#so if I messed it up please do not hesitate in letting me know
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leona-hawthorne · 3 days ago
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hiii, i’m hannah! congrats on 1k! i love your writing you totally deserve it❤️❤️
i’d like to order an herbal tea please ma’am. my fav hogwarts class is potions and i’m a slytherin.
thanks soooo much!!
thank you ml!!! i hope you like this 💌🤍
1k celebration navigation latte art
ミ★ THANKS?… mattheo riddle
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The air was thick with the earthy tang of crushed herbs and a faint hint of smoke, remnants of a botched potion someone had abandoned earlier. You leaned over your cauldron, carefully adding a pinch of powdered asphodel, watching the mixture swirl into a soft, luminescent green. Professor Slughorn had excused everyone twenty minutes ago, but you stayed behind to perfect the Draught of Living Death. It wasn’t just about the grade—it was the principle. You had a reputation in Potions to maintain.  
From the corner of your eye, you caught movement by the supply cupboard. Turning slightly, you noticed Mattheo Riddle. He was crouched down, rifling through jars and bottles with a carelessness that made you wince. A faint scowl tugged at your lips as he grabbed a jar, inspected it for half a second, and then tossed it back onto the shelf with a dull clink.
“You know, smashing Slughorn’s ingredients probably won’t get you out of homework,” you quipped without looking up from your cauldron.  
“Homework?” His voice came smooth and low, like the first sip of spiked butterbeer. “Do I look like someone who’s worried about homework?”  
You rolled your eyes, glancing at him. His tie was nowhere to be found, his shirt untucked with the sleeves pushed up to reveal ink-stained forearms. He stood, holding a vial of unicorn horn dust like he’d found some priceless artifact, and smirked when he caught your gaze.  
“Well, you’re clearly worried about something,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the mess he was leaving behind. “Unless this is just your idea of helping.”  
Mattheo wandered over to your table, lazily swirling the vial between his fingers. “Helping isn’t really my thing,” he admitted, leaning against the edge of your workspace. “But I am curious—what’s got you brewing that after hours? A little light poison-making for fun?”  
“It’s for the Draught of Living Death,” you said, turning back to your cauldron. “And if you don’t stop distracting me, I’m going to need it for myself.”  
“Touché.” He chuckled, setting the vial down on the table with an unnecessary flourish. “But, for the record, you’re stirring it wrong.”  
You froze, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?”  
“Clockwise, not counterclockwise,” he said, arms folded smugly. “Slughorn’s book is wrong about the order. If you stir it counterclockwise now, the powdered asphodel reacts too quickly with the valerian root. Your potion will split before it settles.”  
You stared at him, torn between annoyance and genuine intrigue. “And you know this… how?”  
He shrugged, a cocky tilt to his head. “Let’s just say I’ve had some practice.”  
“You? Practice?” You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “What’s next? You’re secretly top of the class?”  
“Hardly,” he said, grinning. “I’m just very… hands-on with my learning.”  
There was a flicker of something genuine in his tone, enough to make you hesitate. Against your better judgment, you switched your stirring direction, watching as the potion’s surface rippled and settled into a perfect, glassy stillness.  
“Well, would you look at that,” you muttered, begrudgingly impressed.  
“Don’t look so surprised.” His voice was teasing, but his smile was softer now. “I can be helpful when I want to be.”  
“Guess there’s a first time for everything,” you said, turning to meet his gaze.  
He was closer now, his dark curls falling haphazardly into his eyes as he watched you with a mixture of amusement and something else—something quieter. For a moment, the usual sharp edges of his presence seemed to soften, and you felt an unexpected warmth creeping up your neck.  
“Thanks, Riddle,” you said, fighting the stupid smile finding its way onto your lips.
He winked. “Call me Mattheo.”
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daisymbin · 5 hours ago
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21. "we should bake something together—it’ll be a disaster, but fun."
Vernon has a craving for chocolate chip cookies and asks reader for help. lots of fluff and very domestic pls 🙂‍↕️
omg I love this....thank you for requesting this ahh!!!!
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list
fluff prompt #21: "we should bake something together—it'll be a disaster, but fun."
hansol stood in the doorway of the living room, biting his lip nervously. he shuffled his feet a little, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to ask. you looked up from your book, giving him an expectant look.
