows furrowing slightly while she puts her brain to work.

Mummy was already sick when she woke me up. And daddy had already been to work. Didn’t he see that mummy wasn’t feeling good?! Why is he not home yet? - the little girl thinks to herself, moving her hand gently to touch your hair softly, trying to shoo a bit of the pain away from her mummy’s figure.

You don’t even notice the hours passing by, feeling your eyes growing heavier and heavier, fighting the will to fall asleep on your child, trying your best to stay as awake as you can for her. And you manage to do it, even if at much cost for your body and rest.

But when you hear the keys turning on the front door, Grace immediately leaves her spot next to you, running to meet her daddy - something that it’s definitely not a surprise to you.

Lewis is also used to having the light of his life waiting for him when he comes home, but today, the light of his life looks at him more as a storm, ready to crash on him as the little girl crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at him impatiently before speaking.

- Lewis Daddy Hamilton! Where have you been?! Mummy is so sick! - the toddler asks in an urgency, her tone reprimanding her dad for not being home all this time.

Your husband is taken aback as he walks inside your shared house, raising an eyebrow at his kid’s words.

- Well hello to you too, my love. Daddy was at work! Mummy isn’t feeling better? - the man asks, keeping his tone light and soft for his baby. - No! She is not feeling better! Aren’t you her husband?! In sickness and health?! - Grace is agitated, feeling nervous as she puts emphasis on certain words, one hand on her hip and pointing a finger at her dad from time to time.

The three-year-old’s words make his heart clench in his chest as he realizes that the medicine you had earlier in the morning didn’t help much, and that you need some serious care from your husband and daughter. But still, Lewis can’t stop noticing Grace’s references.

- How on earth did you learn about wedding vows, miss? - the man questions curiously, only to be met with an impatient eye roll from his daughter, who just replies back ‘the telly’ in an obvious tone.

Chuckling slightly, Lewis fills a cup with water, handing it to the toddler.

- Alright, alright, miss. I’ll call out of work for the afternoon. Can you take this to mummy, please? Be careful - he advises, handing her the cup, making sure it’s secured in her little hands.

Grace nods, preparing her last words before she leaves the kitchen.

- Mummy needs medicine and a nice, warm soup. Get to work! - she says in a bossy tone before walking back to you, giving smaller steps so as not to spill the water on the floor.

You take the cup from her hands, thanking your little one as you finally get some water to slide down your dry throat, relieving the pain for a few seconds.

- Drink it all, mummy, so you can feel better - Grace’s tone when directed at you is as sweet as honey, wanting to help her mummy feeling better.

Kissing her cheek softly, you let her know that she is all that you need to feel better. The words make your baby blush a little, and they’re not a lie. But today, you’re afraid that Grace won’t be the remedy to the cold that continues to creep more and more on your body - definitely in need to mix her cuddles with some effective medicine.

As the girl joins your side again, you wrap her in the blanket that’s keeping your body warm, hugging her the way both of you enjoy so much. However, just a few seconds later, your husband comes into sight, seeing you for the first time since he left the house this morning. He gives you a gentle smile, seeing his two girls cuddled on the sofa, but immediately realizing that’s not the best place for you to rest your body in, now.

- You said you were fine, huh? - Lewis banters for a second, remembering the words that you gave him in the morning, kissing your hand softly as he sits on the edge of the couch for a few seconds. - And I am - you reply, just in time to get caught in another coughing fit, noticing the look that the man gives you, not believing that you continue to insist that you are okay, when you are so visibly sick.

Shaking his head, the man gets up from his spot.

- How about we take you to bed, love? Your body will keep hurting if you lay here, all bent, for any longer - he suggests, and you know that he is right, groaning more as you feel every inch of your limbs hurting more and more when you try to move slightly, sitting down in your place so you can leave the sofa.

However, a surprised yelp escapes your lips when your husband’s arms wrap around your figure carefully, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your bed - even earning a giggle from his daughter once he winks at her, showing her that he started complying to his ‘husbandly duties’ right away.

His arms lay you down on the sheets slowly and carefully, as if you were made of porcelain in his hands, gently wrapping your body with the warm covers. Once the man sees that you seem way more comfortable now, he lands a kiss on your forehead, noticing how hot your skin feels.

- Baby, you’re burning - he informs you, putting his mind to work as he remembers where you usually put the medicine that you need so much now.

Walking inside the bathroom, the man searches the counter, hearing Grace’s little feet running to meet her dad.

- I’ll take the medicine for mummy, daddy! I want to help too - the toddler says with big eyes, peeking through the door to check if you’re still lying down, as you are not authorized by your daughter to leave the bed! - Here, love - Lewis catches her attention again, seeing how the girl cups her hands in a shell shape, so her daddy can place down two pills that the child makes sure to take safely to her mum.

Carefully walking over to you, your daughter hands you the medicine that you make sure to chug down with a water bottle, desperate to have something that will help you feel better once and for all.

- Bubs, how about you come downstairs and help daddy cook lunch? So we can let mummy get some rest, alright? - Lewis offers softly, smiling at you when he sees you smiling back at him, a silent ‘thank you’ for taking care of you, for giving you some time for yourself, so you can have some peace of mind and allow your body to finally relax.

Grace nods at her dad’s words, walking over to the edge of the bed to kiss your cheek lovingly.

- Don’t leave the bed, mummy! If you need anything, you call me and I come running immediately! Okay? I want you to get better - the toddler whispers softly to you, as if she is trying to not disturb your recovery. - I’ll make sure to be right here when you’re back, my love. Thank you - you whisper back, hugging her as the little girl wraps her arms around your neck gently, before meeting her dad near the door.

Picking her up, Lewis goes back to the kitchen, getting everything ready to cook you a warm soup, that you so desperately need.

- Do you want to help me, princess? - he tries to catch the toddler’s attention, who is ready to reply to his question. - No - Grace says unapologetically, while sitting on her chair. - I spent the entire morning cuddling with mummy when you should have been here, but you weren’t. - your daughter states her ground, with her small hands on her hips and all.

She is merciless with her words, still feeling frustrated by seeing her mummy sick. Mummy never gets sick, and when she does, daddy is not home to help her!

- I’m sorry Gracie, but mummy told me that she was fine this morning. I didn’t know she was this sick, baby - Lewis tries to explain his side, making up for his absence during the morning as he starts chopping vegetables for the soup.

Putting her hand up in a ‘stop’ movement, the little girl makes the man stop in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows at her actions.

- Yeah yeah Lewis, excuses - she rolls her eyes at him again, losing all patience with her father and his words. - Do I have to be the one doing everything in this house?!

Lewis is dumbfounded, several question marks visible on his face as he stares at his kid, not enjoying her attitude at all.

- Miss, I advise you to watch that tone. I’m still your father - he says in a more stern way and a serious facial expression, going back to focus on the cooking as silence installs in the kitchen right after.

For some more minutes, the two of them cook your soup together. ‘Together’, meaning that your daughter was giving all the orders, making sure that your husband followed them.

Lewis sighs from time to time, his mind divided between you and your health state, and Grace and the unbearable attitude that she has today, but he decides to relativize it, focusing on feeding his two girls - hoping that both of you might feel better right after.

Your child gets tired of looking at her dad cooking, leaving her seat to go back to your room. However, before she leaves the kitchen, she gives Lewis another threatening look.

- I am going to check on your wife, don’t mess up her food! - she emphasises, pointing two fingers from her eyes to him, silently telling dad that she has her eyes on him.

