#it's become one of the most precious things in the world to me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fozmeadows · 2 months ago

Text

there is no ethical consumption under capitalism

Years ago now, I remember seeing the rape prevention advice so frequently given to young women - things like dressing sensibly, not going out late, never being alone, always watching your drink - reframed as meaning, essentially, "make sure he rapes the other girl." This struck a powerful chord with me, because it cuts right to the heart of the matter: that telling someone how to lower their own chances of victimhood doesn't stop perpetrators from existing. Instead, it treats the existence of perpetrators as a foregone conclusion, such that the only thing anyone can do is try, by their own actions, to be a less appealing or more difficult victim.

And the thing is, ever since the assassination of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson, I've kept on thinking about how, in this day and age, CEOs of big companies often have an equal or greater impact on the day to day lives of regular people than our elected officials, and yet we have almost no legal way to redress any grievances against them - even when their actions, as in the case of Thompson's stewardship of UHC, arguably see them perpetrating manslaughter at scale through tactics like claims denial. That this is a real, recurring thing that happens makes the American healthcare insurance industry a particularly pernicious example, but it's far from being the only one. Because the original premise of the free market - the idea that we effectively "vote" for or against businesses with our dollars, thereby causing them to sink or swim on their individual merits - is utterly broken, and has been for decades, assuming it was ever true at all. In this age of megacorporations and global supply chains, the vast majority of people are dependent on corporations for necessities such as gas, electricity, internet access, water, food, housing and medical care, which means the consumer base is, to all intents and purposes, a captive market. We might not have to buy a specific brand, but we have to buy a brand, and as businesses are constantly competing with one another to bring in profits, not just for the company and its workers, but for C-suites and shareholders - profits that increasingly come at the expense of workers and consumers alike - the greediest, most inhumane corporations set the financial yardstick against which all others are then, of necessity, measured. Which means that, while businesses are not obliged to be greedy and inhumane in order to exist, overwhelmingly, they become greedy and humane in order to compete, because capitalism encourages it, and because there are precious few legal restrictions to stop them from doing so. At the same time, a handful of megacorporations own so many market-dominating brands that, without both significant personal wealth and the time and resources to find viable alternatives, it's all but impossible to avoid them, while the ubiquity of the global supply chain means that, even if you can keep track of which company owns which brand, it's much, much harder to establish which suppliers provide the components that are used in the products bearing their labels. Consider, for instance, how many mainstream American brands are functionally run on sweatshop labour in other parts of the world: places where these big corporations have outsourced their workforce to skirt the already minimal labour and wage protections they'd be obliged to adhere to in the US, all to produce (say) electronics whose elevated sticker price passes a profit on to the company, but without resulting in higher wages for either the sweatshop workers overseas or the American employees selling the products in branded US stores.

When basically every major electronics corporation is engaged in similar business practices, there is no "vote" our money can bring that causes the industry itself to be better regulated - and as wealthy, powerful lobbyists from these industries continue to pay exorbitant sums of money to politicians to keep government regulation at a minimum, even our actual votes can do little to effect any sort of change. But even in those rare instances where new regulations are passed, for multinational corporations, laws passed in one country overwhelmingly don't prevent them from acting abusively overseas, exploiting more desperate populations and cash-poor governments to the same greedy, inhumane ends. And where the ultimate legal penalty for proven transgressions is, more often than not, a fine - which is to say, a fee; which is to say, an amount which, while astronomical by the standards of regular people, still frequently costs the company less than the profits earned through their unethical practices, and which is paid from corporate coffers rather than the bank accounts of the CEOs who made the decisions - big corporations are, in essence, free to act as badly as they can afford to; which is to say, very. Contrary to the promise of the free market, therefore, we as consumers cannot meaningfully "vote" with our dollars in a way that causes "good" businesses to rise to the top, because everything is too interconnected. Our choices under global capitalism are meaningless, because there is no other system we can financially support that stands in opposition to it, and while there are still small businesses and companies who try to operate ethically, both their comparative smallness and their interdependent reliance on the global supply chain means that, even if we feel better about our choices, we're not exerting any meaningful pressure on the system we're trying to change. Which means that, under the free market, trying to be an ethical consumer is functionally equivalent to a young woman dressing modestly, not going out alone and minding her drink at parties in order to avoid being raped. We're not preventing corporate predation or sending a message to corporate predators: we're just making sure they screw other worker, the other consumer, the other guy.

All of which is to say: while I'd prefer not to live in a world where shooting someone dead in the street is considered a valid means of redressing grievances, what the murder of Brian Thompson has shown is that, if you provide no meaningful recourse for justice against abusive, exploitative members of the 1%, then violence done to those people will have the feel of justice, because it fills the void left by the lack of consequences for their actions. It's the same reason why people had little sympathy for the jackass OceanGate CEO who killed himself in his imploding sub, or anyone whose yacht has been attacked by orcas - it's just intensified here, because where the OceanGate CEO was felled by hubris and the yachts were random casualties, whoever killed Thomspon did so deliberately, because of what he did. It was direct action against a man whose policies very arguably constituted manslaughter at scale; a crime which ought to be a crime, but which has, to date, been permitted under the law. And if the law wouldn't stop him, can anyone be surprised that someone might act outside the law in retaliation - or that regular people would cheer for them when they did?

#UHC #capitalism #brian thompson #luigi mangione #deny defend depose #late stage capitalism

3K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 5 months ago

Text

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome

♡ FEM reader

“I’m back,” he calls out softly once opening the door.

You’re already there—must have heard him drive up then padded over—standing there, wordlessly awaiting his kiss. You don’t notice it yourself, though he does, how you get up on your tippy-toes and meet him halfway. You’ve been doing it for a while now. It’s really cute. And so he doesn’t say anything on it—doesn’t want to spook the habit.

“Welcome home,” you say, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you soft and snugly against his chest—smiling at how you nuzzle into it—yet another cute thing you’ve started doing lately.

“Mh-thank you, sweetheart—feels good,” he coos into your hair, petting it smoothly while you stand there, neither of you pulling away. “What did you do today?”

You sigh and sink further into his embrace, mumbling, “Same as any other day…” almost sulkily. “Just waiting for you.”

He chuckles, “Oh, that’s not true. I saw you watching something—anything fun?”

You hum, hiding your face in his chest, mumbling into it, “Not really… just binging another franchise they decided to ruin...” You shift and look up at him, keeping your chin on his chest while grumbling, “I don’t understand why they’d reboot something just to completely disregard everything it originally stood for—and all the effects just make it look cheap.”

He can’t help but chuckle again, ruffling your hair with a fond smile. “You’re such a nerd.” He could eat you up the way you are right now, plated on a silver platter for him all so willingly. “A cute nerd, though.”

You pout, “Honestly, what’s going on out there? I barely understand anything I’m watching anymore—it’s all alien to me.”

His hug on you tightens, but you don’t flinch like you used to—even as the look in his eyes darkens along with his words. “Yeah, the world’s gone mad. You’re better off in here.”

You smile then—agreeing for once. It’s also a new and adorable habit. And then you unzip his jacket for him, helping it off his shoulders and hanging it up for him—all so naturally. Looking back at him while asking, “And how was your day?”

He smiles while beholding you—to think such a question would ever leave your lips all so domestically—it’s enough to make his chest swell. Then with an exaggerated sigh, he whines, “Absolutely horrible without you,” wrapping you up in another hug, this time from behind, nuzzling his chin into the ticklish skin of your neck—making you giggle. Arms around your front, swaying you back against him. “Every second, I was counting down ‘til when I could come home to you.”

“Is that right?” You grin at his gesture—twisting around so that you could look at him straight. Slouched as he stood, all but draping you with his taller form—eyes leveled with yours, half-mast and adoringly admiring you like his most precious thing—his sweet loving girlfriend.

You cup his face in both hands, thinking the same of him—your sweet loving boyfriend. You’re about to kiss him, but then, struck by the thought, there’s a sudden freight in your chest that follows, and you jolt back as if he’d burned you.

He stills, warm expression twisting to one of concern. “Hey—” Stepping after you with his hands laid on your forearms, giving you a small squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” You don’t know, you think. Something’s off. Something’s not right—about his touch, about your heart, about all of it. “I’m just…”

You think about it, eyes skittering over his face—did you always look at his face? Since when did he become so familiar? Since when did you walk around wanting to see it?

“I just…” the words feel all strange in your mouth, but there’s no denying there’s truth in them. “I missed you.”

His features blank at that, blinking at you. “Oh…” Then he softens—smiles with a chuckle, “Well, I’m home now, so…” His head slants, looking at you in askance as he gently brings a hand up to thumb your chin. “What’s with this pouty face?”

You bite your lip. There’s so much noise in your chest—so many conflicting feelings. You’ve begun missing him when he’s gone—when he leaves you. You’ve started wishing for his return, spending your day in wait. Since when did you start doing that?

It’s not right.

“I’m slipping,” your voice is shaken and weak, eyes welling up with thick water enough to have him look blurry—you shake your head and squeeze them shut—making the tears fall quickly. “I’m not supposed to miss you—” you cry. “That’s not right. I’m not—you’re not—”

Not your boyfriend.

“Hey, hey, sweetie. It’s okay,” he cuts your sob off with two warm hands placing themselves on your wettened cheeks, holding you tenderly. You layer yours on top of his, feeling it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling into oblivion.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he coos, smearing out your teardrops, making them dry. “It was gonna happen sooner or later, right?”

Your eyes peel and look at him—through the veil. His face is a comfort—though you feel strange seeing it as such, when you know, even though most of you has decided to forget, that he’s a psychotic stalker who’s kidnapped you and held you captive for what must be closing in on a year already.

“Don’t feel bad—it’s only natural,” he assures, pulling you into his chest again—both arms around you snugly with his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you from side to side. “Everything’s fine. So you’re losing your mind a little—we’ll just find something else for you to think about. Right? Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you? More clothes? Sweets? Something fun? Maybe you can take up another hobby?”

He loosens his hold to look down at you—his face warm with devout for you, with a wordless vow saying he’ll do everything, give you anything in return for your happiness.

You love him, you realize then with a shudder.

You’re in love with your crazy captor—your batshit lovesick oversweet captor who shares your bed and treats you like a spoiled pet. And it’s so fucked up—so, so very fucked up, so very fucking fucked up. But it’s true—you’re in love with him. And you have been for a while.

“What do you say?” he asks in hope.

Yet, you can’t say it out loud. No, not yet—it still feels all so wrong. But, at the same time, you don’t think there’s a need for you to put it into words for him. He’s always known you better than you have yourself, after all. And that wholesome smile on his face says it all—he already knows.

“No… I just,” you start, staring into his eyes—those full-loving eyes that look at you as if you’re the only thing of value in the whole entire world. “I just want…” It’s a scary confession—both admitting it to yourself and him. “You.”

You look down, curling your fingers into his shirt.

“I don’t need anything else.”

It’s the truth and nothing but the truth—albeit a somewhat sad truth. It’s your one wish—your only wish. You just want him—to stay, to hold you, to kiss you. You can’t even think of wanting anything else anymore.

“Oh, well, that’s easy, isn’t it?” he says, stroking your cheeks, fishing for your shy gaze—smiling once hooking it—pretty teary puppy eyes, lost and looking for directions.

Don’t worry—he’s here to help.

“Where do you want me then, sweetheart?” His lips near your forehead. “Here?” He gives it a chaste kiss, earning your sniffle, then ducks down to your neck. “Or here, maybe?” Giving that a kiss as well, this time with more behind it, sucking the skin with a soft bite.

“Or maybe…” His voice is low, and it makes your skin buzz with a desire just as dark—shivering with it as his lips ghost yours. “Here?”

You hang in his hold, leaning after it.

But he just smiles, “Tell me, sweetheart—where do you want me?”

Your lip wobbles, brows cinched as your balled fists needily pull him close—yearning for it.

“Everywhere.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi ♡ HxH – Chrollo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

6K notes · View notes

cryinggirlnamedhelen · 2 months ago

Text

the small bundle covered in blankets felt heavy in kaiser’s hands. kaiser was by no means weak in; but when the previously crying baby was coaxed by your exhausted voice to sleep, millions of doubts weighed down on kaiser—even heavier than the weight of his father’s hands on kaiser’s neck when he was a child.

“i think she’s fond of you. she must have heard those conversations you had with her when she was still in my stomach.”

your small, almost inaudible voice brought your husband out of his trance. the soft blonde hair peeking out of the pale blue beanie—the hair most definitely being inherited from kaiser—were like golden rays of sun. kaiser looked down at you, sitting down on the bed you were currently lying down. kaiser moved his gaze to his daughter, who slept peacefully.