"hey," he started, his voice soft. "want to bake something with me?"
you blinked, a little confused. "bake? really? you hate cooking."
"yeah, well..." he scratched the back of his neck, glancing away for a second. "i was thinking... maybe we could make chocolate chip cookies? it’ll probably be a disaster, but, you know, fun."
you raised an eyebrow, setting the book down. "fun? you do realize you can’t even make toast without burning it, right?"
"hey, that was a one-time thing," hansol protested, his eyes widening with mock offense. "i was just distracted."
you snorted, crossing your arms. "uh-huh. distracted by what? nothing burns toast like that except for someone who’s not paying attention."
he pouted, his bottom lip jutting out dramatically. "there's a good 90% chance that I was probably distracted by you. now, come on. please? i promise i’ll make it up to you if it’s a mess. i’ll even clean up afterwards."
you sighed, feeling your resolve crumble. hansol could be annoyingly persuasive when he wanted to be. "fine. but if the kitchen ends up looking like a war zone, you're cleaning it up."
"deal!" he said with a bright grin, practically bouncing on his heels. "it’s going to be a fun one, i promise."
as you both headed into the kitchen, hansol started pulling ingredients out of the cabinets with such enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but laugh. flour, sugar, butter—he was setting it all up like he’d done it a hundred times before, even though you both knew he hadn’t.
you grabbed the chocolate chips from the counter. "you know," you started, "it’s kind of weird that you suddenly want to bake. you’ve always said cooking’s a pain."
hansol paused mid-movement, glancing at you with a sheepish smile. "well, yeah. it’s not really my thing, you know? but..." he trailed off, his gaze softening. "i don’t know. i guess i just... want to spend more time with you."
you blinked, surprised by his sudden honesty. "spend time with me? we spend time together all the time."
he shifted his weight, looking down at the counter, clearly trying to find the right words. "i don’t know... lately, i feel like we haven’t really... been doing things together, y’know? with all the schedules and work, it’s like i’m always busy, and i miss you. i miss hanging out with you, just... doing something simple." he gave you a small, almost shy smile. "so i thought baking would be a good excuse."
you felt your heart soften at his words. he’d always been so busy, always on the move. the rare moments when he was home, really home, felt like treasures. you smiled at him, walking over to where he stood, and lightly nudged him with your shoulder. "you really do miss me, huh?"
"yeah," he said quietly, a little sheepish but undeniably sincere. "i do.
you chuckled, brushing a stray piece of flour off his cheek, and reached for the mixing bowl. "well, how can i say no to that? let’s make these cookies, then."
hansol’s face lit up with a grin, his earlier hesitation vanishing. "really?"
"yeah," you said, feeling your heart flutter at his excitement. "let’s make a mess. we’ll burn a few cookies along the way, but it'll be worth it."
"yes!" hansol cheered, practically jumping into action. "this is gonna be great, i swear."
the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, flour dusting the air as you measured out ingredients and mixed them together. hansol was surprisingly good at cracking eggs without making a mess, though he did drop one onto the counter once and laughed it off.
"well, that’s one egg down," he joked, looking at the mess on the counter like it was no big deal. "but hey, we're getting there!" he quickly reassures you.
you laughed, shaking your head. "we’ll be lucky if the cookies don’t end up as hockey pucks."
"nah," hansol said, confidently. "i’m a pro at this now. we got this."
as you mixed the dough together, hansol snuck a piece of chocolate chip dough, only to be caught red-handed by you. "hey! no eating the dough yet," you scolded with a laugh.
he made a face, his mouth full of dough. "but it’s so good!" he protested through a mouthful. "you can’t blame me for sampling."
you rolled your eyes but smiled, pulling out the baking sheet to spoon out the dough. "just make sure the cookies are actually edible. that’s all i ask."
you both giggled your way through the whole process—laughter filling the kitchen as you dropped spoonfuls of dough onto the tray. even when a little flour splashed onto hansol’s shirt, he just grinned like it was all part of the plan.
when the cookies were finally in the oven, hansol leaned against the counter, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "thanks for agreeing to do this with me," he said quietly. "i know i can be a pain sometimes."
you reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "you’re not a pain. i’m glad we did this. it’s nice... being here with you."
he smiled, his eyes lighting up. "i like it too. i like being with you."
the timer went off, and the two of you rushed to the oven, pulling out the tray with the cookies that were perfectly golden brown. well, mostly perfect. a couple were a little overcooked, but they were still good.