Lewis doesn’t even reply to her, sighing loudly as he shakes his head at his daughter's antics, not really understanding how she can sustain so much attitude inside of her tiny figure. Meeting you in bed again, Grace smiles at the sight of Roscoe lying at your feet, the poor dog also sensing that you aren’t feeling well. You open one of your arms to nestle your kid next to you, missing the warmth erupting from her loving cuddles already, smiling when she hugs you right back.

- Daddy will be right here with your food, mummy - the toddler informs you, earning a soft nod from you as you turn on the television so you two can entertain yourselves with some of your favourite shows.

Choosing Gravity Falls, you and Grace pay attention to the telly, feeling some more comfort erupting through you from this moment with your little one. And time passes by faster, not really noticing it, until your husband is walking inside the room with a tray filled with food in his hands.

- I hope my girls are hungry, because I cooked a very! delicious soup, may I say, and we also have some noodles and fruit - the man announces the menu for lunch, winning some claps from his mini-version. - I am sooo hungry! - the toddler replies, crossing her arms again in a bossy way, even if her dad had already warned her about it.

Either way, your daughter calms down as soon as she starts eating, feeling her stomach more content with the nice food that Lewis had cooked for you, and you can totally relate to that sensation, feeling your body almost thanking you for the warm soup.

With the show still playing in the background, the three of you eat in peace, feeling the air lightening around your figures, as you finally feel the medicine kicking in, easing the pain that was being endured on your body for the past couple of hours.

- Did I redeem myself, miss Gracie? - your husband nudges your child slightly, allowing a teasing giggle to leave his lips.

You notice the way your daughter gets a bit shy at her dad’s provocation, hiding the blush on her cheeks with her small hand.

- Yes, BUT! - the three-year-old puts her finger up in the air - I think mummy should know how I had to boss you around for a bit.

Both you and Lewis chuckle in unison at your baby’s antics, and you can’t help but melt at the way the little girl immediately loses herself in her daddy’s arms, finally hugging him for the first time today.

- I was just worried, because I want mummy to be okay and happy - your little one says, looking at you while she’s still merged in her dad’s nestle as your husband softly kisses her temple.

You pout at her adorableness, welcoming her into your arms right next, thanking her for taking such good care of you when you are feeling so sick. You definitely wouldn’t feel better without your baby’s sweet cuddles.

Grace had a hint of sadness and concern inside of her tiny figure all day, worried about you - the strongest, most special mummy there is: Grace’s mummy, that takes care of her whenever the toddler is sick, sad, kissing away her tears and pain, nestling her to sleep, watching her favourite cartoons together, tickling her until her belly hurts from laughing so hard, sharing the most special moments between the two of you.

So, seeing her pillar frail, encouraged the little girl to stand up for you, even if that meant that she had to lose her way and boss her dad a bit, to make sure that he would take good care of you. And he did, as always. You knew that all you had to do was make a call to your husband’s number, and he would be home in a second if needed - but it’s best to blame your stubbornness for this one.

Apologising to her daddy for being bossy and even a bit rude sometimes, your husband immediately gives into the girl’s words, understanding how she was feeling insecure by seeing you sick - even if it’s just something as simple as a cold, hugging his mini-version once again.

Putting the tray now filled with dirty dishes to the side, you and Lewis lay down on your pillows, opening up space for Grace to lay in between the warmth of your bodies, where the toddler loves to be so much.

Sharing small giggles here and there, gentle touches erupt from your figures, as your husband’s fingers draw sweet patterns on your arm, since both you and your daughter are basically cuddled to his side, now - giving him the opportunity to land kisses on the top of your heads from time to time, as the three of you focus on the new episode of Gravity Falls that just started.

Out of nowhere, the three-year-old gets up from the space in between your figures, running out of the room, telling you how she forgot something in her bedroom. You imagine she would be back with her favourite plushie so she can hold him while watching the telly, but a surprised laugh escapes your lips when your child comes back into the room with a bar of chocolate in her hands.

- This is for you, mummy - Grace tells you, handing you the candy while looking at her dad with a compromised look and a giggle that she tries to suppress: she took it from Lewis’ “secret” stash of candy that he has in her room, and that you pretend not to know a thing about, even after your daughter telling you everything about it already.

The man looks at the little girl with an eyebrow raised, in a comical way, making the toddler laugh at the situation.

- Uhm… I’ll let this one slide because mummy is sick and she needs a sweet. But just so you know, I’m moving my candy from its place, so you won’t find them, little lady - Lewis jokes, his giggles mixing with Grace’s as he tickles her, obviously just messing around with his kid.

But Grace is still more witty than him, already ready to give her dad a piece of her sassiness, as she just ironizes:

- Uhmhm, we both know that’s not happening, daddy - looking at him with another hand to her hip in a very sassy, very Grace’s usual way, making you laugh so much that you get caught in another coughing fit.

And that’s the line that your family needs to calm down again, as your daughter gets back to her place in between her parents’ frames, her tiny fingers gently twirling some pieces of your hair while the child focuses on the cartoons again - something that she used to do when she was even smaller than she is now, and definitely a little action from her that’s enough to make your heart grow in your chest at the memories of something that she used to do repeatedly when she needed to calm down to sleep, and that she does so rarely now.

These are the moments that you live for, the fuel of your life and health, what immediately makes you feel better as you only need to have your daughter and your husband by your side, never forgetting about the loyal Roscoe as well - as if you could ever forget about him, this peaceful moment of cuddles in bed being punctuated by the dog’s loud snores that makes you and Lewis chuckle from time to time.

Some time after the cuddle session has started, Grace sneezes, sniffling a bit while never taking her eyes off the telly, making you and Lewis immediately look at each other with widened eyes - your conscience identifying the consequences of cuddling your daughter all day when you’re sick.

But even if tomorrow you’ll wake up to a chaotic household, sharing your cold with your toddler and making your husband call out of work to take care of you two, this is still where your gravity lays, the reason that makes you wish that everything stays still, longing forever in the warm, never ending love that strings your family together - something that you are so, so grateful for, in sickness and health.

#dad!lewis #dad!lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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jayktoralldaylong · 2 months ago

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One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.

I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!

"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀

Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.

Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.

And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.

Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.

Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.

I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.

And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.

Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.

Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.

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saintgoths · 2 months ago

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ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY.

GHOST BEING DESPERATE FOR HIS MISTRESS.

mummy kink, submissive ghost and even ooc but i want him to be desperate idc. ghost receiving a handjob etc.

if this gets over 500 notes i'll do a part two.

p!links

unread & feedback would be appreciated!

Who would’ve known just by your touch he could be so submissive, eager and desperate to be pleased, latching his mouth around your nipples as you pleased him, hand tight around his length you whispered sweet nothings to him as Ghost squirmed against your lap, he tried his best to not move his hips, challenging himself to be patient and obedient to your caress.

He moaned, eyes fluttered shot as he felt his cock twitch within your grasp. “Good boy, hold it for me,” you whispered, looking at him through the wisp of your eyelashes, watching how his brown eyes slowly revealed itself and closed again, he had been so beautiful under you, naked, with his scars and delicately carved muscles of his chest.

The heaviness of his chest slowly raised up and down, concentrating to calm himself, to not come in your hands, eyes squeezed shut he shivered within your grasp, his moans pinching to become louder within every other second. “Good boy,” you said again, sliding the pad of your thumb against the slit of his cock, and he gently arched his back, his hips moving in a strong motion, the skin of his balls clapping against the smoothness of your knuckles, the grip of his mouth strong around your nipple and the lower limbs of his body curved.