“i don’t know,” he swallowed, a tattooed hand gently caressing his daughter’s cheek. “am i…really cut out to be a father? what if i become just like him? what if i accidentally hurt her just like that piece of scum did with me? what if she hates me? what if—“

your eyes soften, remembering the days in your childhood with kaiser, when he was always playing with the stray dogs while soot and bruises, and sometimes even blood, ornamented his body. you’ll never forget the days when you were both 14, when he finally told you; his father’s treatment of him, his father’s constant drinking, how his mother left him, and how his goal was just…to be loved.

and that’s when you realized: he had no home—no an emotional one, at least. a boy who was never taught manners or how to survive or how to properly speak, a boy who was never taught what was good for him and what was bad for him. and he never even went to school either until bastard münchen taught classes.

you reached forward to reach his hand, kaiser once against moving his glance to you. “michael, you won’t. i know you won’t. you’re not him, michael. you’re you. and unlike when you were growing up, i won’t leave you or our daughter. ever.” you brought his tattooed hand up to your lips. “it’ll be hard, but im sure it will all turn out okay, michael.”

and suddenly kaiser feels a sting, tears beginning to pool at the brim of his eyes as his chest tightens. damn it, he didn’t even cry during your delivery…but when the two most important women—no, people, in his life are right in front of him, one of them looking at him like he’s the most precious treasure in the world, how could he not be vulnerable?

kaiser takes your hands and placed it on his chest—right where his heart is. he runs his thumb over the cool surface of your wedding ring on your finger, his daughter seemingly beginning to wake up, though still quiet.

“thank you for being in my life. i love you.”

———

to anyone who says “ooc” “kaiser would never do this” etc,

lemme just remind you that kaiser has stated MULTIPLE TIMES throughout the bastard münchen vs PXG match that his goal was just to be loved. another thing is that in kaiser’s official character profile (from the egoist bible), his type is described as “someone who’s beautiful, smart, and full of love”

(if anyone says “omg ness is literally his type” in the comments then im actually going to scream because i hate kainess with a passion. it’s so toxic and kaiser literally sees ness as a dog and ness’ so-called “feelings” for kaiser is just a result of manipulation. plus, ness doesn’t actually match kaiser’s type. ness is smart, yes, but ness has never been stated to be good looking in any way shape or form. in fact, judging from ness’ backstory, he might even be canonically ugly. plus, ness doesn’t ACTUALLY love kaiser. again, it’s just “feelings” that began to form from manipulation.)

2K notes · View notes

satori-runa · 2 months ago

Text

—My favourite type

Summary: Mr Crawling learns about kisses and gets used to their different meanings.

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, romance

Words: 0,9k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mr. Crawling doesn’t fully understand human affection, but he’s managed to grasp one thing: you like to press your lips against his cold ones.

It confused him at first—and perhaps it still does—but if it makes you happy, he’s content to let you continue. In fact, he’s come to appreciate every kiss and has even learned to mimic the gesture, giving you kisses in return.

Kisses on the cheek, for example. They’re quick and fleeting, yet they leave a warmth he cherishes deeply. Afterward, he’ll often refuse to wash his face, touching his cheek repeatedly as if to hold onto the sensation. You usually kiss him on the cheek when you’re leaving for school or work, and to him, it’s like an unspoken promise that you’ll always return.

When you kiss his forehead, he takes it as a gesture of apology or reassurance. It’s your way of silently telling him that everything will be okay. These kisses are reserved for moments when he feels down, and he loves the way you stroke his hair before pressing your lips gently against his forehead. It soothes him in ways words never could.

Then there are the kisses on his hands—quick, yet deeply meaningful. His hands are rough and scarred from crawling, but you don’t seem to mind. You kiss them while cuddling, as if to silently say you love and accept every part of him. It makes him giggle softly, a sound that’s both rare and endearing.

Kisses on the lips are still the most mysterious to Mr. Crawling. He doesn’t quite understand the meaning behind them, but he knows how much they mean to you. The first time you kissed him, he froze, unsure of how to react. His lips, perpetually cold, didn’t seem like they would bring you any comfort, yet you smiled so warmly afterward that he couldn’t find it in himself to question it.

Over time, he began to enjoy these moments, even if he didn’t fully comprehend them. Your kisses on the lips are slow and tender, carrying emotions he can’t put into words. They make him feel connected to you in a way that’s both thrilling and unfamiliar. Sometimes, he even leans in first, mimicking your gestures as best as he can, pressing his lips against yours in his own awkward but endearing way.

He’s noticed how these kisses make your eyes soften and how they often end with your laughter or a whispered confession of love. While the meaning behind them may remain a mystery to him, the happiness they bring you is enough for Mr. Crawling to adore them. They’ve become a part of his world, a small but precious ritual he wouldn’t trade for anything.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the dim lamp casting a warm glow over the space. Mr. Crawling sat beside you, his posture stiff but his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent heat creeping up your neck. He had always been awkward when it came to intimacy, unsure of what to do or how to navigate the nuances of affection, but tonight, something felt different.

“You’re staring,” you teased softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“You pretty.” he replied, his tone as measured as ever, though the faintest flicker of something—curiosity? longing?—danced in facial expression.

Leaning in, you cupped his face gently, your thumb brushing over the cool, smooth planes of his cheek. “Do you trust me?”

He giggled, the movement bubbly but sure, and it was all the permission you needed. Slowly, your lips met his—softly at first, a tentative touch that carried all the patience in the world. His breath hitched, and you felt the slightest tremor run through him, a clear sign of his inexperience, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he leaned into you, his hands eagerly finding their way to your waist. His touch was claiming, almost posessive, as if afraid he won't be able to feel you after pulling away. You deepened the kiss, your lips moving against his with a tenderness that coaxed him to relax, to follow your lead.

When you finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of happiness and confusion, his lips slightly parted as if still processing what had just happened. “Mouth…?” he began, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady.

“That was just the beginning.” you murmured, your fingers trailing down to his collarbone, where you placed another kiss, slow and deliberate. His breath hitched again, and this time, his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer.

You continued, your lips exploring the curve of his neck, the sharp edge of his jawline, and every inch of him that seemed to call out for attention. Each kiss was a silent promise, a wordless declaration of how deeply you cherished him. And though he couldn’t fully articulate it, his responses—soft gasps, trembling hands, the way he tilted his head to give you more access—told you everything you needed to know.

“You warm,” he whispered at one point, his voice barely audible, as if he were afraid speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

“And you’re perfect,” you replied, your words pressed against the cool skin of his neck before your lips found his again. This time, he was the one to lean in first, his movements still hesitant but filled with a quiet determination that made your heart ache with affection.

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #homicipher x reader #homicipher #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #mr. crawling #mr.crawling #homicipher mr crawling #homicipher fanfiction #homicipher x you #mr crawling x you

1K notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 5 months ago

Note

Hey you lovely human :) Just dropped in to say I bumped into blog like yesterday and since then I ATE (almost) everything Gojo related (still have a couple left), like I genuinely am in LOVE with everything. If you are ever willing to take upon this idea, I was curious about how you see Gojo meeting his significant other and falling in love ? Would love to see the beginning of their relationship and how they ended up together. Thank you and since is already weekend here for me almost - i hope you have a gorgeous weekend!! ^^

creepy eyes — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: AHHH THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OMG TYYYYY and i am so sorry that i took so long </3 ANYWAY this is how I imagine gojo first meeting his wife cause i believe that it has to be before gojo closed off and that she became a trusted and close friend of his

it’s just another afternoon at jujutsu high, the sun bathing the grounds in a soft glow, casting long shadows as students hurry from class to class.

you’re deep in thought, focused on training, when you suddenly collide with something solid—or rather, someone.

you stumble back a step, blinking up at the towering figure now standing before you. you glance up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of eyes—bright, intense, and painfully blue.

the boy is about to say something, but you beat him.

“my god, your eyes are creepy,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

there’s a beat of stunned silence.

the giant’s mouth drops open slightly, his eyebrows raise in sheer disbelief as if you’ve just insulted the most precious thing in the world to him.

“my eyes?!” he gasps, hand flying dramatically to his chest. “you think my eyes are creepy?”

you nod, grimacing at the loud sound, “yeah, they're unnerving. kind of like staring into a bottomless pit.”

satoru is scandalized. “my eyes are beautiful!” his voice pitches higher, as if stating a fact that should be universally accepted.

he tilts his head closer to you and taking his glasses off, daring you to look again. “take another look! appreciate them!”

you squint, unimpressed, and simply shrug, brushing past him, “I’ll pass.”

that’s the beginning.

days turn into weeks, and the more you try to forget about that initial encounter, the more satoru won’t let you. every time you cross paths, it’s like he has a personal mission to make you take back that one insult.

whether it’s during training, at lunch, or in the hallway, satoru somehow finds a way to bring it up.

“you still don’t think my eyes are nice?” he asks, exaggeratedly crestfallen, peering at you with that playful gleam.

“yeah, still creepy.”

“but why?” he exclaims, leaning against the doorframe or sitting next to you with a theatrical sigh. “do you not see the sparkle? the beauty? the endless charm?”

it becomes such a regular thing that even suguru can’t help but get involved. he appears at satoru’s side, casually rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics, though a smirk plays on his lips.

“you’re still on about that?” geto quips. “maybe just accept that she has good taste, satoru.”

“oh, shut up, suguru! she’s just blind to my perfection!” satoru retorts, crossing his arms as he watches you chat away with shoko.

and so it goes. satoru’s relentless teasing—half playful, half desperate—starts weaving into the fabric of your days.

every time you think he’ll finally let it go, he’s right there, flashing that expectant grin as if waiting for you to finally give in.

months pass. the seasons start to shift, but satoru's persistence doesn’t.

he keeps bugging you about it—less often than before, but every once in a while, he'll find an opportunity.

whether it's during class or during a mission, he brings it up with that same confident, teasing smile.

it’s a lazy afternoon when it happens.

you’re outside, lounging against a tree in the sun with a book in hand, trying to relax after a mission when satoru flops down beside you, elbow nudging yours.

his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose as he grins at you. “still think they’re creepy?”

you don’t even look up from your book. “yup.”

he leans in, resting his chin on his hand, giving you that pout again. “come on, you’re just being mean at this point.”

you stifle a laugh, flipping a page. “am I?”

satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, “you’re impossible, you know that? these eyes are a national treasure.”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips this time. it makes satoru blink, clearly caught off guard by the sound.

he tilts his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he leans closer to your face. “wait… was that a real laugh? are you finally admitting I’m funny?”

you roll your eyes, looking away from him as you smile. “don’t push your luck.”

he grins widens at the sight of your smile, and he is about to boast of his achievement when you glance at him. with amusement still tugging at your lips, you reach out and push his sunglasses up with a playful tap.

“fine, fine,” you relent, voice teasing as you give him a small grin,“I think your eyes are very pretty.”

for once, satoru’s the one caught off guard.

he blinks rapidly, a flash of surprise flickering across his face as he pulls himself away and tries process your words.

your smile doesn’t falter, but satoru’s eyebrows furrow, before he chirps, standing up, “well—it’s about time you admitted that!”

your eyes widen, as he gets loud and starts ranting about his beauty, “it is only natural that you succumb to my charms! ahaha! my eyes are only one part of it!”

confused but having nothing to say, you lean back against the bark. you don’t mention out loud that his ears are tinted pink, not that satoru would give you the chance to call him out.

but you both know that something has changed.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro @your-sleeparalysisdem0n @dindjarins1ut @candy-s72

do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you

1K notes · View notes

werecreature-addicted · 9 months ago

Note

Someone who starts to become a little worried that with how rough and animalistic their werewolf partner becomes during sex that they're not really themselves or of human intelligence in the moment.

So in the middle of the act they ask their werewolf to "prove that they're still themselves". The werewolf then proceeds to growl out their partners praises, listing every reason they love them and how much the mean to them. With every word causing them to fuck them even harder and more passionately than before; desperate to give their beloved a time of their life they so clearly deserve.

it's not that you don't love having sex with your boyfriend like this- you love the primal way he takes you growling in pleasure in your ear. it's just you aren't sure that it really is your boyfriend. You love the feeling of his claws digging into your skin as he gropes you and pulls you back against his hips as you weakly try to escape his rough thrusts.

"don't run from me I'm not done with you" he snarls his sharp teeth snapping at your shoulder as he rolls his hips pushing his cock deep enough inside you that your thighs tremble, his full knot pressing against your entrance, not quiet pushing inside of you. he doesn't want to cum yet, he's using your pussy to edge himself. the harsh growl of his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

You wonder how much he remembers when he shifts. it always seems to be a bit of a blur when he comes back to his more human side. you reach up and cup his inhuman face as best you can. He presses his face into your hand.