"they’re beautiful," hansol said with a grin, holding up one of the cookies as if it was a masterpiece.
you took a bite, and despite a slightly burnt edge, the warmth and sweetness hit you just right. "not bad for a first-time baker."
"i told you," hansol said, with a wink. "disaster, but fun."
you laughed, taking another cookie and handing him one. "definitely fun. and maybe not such a disaster after all."
hansol smiled, a little shy but warm, as he reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "i’m really glad we did this," he said softly. "i missed you."
you squeezed his hand back, your heart swelling. "me too, hansol. me too."
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pale-opal · 1 month ago
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Little Update On Collision Course
So how this is going to work is that I'm going to give out some general updates first, and then after that I have few things I want to show you. So let's get started. 1. Collision Course 2: Electric Boogaloo has an actual title now: Second Strike.
2. Some minor edits were recently made to First Impact. Specifically: - Chapter 4 was edited so that Shadow Man's dialogue is more consistent with the rest of his appearances (I realized he called Zero "boy" and "my dear boy" (like he was Wily or something) even though he did that nowhere else in the fic. And he called him the latter like... three or four times. It was awful. But it's okay. It's fixed now. Which means that I am now free). - Vesper Woman's civilian name is no longer "Fortissimo". I have changed it to "Chord", because I feel like it fits the name schemes better. Both Chapter 24 and the second author's note of Chapter 25 have been corrected accordingly. 3. As of today, I am halfway through Second Strike's backlog (15/30)! (I am aiming for a release date this month, with early November being the worst-case scenario. But no concrete dates yet. You know how life is sometimes.) To celebrate this ✨momentous occasion✨, I have decided to do this (this is what I said I wanted to show you):
*Throws out-of-context snippets at you* *Runs away* (All of these are in order, so if you want to take a stab at deciphering what the plot is, be my guest, lol) (Also, I recommend clicking the images for better quality)
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If you have any questions you would like to ask or anything else you would like to say, please feel free to!
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chuluoyi · 4 months ago
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄
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- sylus x reader
more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)
note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')
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“Missus, please spare us!”
You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.
“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”
“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”
“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”
You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.
“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”
“—?! Missus, please!”
“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.
Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.
Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”
And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."
Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."
Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?
“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”
Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”
Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.
“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”
“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”
Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.
And so, you went up to him. However...
“...Are you single, miss?”
Here we go again.
You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”
The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”
This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.
This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.
“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”
Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”
The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”
This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.
“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”
“No, no! I mean it!”
He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.
The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—
He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”
“Oh...”
And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?
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Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.
That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.
For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.
Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—
You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.
A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.
“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”
He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.
—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.
. . .
“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”
“I do.”
“Then, will you play with me?”
Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.
You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.
"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.
That was the last straw. Enough is enough.
Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.
“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—
“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.
After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.
"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"
"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.
"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."
His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.
"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.
Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.
Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—
“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”
“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.
But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.
There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.
“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.
But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.
You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?
“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”
“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.
“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”
You shook your head.
You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.
You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.
For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.
“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.
So needy and pliant… for him.
“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”
Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.
But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”
He shot you an irked glance. “No.”
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“He calls me by your bird’s name.”
“...”
“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”
“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”
Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.
Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.
“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—
Neck. You realized in horror.
“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”
“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.
"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"
You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"
"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"
Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.
"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.
“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.
"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"
Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"
It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—
“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”
It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!
His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"
He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.
You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—
“Stop thrashing!”
“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.
“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”
You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”
But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.
“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.
“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”
Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.
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When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.
It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.
Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.
Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?
You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.
“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.
Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.
“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”
“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”
Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”
“Just who do you think I am?”
“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”
Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”
“Sylus!”
If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...
“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.
This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”
“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”
Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”
You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.
“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”
You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.
“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”
“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.
Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”
“Wait!”
You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”
Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.
“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”
This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.
He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.
“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”
His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.
After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.
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Epilogue
"Do you hear anything?"
"No, nothing..."
Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.
“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”
The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.
"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."
"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."
“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”
Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.
“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”
“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”
As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.