“Ye---Good boy,” he continuously repeated, like a praise, a hymn encouraging him to use your hand. “I’m a good boy---” he whispered and you moaned, the crease between your legs wet, aching to feel his size stretch you, but you held yourself back, moving your hand in the same speed of his hips while you saw how his eyes rolled back, how his bearded jaw had quivered as his load milked against your fingers, the texture thick and warm---his moans that echoed from the back of his throat had turned into whimpers and cracks, but he had still been hard.

Lips away from your breast, Ghost had caught his breath. You saw how his dick had jerked at the loss of your touch, and the orbs of his eyes had been revealed again, he had still been lustful, and he wanted more. “You’ve been a good boy,” you cooed as you stroked the short blonde strands of his hair. “So, you get to fuck me today.”

Gently, he made a noise, a noise of elation. You pulled yourself away from him, getting to your knees, your ass faced towards him revealing the wet folds of your pussy, you bit your lower lip. “Tell me how bad you want me,” you whispered and you could feel Ghost move to stand on his knees, the hardness of his cock shadowing your heat.

Impatient, Ghost trailed the warmth of his hands down your waist and holding your hips, the tip of his shaft had gently been pressed against you, it had ached to feel you but softly you pulled yourself away, your face turned to him, shadowed with passion and urge, you needed him greatly, but you had wanted to hear the words come from his mouth.

“I want you,” he said, his voice low, you tilted your head displeased, you had wanted to see more of the side Ghost usually hid away, the side his friends would be shocked at, the side that yearned for your dominance and for your validation. “I want you really bad---so fucking bad love.”

Widely, you grinned as he continued to express his desire, each time he expressed it, the pad of his fingers dug deeper into your skin, as if to control his lust.

“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’ll go insane,” he continued and pleased you turned your face around. “Please let me fuck you mummy---”

“Good boy,” you complimented, adjusting yourself against him, the nectar of your heat coating the tip of his size. “Now fuck me.”

P!LINK 1

P!LINK 2

ghost masterlist

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x smut #ghost simon riley #simon riley ghost #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod smut #cod x reader #ghost and his mistress #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

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Helper:Christmas

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Guppy

"I...I don't understand. What's...What's going on?"

"Just keeping holding it up," Codi whispers to Rosa, who looks like she's about to lower the tinsel that she's holding up.

"I don't get it. What's going on?"

"We're decorating the tree."

"No, I get that. But why are we holding it up in a line?"

On her other side, Leah huffs. "Because Lia's raising a kid who doesn't like mess and gets freaked out by Christmas trees. Ow! Lia!"

Lia's elbow, none too kindly, digs a bit further into Leah's ribs.

"Don't make fun of her!" She snaps, imaginary hackles raised in annoyance at Leah's dismissal before turning to Rosa to explain, much more kindly. "Guppy...She gets a bit overwhelmed about this kind of stuff and these cretins like to go overboard until the tree's a big mess. So, Guppy gets to pick the theme and then we all decorate. Leah's exaggerating."

"I'm just saying! Maybe exposure therapy will be good for her! I love her, Lia, I do. You know that. But you have to admit, this-"

Lia whips her beads at Leah in annoyance.

"Alrigh! Alright! I get it! Sorry!"

Lia's not finished though as she points to practically everyone in line in turn. "None of you are allowed to talk about that kind of stuff while y/n's in the room too, do you understand? She's sensitive and I'm not letting any of you make it worse!"

"I think they get it," Mario intervenes quickly," No one wants to make her feel bad."

Rosa's kind of glad that Mariona did. She's never seen Lia angry before. Annoyed, yes. Overtired, yes. But never angry. Not truly anyway but she's heard how protective Lia gets over you.

You're not really an oddball. You're not overwhelmingly weird either. But something that Rosa's noted is that you're very particular. She's never met a child so particular in her life. You like things done in a certain way.

You get all fidgety and anxious if you're not allowed to do things in the way you want and tend to start things over if it hasn't gone perfectly. You flick the lights on and off twice in whatever room you leave and you always knock on doors twice.

Rosa's seen you on the team bus, getting Lia to buckle and unbuckle your seatbelt twice over just before the bus sets off to whatever away match they need to get to.

You're just...

Different.

It's clear that Lia knows that too and a lot of her energy is put into making sure no one makes you think that you don't fit in.

"Alright!" Kim comes in holding your hand and from what Rosa strains to hear from Mario and Lia's conversation, this is normal too.

Kim helps you pick out the theme.

You both whisper together, Kim clearly going along with your childish wonder and happiness. She crouches down at your side as you look between Rosa and Kyra's tinsel.

Rosa's holding a red one and Kyra's holding a gold one.

Kyra wiggles it enticingly in your face but your features all scrunch up at once as you move away from Kim to take Rosa's hand and then to choose Codi and her matching green tinsel as well.

"Alright," Kim says," And what about baubles?"

"Er..." You look at the rest of the team and all the baubles they hold up to you, suddenly overwhelmed with choices.

You look at Leah's glittery baubles and shake your head.

"Not-Not glitter ones."

Then you catch sight of Lia and Mario, immediately breaking away from Kim to go crashing into them.

"Mummy!" You gasp," You bought the special beads from home!"

Wound around what looks to be an old piece of cardboard, is a long string of silver beads.

"I did," Lia says," Because our tree is too little for them this year. I thought we could use them on the Arsenal tree."

You nod, head bobbing up and down happily before you also take Mario's hand, dragging her into your little group of chosen people without even looking at the bauble in her hands.

"Nah!" Leah complains," This is so unfair! Why can't I be chosen?"

"Because you clearly didn't choose a good bauble this year," Beth teases," Not like me."

"Not Beth's bauble either," You say to Kim.

"Wait...What? Come on, come back!"

Decorating the tree is a team effort because while you may have been the one to make your selection, you're much too small to decorate it all by yourself and Rosa's found herself with you on her shoulders as you strain to put a candy cane onto the tree.

"Careful," Lia warns her," Keep straight or she'll fall."

"Rosa's doing fine," Steph says," And it's not like Guppy is going to start throwing herself around. She's very responsible."

"I am, Mummy!" You say," Very responsible! I helped Mrs Gina find the missing gluestick lid yesterday!"

So, Lia ends up worrying from a distance and insists on being the one to lift you up so you can put the star on the tree before letting you down and leading you from the room without any more preamble.

"What's happening now?" Rosa whispers as it looks like everyone starts sitting down on the floor in a little circle that she has no option but to join.

"Lia's been doing this since Guppy was born," Caitlin explains," We're getting presents now. It was pretty cute the first time, little gifts in baby y/n's hands. It was her handprint the year she was born and then it was like little keychains? She's old enough to give them out by herself now."

The present Rosa gets is kind of soft and squishy and it doesn't rattle or anything when she holds it up to her ear and shakes.

"No opening until Christmas!" You say once everything's been given out and everyone's attention is on you," Because that ruins the surprise! You can only open them on Christmas!"

The little Arsenal teddy bear you got her sits on Rosa's desk for the rest of the season.

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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theshitpostcalligrapher · 9 months ago

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SUPER BELATED Spring Cleaning 2024 Sale

okok the whole starting a separate part time job kinda threw me for a while but I've GOT MY SHIT TOGETHER!!! IT'S STILL SPRING!!!!

Basically, I have way too many print designs, and I've selected 9 of the older/less popular ones to phase out. I've put the following listings on sale for 25% off, and when they're out, they're OUT (unless people years down the line ask for a reprint batch or two). I updated the inventory quantity in each listing to accurately reflect how many of each print is left

this sale is gonna last a month, whatever's left over after the sale ends I'll just end up recycling. And from there on I'll be looking into creating funky NEW print designs for yall!