"It's you right?" you ask, huffing a little. he cocks his head to the side a little confused.

"Of course it's me."

"Prove it," you ask. He slows for a moment, still buried deep in your fluttering cunt, he presses his forehead against yours.

"pretty girl, was I too rough with you? do I seem more like a monster than a man right now?" he asks softly, in the softest voice you'd ever heard him use, he hooks one of your legs around his arm and pushes it up to your chest so he can thrust deeper into your much-abused cunt.

"it's me, love, and it's you. god, it's you," he breathes as if you are the most precious thing in the world. "look at you, my pretty thing so perfect for me, love you so much I'm so lucky you're mine, you are mine right? let me hear you say it," he pleads. the soft way that he praises you, the needy way he wants to claim you, this is much more like him, the werewolf that you know and love.

"i'm yours," you say easily, because you are his, mind body, and soul.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster #teratophillia #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend #werewolves

2K notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 5 months ago

Text

to you, my greatest passion (soft yandere! batfam x traumatized! reader oneshot)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: allusions to stockholm syndrome, flawed relationship (they have no concept of boundaries) and mild descriptions of injuries and torture (not by the batfam). read until the end for an author's note. happy 4k followers to me :)) uh leave comments if u like this type of analysis and want to see more. i had no direction for writing this. please don't let this flop huhu i might delete this since i don't like it

as much as i love my angst, we all need something soft at times, and moments with yan!batfam with a reader who is absolutely fucking broken from their past that the mere implication that someone could love them is enough to let them melt into whoever's chest they lay upon that night.

just, hurt/comfort. one that heals the soul in its overly possessive embrace. the same way chapped lips peck softly on your cheeks, muscled arms caress your fragile, shivering body, and legs tangle upon yours in a cacophony of warm, cozy blankets.

where as the longer time passes in the manor, the more you learn to love. to let go of the painful memories your tormenters left you. to allow past scars to heal into a mere visage of what once was streaks coated in blood. your family acts as your new abductors, yes, but how could you hold your freedom against them when it is them that comfort you from drowning through the deepest depths of your nightmares?

nightmares of the past, of the knives that break through your already gashed skin, or the ropes that burn through bruises and laceration— every time you wake up crying, with tears running down your cheeks and a pained cry; a recollection of the torture you were subject to, it is them that come running to your room not a moment after.

it's bruce's tall, domineering form that crumbles into soft, snug pillows for you. your father arms that punches criminals into prison become the shoulder you lean on. calloused fingers rub your cheeks, wiping away your tears, holding your face in his palms like you're the most fragile thing on earth— and you are. every time he looks at your dampened eyes and sniffling nose, he gets reminded of how lonely he was as a child, who lost his parent too young to the cruelty of the world, of gotham and her unyielding coldness. and when he reminisces, he begins to cage you in his arms a tad bit tighter, begins to comfort you longer and softer than he has ever done with anyone else, as if he is reassuring himself. it is with you that his vulnerability, that fear of loss becomes all too stronger. and every time you cry a bit longer, your hold on his sleeves becoming unyielding, does bruce become crueler in his pursuit of fighting crime, a lesson to himself that the people he punishes are those with hands capable enough to harm you, his precious, his pearl that glints throughout the moonlight.

whenever your father is unavailable, it's dick who runs to you, with all the intention to provide you comfort. it's him who calls you his baby bird, as he reassures you that you're no burden in his eyes every time you scream in terror as your sleep. it's him who loves to drown you in his affection, always near, always close, never far and never too much. physically, he's the most doting to a fault. tender, yet tight were his hugs. his kisses to your cheeks and your forehead always linger, as if hesitant to release itself from its rightful place. it's a testiment to how much he loves you, how he's incapable of separating himself from you. god, he loves you so much he wishes he'd just melt right into your skin, so that you actually finally realize how you're the most important thing in the world to him. you, his baby bird. if he had met you sooner, quite earlier, right after his parent's have died, then maybe he could've managed his anger better, could've learned to cope with you through the battles you both fought. it's with you that dick feel unbearably euphoric, ready to spill his love to the point where tears consume his eyes and his head laid on your chest refuses to detach itself.

jason isn't familiar with what warmth feels like, not anymore. but when he sees your hapless state, he sees a reflection of himself in that abandoned warehouse. broken, defiled, hurt. with nothing to comfort you from the cold other than the ropes that burn through your skin and the adrenaline that runs through your veins. he forgots what solace feels like, what it means, but through your shared trauma does jason learn. he learns to talk to you, with you, learns to pinpoint each and every emotion he felt at the time, what you felt inside that putrid basement. he learns to manage his grief because he doesn't want to anger himself looking at you, at just how much justice can only serve so many. the longer you talk to jason, the more he becomes softer, yet hungrier. he learns how to hold you in a way a brother learns to hold his baby sibling for the first time when conceived. he relearns the warmth he felt, like when he was finally able to be good enough to be the successor to the title of robin, when he felt you drool on his chest when you trusted him enough to sleep in his room. yet this time that feeling was accompanied with that ominous, distracting essence. one that makes jason's knuckles crack and have him prepare his guns, as he discovers that you can never truly erase the past. and even though it might take years for him to be your ideal brother, he could at least be your sole protector.

then there's tim, who never truly had the opportunity to develop that deeper sense of love he wanted to feel until he was officially adopted into the wayne family right after his parents' death. don't get him wrong, he loves his mom and dad, and so does he loves his current family— but it's obsession that drives him nonetheless. the need to prove himself, to gather information about everyone to know who they truly are; beyond that there's nothing more than shallowness, a neverending hole he can't satisfy. but with you? oh god, you. to tim, you're his everything. you devour his being whole. with you, there's always something new. the need to track every single thing about you leads him into this cycle of want and need that coagulates into desire, into drive. every time you smile, or laugh, or frown, he gains newer intel about you, one he loops into the deepest crevices of his brain at a constant, you are his constant. but staying right behind you can only do so much. and as he sits right beside you in bed, awkwardly comforting you through the ways he mirrored off from his brothers: a sloppy kiss to your knuckles, a joke cracked here and there, and wiping your eyes and nose with his sleeves; tim learns that stalking can only do so much. he learns what it feels like to be needed for emotional connection and nothing else and that only further motivates him to be perfect for you, and to be with you, his sibling, more often than to simply live right under your nose.

and damian, your baby brother, who's unsurprisingly the one who sleeps in your room, or has you sleep in his room, the most. damian tells himself he's incapable of love, of showing it or reciprocating it. but for you, he tries, and like jason, he learns. he discovers just how depraved both of you are when it comes to love. it enlightens you both and it makes damian feel a deeper sense of connection with you than anyone else. with you, he feels like a child: vulnerable, yet uncaring and free, like the true meaning of being a robin, one the soars through the skies with no grandfather or mother or league to watch your every step as their successor. all the times you cry, he silently sobs with you, holding your cheeks down to his level with scarred palms. silent, yet comforting, he'd allow his smaller form to simply become your teddy bear whilst he whispers consolations. about how strong his older sibling is, how precious you are for being comfortable with him to speak of your problems, how you're everything to damian just as he wishes to be the world for you. it makes you think you're more immature that him, it makes him grateful that he has you. even though he doesn't say it, he shows through actions just how truly important you are whenever he draws a sword towards his enemies, thinking about you and his unsaid promises.

nights where you're reminded of that solitary confinement, of the darkness that creeps into your vision and the voices that pierce through your ears. nights where you feel you've exhausted yourself of hope, where what was once warmth that hugs your heart is now that frigid, yet burning spikes that penetrates into the confidence that you'll somehow, someday, run away from that hellhole— those were nights you thought you'd never live with proper sleep. but as one or two of them holds you in their embrace whenever your nightmares consume your being, you're slowly allowing your established walls to fall apart, all for the mere implication of their love.

who would save you, if not for them? their hushed whispers of consolation, hands that wrap around your figure, and fingers that knead your cheeks provide you that deep sated comfort you always wanted. the sleeves they use to wipe away both saltine liquid and snot, to slowly silence your blubbering rambles, your inconsolable crying; it's warmer than the basement you used to be locked in as a child, with dripping faucets the only source of your water— they saved you once before, who's to say they won't save you a thousand times more?

every time you feel like crying, every time that familiar faulty tap in your eyes begins to dampen against ashen skin, it's them that asks you if you're alright. even if you grit your teeth, even if you seeth or bite or beat or punch or kick, to punish yourself, to cope through the trauma, to not feel nothing.

every time pain begins to sear through your skin, it's your grandfather, father, brothers and sisters that huddle around you and tell you 'you're safe here, in the manor, with us'.

every time they spend hours, ditching patrol nights, cooking your comfort food, reading your favorite books, watching movies for hours, ignoring your assigned sleep schedule, kissing your scarred hands gently, reverently, cuddling your form against their strong ones as a silent promise that with them, there's nothing to harm you no more— you'd feel lighter every time, a tad happier, even. slowly, but surely, melting against the confines of your adorned cage and the embrace of your loving captors.

every time they help you heal, it makes you forgive, and it makes you forget their prior kidnapping in return of building new memories with them, in a safer haven, with nobody to hurt you any longer, with nobody to bash your head against concrete walls, to punish you. you who is underserving of the circumstances bought upon you back then.

safe, a word you thought you'll never feel, a word you didn't even know existed in the crevices of your heart. but it is with them that you slowly start to associate safe with family.

the family that you've come to love and cherish in your own imperfect ways, the same way a stray dog becomes too loyal to a passerby when given bones for leftovers every day.

but you're not an animal, and you're not a pavlovian dog meant to be conditioned. no, you're their baby, their love, their treasure and their only one. the love they feed you exceeds beyond leftovers. only you can devour them wholly, the same way they cloak your world in the love that fills that neverending pit in your heart.

you're not biologically related to any of them in any way, too. yet it was all a matter of coincidence that they stumbled upon you.

but really, past is past.

then is then.

now it's just you and them.

it's you, with them.

just your family. overbearing, overprotective, overpowering.

but nothing is always over to you. their love isn't too much. how could you tell yourself it's too much? not when you were never given a basis of what is too much. how is one too much when you were never even given enough?

trust is built upon a foundation of connecting with others who can relate with you one way or another, who can see past through your flaws and mistakes— it's a bond that precedes mere acquaintanceship.

you might've met them later than everyone else, but it's you that completes them.

you're the puzzle that completes the family photographs, the goal for bruce to continue his legacy as batman and to ward off all evil, the inspiration for dick to be that aspiring hero everyone sees him to be, the reason jason begins to reform himself for your sake, the purpose for tim's endless pursuit of knowledge, the muse for damian's painting, the subject for his love he thought was no more, the ambition for steph's prolongation despite her countless of failures, the motivation for barbara to seek out all the criminals who have harmed you, the influence for cass to be stronger to protect you, the catalyst for duke to use his metahuman abilities for good, to take out those who walk in broad daylight, as if they weren't involved in your past tortures.

you're everything that they are.

their sunshine and moonlight, their companionship and loneliness, their pain and pleasure, their yin and yan.

their greatest passion.

a/n: hii guys erm. this is so sudden and also counts as a rant but yk... i feel like quitting this blog but at the same time not. it's just, i feel like writing has been more of an obligation than anything else. it doesn't help the fact that i've only been getting interaction if i were to actually produce something good. beyond that, it feels like people are expecting more of me. i get it, updates are sporadic, they appear in the blink of an eye when you least expect it, but at the same time it's just hard juggling what i want to write and what i feel like i need to write. this blog was primarily to post about my thoughts and to talk to people but lately, every time i open this app to write, i feel these plethora of thoughts and expectations telling me that if i don't do well enough then people would merely ignore whatever i post or it's just bad by standards. and yes i'm grateful for all the people supporting my writing, but at the same time i'm lead to a cycle of me losing my motivation to continue writing. ugh idk what im doing anymore help :((

tl;dr: will i stop writing? no, but at the same time i don't know. someday, i may deactivate this account out of impulse if i feel too much, or not. it depends hehe.

1K notes · View notes

onyourj-uls · 2 days ago

Note

could you pls do yushi as a boyfriend pls? 🥺🙏

hi anon! thank you for your request and omg, ofc, i love yushi <3 me the happiest to write nct stuff 💚

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡ yushi as a boyfriend

if yushi were your boyfriend, get ready for a relationship full of laughter, sweetness, and unforgettable moments. from his playful way of teasing you to those moments when his more caring and protective side comes out, he would make every day with him special.