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lxnarphase · 9 months ago
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want me to give you another one? ๋࣭ ⭑⚝
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☾₊‧⁺...ft : gojo satoru + geto suguru + fushiguro toji + ryomen sukuna
☾₊‧⁺...cw : breeding kink, praise kink, spit kink, reader gets called 'mommy', dirty talk, teasing, overstimulation, satoru goes insane from pussy, suguru wants a girl this time, toji being in love with his wife, sukuna doesn't like when people insult his soon-to-be-wife, sukuna is dating single mom!reader
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i really wanted to do the 'our baby is so cute, i want another one' 'yeah? you want me to give you another baby?' trope so here we are ❤︎ i couldn't think if i wanted to do others but if you'd like more please let me know ! ❤︎ also, the toji one ? is actually a sneak peek of a longer fic i'm working on ehehe
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✧ g. satoru : it starts off with you nuzzling in satoru's arms as he watches tv. satoru notices that you began to get clingier after you put your baby girl to bed. every night, you would press against him as if you wanted to merge with him and he couldn't help but tease you about it. so when he feels you nipping his neck and your hand running under his shirt? when he hears you oh-so sweetly whisper, "don't you want to give me another baby, satoru?" into his ear? he's eagerly nodding, ready to do whatever the mother of his first baby wants. but instead of letting him on top...you climb over him and that look in your eye tells him everything he needs to know : he's fucked.
"baby, baby, baby, please," satoru whines, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. he feels like he has no control of his hips, he's so sensitive, but he can't stop fucking up into you. not when you're like this, practically buzzing with need and crazed energy. "c'mon, s'toruuuu," you purr, hands splayed out on his chest. "cum f' me again? please, honey, you only came once, 's not enough." the room is hot, both of you covered in a sheen of sweat. how long have you both been going? he didn't remember, he lost count of how many times his hips desperately pressed up, shooting his hot load into your wet, needy pussy. but you just wouldn't stop. not that he minded, but fuck, you were making him so brainless. he can feel his thick cum gushing out of you each time you lift your hips, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the mattress. "h-hah, it's so fucking messy," he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming again. "f-fuck me, baby, t-there's so much cum, y'r pussy is so fuckin' sloppy." you just won't stop milking him, your soft and wet walls massaging him as you moan just from the feeling of being filled up again. god, you were making him insane, what got into you— his eyes snapped up to you when he felt the wet drop of one of your tears on his chest. those pretty lashes of yours were getting wet with tears as he felt your thighs starting to shake, a weak moan leaving you. "c-can't," comes a pathetic sob, your hips desperately grinding down on his cock, moaning when you feel it throb. "c-can't stop, 'toru, 's not enough, i need it, n-need it so bad!" when you finally look at him and make eye contact, he feels like he's been shocked because you look a mess... "give me another baby, 'toru, i want another one, gimme another one, please—!" with no hesitation, his feet are planted into the mattress and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he pounds into your dripping cunt, feeling himself cum just from the wail you let out into his ear. but he doesn't stop, he can't stop, not when his wife, his honey, his baby needs him to knock her up again so badly. "'m gonna give you whatever you want," he pants, his skin feeling like he was touching a live wire. "give it t'you 'til 'm empty, baby, gonna fuck you good, make sure it sticks, just like you, f-fuck, like y'want, yeah?" he feels you nod frantically against him, unable to speak from the way his cock drilled up into your pussy, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. "y-yeah, you want that, you fuckin' want that, s-s'just take it, baby, let me give you another fuckin' baby."
✧ g. suguru : your son had just turned one so you and suguru let his nieces, nanako and mimiko, come over to have a little celebration. seeing the way you cared for the twins and your baby boy the entire day made him think. his son was still a baby and had a lot of growing, but he knew the kid would look just like him with a few of your features. he's always wanted a girl, and helping his sister take care of the twins as they grew up only made the desire stronger. the two of you mentioned having another baby at some point, but the rest of the week, all he could think about was trying to get you pregnant again, maybe give you a girl this time...who knows, maybe he could fuck you so good you'd have twins.