This sale doesn't affect the remaining 20-odd designs I have in the shop at the moment, you can still buy those whenever

1) why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food

2) Smashed Mouthe: Put Thy Show On

3) I may not know my flowers....

4) Born in a Graveyard Raised by a witch...

5) The only thing better than collecting BOG MUMMIES is BECOMING one! it's NATURAL, it's ORGANIC, and it's COMPLETELY FREE OF CHARGE!!!

6) Pinpath: A poem I wrote about my cross stitch needle, available in uncial and italic hands

7) Gaymer House (this one does well actually but I could have designed it nicer. Might just be selling out these old ones and come up with a new design for June)

8) Dummy Thicc Telltale Heart

9) Yeah, I'm into Battles Dragons Swords and Magic

The sale should be live! clicking those links should take you to the discounted listings, have fun yall!

I'll be boosting this a few times in the next day or two and then i'll limit boosts to once every few days or so in order to not fuck up anyone's dash

#calligraphy #shitpost #long post #sale #boost

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minniesfiles · 2 days ago

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SEVENTEEN AS GIRL DADS

❧ PAIRING; ot13 x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, very light angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; tooth rotting fluff, sprinkle of angst in some parts, some dramatic situations but fluffy ending, established relationship, first time parents

𐚁₊⊹

SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol was sitting at his desk leaned over his laptop as his fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. His brows were knotted in concentration as his eyes were fixed intently on the screen. With the deadline approaching, he was committed to completing this document before the end of the evening.

Then suddenly the door to his study room bursted open, slamming against the wall. Before he could react, a small figure rushed inside with her tiny feet pounding against the wooden floor. His five-year-old daughter, Haeun, ran straight towards him crying out loud with her red and tear-streaked face.

Hot on her heels was you, looking frustrated and exhausted. “Haeun, come back here!” you called as you stepped into the room.

But Haeun didn’t stop. She launched herself onto her father’s lap and buried her face into his chest. Her little body trembled as she cried.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched. He immediately forgot about his laptop, the document, and the upcoming deadline. Nothing mattered more than his daughter’s distress. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Shh, princess. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, tilting his head to look down at her.

“Mummy said…I c-can’t have…ice cream before dinner!” she managed to get out through hiccups and sniffles.

Seungcheol barely suppressed a smile. He glanced up at you, who crossed your arms and let out a tired sigh.

“She threw a tantrum when I said no,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then ran straight to you for backup.”

Your husband exhaled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head. It was a small thing, really, but to a five-year-old, it was the end of the world.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, gently pulling Haeun back so he could look into her teary eyes. “I know you really want ice cream, but Mummy’s right. If you eat it now, you won’t be hungry for dinner. And you need a good meal first, don’t you?”

Haeun sniffled as her lips quivered. “But…but I really wanted it…”

“I know, princess” he said as he wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “How about this? If you eat all your dinner, we’ll have ice cream together afterward. Does that sound like a deal?”

Haeun hesitated, her big brown eyes searching his. Then, after a moment, she nodded slowly. “Okay…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I said the same thing, and she threw a fit.”

Seungcheol rinned. “Dad privilege.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine. But only if she eats her vegetables.”

Haeun pouted but nodded again. “Okay Mummy.”

Seungcheol lifted her off his lap and set her on the floor. “Now, go wash your face, and we’ll have dinner soon.” Haeun gave him a quick hug before trotting off.

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “I swear, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he turned back to his laptop. “Yeah…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JEONGHAN

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when your six-year-old, Jiwoo, looked up from her colouring book and studied her father’s long, smooth hair. Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa reading a book as his dark brown locks brushed over his shoulders effortlessly. You often teased him about how unfair it was that his hair looked better than yours with minimum maintenance.

Jiwoo tapped her chin thoughtfully, and an idea formed in her head. She set her crayons down and hopped off the sofa, marching over to her father.

“Daddy?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head.

Jeonghan looked up from his book. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Braid my hair?” he blinked.

Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Please! Your hair is so pretty, and I want to make it even prettier!”

Jeonghan chuckled and set his book aside. “Well, how can I say no to that? Alright, let’s do it.”

Jiwoo clapped her hands in excitement and grabbed his wrist, leading him toward her bedroom. “You have to sit on my bed! And you can’t move, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grinning as he obediently sat on the small pink bed which his legs barely fitted.

“Wait here!” she instructed before running over to her little play hairdressing station in the corner of her room. She rummaged through her plastic vanity and began gathering her toy hairbrush, colourful clips, and a few ribbons she saved from old presents.

Jeonghan patiently sat with hands resting on his lap as his daughter returned with her arms full of supplies. She placed everything on the bed beside him, then climbed up behind him and ran her tiny fingers through his hair.

“Wow Daddy. Your hair is so smooth! Mummy always says she’s jealous,” Jiwoo said, giggling.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jeonghan smirked.

From the doorway, you leaned against the frame with your arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile. “Don’t get too proud Yoon Jeonghan. I let you have the better hair,” you teased.

“Of course dear” your husband chuckled.

Jiwoo, who was completely focused on her work, began brushing his hair with exaggerated care. “You have to be very still Daddy! I don’t want to mess up.”

Jeonghan straightened up his posture. “Not moving an inch,” he promised.

She nodded in approval and got to work. She hummed softly as she created a long, wobbly braid, occasionally stopping to add a colourful clip here and there.

You on the other hand covered your mouth to stifle a laugh as your daughter sprinkled in pink and purple ribbons, tying them into small bows at random spots.

After several minutes, Jiwoo finally clapped her hands. “All done!” She reached for a small mirror from her vanity and handed it to her father. “Look Daddy!”

Jeonghan held up the mirror and burst out laughing. His hair was an absolute masterpiece of uneven braids, mismatched ribbons, and bright butterfly clips.

“Well?” Jiwoo asked eagerly.

“I love it! Thank you sweetheart” Jeonghan smiled warmly.

JOSHUA

Joshua had been through his fair share of tantrums. Having a toddler meant that outbursts were a normal part of life. But today’s meltdown? This was on a whole new level.

He held Byul in his arms as she screamed, her little face red and wet with tears. The two-year-old kicked and squirmed as she tried to escape his grip. Her loud wails were practically echoing through the entire grocery store. It was the kind of tantrum that made people stop and stare. The kind that turned heads and made strangers mutter under their breath.

You on the other hand walked a few steps ahead, pushing the shopping trolley. Your face was carefully neutral, but Joshua could tell that the stares you were getting were bothering you. You exhaled softly and glanced at him. “She’s really going for it today,” you murmured.

“Oh, you think?” Joshua muttered, adjusting his grip as Byul twisted again, nearly knocking his baseball cap off. “She wanted the chocolate chip cookies, I said no, and now we’re here.”

You sighed while grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf. “People are staring.”

Joshua didn’t need to look around to know that was true. He could feel the eyes on him — annoyed glances from shoppers who just wanted to get through their day without a screaming child in the background. An older woman shook her head disapprovingly as she passed by, and a man near the dairy section shot Joshua a look that practically said, ‘Control your kid’.

Joshua tightened his hold on Byul as he bounced her slightly. “Bubba, please,” he whispered, brushing damp curls away from her flushed face. “I know you’re upset, but we can’t get cookies right now. We’ll have a snack when we get home, okay?”