꩜ thoughtful without even trying

yushi is the kind of boyfriend who seems like he’s not paying much attention, but in reality, he remembers everything. did you mention once that you love a specific dessert? the next time you go out, he’ll suddenly pull out a bag of that same sweet and casually say:

"oh, i saw it and thought of you." as if he doesn’t know he just made you melt.

꩜ playful and fun

he’s always looking for ways to make you laugh. whether it’s with silly impressions, bad jokes, or just teasing you affectionately, his goal is to see that smile on your face. he loves to mess with you, like hiding behind a door to scare you or calling you a random nickname just to see your reaction.

if you like video games, he’ll be the perfect gaming partner. It doesn’t matter if you’re good or bad, he’ll make every match fun. and if you lose, he’ll tease you with a smirk and say:

"want me to teach you?" (😼) while looking at you with that mischievous smile you can’t resist.

꩜ spontaneous dates and unforgettable moments.

he’s not the type to plan every detail in advance. instead, he’ll surprise you with last-minute plans that turn out to be the best memories. a simple walk can become an adventure because, suddenly, he decides to take you to a beautiful place he discovered or buy desserts from a hidden café.

he loves being on the move, but he also cherishes quiet moments. if one day you both just want to stay in, he’ll cuddle up with you on the couch, wrap his arms around you, and watch movies while shamelessly stealing your popcorn.

꩜ lots of skinship and sincere affection

When he’s comfortable, Yushi is all about physical touch. No matter where you are, he’ll always find a way to be close—holding your hand, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, or resting his head on your shoulder when he’s tired.

If you’re with others, he’ll do little things like brushing his fingers against yours or playing with the sleeves of your sweater. But if you’re alone… well, that’s when the affection becomes more obvious: long hugs, spontaneous kisses, and that intense gaze that makes you forget everything else.

꩜ protective, but not overbearing.

he’s not overly jealous, but if someone crosses the line with you, his entire demeanor changes. he’ll go from being the chill guy to someone with a serious gaze and a more assertive posture. he won’t make a scene, but he’ll make sure everyone knows you’re with him.

if you’re feeling sad or worried, instead of pressuring you, he’ll give you space while making sure you know he’s there for you. a simple:

"If you need to talk, just tell me, okay?" will be enough to make you feel safe with him.

꩜ your number one fan.

no matter what you do, to yushi, you’re the best in the world. if you get dressed up, he’ll stare at you in awe before saying something like:

"how do you always look this pretty?" (😭😭😭)

if you’re working on something, he’ll hype you up with:

"you’re going to do amazing, i just know it."

and if you achieve something, he’ll hug you excitedly and tell you how proud he is of you.

even in the simplest moments, he’ll look at you with that soft expression, like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

꩜ spicy touch.

even though he has that laid-back and sweet image, when the situation calls for it, yushi can completely catch you off guard. yhere’s something about the way his voice drops when he whispers in your ear, the way his fingers trace the edge of your clothes slowly, savoring every reaction you give him.

kissing him starts off slow and playful, but once he gets carried away, his intensity shifts. His hands explore your back with more firmness, pulling you closer, while his breath against your skin makes you lose all sense of time.

and the worst (or best) part? he knows exactly what he’s doing. that little smirk after seeing you flustered, the way he murmurs in a husky voice:

"what’s wrong? can’t handle this?"… (AaaaAaAaAaaaaaaAaaa😵‍💫😵‍💫)

and at that moment, you realize that, even though he acts innocent, yushi is far more dangerous than he seems.

🌼 yushi would be the kind of boyfriend who balances sweetness and intensity perfectly. he can be playful and chill, but when he wants to, he’ll make you feel like you’re the only person in his world♡

i had a lot of fun writing this! hope u like it<3

#tokuno yushi #yushi #yushi nct #yushi x reader #nct wish #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct #nctzen #nct zone #neoposting #kpop imagines #kpop idols #idol!reader #idol x reader #japanese idol #juwuls🎀

40 notes · View notes

unluckiestmember · 1 year ago

Text

Baldur's Gate 3 X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Astarion Ancunin, Shadowheart, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, Karlach and Halsin

Tags: friends to lovers, acquittances to lovers, in denial, overprotective, fluff, indirect kisses, Gale being Gale, fake love (until it's not), established relationship and innocence.

Warning: SFW. Light suggestive themes.

A/N: Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. No, I'm still in a chokehold-

Astarion Ancunin

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing ever? I could just eat you right up, darling~.”

When he first met you, Astarion knew you were an easy target. A nice meal he could exploit, especially if you’re a virgin, and a great pawn for the road ahead. He would deliver sweet nothings to you in hopes of sleeping in your bed and drinking from the pure blood that coursed through your veins. But as time continued, as you showed how sweet you were, the pale elf found himself genuinely falling for you.

He wanted to protect you from the world around both of you and bite anyone who tried to hurt you. He’d even hesitate on feeding from you out of fear he’d hurt you or expose himself to your pained gasps. You were his precious jewel he couldn’t afford to be taken from him or tainted in any way. With everyone else, he’s still a flirtatious and snarky vampire spawn. But around you, he will always be a sweet man who wants to make sure you’re okay. His princess/prince… That being said, don’t expect him to stop flirting with you. He adores when you get flustered.

Shadowheart

“Stand behind me! I don’t want you to get hurt! Just do as I say, okay?!”

At first Shadowheart thought you weren’t real. That there was no way in the nine hells that there was someone as pure as you. She genuinely thought your personality was a charade. So she watched you carefully, waiting for you to show your true colors in the form of berating someone or betraying one of the campers. But you never did. You always stayed true to yourself.

When she realized that you were probably the most modest person in your motley crew, the Shar Worshipper became attracted to you. She spent more time with you and suddenly felt like she needed to take care of you along your adventure together. Similar to Astarion, Shadowheart tries to be ever so gentle with you, never using pain in bed and out of bed unless you approve of her actions when she asks for permission. It’s evident to everyone she cares deeply for you and wouldn’t mind spending her life with you.

Gale Dekarios

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen the embodiment of happiness. Who knew I would find that in you?”

You had Gale’s heart as soon as you said hi to him. It didn’t take long for this man to turn into putty around you nor to become friends with you. And he fell in love when you always gave him magical objects without hesitation. Asking him if he’s alright and stroking his head after he eats his weave? He was swooned. The closer you two became, the more the wizard would share his life with you like an open book and offer any kind of lesson in magic to you.

It didn’t take long for him to admit he had romantic feelings for you, leading to you to become a couple. At camp, he is a gentleman, always asking if you need anything in between kisses to your cheek and becoming bashful with you when you bless his ears with your giggles. Outside of camp, he’s focused on you, making sure no one lays a finger or spell on that cute head of yours. You bring the best out of Gale and make him the happiest man in all of the realms.

Lae’zel

“G’lyck. If you’re hurt, then go to the ghustil… Hurry up or I’ll drag you to her myself.”

You were a liability to Lae’zel. Always getting hurt? Never killing your enemies? Checking up on everyone over yourself? She wanted nothing more than to throw you to the wolves so you wouldn’t ruin the group’s odds of survival. She hated you with a flaming passion. She hated how you always asked if she was okay. How you always treated her wounds after a battle and dare to kiss her injuries better. How you cowered behind her during combat.. And especially how you made her heart flutter when you slept across from her by the campfire, watching your cute face in a state of peace…

If it was up to her, she’d kick you out of the camp for what you’ve done to her. She swears it. But for now? She guesses she’ll keep you around for a little longer. Besides, she knows without her you’d die out there. You need her and she needs you.

Wyll Ravengard

“Don’t fret now, I won’t let them lay a finger on you, not when the Blade of Frontiers is right by your side.”

Wyll always wanted to have a romance like fairy tales. Save a fair princess or prince from their troubles like a knight in shining armor while slaying dragons. To meet someone who was the sweetest thing alive and experience real happiness with them by his side. So when he met you, you can bet he felt like he won the jackpot! He found your bashful nature and careless personality to be a breath of fresh air, especially when he was punished by Mizora.

At first you were a great friend, but when you took care of him, polished his horns and always checked if he was alright after fights, true love sprung between you two. It didn’t take long for him to confess his feelings to you and take your hand as your boyfriend. From that day forward, he’s been your savior on and off the battlefield when he wasn’t your sweet lover that showered you in compliments and kisses. You are positive that with Wyll you are bound to have a happily ever after.

Karlach

“Aww, you’re so adorable I just wanna squish your cheeks and hug you forever!... I can?! Well, come here, you!”

It was love at first sight between you and Karlach. After you splashed her with water and made sure she was okay, the barbarian’s heart was in your hands. She was so used to meeting backstabbers, manipulators and liars that she wasn’t sure there were any good people left. But you proved her wrong and she was so happy you did. Because of you, she made it her sole mission to get infernal iron so she could touch you.

When she couldn’t, she would share indirect kisses with you using rocks and even gift you her teddy bear Clive when you couldn’t hold her. And when she finally was able to touch you, she held you as if her life depended on it. There isn’t a moment where you two are not touching in and out of camp. You make her feel alive again in more ways than one and to her you are her soulmate. She loves you so much and will do anything to make sure you know that.

Halsin

“If you were a part of nature’s divine design, then you are a pure ray of sunshine given by the Oak Father.”

Halsin immediately gave you his trust and respect when you saved him without a reason to. It didn’t help that he also found you to be adorable with how nervous you got around him and how you stuttered a bit. With how you were, the druid quickly grew an interest in you, wanting to be beside you and feel your skin against his. He loved how you were so considerate when he wild shaped, petting his head and playing with him effortlessly.

In the wilderness, you were something like his mate, always protected by foes and checked for injuries. If there were any, he would bandage them as quickly as he could and carry you the rest of the way back to camp. When everything was settled, he’d immediately cuddle you as himself or as a bear. You were perfect in every way to him and for that, he would be your sole protector no matter what.

If you got any requests for Baldur's Gate 3, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

4K notes · View notes

blindmagdalena · 7 months ago

Text

All of a Sudden, There You Are

3k. homelander x gn!reader. pining. pure fluff! an older fic that desperately needed cleaning up. rewritten for a consistent perspective and added 600-some words. gif credit. AO3 link.

As Homelander's stylist, it's your job to ensure he looks his best, whether he's saving the world or saving face in front of the cameras. After nearly a year servicing him, things between you change abruptly.

Familiarity and consistency feed a base need in all of us. So much of what is best in us is bound up in the permanence of those around us that it becomes the measure of our stability. For Homelander, there are precious few things in his life that offer him any such quality of solidarity. People come and go. It's the nature of the business that has always been his life.

He's stopped paying attention to the PA's, interns and other worker ants that rotate in and out. Their faces blend together in a bland sea of normality and mediocrity. They're little more than cogs in the machine of his contrastingly extraordinary life.

Funny, then, that you should catch his attention amidst the insectoid buzz of it all.

It happens quite abruptly. He's just sat down before a brightly lit vanity where it's your job to style his hair and makeup, as it has been for the last several months. You greet him good morning, as you do every time, but for whatever reason... He notices you today.

"Remind me, what's your name again?" Homelander asks, watching you draw a comb from your kit.

That visibly catches you off guard. You offer only a dumbfounded stare for a moment before snapping to attention, smiling sheepishly as you introduce yourself. The name doesn't sound familiar to him. Had he never actually asked? Probably not. There’s rarely a point in bothering.

He hums contemplatively. "You've been styling me for a while.”

"Yes, sir. About eight months now," you say, using the comb to begin working product through his hair. He’s fairly certain this is the most he's ever spoken to you in all that time.

That sounds like both a long while and yet no time at all. It's nothing in the grand scheme of his life, but in terms of the people he sees consistently, that puts you in a shockingly small pool of individuals. Inevitably they move on, whether by choice or because they’ve found a way to irritate him enough that he has them dismissed.

He can recall his last stylist not by their name or face, but by the way they’d always manage to spray product in his eyes. They hadn’t lasted two days. The one before that he can’t bring to mind a single detail of.

Typically humans only become exceptional to him for how they grate on his patience. You’ve somehow managed to avoid making yourself noteworthy in that regard. Before today you had served as little more than a properly functioning gear in the well-oiled machine of his life.

Now it's as though you suddenly exist to him. Blood, flesh, laughter and all.

"Gooood morning," he greets you the next day, once again triggering another flare of surprise in you. He’s aware of the strangeness of his initiation, but behaves as though he isn’t. He flashes you one of his trademark Hollywood grins.

"Good morning to you, sir," you say with an answering smile that catches his eye. You sound pleased, which tickles something pleasant in the back of his own mind. He likes how well you’re mirroring his shift in mannerism.

He waves his hand dismissively. "Please, Homelander is fine. You keep it awfully formal."