"aww...i know, i know," suguru coos, his hand pressing into your tummy. that condescending smile on his face just makes you melt under him. he's slow and methodical with how he fucks you, like he wants you to remember every vein of his cock, how it curves up just perfectly that it nudges that spot where his hand is pressing down and makes you keen. his smile morphs into a knowing smirk, his free hand rubbing your thigh. "you're such a pretty mommy, princess. do you know that?" suguru's so sweet, he's so soft, he's treating you like your the most fragile thing on the planet. he sooo slowly grinds himself into you, his hand giving another little push down on your tummy. he's so sweet to you, such a loving husband... but you know. you can see it in his eyes, the hunger and deviance swirling around in those purple irises. he's getting you soft and pliant, melting into the bed as he praises you where he knows your weak. "taking such good care of my baby, aren't you? ," he praises. his hand is so warm as he starts to rub up and down your stomach. "such a shame the geto genes are so strong in the men. however." your breath hitches when he pulls all the way out before shoving his cock all the way in down to the base. you can't help the soft moan of his name, watching him lean down closer so that he's right over you. "the girls in my family always look like their mommy. what do you think, pretty girl? d'you wanna try? want to see if i can give you a girl?" as soon as you nod, suguru fully leans over you, using his arms to hold himself over you and he really starts to fuck you. he's merciless, managing to keep that stupid fucking smile on his face as his balls slap against your ass. "she'll be so pretty, just like her mommy, so so so fucking pretty," he coos as if he isn't making tears drip down your face. he loves seeing his baby like this, so sweet and pretty for him. "okay, angel. 'm gonna give you another one, gonna flood this cunt alllll dayyy longgg."
✧ f. toji : toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you. yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things. but god, did he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid he gave you. so when megumi tells you both what he wants for his birthday...“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly. “but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.” little brat. toji doesn't hesitate to let megumi have a sleepover with yuuji the next day, dragging you into the bedroom as soon as he gets back home.
“you want to give the kid a sibling, hm," he hums against your mouth, teeth tugging on your lower lip. you feel how hot the tip of his cock is as he rubs circles into your clit with it, smearing his precum all over you. "wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?"  you just hummed, a little breathless. your hand came up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. “mm, honey, you've gotta stop asking questions you know the answer to,” you cooed, guiding him down closer so you could press a kiss against the scar on his lip. “don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.” after those words left your pretty little mouth, toji let out a laugh of disbelief, his mind instantly realizing that you, being a little minx, were 100% going to give him the worst breeding kink ever. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum, and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick.  toji easily flips you over onto all fours and lines himself up with your slit. when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet. god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it messed with his head. you were almost too good to be true. each thrust he gave had you seeing stars, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you. it was almost too much, but you didn’t want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth. “shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ. c'mon, throw that ass back on me, mama, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushed him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full. he coos when he sees you beginning to jolt up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. that's he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes. "tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”
✧ r. sukuna : it honestly is his fault this happened, he's being snappy with one of the parents at the birthday party of your son's friend. sukuna knew better, he should've just ignored the bitch, but the comments she's making gets under his skin. "she hasn't given you kids of your own yet? that's too bad, i would've let you do that as soon as you proposed," she tries to flirt, batting her lashes at him. it just makes him sick. did this fucker not see the way sukuna looks at you? "oh, you probably don't know if she's the one you want to mother your kids, right," the woman next to him says, putting her fucking hand on his arm and he shoots her the meanest glare. "not everyone is mother material, but i-" "hey, we're leaving," he interrupts when you walk up to him, slapping the woman's hand off him as he gently wraps his arm around your waist. "i texted yuuji, that's why he's watching our kid for the rest of the day. c'mon."