But Byul wasn’t having it. She threw her head back and let out another ear-piercing wail. Joshua felt the frustration slowly creeping in. He was usually good at keeping his cool, but this was exhausting. He looked at you helplessly. “Any ideas?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, then reached into the trolley. You pulled out a bag of baby carrots and waved it in front of your daughter’s face. “Byul, look. Want some carrots?”

Byul, still sniffling, peeked at the bag and immediately shoved it away with a furious, “NO!”

You shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Joshua sighed. He was sweaty, tired, and feeling the pressure of every judgmental stare that was coming his way. But then, an idea struck him. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth trying.

He turned Byul around in his arms so they were face to face. “Bubba,” he said in a softer, playful tone, “can you take a deep breath with Daddy?”

Byul, still hiccupping from crying, shook her head stubbornly.

Joshua exaggerated a deep breath, making it loud and dramatic. “Biiiiig breath in—” he puffed out his cheeks, “—and whoooooosh, out!” he blew air gently on her face.

Byul blinked. She was still upset, but something about his silly breathing caught her attention. And so he did it again. “Whoooosh!”

Byul let out a tiny giggle between sniffles. “One more?” Joshua grinned. She hesitated, then copied him, taking a tiny, shuddering breath in and blowing out.

The screaming stopped, and both of you were relieved. “You’re a wizard” you smiled, shaking your head.

Joshua chuckled, “nah. Just a dad.”

JUNHUI

Junhui adjusted the straps of his backpack while holding his three-year-old’s hand. Mei clutched her stuffed bunny tightly as her eyes darted around the unfamiliar space. It was her first time on an airplane. More importantly, it was her first trip to China to meet Junhui’s side of the family for the Spring Festival.

“Are you excited to see Grandma and Grandpa?” Junhui asked as he crouched to her level.

Mei nodded hesitantly, and then looked up at you who smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fun, sweetheart. And we get to fly in a big airplane!”

Mei didn’t look so sure about that part.

After checking in and going through security, you finally boarded the plane. Mei sat in the middle, with you by the window and Junhui by the aisle seat.

She fidgeted in her seat with her small legs dangling above the floor. Her nervous energy was apparent as she looked around to take in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Junhui then helped Mei put in her small earplugs, hoping they would soften the unfamiliar sounds. “These will make it nice and quiet,” he promised as he tucked a blanket around her lap.

When the flight attendants finished their safety announcements, the plane rumbled to life.

Despite the earplugs, the deep growl of the engines startled her. She flinched, eyes widening as she looked around in panic. Junhui reached for her hand. “It’s okay darling. That’s just the plane getting ready.”

But Mei didn’t look convinced.

The aircraft began rolling toward the runway, and the motion made her grip her bunny even tighter. Then the speed picked up — faster, faster — until suddenly, the nose lifted, and you were taking off.

The three-year-old felt her heart drop at the unfamiliar motion, and soon panic set in. She let out a whimper as her face scrunched up. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then — she bursted into sobs.

Junhui’s heart clenched. He hated seeing her scared. Ignoring the glances from other passengers, he unbuckled his seatbelt just enough to lean closer.

“Mei, it’s okay,” he said gently while rubbing her back. “Daddy’s right here.”

“I don’t like it!” she wailed as her little hands gripped your shirt tightly. “I want to go home!”

You pressed a kiss to her head. “Shh, baby, we’re safe. The plane is just going up in the sky, like a bird.”

Mei sniffled but still whimpered. Her tiny body trembled as she cried while gripping her bunny like a lifeline.

Junhui hated seeing her in distress. So he thought for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small red envelope. “Hey, Mei, look what I have.”

Her sobs slowed just enough for her to look at it.

“This is a hóngbāo from Grandpa,” he said, opening it just enough to show the shiny coin inside. “He sent it early for you. And guess what? He can’t wait to give you more when we get there.”

Mei sniffled, eyes still watery but now distracted.

You wiped your daughter’s tears gently. “And when we land, we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa, and there will be lanterns, fireworks, and lots of yummy dumplings.”

Mei hesitated, then clutched the red envelope along with her bunny. “Dumplings?”

“Lots of them” Junhui grinned.

The plane soon steadied in the air, and the worst of the takeoff behind was now over. Mei’s sobs faded into sniffles as she leaned sleepily against her father’s arm.

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so scary after all.

SOONYOUNG

The music stopped. The cheers faded. And the winner was announced.

But it wasn’t him.

Soonyoung sat backstage, slumped against the wall with his arms resting on his knees and his head hanging low. Sweat dripped from his tired face, while his tank top was soaked through from the hours of dancing under the bright stage lights.

His chest ached, but not from exhaustion. This pain ran deeper. Months of practice, of pushing his body to the limit, of dreaming of victory…all for nothing.

He clenched his fists, his breathing shaky. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if he lost, and that the experience alone was enough. But now, sitting here alone in the dim backstage area while the winner celebrated, he felt like a failure.

A choked sob escaped his lips. He buried his face in his hands, and his body trembled as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

“Daddy?”

Soonyoung felt his breath hitch. He looked up with his tear-blurred vision.

There he saw his five-year-old daughter, Arin, standing a few steps away with her small hands clutching the hem of her pink dress. Her big brown eyes were filled with worry. Behind her stood you with a sad smile as you let your daughter go ahead.

Arin took a cautious step forward. “Daddy…are you sad?” she asked.

Soonyoung swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice. “Yes baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Daddy lost.”

Arin frowned, then quietly sat in front of him, folding her legs. She reached out her tiny hands and placed them gently over his own. “It’s okay Daddy.”

Soonyoung let out a shaky breath as fresh tears spilled over. He tried to hold it together, but with his little girl sitting there, looking at him with so much love and concern, the dam broke. He sobbed openly and pulled her into his arms.

Arin wrapped her small arms around his neck, patting his back the way he always did when she cried. “Don’t be sad Daddy,” she said softly. “You’re still the best dancer in the world.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders shook as he held her tighter. “Oh, baby…”

Arin pulled back slightly and cupped his tear-streaked cheeks in her tiny hands. “You dance so cool Daddy. Even cooler than the people on TV!”

You knelt beside them and rubbed your husband’s back. “She’s right, you know,” you murmured. “You worked so hard, and no trophy can change that.”

Soonyoung let out a weak chuckle through his tears, and looked into his daughter’s hopeful eyes. He wiped his face and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, my baby.”

“Can we dance when we get home?” Arin grinned.

Soonyoung exhaled, and a genuine smile finally broke through his sadness. He nodded. “Yeah. We can dance as much as you want.”

And at that moment, the loss didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because to his little girl, he would always be a champion.

WONWOO

Wonwoo loved the beach in theory. The soft sand beneath his feet, the salty breeze that tousled his hair, the crashing of the waves — it was beautiful, and peaceful. But the ocean itself? That was different. Ever since he was a child, he had feared the water. A near-drowning incident during his childhood left a scar in his mind, one that never fully faded.

Still, he wouldn’t let his past keep him from making memories with his family. You were laying out your small picnic on a checkered blanket while humming a tune as you arranged the sandwiches and fruit.

Your five-year-old daughter, Yoonji, was giggling as she played near the shore with her bright pink floaty bobbing in the gentle waves. Wonwoo was distracted by your laughter and the task at hand that he unintentionally forgot to keep a close eye on Yoonji.

When the food was ready, he stood and dusted the sand off his hands. “Yoonie! Come eat!” he called, but there was no response. His heart began to race as he turned around, scanning the shoreline.

Then he heard the screaming.