You're actually quite pretty, he notices. Not exceptionally so, not like the celebrities and figures of social influence that someone like him brushes shoulders with on a daily basis, but... pretty nonetheless. He doesn't remember you being this pretty before, and speculates while you work whether you've changed something about yourself. He cannot put his finger on what exactly that may be, though.

He’s perceptive when it comes to the things that matter. Until yesterday, you hadn’t.

You laugh sweetly, pushing your fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter shut as you do. You’re good with your hands, much better than the last stylist. He’s sure he made note of that at some point, but in the same way someone notices when a door stops squeaking. You take it for granted after the first time.

"I'm a creature of habit. Might take me a couple tries to adjust," you warn, covering his forehead with your palm as you spritz product into his hair. You never let any of that sticky crap get on his face, much less in his eyes. You take measures to ensure his comfort, even though he’s never scolded you. You seem to do it entirely out of reflex simply because you care enough to.

"Well, you've made it this far. You've got time to adjust," he says. Now that he's seen you, he finds that he doesn't care for the thought of you being gone. More than that, he starts actively looking forward to the time he spends in the chair with you. What used to be a monotonous aspect of the celebrity side of his life becomes a comforting ritual.

The two of you chat with surprising ease, like old friends made new. He tells you about himself, vents to you about work and personal business alike. In turn he learns about you and the life you live beyond the time you share with him. It’s nothing extraordinary–not like his–but it's yours, and for some reason, that’s enough to make it interesting.

The more he grasps that you are an entire person outside of the service you provide him, the more he wants to know. He doesn’t give a fuck about your elderly cat, but he does like the way your voice changes when you talk about it. His mind drifts when you tell him these little anecdotes, and he wonders what you tell the people in your life about him. He wonders if your tone similarly changes when you do. Do you speak fondly of him? Days turn to weeks. Little by little, Homelander discerns small changes in himself. There’s a slight pep in his step these days. The sun feels a little warmer, the thrum of crowded events less irritating. His attitude towards interviews flips; even the ones he used to dread he begins to anticipate. He knows you’ll have him looking and feeling his finest. He knows that regardless of what awaits him, you’ll have something to say about it that will make it easier to smile for the cameras.

Thinking of you is sometimes all it takes.

When he has nothing on his schedule to be styled for, he sulks. On those days, he misses your laugh the most.

He makes sure the products he keeps at home are the same as the ones you use. The smell of them reminds him of the smell of you, of your knock-off Dior perfume that fades too quickly after you apply it, which makes it just perfect for his keen sense of smell. The humble subtlety of you, your sincerity and gentleness, have become a boon against the unfeeling corporate reality of his life. On the days he does see you, he begins to miss you before he’s even left you. Now, as he walks to his next scheduled appointment with you, he’s painfully aware of the beat of his own heart. His stomach is twisting in on itself, though he isn’t hungry. If anything, he feels a little nauseous. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the cacophony inside of him becomes. Is he sick? That shouldn’t be possible, but he can’t understand what’s happening to him. Pausing just outside the door, he takes in a steadying breath.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Taking a moment to collect himself, he gives his face two quick pats on either side, shaking his head. Get it together, he tells himself, stepping into the dressing room.

“Gooood morn–” Homelander cuts himself short, looking around the empty room. His brows pinch. He isn’t early. Pursing his lips, he takes a brief stroll about the room, clutching his hands behind his back. He peers down the hallway, cutting through the layers of wall with his vision. No sign of you on the grounds yet. He clicks his tongue.

You’ve never been late. Unable to settle, he paces for a while. He has the thought to call you, but he realizes he doesn’t have your number. Why doesn’t he have your number? It seems such an obvious thing to have despite the fact he’s never needed it.

He’s just pulled out his cellphone to track it down from Ashley when the door suddenly opens and his head snaps up. The initial relief he feels is cut short, turning cold in his chest when the person who steps through the door is most definitely not you. “Good morning!” the woman greets him, her voice chirpy and grating in his ears. She’s not really happy to see him. She doesn’t know the first fucking thing about him. At most, she’s another sycophantic drone who’s only pleased to breathe his air. In his upset, she looks freakishly distorted, her smile overly wide and fake. His leather gloves creak as he curls his hands into fists. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, voice as measured as he can manage it. His anger hits in an unreasonable surge, hot like lava from a volcano. This woman’s only crime is the fact she’s not you, and yet it’s enough to make him want to rip her head off her shoulders, spine and all. The woman hesitates in the doorway, her chipper demeanor flipping to a fearful one. “Uhm, my name is Lisa, I’m supposed to style you to–” “Where is my stylist?” he interrupts her, prowling towards her like a hungry predator. He says again, louder this time, voice full of anger and anxiety in equal measure, “Where the fuck is my stylist?!” “I– I don’t know!” Lisa yelps, stepping backwards from him. “I was called in as a last minute replacement! They said– they said there was an accident, or–” Homelander pushes her roughly out of the doorway, blowing past her with a frustrated growl. She hits the wall hard before crumpling to the floor like a lifeless sack of potatoes, but he doesn’t even register it. He calls Ashley, stalking down the hallway, his footfalls loud with fury. Why the fuck didn’t anyone think to tell him? “Ashley!” He snarls into his phone the second she answers. “Tell me where the fuck my goddamn stylist is.”

Homelander is at the hospital within minutes. The staff puts up a meager effort to enforce protocols, but he’s The Homelander, and after a lie or two, they eventually let him through. He hates the smell of hospitals. The sickly mix of bleach and illness, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. They never should have brought you here. You should be in Vought’s med ward.

You should be with him. When he finds you, you’re sitting with the hospital bed halfway reclined, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. The vibrant reds and blues of his suit paint a sharp contrast to the stark white walls of the hospital room when he steps inside. You have a pudding cup in your hand, though you nearly drop it when you see him in the doorway. His hair is woefully unstyled, splayed loose in every direction from his flight. “H-Homelander,” you sputter, choking on your bite of pudding. You swallow, clearing your throat. He’s walking towards you. The closer he gets, the faster your heart beats in his ears. “What are you doing here?” “Are you okay?” He asks, blowing off your question entirely. He blinks and his vision flickers through your clothes and skin alike. He scans your body for internal damage, for broken or fractured bones. You’re not wearing a cast or anything, but he needs to be sure. You nod, clutching at the blanket, wearing your confusion plainly on your face. “Yeah, I’m okay, it’s probably just mild whiplash, but I’m getting an x-ray to be–” “You’re fine,” he breathes more to himself than to you, his relief palpable. He can hear the flustered patter of your heart clearly. With the adrenaline wearing off, he’s beginning to feel that sickly familiar feeling that he had experienced in the hallway; butterflies rampant in his stomach, battering their wings frantically inside him. His jaw feels tight, his tongue too big for his mouth. Staring at you now, frail and precious as you are in this ugly hospital bed, he realizes what’s the matter–what has always been the matter–he is deeply and incurably in love with you. “Are you okay?” You ask, taking in his tortured expression, his wildly wind-swept hair. The obvious concern in your voice and in your eyes churns his already twisting gut. “No,” he says, the response knee-jerk. Even though the room is still, he feels as though the world is spinning around him. “No, I think I’m in love with you,” he says, expression twisted up, like he’s figuring out each word as he says them. Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches in your lungs. It’s as if the words have paralyzed you. Homelander laughs. It sounds a little hysterical.

“I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me,” he says, reaching out to cup either side of your face in his gloved hands. “I love you,” he says, voice firmer now, the realization setting in fully. He looks slightly delirious with it. He’s discovered a secret that he should have known all along, that seems so obvious in hindsight. Of course he loves you, because you love him. The gentleness in your hands as you touched his face, the care in your fingers stroking through his hair far longer than both of you knew you needed to. You dedicated yourself like no other to showing him reverence in service of him, and is that not love in its purest form? And yet, you don’t look to share his elation. You look like you’ve been struck by lightning, expression wide and bewildered. You still haven’t taken a breath. Homelander’s smile falters. “What’s the matter?” He asks, tone dropping a touch. “This is good news! Great, even.” For every second that you do not speak, the beat of his heart feels heavier in his chest. Why don’t you look happy? Finally, you suck in a shaky breath. He watches you with all the intensity of a viper poised to strike.

“I…” You hesitate. You lift your hands and grip his wrists, squeezing them through the thick fabric of his gloves as if to convince yourself that he’s really there. Maybe the accident was worse than he thought. Did you hit your head?

Panic swells in his chest. It hadn’t occurred to him you might not reciprocate. The thought makes him ill.

“I never…” your eyes turn glassy, welling with tears. “Say it!” he wants to shout, his own heart hammering loudly enough to nearly drown out your words. “I never would have thought–or even dreamed–in a million years that you might love me back.”

love me back.

Like a dying ember roaring back to life, Homelander’s demeanor reignites, his faded smile broadening once more.

“I realized it when I was worried fucking sick because you didn't show up,” he says, leaning closer to you. He’s brought the scent of ozone from the sky he tore through on his way to you, but all he cares about is the faint smell of pudding lingering on your lips.

He huffs a laugh. “They sent in some idiot to fill in for you. Like they could replace you. I almost tore her head off,” he says, giddy with euphoria. Your expression shifts, brows furrowing. “Wait, what? You almost-” “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he interrupts, his voice a low rumble. He can already taste you in the breaths you’re close enough to share with him, and he’s never been hungrier for anything–or anyone–in his life. You fall silent with a shiver, nodding minutely, eyes falling shut. “Please do.” His lips meet yours in a gentle press. He deserves a medal for not crushing you with the sheer magnitude of his desire. You all but melt against him, settling into his grip as smoothly as you settled into his life, his mind, his heart. When the two of you break apart, you make a breathless noise that shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He feels hyper aware of your every sound and move.

God, how he wants to feel every part of you.

You move your hands to touch his face and he leans into the softness of your caress. You’ve been close enough to kiss more times than he can count. The fact it’s only now occurred to him to do so seems like lunacy. Your eyes dip to his lips, your thumb brushes the bottom one. He catches it with a quick kiss and you laugh your sweet bell-chime laughter.

Pushing your hand into his hair, the wondrous joy in your expression becomes tinged with amusement. “And people wonder why I use so much gel,” you murmur, smooth the wild splay of his hair down with both hands, cupping the back of his head. Homelander smiles wide and boyishly, which prompts you to kiss him again.

“I’m not having some kind of brain bleed hallucination right now, right?” You ask quietly, the tip of your nose lightly pressed to his. He brushes his lips against yours between words. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he purrs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Despite the ugly fluorescent lights and the dreadful hospital stench all around, you look resplendent in your joy.

He had been right. It was love that you touched him with. It had been subtle, imbued in your every movement, and for months he had soaked it up until, unbeknownst to him, he fell into it as well.

“Trust me when I say you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, brushing your nose with his.

Maybe instead of tearing them limb from limb, he’ll send flowers to whoever the sorry son of a bitch that rear-ended you this morning was. Who knows how much more time he would have wasted before he realized he was utterly smitten with you.

#i've been meaning to get this fic fixed up for ages bc the original was a MESS and randomly switched to the reader's pov halfway in lol #but i have major fondness and nostalgia for this fic #it's from like my first month in the fandom #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #x reader #my writing #fluff

1K notes · View notes

holdmytesseract · 1 month ago

Text

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

755 notes · View notes

hjvi · 5 days ago

Text

𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Summary: The night gets too intense and you end up using your safe word

Word Count: 2.2k

The room was bathed in soft, golden light from the lamp on Matt’s nightstand. Outside, the world was quiet, but inside, the air was thick with warmth and intimacy. His hands were firm yet gentle as they roamed your body, fingertips tracing familiar paths over your skin, mapping out every curve, every dip. He moved with care, his weight pressing into you just enough to make you feel safe beneath him.

His lips brushed against yours, slow and deep, stealing your breath away like he always did. There was never any rush with Matt. He was patient, attentive, making sure that every movement, every touch, was as pleasurable for you as it was for him. You could feel the way he adored you in the way his hands cupped your face, the way he whispered sweet words between each kiss.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze held yours, soft and adoring, before trailing lower to drink in the sight of you beneath him.

Your hands roamed up his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself over you, your legs tangled together in a way that felt so natural, so intimate. Every part of you felt connected to him, as if you were one, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.

The slow, intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together left you breathless, every roll of his hips against yours drawing quiet whimpers from your lips. Your fingers found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure built inside you. You bit down gently on his shoulder, muffling your moans, feeling the heat of his skin against your lips.

Matt let out a soft chuckle, dipping his head to press a kiss against your temple. “Let me hear you, baby,” he whispered, his tone sweet yet teasing. “You like that?”