sukuna is devouring you, his mouth unforgiving as he runs his tongue up and down your pussy. he's pissed, the way his tongue laps angrily at your folds as if your pussy is the reason he's upset. "fuckin' bitch," he snarls, spitting onto your clit before sucking on it. "thinks she can talk to my wife like that." you shakily gasp when he finally, finally looks at you, the sharp anger in his eyes making you shiver. you can tell he's not upset at you, but seeing him so riled up and knowing that he's using you to get it out of his system does something to you. "you know your mine right? that you're stuck with me 'til the day we die," he asks you, his thumb replacing his mouth as he rubs firm circles into your clit. "i'm your husband. you're my wife. you are fucking mine." he's about to say something else, but he stops, letting out a heavy sigh, subtly shaking his head. you catch it though, you always do. "suku, what's wrong," you shakily ask. "y-you can...can tell me, baby, what's wrong? did something ha-" "let me get you pregnant," he says, his voice low but desperate. he's moved from between your legs to over you, and you can see he's so hard, the tip of his cock an angry reddish-purple. "don't you want to give our son a sibling?" your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask that. having a kid with him...honestly didn't sound that bad. and the way he called your son 'our'...it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but give him a sweet smile and nod. "okay, 'kuna, we can start trying if you are sure. i'm still on birth control, but—sukunaaa!" he doesn't give it another thought, sliding all the way into you until his hips are flush against yours. he feels the way your arms wrap around him and scratch at his back, and as good as it feels, sukuna needs you to give him complete control. pulling your arms off him, he laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the mattress before rutting into you, the slap of hips against yours almost angry. "don' care about the birth control," you hear him growl, his eyes burning into yours. "'m gonna fuck you so fuckin' full of my cum that it bypasses it. it's got no fuckin' chance with how many times i'm gonna breed this cunt." the way he's talking to you, it makes your head spin and you know he feels how you clench down on him with the way he groans. "gonna fuckin' show everyone how good of a mom you are, gonna get you all swollen 'n' round with my kids," sukuna groans, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each snap of his hips. you can't help but look at him with those big eyes, disbelief and infatuation swirling in them. he likes this look on you, you just look so fucking in love with him, and it's all for him, just for him, no one else, just fucking him. "yeah? y'like that? that i'm gonna have a lil' family with my wife? give you as many kids as you want, 'n' all y'gotta do is take my fat cock as i breed you 'til it takes."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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ellana-ravenwood · 1 month ago
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“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader
Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.  
Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do : 
Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.
My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives
________________________________________________
“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing. 
And that it was utterly...evil. 
“It’s going to be FUN !” 
Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family. 
“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish. 
“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.” 
Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.
Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile. 
“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point. 
Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed. 
“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”. 
And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes. 
Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise. 
************
Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters : 
“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”  
Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby. 
A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore). 
And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl. 
Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne. 
Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children. 
That was happiness then, right ? 
So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”). 
And that what’s made him particularly evil. 
He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !). 
And he knew they were a little worried about him. 
He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family. 
They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad. 
Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried. 
And Bruce knew. 
You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan. 
Why tell them, when you could toy with them ? 
“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise. 
Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours. 
This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves. 
It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them). 
It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit. 
So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her. 
Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it. 
Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby. 
She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family. 
And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms. 
Evil. Your husband was downright evil. 
He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW. 
And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”. 
************
“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself. 
None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...
Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin. 
Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing. 
Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?
The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??
WHAT ?! 
They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation. 
They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.
Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him. 
Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them). 
It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children. 
Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated. 
Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.
Like today. 
The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird. 
Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least. 
And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ? 
How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...
Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image. 
The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy. 
Odd. 
Yet, sweet. 
Were they surprised ? Yes. 
Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely. 
Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too. 
Were they happy for him ? For sure. 
Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to. 
Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky. 
Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!” 
***********
The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter. 
“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her. 
She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter. 
Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-
Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards- 
“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness. 
You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most. 
Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-
Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away. 
Damian. 
Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously. 
He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends. 
************
Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her. 
Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.
Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ? 
Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family. 
Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”. 
You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice). 
You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life. 
But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking. 
Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon). 
************
It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them. 
Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes. 
They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.  
Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly. 
Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”. 
After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes. 
Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-
Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her. 
And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course). 
“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh. 
“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born. 
You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together. 
************
Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him. 
She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman. 
He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason
Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that. 
He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-
He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to. 
Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it. 
You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA. 
************
“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable. 
Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ? 
“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”
“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.” 
Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people. 
Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time. 
Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest). 
It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed. 
Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him. 
As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone. 
************
Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents. 
She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements. 
Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted. 
Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really. 
Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to. 
She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...
Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart. 
And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too. 
Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least). 
************
Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions. 
As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep. 
He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...
But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too. 
And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace. 
He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little. 
So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him. 
He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ? 
It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way. 
You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and- 
Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept. 
And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel. 
Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture. 
Seriously. That guy !! 
************
Batman smiling was...different. 
They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-
Well. Broad. 
It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes. 
It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say). 
And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much. 
As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine. 
It made them all feel...soft. And warm. 
It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it. 
That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love. 
Because he loved his parents, his city, and now- 
His family. 