His head snapped toward the water, and his heart nearly stopped. A small figure thrashed in the waves, the familiar floaty drifting farther away from her.

Yoonji.

A terrified scream tore from your throat as you ran towards the sea, but Wonwoo was faster. His body moved before his mind could catch up. Fear gripped at him as he approached the sea. He felt his past fear creeping in, but nothing mattered more than his daughter.

“I’m coming baby!” he frantically exclaimed as he charged into the waves.

The shock of the cold water sent his heart racing as he dove into the sea. For a brief second, the old memories surged back. But then he saw Yoonji’s tiny arms struggling against the waves with her mouth opening and closing as she tried to stay afloat.

His fear vanished. All that remained was the desperate need to reach for his child.

His strokes were fast and uneven, but determined regardless. The salty water splashed into his face and burned his eyes, but he pushed forward. He had to.

Finally, his fingers brushed against Yoonji’s trembling form. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his bare chest.

“I got you, baby. Daddy got you” his voice broke, but his grip was firm.

Yoonji held onto her father as she sobbed against his shoulder. He could feel her tiny body shaking. With every ounce of strength he had left, he swam back. His muscles burned, but he refused to stop.

At last, his feet found the sand. He stumbled but held tight to his daughter. “You’re okay, baby. Daddy is here” his breath was ragged as he carried her onto the shore.

You rushed towards them with tears streaming down your face. You wrapped Yoonji in your arms and pressed frantic kisses to her wet hair.

Wonwoo collapsed onto his knees beside you from exhaustion. But guilt soon overwhelmed him.

He took his eyes off her. He let this happen.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered with a hoarse voice.

“You saved her” you reassured him.

Yoonji sniffled as her small hands clutched his arm. “I was scared.” Wonwoo swallowed hard and pulled her close. “Me too baby.”

As he sat there, holding his daughter in his arms, he realised something. He feared the ocean all his life, but nothing had ever terrified him more than the thought of losing his daughter.

JIHOON

Jihoon sat hunched over his keyboard with headphones covering his ears. He was working on a track for another but k-pop group amongst his long list of requests. He adjusted the bassline and nodded slightly as he felt the groove settle in. He was close, but not quite there yet.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Jihoon from his focus. He barely had time to react before the door opened, revealing two of his favorite people in the world.

“Daddy!”

A high-pitched squeal filled the room as his six-year-old daughter, Nari, dashed towards him with her small feet pattering against the floor. Jihoon turned in his chair and pulled off his glasses as a wide smile stretched across his tired face.

“Come here my princess,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

He chuckled as Nari wasted no time leaping onto his lap and wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He felt the warmth of her hug melt away the heavy exhaustion of the day.

“I missed you Daddy,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Jihoon pouted in guilt. He had been working late for weeks now, buried in projects and fine-tuning beats until the early hours of the morning. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of strawberries from her shampoo.

“I’m sorry princess. Daddy’s been really busy.”

You walked in with a soft smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss on your husband’s lips. “You should take a break love,” you whispered.

Jihoon exhaled. He knew you were right. But before he could argue, Nari gasped and wiggled out of his grasp. “Daddy! Can I play the piano?” she asked with her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Jihoon chuckled. “Of course princess. Show me what you got.”

Nari scrambled off his lap and ran to the sleek black piano sitting in the corner of the studio. You and Jihoon followed, taking a seat beside your daughter as she placed her small fingers on the keys.

With absolute focus, Nari pressed the keys one by one as she attempted to play a tune she heard him compose before. The notes weren’t perfect — some were offbeat, others hesitant — but she was determined. Jihoon exchanged a knowing glance with you before both bursted into soft giggles at your daughter’s intense concentration.

“You almost got it baby,” Jihoon encouraged and guided her tiny fingers to the right keys.

She pouted slightly, frustrated with herself, but tried again. And again. Jihoon’s heart swelled with pride. He loved that she shared his passion for music, even if right now, it was just for fun.

After a while, Nari suddenly turned to him with her best pleading expression. “Daddy, can we go home now? Let’s have s’mores and watch a movie together! Please?”

Jihoon hesitated and glanced back at his computer screen. He had so much work left to do. The deadline aside, Jihoon was a perfectionist. It was why he spent so much extra time in the studio to make sure the tracks he produced were top quality.

But then he looked at his daughter’s hopeful eyes as her small hands tugged at his sleeve.

Work could wait.

Jihoon sighed, then grinned as he scooped Nari into his arms. “Alright, alright. You win princess.”

Nari cheered in victory, and you laughed shaking your head.

As you all left the studio together, Jihoon knew he had made the right choice. Music was his passion, but his family was his heart. And in the end, no melody in the world could ever compare to the sound of his daughter’s laughter.

SEOKMIN

The park was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You and Seokmin walked along the park path with your fingers intertwined as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments he wished could last forever.

Ahead of you was your four-year-old daughter, Hana, skipping happily with an oversized ice cream cone in her small hands. She was talking a mile a minute about her day at kindergarten, barely pausing for breath between licks.

“And then, Miss Kim said my drawing was really pretty, and I got a gold star!” Hana announced proudly.

“That’s amazing sweetie. What did you draw?” you smiled.

“A rainbow! With a unicorn! And sparkles!” your daughter exclaimed, turning slightly to flash you both a wide, toothy grin.

“Sounds like a masterpiece” Seokmin laughed.

Hana nodded eagerly and took another bite of her ice cream. Everything felt perfect. The quietness in the park, the warmth of your body against his, your daughter’s innocent laughter — it was a moment he’d tuck away in his heart forever.

But then, in an instant, that peace was ruined.

A man, walking briskly and not paying attention, carelessly bumped into Hana. The impact sent her tiny body stumbling backward. She landed hard on the pavement while her ice cream slipped from her grasp and splattering across the ground.

There was silence for a second before a wail cut through the air.

Seokmin’s stomach dropped as he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside Hana. She was holding onto her arm with tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Hey, Daddy got you, hmm? Are you okay? Let’s check your arm” his voice was gentle, but his hands trembled as he checked her over.

“My arm hurts,” she whimpered as her little body shook. “And my ice cream is gone…”

You knelt beside them and quickly examined Hana’s arm. “I don’t think it’s broken, just a little bruised,” you reassured as you brushed her hair from her face. “You’re so brave sweetheart.”

Seokmin’s jaw clenched as he turned to the man who had knocked into her. The guy — dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans — barely stopped. He looked back briefly but made no move to apologise or help.

And something in Seokmin snapped.He stood up abruptly with his body rigid with anger. “Hey!” he barked with a sharp voice.

The man hesitated, but then scoffed. “Wasn’t my fault, the kid wasn’t watching where she was going.”

Seokmin took a step forward, his fists clenching. “You knocked over my daughter, and that’s all you have to say?”

You, who was still crouched by Hana, snapped your head up. “Seokmin…” you called out to him.

But Seokmin was already stepping closer. He had never been the type to pick fights, but seeing Hana cry and the indifference on this guy’s face — he couldn’t just let it slide.

“You need to apologise,” he growled as his fists itched to do more than just demand words.

The man scoffed again. “Whatever,” he muttered before turning to walk away.

Seokmin took another step forward, but suddenly, a small voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

He turned back and his eyes met Hana’s teary ones. She wasn’t scared of the man — she was scared of him. He shut his eyes and exhaled a deep breath before fluttering them open again.

He walked back over to her and crouched down to her level. He cupped her cheeks and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

Hana sniffled again and looked at her fallen ice cream. “But…my treat…”

“Then let’s go get you another one. How about two scoops this time?” you said.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

You hummed and then turned to your husband, touching his arm gently. “Come on love. She needs you more than he deserves your anger.”