You tried to answer, but all that escaped were soft, breathy whimpers. He took that as a yes, as encouragement, his movements becoming just a little more intense, a little deeper, completely unaware of the way your body had begun to tremble beneath him.

Your legs shook, your fingers clutching at his back as your breath hitched. The overwhelming sensations made your chest tighten, the pleasure bordering on too much, too intense. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first—just another choked whimper.

Matt, lost in the moment, didn’t realize at first, his focus on the way your body responded to him, how perfect you felt around him. But then—

“Red,” you finally gasped out, your voice small but firm.

Everything stopped in an instant. Matt’s body went rigid above you, his breath catching. He didn’t pull away immediately, but he stilled completely, his entire focus shifting to you and only you. His heart pounded in his chest, panic flashing in his eyes as he searched your face.

“Baby,” he breathed, his voice laced with concern. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He didn’t move, afraid of making it worse, of hurting you more. His hands found your cheeks, cradling your face with a gentleness that made your chest ache. The way he looked at you—like you were the most precious thing in the world—made the tears spill over.

“I-I just…” You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. Your body still trembled, overstimulated and overwhelmed. “It was… too much.”

His face fell, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought—”

You shook your head quickly, gripping his wrist to reassure him. “No, no, it’s okay. I just… I needed to stop.”

He exhaled slowly, nodding as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Okay. We’re stopping. We’re done, baby. I’ve got you.”

He stayed inside you for a moment longer, not moving, just holding you close, grounding you. His forehead pressed against yours as he whispered soft apologies and reassurances, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had slipped down your cheeks. His entire focus was on making sure you felt safe, that you knew he was there.

And you did. You always did.

Matt’s hands tremble slightly as he cups your cheek, his thumbs brushing away the dampness on your skin. His forehead remains pressed against yours, breath warm and heavy as he whispers soft apologies. His body is still nestled deep inside you, unmoving, giving you time to catch your breath.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmurs, guilt evident in his voice. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

You shake your head weakly, fingers clutching his arms. “Didn’t want to ruin it.”

His brows furrow, lips pressing into a thin line. “Nothing’s more important than you. I never wanna push you too far.”

The weight of his words settles in your chest, warm and comforting. He doesn’t move right away, knowing you’re still sensitive, still trying to process everything. His hand smooths over your hair, his touch featherlight, grounding you.

Finally, he exhales, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay? Nice and slow.”

You nod, even though your body tenses at the thought. He notices, placing another reassuring kiss against your skin. One of his hands moves to cradle your lower back, the other grasping yours. His grip is firm, steady.

Then, carefully, he starts to pull out—inch by inch, painstakingly slow, as if any sudden movement might break you. The stretch still lingers, the emptiness settling in as the pressure gradually dissipates. Your body involuntarily clenches, the oversensitivity making you whimper.

“I know, baby,” he soothes, voice dripping with warmth. “Almost done, just a little more.”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he’s out. The bulge in your stomach is gone, but the ache remains. You let out a shaky breath, body slumping against the mattress. Matt doesn’t hesitate—he presses soft kisses along your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he can reach, whispering endless praises.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs against your skin. “So perfect, baby. My perfect girl.”

His hands gently ghost over your waist before settling on your hips, his brows knitting together when he notices the faint red marks blooming there. His lips part slightly as if in realization, eyes flicking downwards.

Below you, it’s a mess. Evidence of the night glistens against your inner thighs, sticky and warm. Matt swallows thickly, guilt evident in the way his jaw clenches. He drags his fingers over your hip, tracing the marks he unknowingly left.

“Shit…” he whispers, voice laced with remorse. “I didn’t realize I was gripping you that hard.”

You lift yourself onto your elbows, following his gaze. The sight makes your stomach flutter and your heart ache simultaneously. “It’s okay,” you mumble sleepily, reaching to lace your fingers with his. “I like when you hold me.”

Matt lets out a breathy chuckle, though the guilt still lingers in his eyes. He leans down, pressing a kiss to each mark, his lips lingering as if he can erase the redness with just his touch.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Gonna clean you up, alright?”

You nod hazily, exhaustion weighing heavy on your limbs. Matt moves carefully, slipping off the bed with practiced ease. The absence of his warmth makes you shiver, but he’s not gone long. He returns moments later with a warm, damp towel, kneeling beside you with a look of pure adoration.

“Gonna wipe you down now,” he murmurs. “It might be a little cold.”

You hum in acknowledgment, but when the fabric touches your overstimulated skin, you flinch, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Matt’s eyes widen in alarm. “Shit, baby—I’m sorry. I should’ve warmed it up more.”

You shake your head, offering him a drowsy smile. “S’okay… just sensitive.”

His brows knit together, and he’s impossibly gentle as he continues, whispering soft apologies with every swipe. His other hand rubs soothing circles into your thigh, grounding you. Once he’s done, he discards the towel and helps you slip into one of his shirts—soft, oversized, smelling like him.

Matt cups your face as he lays you back against the pillows, eyes searching yours. “You feeling okay?”

You nod sleepily. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “You scared me for a second,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanna hurt you, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you reassure, fingers curling around his wrist. “I just got overwhelmed.”

Matt exhales, nodding slowly. He tucks you into his chest, wrapping himself around you protectively. His lips press against your forehead, lingering there as he breathes you in.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin. “So much.”

A small, sleepy smile tugs at your lips. “Love you too.”

He tightens his hold on you slightly, like he never wants to let go. “Get some rest, baby. I’ve got you.”

And with him beside you, warm and safe, you believe him.

Matt’s warmth surrounded you, his body still so close, but all you could focus on was the uncomfortable feeling that lingered. Your legs ached, a dull soreness settling into your muscles, and the sticky sensation between your thighs made you shift uncomfortably. Even though Matt had cleaned you up, you still felt gross. Your body was too sensitive, too raw, and when his hand found your lower abdomen in a comforting gesture, you winced without meaning to.

Immediately, he pulled back, his brows knitting together in concern. "Baby? What's wrong?" His voice was impossibly soft, as if he were afraid to break you.

You swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. "I just... I still feel dirty," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Matt’s heart ached at your words. He never wanted you to feel anything less than cherished, and seeing you like this—so vulnerable and uncomfortable—made him determined to fix it.

"Okay, angel," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Let me take care of you, yeah? How about a bath? Nice and warm, just how you like it."

You hesitated, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but the idea of being completely clean, of washing away the overwhelming sensation on your skin, was tempting. You nodded slowly, and Matt smiled, cupping your cheek. "I’ll get everything ready, just stay here."

As he moved away, you watched him through heavy lids. He disappeared into the bathroom, and soon, you could hear the soft sound of water running. The thoughtfulness in his every action made your chest tighten with emotion.

He returned quickly, kneeling beside you on the bed. "Come on, sweetheart. I got it just right for you."

Carefully, he helped you sit up, his hands steady on your waist as he guided you to stand. Your legs wobbled, but Matt was right there, supporting you. "I got you, baby," he promised, letting you lean into him as he led you toward the bathroom.

The warmth of the steam enveloped you as you stepped inside, and the sight of the bath made you melt a little. The water was filled just enough to submerge you comfortably, and Matt had even placed a fresh towel and your favorite body wash within reach.

He turned to you, his hands moving to the hem of the oversized shirt he had dressed you in earlier. "Let me?" he asked, giving you the choice.

You nodded, and with the utmost care, he lifted the fabric from your body, leaving you bare before him. There was no hunger in his gaze, just pure, unwavering adoration.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Then, with gentle hands, he helped you step into the tub, making sure you were comfortable before letting you sink into the warmth.

The heat of the water worked wonders, easing the ache in your muscles, and you let out a sigh as you relaxed. Matt knelt beside the tub, watching you with the softest expression. "Better?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Yeah… much better."

His hand dipped into the water, reaching for the washcloth. "Let me take care of you, baby," he murmured, soaking the cloth before bringing it to your skin. With slow, delicate movements, he wiped away the remnants of the night, making sure to be extra gentle in all the places he knew were sensitive.

Every touch was filled with love, and as he worked, he pressed the occasional kiss to your shoulder, your forehead, your knuckles—silent reassurances that you were safe, that he was here.

When he reached your thighs, he paused. "Tell me if this is too much, okay?"

You met his gaze, and all you saw was pure devotion. "I trust you."

He nodded, continuing with the utmost care, ensuring that every part of you was clean and comfortable. When he was finished, he set the cloth aside, running his hands up and down your arms. "You’re okay, my love. I've got you."

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from discomfort or distress. They were from love—the overwhelming kind that made your heart ache in the best way possible.

"I love you, Matt," you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

His lips curled into the sweetest smile. "I love you more, baby. Always."

And with that, he stayed by your side, making sure you had everything you needed, refusing to leave until he knew—without a doubt—that you were okay.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! I wanted to share this draft with you all. I apologize for the number of Matt fics I’ve been posting lately; I’m really working on expanding my Matt masterlist. It’s hard for me to write him without imagining him as the sweetest, most gentle person ever. I truly appreciate any interactions and feedback!

╰┈➤𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒉𝒊𝒗𝒊

tags- @swagalicious260 @watercolorskyy @coquettechris @lovesturni0l0s @christmastreecake @ellbowmacaroni @blog-luvdance @sophand4n4 @meg4-matt44 @mommymomm @chriss-slutt @humpster35 @courta13 @idkwhatthisis2009 @yourfavoritefangirl @slutformatt17 @watercolorskyy @mylifeisevenstranger @suyqa @junnniiieee07 @thecrawlys @sturniolohohoho @h3arts4harry @fratbrochrisgf @abysful @slvt4chrissturniolo @tezzzzzzzz @surfer-sturn

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo

543 notes · View notes

m-neuvillette · 1 month ago

Text

Star Rail and Genshin Men - Them being protective

Characters: Aventurine, Dr Ratio, Gepard, Kazuha, Kinich, Zhongli x fem reader

Author notes: rude parents in Gepard's, rude comments made to reader in most, creepy men, falling in Kinich's, fighting in Kazuha's, protective men (they are so hot hehehe)

Aventurine

Aventurine is an avid gambler through and through, everyone knows that. He puts everything on the table when betting, his money, his own life, really just about anything. But there is just one thing that he would never ever gamble with. Can you guess what that one thing is?

You two were passing time after you both finished your work for the day and decided to go the casino for some, in Aventurine’s book, light gambling. Though it’s never light gambling when it comes to him, he’s an all or nothing kind of guy.

As you guys walk into the casino you giggle and turn to him, “Hey Aventurine, don’t go too crazy tonight, we still need money for dinner.” Though you know full well that you guys will have enough money for dinner, he is a Stoneheart after all, you enjoy teasing him with his gambling.

He raises an eyebrow and looks down at you before smirking. “Oh ho what’s this? Are you telling me to be careful with my money? Don’t you worry you’re pretty little head over dinner, I’ll be taking it all tonight.” He lightly knocks your forehead with one of his fingers before dragging you gently to a table.

You giggle softly at his antics before sitting down next to him at the table. As time stretches on, and you had a few drinks, you lay your head on Aventurine’s shoulder. You always tell him that his shoulder gives you the best and most comfortable view when he’s gambling.

When he feels your head on his shoulder he looks down at you and smiles softly before lightly pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll only play a few more rounds then we can head home alright dear?” You nod against his shoulder and wish him the best of luck, not that he’ll really need it.

One of the other players at the table look at the interactions between you two and smirks darkly. “Hey, why not for this next round bet your little girlfriend? It’d make for such a good game, and it can be the last game of the night too.” When you hear that your eyes widen and you snap your head up, off of Aventurine’s shoulder, and look around at the table in alarm. Because did that guy seriously just ask if Aventurine would bet you??

Aventurine’s eyes darken at the guy’s “request” before he gets up and slowly walks over to him. “If you think that you can ever suggest that I bet my darling girlfriend and get away with it, you are sorely mistaken friend. I would never bet her and you clearly don’t know what it means to bet someone you love, otherwise you never would have asked that. Now, I suggest that you walk out of here now or I won’t be so kind.”

The guy’s eyes widen in fear before he sputters out apology after apology and runs out of the casino. After that, Aventurine walked right back to you and gives you the biggest hug and kisses you on the forehead. He then picks you up bridal style and walks you out of the casino.

“I’m sorry that you had to hear that my dear. Never think that I would bet you in any gamble, it doesn’t matter what situation I may be in, you are the one thing in life that I would not bet.” You smile softly up at him before burying your head in his chest.

“Thank you Aventurine, that truly means the world to me. Though I may not gamble like you, know that I would never bet you either. You’ve become my home and love, I never want to give that up. I love you my precious gem.”

Once you’re outside, he looks down before setting you down and titling your chin up. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I love you more my shimmering aurora.”