Seokmin took a deep breath, forcing himself to let it go. With one last glare at the man’s retreating figure, he lifted Hana into his arms.

Hana immediately wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and snuggled into him. As you walked back toward the ice cream stand, Seokmin kissed the top of his daughter’s head, holding her close. Some fights weren’t worth it — but protecting his family always would be.

MINGYU

Mingyu stepped out of the shower feeling his body aching from an exhausting day at work. The warm water had helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, but the fatigue was still there weighing heavily upon him. He ran a towel through his damp hair and sighed as he prepared himself for what he hoped would be a quiet evening.

Then he heard it — a sharp, piercing wail resonating through the house. Aera’s cry — tiny yet somehow powerful enough to make his heart stop.

Mingyu didn’t think twice. He dropped the towel and hurried toward the nursery. The moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting in the nursing chair cradling your newborn daughter against your chest. You looked exhausted, and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said over the frantic cries. “She won’t latch…she won’t stop crying…”

Mingyu’s heart ached at the sight of your struggling. He knew how much you wanted to breastfeed, and how much pressure you put on yourself to make it work. But your daughter, barely two weeks old, was inconsolable as her tiny fists flailed, refusing to settle.

Without hesitation, he moved towards. “Let me take her.”

You hesitated, but your shoulders slumped in relief as you gently passed Aera to him. The moment she was in his arms, Mingyu was struck again by just how tiny she was. At six feet-two inches tall, his arms broad and strong, she fit against him like a fragile doll, so impossibly small and delicate.

“Shh, baby girl,” he whispered to her as he held her close. “Daddy’s got you.” his voice was softer than it had ever been.

Her cries didn’t stop immediately. They were still loud, her tiny face scrunched in distress, but Mingyu remained calm. He placed her upright against his bare chest, one large hand supporting her fragile back while the other cradled the back of her head. He began to rock her gently as he paced across the nursery.

The frantic hysteria in her voice soon quieted just a little, turning into tiny whimpers as her small body slowly relaxed against him. Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of baby lotion.

You watched from the chair as tears rolled down your cheeks — not just from exhaustion, but from relief.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you whispered.

Mingyu turned to you while still rocking Aera. “You’re not doing anything wrong love.”

Your lip quivered. “She wouldn’t stop crying…she wouldn’t eat…”

Mingyu walked back over and crouched down so you could see your daughter’s peaceful face as she nuzzled into his chest. “She just needed a minute to feel safe. And she will eat, when she’s ready.”

You exhaled shakily and nodded as you wiped away your tears. Mingyu leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “You’re doing an amazing job,” he assured you. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Aera let out a tiny sigh as her tiny fingers curled against his chest as she finally settled into sleep. Mingyu felt his heart swell. He was overwhelmed by love for the little family you and he had created.

Exhaustion didn’t even matter at that point. Work didn’t matter. All that mattered was this — holding his daughter close, keeping her safe, and making sure you knew you weren’t alone.

He would always be here. For both of you.

MINGHAO

Minghao adjusted his glasses as they slipped down the bridge of his nose. It was a movement so familiar that it became muscle memory. He barely noticed anymore — just a simple push, a brief pause, and then back to the task at hand.

Stacks of student papers sat before him, each marked with his red pen in his neat handwriting. It was late, far later than he intended to stay up. But even as a college professor, he had deadlines. The responsibility was big.

Then, a sound broke the quiet atmosphere. He heard soft cries growing louder as they approached the living room.

Minghao set his pen down and turned just as you entered. Your face was lined with exhaustion, your eyes glassy with worry. In your arms, your one-year-old daughter, Daiyu, whimpered pitifully as her tiny face scrunched in distress.

“I think she has a fever,” you murmured as you shifted Daiyu in your arms.

Minghao’s heart clenched at the sight of his little girl’s flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Without hesitation, he stood up and reached for her. And with gentle but firm hands, he took her from your arms.

Daiyu squirmed. He felt her warm body radiating heat against his chest. She was clearly burning up. He rocked her gently and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.

“Shh, bǎo bèi,” he whispered. “Daddy’s here.”

You hovered close while rubbing your arms as though you were cold. But your worry was visible. “What should we do?”

“Let’s check her temperature first.”

Carrying Daiyu, he walked towards the medicine cabinet and grabbed the thermometer with one hand while balancing her with the other. He placed it under her arm and murmured soft reassurances as she fussed. A few seconds later, the reading confirmed what he was already worried about.

“She’s definitely running a fever,” he said as he kept his voice steady, though his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

You bit your lip as your hands twisted together. “Should we call the doctor?” you asked.

“Not yet,” Minghao said gently. “Let’s give her some medicine first and see if it helps.”

He carefully measured out the correct dose of infant fever reducer and gently encouraged Daiyu to swallow it while whispering soothing words. Despite her little whimper, she leaned against his chest and gripped his shirt with her small fingers.

He resumed pacing around the house while rocking her in his arms. His professor’s mind was now entirely focused on his daughter. The academic world, the papers waiting for his attention — none of it mattered right now.

You sat on the sofa watching them with a soft expression. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you saw how gently Minghao held your daughter.

For nearly an hour, he walked, whispering lullabies, stroking her back, feeling her tiny breaths against his neck. Slowly, the fever medicine began to work, and Daiyu’d cries quieted. Her body relaxed against him as her breathing evened out.

Finally, when he was sure she was fully asleep, he carefully laid her in her cot. He stood there for a moment and watched her to make sure she was truly resting.

You stepped beside him and leaned into his side. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Minghao sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “She’s our baby. I’d do anything for her.”

As he looked down at your sleeping daughter, peaceful at last, he knew he’d stay up all night if he had to — because some things were far more important than grading papers.

SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the sofa after putting the laundry in the dryer. He knew you would appreciate coming home to clean clothes instead of another argument about his procrastination. You worked long hours, and the last thing he wanted was to hear you yelling about unfinished chores.

Just as he was about to close his eyes for a well-earned break, a small voice interrupted him.

“Daddy?”

Seungkwan opened one eye to see his five-year-old daughter, Yuna, standing beside him with an eager grin. “Yes darling?”

“Can I put makeup on you?” she asked.

Seungkwan frowned. “Makeup? But Yuna, you don’t have any makeup.”

“I’ll use Mummy’s!” she giggled mischievously.

Seungkwan sat up straighter. “Uh…I don’t think Mummy would like that,” he said carefully. “She doesn’t like anyone touching her stuff.”

“Please Daddy?” Yuna pleaded with her big eyes shimmering with hope. She clasped her little hands together and tilted her head like a puppy begging for a treat.

Seungkwan hesitated. The idea of having his face covered in lipstick and eyeshadow wasn’t exactly appealing. But how could he say no to that face?

“Alright,” he finally relented with a sigh. “But! Mummy can’t know, okay? It’s our little secret.”

Yuna squealed in delight and grabbed his hand before dragging him upstairs to the bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and rummaged through your emergency makeup bag with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. Seungkwan at patiently, already regretting this decision.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with giggles and concentration as she dabbed powder onto his cheeks, swiped red lipstick across his lips (some of it ending up on his chin), and painted his eyelids with an uneven mix of shimmering pink and purple.

Seungkwan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly laughed out loud. He looked ridiculous. But when he saw Yuna’s face beaming with joy, he didn’t care.

“You look so pretty Daddy!” she said proudly.

Before Seungkwan could respond, the sound of the front door opening made his stomach drop. You were home.

“Quick! Clean up!” his eyes widened.

But it was too late. The footsteps got closer, followed by your voice. “Yuna? Kwanie?”

The bedroom door swung open, and there you stood.

Your gaze swept over the scene before you — the makeup scattered across the bed, your daughter holding a mascara wand like a paintbrush, and your husband sitting there with his face covered in a colorful mess.

Your eyes widened in shock, “my makeup!” you shrieked.

Yuna flinched at your tone, but Seungkwan quickly spoke up. “Honey, I—”

“You let her use my expensive makeup for this?!” you interrupted.

But then, as you stared at them, something shifted. You saw the way Yuna giggled with her little hands covered in powder. You saw Seungkwan looking utterly ridiculous but grinning as your daughter beamed with happiness.

And just like that, your frustration melted away.

Seungkwan gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll buy you new ones, I promise” he told you.

He then glanced at Yuna, who was now giggling uncontrollably. “But…look how happy she is.”

You let out a deep breath. Then, against your better judgment, you laughed. “You’re lucky she’s cute,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, do you want Yuna to do your makeup next?” your husband grinned.

“Yes! Mummy, can I do your makeup next?” Yuna jumped up.

“Not a chance” you deadpanned.

HANSOL

Hansol sat at his tiny desk typing away on his laptop with one hand while the other cradled his six-month-old daughter Nabi against his chest. She was so warm and peaceful in his arms. Her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his grey hoodie as he gently rocked her with his knee.

He was exhausted, but exhaustion had become second nature by now. Between his final year of university and fatherhood, sleep was a luxury. His dissertation deadline was in two weeks, and with every keystroke, he fought against time. He was determined to finish strong, if not for himself, then for you and his daughter.

Nabi wasn’t exactly planned to begin with. When you found out that you were pregnant, it hit him hard. Both of you were scared. Hansol remembered sitting on your dorm room bed with his hands gripping his hair while you cried softly beside him. Neither of you had an idea how you were going to manage university and a baby. It felt impossible.

But that was until Nabi was born.

Hansol wasn’t the type to cry easily, but when the nurse placed her in his arms for the first time, he broke completely. She weighed like a feather, so small and fragile, and yet the weight of her in his arms felt heavy.

Every doubt, every fear, melted away in that moment. He made a silent vow to her that he would do anything to protect her and give her the life she deserved.

It wasn’t easy. Balancing classes, assignments, and sleepless nights with a newborn pushed you both to your limits. But he and you faced every challenge together. You leaned on each other when things got overwhelming.

And tonight was no different.

Hansol adjusted Nabi slightly to make sure she was comfortable, and kept typing. His dissertation deadline was fast approaching, and he still had a long way to go. He tried to focus, but the warmth of Nabi against him and the rhythmic sound of her breathing made it hard not to get distracted.

And then, without warning, Nabi stirred. She let out a tiny gurgle before she vomited all over him.

Hansol body froze.

The warmth of the spit-up seeped through his hoodie and onto his chest. His eyes widened in horror as he realised some of it had also landed on his dissertation papers.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he pushed his chair back abruptly. He carefully lifted Nabi away from the mess, wrinkling his nose.

“Babe! I need backup!”

A moment later, you appeared in the doorway with your own tired eyes widening as you took in the scene. Hansol, covered in baby vomit, Nabi blinking innocently in his arms, and his once-pristine papers now splattered with milk.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped. “You look like you just lost a fight,” you teased.

“Yeah, and she didn’t even have to try,” your boyfriend muttered, trying to wipe himself down while keeping Nabi steady.

“Can you grab me a towel? And maybe some clean paper while you’re at it?”

Still giggling, you disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth. You wiped Nabi’s mouth first before handing Hansol another towel.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” you mused.

Hansol looked down at Nabi, who was now grinning up at him, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused. He couldn’t help but smile back, shaking his head.

“She’s worth it,” he said simply.

“Aren’t you princess?” he looked down at his daughter with a smile before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Nabi giggled as she reached her arms up to grab his face.

You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yeah,” you murmured, “she really is.”

Life wasn’t perfect. It was messy, exhausting, and full of unexpected surprises. But as Hansol looked at his daughter and the love of his life, he knew one thing for sure — he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

CHAN

Chan stepped out of his car and stretched his arms as he took a deep breath of the cool night air. It had been a while since he went out with the boys, and though he enjoyed the break, he was eager to be home. The comfort of his wife and daughter was where he truly belonged.

But the moment he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong.

The house was in chaos. There were pillows thrown from the sofa, toys scattered everywhere, and a sippy cup knocked over, juice pooling on the coffee table. Then he heard his four-year-old daughter, Dahyun, crying and screaming loudly.

Chan’s stomach tightened as he hurried towards the living room.

When he walked in seeing you holding Dahyun by her arms and guiding her down onto her bottom with an exhausted but sharp glare.

“Sit on your bottom, now,” you ordered, your voice raised and filled with frustration. “You do NOT throw toys across the room like that when you’re told no. That made Mummy very sad!”

Dahyun froze, startled by your angry tone. Her big, tear-filled eyes locked onto your face as her little chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The room was silent just for a second, and Chan saw the confusion in his daughter’s expression. Then, she bursted into loud, uncontrollable sobs with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Chen’s frown deepened. His heart squeezed painfully watching her wail with her tiny hands gripping her pyjama shirt as she hiccupped between cries.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

You let out a long, tired sigh as you rubbed your temple. Dark circles under your eyes showed just how drained you were. “She threw her toy at me when I told her she couldn’t have another custard tart,” you explained softly but still frustrated.

“It nearly hit me Chan. I can’t let her think that’s okay. She needs to learn.”

Chan nodded understandingly. You were home with Dahyun all day managing her tantrums, her tireless energy, and her stubbornness. He knew how exhausting it was. He also knew that you weren’t usually this harsh. You were just at your limit.

Still, the way Dahyun was crying, the way her little body shook on the floor, made his chest ache unbearably.

“Don’t comfort her yet,” you added quickly, sensing his thoughts. “She needs to understand that what she did was wrong.”

Chan hesitated as his gaze shifted between you and your daughter. You weren’t wrong — Dahyun needed to learn boundaries. But the way she was sobbing and struggling to breathe between her cries made it impossible for him to stand by and do nothing.

He couldn’t.

Ignoring your warning, he stepped forward and knelt down before scooping Dahyun into his arms. She held onto him immediately with her little fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as she buried her wet face into his neck.

“Shh, my baby, calm down” Chan whispered as he rocked her gently.

Dahyun’s cries softened into hiccups as he rubbed her back in slow circles. He pressed gentle kisses to her tear-streaked cheeks while murmuring soothing words as he held her close.

You sighed as you leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. “Chan..”

“I know,” he said before you could finish. He knew discipline was important. He knew Dahyun had to learn that throwing things in anger wasn’t okay. But he also knew she was only four and was still learning how to handle her big emotions. Right now, what she needed more than anything was comfort.

You exhaled as your anger faded into quiet understanding. “It’s just been a long day,” you admitted.

Chan nodded while he adjusted Dahyun as her sniffles finally calmed. “We’ll teach her together,” he promised. “But I can’t just watch her cry like that. I just can’t.”

“I know” you offered a smal, tired smile.

As Dahyun’s small body relaxed against his chest, Chan knew that parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It was about balance. Discipline and love, lessons and comfort. And at the end of the day, no matter how difficult things got, love would always come first.

a/n; comment your favourite!

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