Dr Ratio

You like surprising your boyfriend with lunch every once in a while. It gives him a break but it also lets you two enjoy each other’s company midday. Ratio was having a rough week. His students were not making deadlines, his coworkers bothering him with mediocre conversations, and has barely any time to read due to all the late submissions of assignments. You think that bringing him lunch will cheer him up.

You finished making his lunch and packing it. You slip on your shoes, grab your purse, and grab his lunch then head out to meet him in his office. After the walk to the school you get to the main office to check in and get a visitor badge. You see Mary sitting behind the desk and greet her, “Hi Mary! How are you today?”

Mary smiles back at you and replies, “Hi! I am doing good, it’s a pretty slow day today. But I haven’t seen you in a while, dropping off a lunch for Dr. Ratio again?”

You nod, “Yep. He has been having a rough week so I thought a little break with some good and me would really help or well I hope it helps.”

“He is always in a better mood for the rest of the day after you come by.” Giving you a little smirk and wink. “Here is your pass. He should be in his office now.” You thank Mary and head out the door she pointed to have you go through. You weave your way through the hallway’s to Ratio’s office once you get to where his office is, you see it empty. You realize that he got a new and bigger office since the last time you have come here. You groan forgetting that detail so now you’re left to wandering around trying to find him.

The school is massive and has many twists and turns that you eventually get lost. You keep retracing your steps and following the signs on the walls but nothing is helping. You decide to head back to an area that had multiple hallways to walk down and choose the last one you haven’t walked down yet. Once you get there you start to head down the hallway just as you turn the corner you run into two people.

One person drops all the stuff they were holding while the other spills coffee on the first person. You stand there shocked for a second but start to quickly apologize, “Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry!! Here let me help you pick your stuff up. I also have tissues in my purse you can have so you can dry your jacket.” You bend down to pick up the papers but the man who dropped the papers starts to yell, “DO NOT TOUCH THOSE PAPERS! Did you even think to look at where you are going you idiot? How did you even get a job here if you can’t pay attention to where you are going!?!”

The second man speaks up, “Look she is a visitor. So she doesn’t even belong here. She’s just a stupid every day person, not a scholar.”

You go to stand up again shaking and trying hard to hold back tears. They are being so mean for no reason, no wonder why Ratio hates his colleagues. You begin to speak up, “I didn’t see you because of the corner. Again I am really sorry. Can I please help?”

The first guy scoffs, “You think I want the help from a dumb woman? That’s laughable.” You start to cry and try to stutter out another apology, “I- I just…”

The second guy is quick to cut you off, “You what? You are acting like a child, I know 10 year olds that act better and are smarter than you. Just leave.”

The first guy pitches in, “Yeah you dumb whore, get out of here. No scholar has the time for you.” You hang your head in defeat letting the tears flow down your face. You go to turn around and leave until you feel a strong arm wrap around you and a warmth on your back. Then you hear a low voice you quickly recognize, “Care to repeat that?”

The two men stand straight with their eyes wide open. The first man speaks up, “Dr. Ratio, hello! It’s nothing you have to worry about just some dumb women who doesn’t belong here disrupting our walk from the printer.”

Ratio tightens his grip on you and grits his jaw, “This does worry me because this is my girlfriend.” The two men turn to each other and then look back at Ratio to start apologizing, “We are so sorry Dr. Ratio! It’s just she isn’t paying attention and caused a mess.”

“I do not care about your walk from the printer. I am wasting my time talking to you two incompetent fools but as soon as you decide to insult my intelligent girlfriend thats when I start to care.” The men are shaking in their boots while Ratio continues, “It is not me who deserves your pathetic apology it’s her. You two better make the apology more sincere or I will see to it myself that you two are fired. It’s not like anyone would miss you two.” The men profusely shake their heads and turn to you.

“We are so sorry ma’am for everything we have said. If Dr. Ratio can vouch for your intelligence then we were severely mistaken with our comments. We hope you can forgive us.” You don’t get to respond because Ratio tells them to get out of his sight. The two men scurry off while Ratio grabs your hand and drags you to his office.

Once you two are in his office he shuts and locks the door then turns to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “I am sorry I was not there earlier to stop those absolute fools. I will see to it that they are fired. They were never useful anyways.” You snuggle into his chest more and let out a muffled response, “It’s not your fault. I was just trying to surprise you but I forgot you got a new office so I got lost. I am sorry I caused such a scene.”

Ratio pulls back tips your chin up to look at him, “Do not blame yourself, this is not your fault. Let’s not waste anymore time talking about those fools. You brought me lunch so let’s enjoy that.” You smile at him and he leans down to give you a quick kiss then leads you to his desk. He sits down then pulls you into his lap, “Let’s dig in shall we?”

After eating and Ratio walking you out, you left to go home. Ratio came home a couple hours later telling you that the two men that yelled at you were now fired and gone. He is a man of his word.

Gepard

You met Gepard through Serval. You were looking for a job because you just moved to the city and couldn’t get any other business to offer you a position. You bumped into Serval carrying a couple of boxes into her shop and offered to help her carry in the rest of the boxes. You two talked for a bit about you being “a new face in the city” and how you were looking for a job. Serval then offered you a job at Neverwinter Workshop. A couple days after working at the workshop Gepard came in to have his weekly catch up time but saw you and Serval talking. She introduced you two and the rest is history.

Gepard and you have been dating for a couple months now, it is a little hard with him being the Captain of the Silvermane Guards but you two make it work. Whenever he has free time he is taking you out on dates or just spending time with you. Gepard just got done with patrols so he came over to your apartment. You can tell he is super tired so you give him a pair of his pajamas he has left at your place and then you push him into your bed to rest. That doesn’t stop him from grabbing your arm when you push him down so you land right on top of him.

Gepard’s phone wouldn’t stop going off so he grabbed it from the bedside table and looked at the notifications. You feel him stiffen so you pick your head up and set your chin on his chest looking at him then break the silence, “Is everything okay?”

Gepard gulps and sets down his phone, “Uh so Serval texted me saying how our parents want to meet you.”

You giggle at his reaction, “Okay? That doesn’t sound bad at all. Are you nervous about me doing something?”

He shoots up holding and reaches a hand to cup your face, “No not at all! I am worried about my parents doing something not you. You’re the last person I worry about doing something mean or bad.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Gepard sighs running a hand through his hair, “My parents really care and I mean really care about the Landau family legacy. They were mad I started dating someone that isn’t high status and they think I am ruining the family name. I don’t want them to harass you all night to try and prove their point of view.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be okay. After all you’ll be there right?” You run a hand through his hair and continue, “Plus the more we avoid them, the more they are going to be upset with you so let’s just do it.” Gepard just sighs and nods. He reaches for his phone to tell Serval that you two will meet them for dinner.

A couple days go by and it’s time for the dinner with Gepard’s parents. He has been nervous and jittery all day, and it is starting to rub off on you. Yes, you told him everything would be fine but now that the time is here it is nerve-racking. Are you dressed too casual? Too formal? Do you look bad? Is your makeup too dull? Too extra? Is your hair messy? UGH! This is so stressful. Your thoughts are going a mile a minute until you feel fingers pressing your chin up. You see Gepard smiling at you, “You look beautiful. Ready to go?” Not trusting your voice you nod to answer him. Gepard knows something is off but doesn’t want to push you. He takes a deep breath before leading you out of his apartment. As you two walk to his parents’ house, he can’t wait for this night to be over.

Once you two get to his parents’ house he knocks on the door. The door opens with a maid answering the door, “Gepard, It is so nice to see you again! Oh and you must be his girlfriend! You look lovely tonight. Oh my, it is so cold! Come in you two!” You two walk in and the maid shuts the door, “Gepard, you should have told me to be quiet so you two can come inside and get warm!” Gepard laughs, “Kota, it’s good to see you again. Don’t worry the sun is still up so it wasn’t that cold for us.”

Gepard introduces you two and then Kota leads you to the dining room, “Your parents are in there. Good luck my boy.” She then scurries off before Gepard can respond. He runs a hand down his face, “Let’s get this over with sweetheart.” He pushed the door open to be met with the sight of a massive dining room, a very long table filled with so much food, and his parents already sitting down. You two walk in and Gepard pulls a chair out for you, once you have sat down he pushes you closer to the table. He then takes the seat right next to you. You hear a feminine voice break the silence, “So this is the servant girl you are fooling around with? This ugly woman should be able to sit herself, not need help from someone of your status to help her with it.” You are shocked, she really came out running. You see Gepard clench his fists under the table and respond to his mom, “Do not speak of her like that. Can we just have dinner in peace please?” His mom rolls her eyes and lets out a little “hmph”. You ignore the comment, yes it stung a bit but it can’t get worse can it? You all are going to be eating for most of it so they can’t say anything else right? You all make your plates and start to eat. It is eerily silent until his dad speaks up, “So I heard you work at that junk heap with my daughter?”

You brighten instantly at his comment even though he is clearly making fun of it, “Yes, the Nerverwinter Workshop! Serval is a genius, she’s teaching me so many cool things-“ You are swiftly cut off by his dad, “I do not care about the shop only the legacy of the Landau family name with the Silvermane Guard not this scrap junk crap.” He turns to Gepard, “I still can’t believe you went to an ugly random who has no social status. Why would you settle for a random servant girl who can give you nothing? I am so repulsed by her looks and what she does, how can you even be happy?”

You lower your head and let out a watery and broken, “Sorry, I-“. Gepard then slams his hands on the table and stands up. He first turns to you, “You have nothing to apologize for.” He then turns to his parents, “I have had enough of you two trying to dictate my life with the ‘Legacy of the Landau name’. No matter who I am with the name will be passed down, but I am doing all of this based on how I want to. This beautiful, talented, funny, caring, and intelligent girl is who I want to be with. Nothing will stop me from being with her. I am so happy with her. She is like the sun and lightens up my life just by being there. I don’t care about status or anything of that nature, all I care about is her and my future with her. If you two cannot respect that, then I will never speak to the two of you again.”

Gepard takes a deep breath after his speech then looks at you and gives you a light smile, “Let’s go home, yeah?” You nod and he reaches a hand out to help you up. He leads you to the door of the dining room then his mom speaks up, “You are going to regret this.” Gepard turns to look at her with a murderous look, “I will regret nothing. Never contact me again.” He then leads you out of the house and makes a straight-line for his apartment.

Once you two get into his apartment he locks the door then sweeps you up into his arms. He leads you to his bed then lays you gently down on the bed then hovers over you. “I am sorry they talked to you like that and that I didn’t stop them sooner sweetheart.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You run your hands through his hair again and respond, “It is not your fault. You warned me and I didn’t listen. But it makes me really happy you stood up for me. I love you so much Gepard.” You tilt your head to connect your lips for a slow and deep kiss. Gepard pulls away from the kiss first and opens his eyes again, “I love you more, you’re my everything.”

Kazuha

You have never been to Liyue and Kazuha is super excited to show you around. He told you all about the many different places he wanted to take you and show you many different things. His excitement is bleeding off of him and it’s only making you more and more excited. As soon as you two are off the Alcor you two are off.

The first place Kazuha was the Guili Plains. He knows that you are a big history nerd and seeing where the Guili Assembly would definitely be something that you would love to see. As you guys walk there he points out different parts and explains where he is going to take you later after you go to Guili Plains and then Wangshu Inn to spend the night. You are thankful to all the archons for them letting you be Kazuha’s girlfriend. You feel truly like a princess, he is the definition of a perfect boyfriend.

As you two get to the remains of the Guili Assembly you run ahead out of excitement. You turn to see Kazuha still walking, “Kazuha, hurry!!!” Kazuha chuckles and says, “There is no rush love. We have all the time in the world, so take your time.” You still rush ahead to look at everything. Kazuha pulls out his camera to snap some photos of you and the ruins. As he is snapping photos he feels an unease come over him, he looks around and sees you smiling looking at the ancient writing. He proceeds to look around and hear some people talking, he turns to the left and sees a group of treasure hoarders heading toward you two. Kazuha realizes that you are so focused on the ruins you don’t even see the treasure hoarders coming to you.

You are reading some of the tablets trying to decipher what they say. You then overhear a group of men talking, “There’s gotta be a lot stuff we can steal from here.” Then another person speaks up, “Yeah then we can sell it and make a fortune.” You turn around to face them and respond to them, “Hey! Don’t take anything from here. All the relics here are important to Liyue and its history, it is disrespectful to take the relics and then try to sell it.”

The treasure hoarders turn to face you, “We don’t care. Now get out of our way before we make you.”

You shake your head and tell them, “No. I won’t let you take relics from here.” The treasure hoarders chuckle and start walking over to you pulling out some weapons. You stand your ground but you are scared because you have no fighting background. Before they can get too close Kazuha is in front of you, “I suggest you all leave now.”

“Aw man, you too? Well guess we just have to beat both of you before we can take the stuff.” Says the biggest treasure hoarder carrying a shovel. You think he is the leader of this little squad.

You grab onto the back of Kazuha’s shirt, “Kazuha, what do we do?”

Kazuha turns his head to look at you, “You are doing nothing. Just stay behind me, okay love?” You nod letting go of his shirt and stepping back so he has room to fight. You stand a good distance back so you won’t be caught in the crossfire and have Kazuha not focus. The men run up to Kazuha but he is quick to draw his sword and fly around the area using his anemo vision. He is quick to disarm the treasure hoarders that have weapons and knock the ones that do not have weapons.

The treasure hoarder that had the shovel called out, “Where are those damn reinforcements?!” One of the men points to somewhere behind you calling out to the leader. You turn to see where the man is pointing to and you see more treasure hoarders running over. The leader calls out to them, “Grab the girl and get out of here!” That causes you to freeze in your spot not knowing what to do.

Kazuha knocks out the guy he was dealing with and goes to deal with the second group. But before he can get to you he is pulled back by his shirt and thrown into one of the cement walls. Kazuha groans at the sudden impact but look up to see the leader walking to him and the other group getting close to you. The leader speaks up, “She’s ours now. We will take good care of her.” He says that with a sickening smile and Kazuha stomach drops at the thought. Kazuha jumps up onto his feet and runs to the leader. He draws his sword quick and uses the handle to knock the guy out. Kazuha is panting a little bit but says, “I will not let anyone hurt her.”

The group of guys are getting closer to you and you have no idea where to run. No matter which direction you run to someone will be able to catch up to you. Just as they are about to get closer you feel someone grab onto you and whisper in your ear, “Hold on tight my love.” You turn to bury yourself into your boyfriend. Once he feels you have a tight grip on him he jumps up tightening his grip on you to make sure you don’t fall. Kazuha gets you a safe distance away from the group charging at you and the group that he had knocked out. He lets you go and winks, “I’ll be right back.”

Kazuha makes even quicker work of this group, they all are knocked out before you can even blink. Kazuha goes to walk back to you but here’s someone call out “Hey!” You both turn to face the direction that you heard the calling coming from and see a couple of Milielith running towards you. They stop by Kazuha and ask him what happened after explaining that they were following this group for a while. Kazuha explains the situation while you walk up to the group. The Millielith thank him and say they have it from here. Kazuha smiles then turns to face you, “Are you okay?”

You jump into his arms, “I’m okay.” You then take a minute to think and remember he was thrown into a wall. You pull back a little bit and ask, “ARE YOU OKAY?!? THEY THREW YOU INTO A WALL!! NO PAIN, BLEEDING OR BROKEN BONES RIGHT?!?!” Kazuha laughs and brushes some hair out of your face and presses a quick kiss to your lips. He pulls back and responds with, “I am okay. No pain, no bleeding, and no broken bones. I promise. I am glad you’re okay though. Let’s head to Wangshu Inn and go rest okay? Maybe we can come back here and try to look at it all again before we go back the Alcor.”

You nod and go to reach for his hand. Kazuha interlocks your hands and raises yours to press a kiss on the back of your knuckle, “Then we are off.”

Kinich

After enough begging from you, Kinich finally decided to give you a tour of the Scions of the Canopy. Seeing as you were from the Masters of the Night Wind, you wanted to see what life was like for him in the Canopy and how it differed from the Night Wind. You begged him for what felt like years and you were very happy to see him agree to give you a tour.

You guys met up on the path right outside of the Canopy and to say you were excited was an understatement. You can finally see what daily life is like for Kinich and how different it is from the Masters of the Night Wind. Ajaw though was less than thrilled to have to spend the day with you two “blundering lovesick fools” as he always called you two, and he was not afraid to vocalize his dislike for this little outing.

As you guys started walking into the Canopy, Ajaw decided to vocalize his feelings. “You absolute buffoons! How dare you make the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw suffer through something as meaningless as a measly tour of this godforsaken tribe! You two blundering lovesick fools! I will not stand for this any long-“. Ajaw was very generously cut off by Kinich backhanding him into the sky.

You stopped and giggled before facing Kinich, “Thank you Kinich, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve dealt with that. I really don’t know how you deal with him all the time, he’s such a handful.” Kinich looks at you before slightly tilting his head to the side, “It was no problem. I’ve just learned how to shut him up, he’s not that much to handle. Anyway, let’s go and get this tour done before dinner.”

You nodded enthusiastically and took his hand gently as you guys started to walk again. When you enter the Canopy and look at the scenery for the first time from the bridges of the Canopy, you stopped in place because it was so pretty. You let go of his hand and step closer to the edge of the bridge.

“Kinich! This is such a pretty view! And you get to see this everyday? I’m so jealous, the views from the Masters of the Night Wind are nowhere near as pretty as this.”

Kinich stopped as well and tilted his head slightly. “I guess the view is nice, I’ve never really thought about it. But be careful to not fall from there, your saurian companion may be able to fly a little, but you can’t.” He gently grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him.

You blush a little at his actions and give him a little salute. “Yes sir! I will make sure to not go near ledges. But even if I do, you’ll always catch me right?” He lightly sighs and gently kisses your forehead. “Always.”

You smile softly before turning your attention back to the tour. “Okay let’s continue this tour, I can’t wait to see how pretty the rest of this place is!” Kinich softly smiles and nods his head. “Let’s go then.”

As time goes on you two are walking through the Canopy with Kinich pointing out different spots that are important to the tribe as well as his personal favorite spots. As you two are getting closer to the end of the tour, you saw another view you like a lot and you go to run across the bridge to get a better look.

“Hey Kinich look how pretty this view is! It’s even prettier with the sun setting too! I wish I was born here, it seems so much more-“ You are abruptly cut off by the bridge snapping and you feel yourself falling and you let out a scream. Kinich’s eyes widen in alarm before he springs into action.

He swings down toward your falling figure with his grappling hook and just as you are about to hit the ground his hand grabs you by the waist and pulls you to his chest. He quickly grapples to a safe spot and once you two are on the ground Kinich hugs you tightly.

You have to catch your breath before you say anything, so you bury your face in his chest in the meantime. Once you regain your breath you tilt your head up towards him and softly thank him. “Thank you so much for catching me Kinich, I’m sorry I wasn’t careful like you said to be.”

He looks down at you and gently pushes your face back into his chest. “You have nothing to apologize for my dear. I should’ve noticed the bridge was not safe. But no matter, I’m glad I caught you.�� He sighs softly before whispering, “I don’t think I could handle seeing anyone else fall to their death.”

Your eyes widen at his reference to his childhood and you snap your neck up at him, “Kinich I will promise you this, I will never ever leave you, especially in that way. I will always be here and you’ll always be here to catch me if I fail. I love you Kinich.” He sighs once more and tilts your chin up and softly kisses your lips.

“And I love you my dear.”

Zhongli

You stand in front of the mirror with your hanfu on. It is a brown base color with gold and white highlights, you got it to match with Zhongli’s outfit. Zhongli was invited to a banquet by one of the historians that love to hear his stories. The historian told Zhongli to bring anyone he would like so as soon as he got home he invited you to the banquet. You take a good look at yourself in the mirror and look over yourself one last time. The hanfu looks great on you, you are really happy with the job the seamstress made. You then check your makeup to make sure nothing is smudged or looks off.

You hear footprints coming from behind you and then feel two hands on your waist. You turn in Zhongli’s hold to face him, you then take in his appearance. He Is wearing his normal attire but he still looks incredibly handsome and you make your thoughts known, “You’re very handsome.” Zhongli chuckles and tips your chin up to look him in the eyes, “Thank you darling, but I am not wearing anything different. You on the other hand look absolutely breathtaking, I can hardly keep my eyes off of you.”

You smile big at his compliment, “Thank you baby, I was just thinking about how great the seamstress did! By the way, what is the banquet suppose to be like?”

Zhongli lets go of your waist but goes to grab your hand to lead you out of his house. As you two are walking to the banquet he answers your question, “Well the gentleman that invited me said it is going to be filled with a bunch of scholars and historians. I was confused why he invited me since I just find enjoyment in history and don’t do it for a profession, but he insisted there were a lot of people that wanted to meet me. It seems that you and I will be meeting a lot of new people tonight. I hope that this night will not be boring for you.”

You squeeze his hand to get his attention, once he looks at you, you speak up, “I am never bored when you are around. Seeing you talk to people about your knowledge of history is really heartwarming to see, and I would do anything to see it.” Zhongli smiles and looks ahead, “You really are a gem.” You blush at his compliment and squeeze his hand three times to indicate you silently saying ‘I love you’. He squeezes your hand three times back sharing the sentiment.

It takes you two another 10 minutes to reach the venue where the banquet was being held. You two wait a little bit in line making small talk while waiting to get to security. Once you get to security Zhongli says his name and yours, once the security guard finds your names on the paper in his hands he steps inside saying “Enjoy your night.” Zhongli thanks him for the both of you and leads you to the main area. As soon as you two are in the big ballroom you see a lot of people already start making their way to you.

Many people greet Zhongli and start to ask him questions before he can even introduce the two of you. They are asking him his opinion on certain battles that happened, relics that were left behind, or his theories about the adeptus. Since there is so much commotion by you two your hands slip out from one another. Well there goes your boyfriend in the sea of hungry historians and scholars. You knew he was going to be popular but you didn’t expect them to barely enter the room before jumping him for answers.

You stand to the side but still close enough you can see and hear Zhongli. You then hear a feminine voice that calls out to him, “Zhongliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!” You turn to see a girl running to your boyfriend and jumping on him. You don’t recognize her but it rubs you the wrong way with how touchy she is with him. You hear Zhongli clear his throat then remove the girl off of him, “Hello Mei. What are you doing here?”

The girl tries to touch him again but he is quick to avoid it, “Zhongli! Why are you avoiding me? Ugh never mind, but I am here because I heard you were going to be here! Let’s hang outttttt.” A worker walks around with drinks and she grabs two and then holds one out to Zhongli. Well you deduce that this girl is obsessive. Zhongli grimaces, “Oh I see, but I am here with my girlfriend and want to spend time with her.”

You watch her clench the drinks and say, “Ohhhh you have a girlfriend, you never told me!” You then make your way to Zhongli and stand next to him. Zhongli turns to you and you see his eyes light up, that look really makes your heart race. He looks back at Mei, “Yes I have. I actually have told you multiple times.” Zhongli then introduces you to her and she gives you a nasty look, “Are you even a historian?”

You shake your head, “No, I am a baker. Besides all the history I learned in school, I mainly get my history knowledge from Zhongli.” That only makes her look get even more nasty and turns back to Zhongli and asks, “Why would you waste your time with a girl who doesn’t study history? You could date me instead.”

You stare at this girl shocked she would even say something like that. You turn to look at Zhongli and see him seething, his jaw locked and eyes narrowed at her. Before either of you respond she walks over to you and says, “I might have a way to fix you.” She then takes the drinks that are in her hands and pours both drinks on you. Your hair ends up becoming wet and gets all over your hanfu. You stand there frozen almost in tears before you can start crying Zhongli is in front of you taking off his jacket and wrapping it around you.

He connects your foreheads and stares deep into your eyes, “Keep your eyes on me, okay darling?” You nod not trusting your voice but a couple tears do manage to slip down your face. Zhongli is quick to wipe them, “Darling, you are the most breathtaking person I have ever seen. Don’t listen to what a random person says, their feelings do not dictate mine. I only want you as my girlfriend and I already have our future planned out. I do not care that you are a baker over a historian. You have so much passion in your job and I love tasting everything you make. Teaching you history is a thing I cherish and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You are mine and I am yours.”

You smile big at his confession and throw yourself at him. Zhongli effortlessly catches you and hold you tight to him. You then whisper in his ear, “Thank you. I love you so much.” Zhongli then pulls back and places one hand on the back of your head pulling you into a slow and passionate kiss. After you two separate he whispers back, “I love you so much.”

Zhongli’s expression then hardened and turned back to look at Mei, “Say anything bad about her again and you’ll regret it. I never want to see you again.” Mei nods her head and walks away. Zhongli then turns back to you and smiles, “Let’s go home and have some ice cream. I will take your hanfu to the seamstress tomorrow to see if she can fix it.” He holds his hand out to you once again and you are quick to grab it. He leads you out to the venue back to his home to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The next day Zhongli came back to you with a fixed hanfu and a couple new ones.

#aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #gepard x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x reader #kazuha x reader #kinich x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

420 notes · View notes