It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that. 
A loving man, who wanted to protect others. 
************
You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all : 
1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate. 
2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !
3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons). 
4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction. 
5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower. 
6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child. 
7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy. 
8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah. 
9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world. 
10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant- 
Oh it meant so much. 
And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters. 
Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious- 
All positive feelings. 
And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them- 
Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh. 
Oh it felt like you would die of happiness. 
And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly. 
He knew. 
He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again. 
He knew. 
He never loved like that before. 
Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.
__________________________________________________
And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :). 
Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ? 
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anantaru · 4 months ago
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・✶ 。 synopsis — capitano loves teaching his darling how it feels to receive pleasure by a real man <3
warnings — inexperienced reader & naive ?? reader, petnames used: good girl, size kink/size difference, age gap ? (he's mentioned as being older), fem! reader <3
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the thought of capitano teaching you about pleasure and passion was unbelievably hot to the point where you couldn't wait for it to happen again and again.
yes, he's older and more experienced than you, so of course you believe whatever he tells you and certainly won't question all of the depraved things he'd ask you to do, the harbinger obviously know better than you do, correct? these thoughts never failed to echo in your mind as you found herself alone with capitano, the strongest and mysterious harbinger whose very presence sent your mind in a daze.
he towers above your smaller frame with his dark eyes piercing through the dim light of the room, the silent command in his gaze strong enough to send an entire army to its defeat.
you couldn't lie to yourself, especially not when it came to him— and you felt a thrilling mix of fear and anticipation as he sank inside for the first time, making your pretty mouth part with a high gasp as he pressed himself through your tiny hole— first his thick tip splitting you open, then his inches rubbing through you, his movements deliberate and controlled yet never too much where it could hurt you.
although before he proceeds, his scarred hand reaches out to your face, gently tilting your chin up to meet his focused eyes.
"you must trust me, you're aware of that, correct?" capitano's deep voice resonates through you, each word a promise of what was about to come as he begins to thrust into you gently, his next following words accompanied by deep grunts and groans, "only then i will teach you on how to receive the pleasure only i can give you."
you nod immediately, eager to feel more, your heart pounding in your chest as his experience in the bedroom was certainly undeniable— not only that but it was sexy, hot as the flames of a pyro user as the authority in his voice made you ache to comply, to please him too with all you can.
the rush of excitement at the prospect of being guided by someone who knew exactly what he was doing was enthralling as your body showed him such, and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd notice just how hard and messily you're squeezing him right now, your pussy drooling and messing him up until he knows he's yours.
his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "wrap your legs around me," and begins to instruct, his voice a low growl that made your back arch up immediately.
without hesitation you obey, your legs encircling his broad waist as the closeness was beginning to turn intoxicating, feeling like minutes before you could feel true solace as you felt the strength of his body pressing against yours the more he'd add on speed and strength.
"good girl, very good," he murmurs proudly, his breath hot against your skin as one of his hands slowly slide down your sweat covered stomach before reaching your clit, "now, relax, alright? let me show you how to feel every touch, every sensation of me,"
his hand moves with practiced ease on your clit as he pinches it, tugs and teased it, rubbing over the pearl and igniting a trail of fire wherever he applied pressure the most as your body was responding to his every touch, your senses heightened by the sheer dominance he exuded.
"focus on my touch," he commands softly, your hips curving upwards so that you'd be able to get his cock to sink even further inside of you.
"feel how your body responds to me,"
capitano fucks you with purpose, tugging your hips deeper onto his cock with every grind as your legs begin to shake, the blur in your eyes making it difficult for you to see anything more than his panting demeanor— not only that but his cock was huge, splitting you apart like he's meant to do that, as if there was nothing more than this moment in your life which was deemed important.
the warmth of his drags against your walls pooled into your veins and flesh as his cock fucks and fucks and lets you squeeze his inches in and out until you end up hiccuping of being so full and satiated, almost feeling stupid as he sent currents of electricity straight to your core.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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whisperofwonder · 3 months ago
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Continuation of this
fem!reader x Kuroo Tetsurou
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You smile at your reflection in the mirror as your maid of honor tucks one wayward strand of hair back into your updo. In less than an hour, you'll be walking down the aisle. You wonder what Tetsurou's face will look like when he sees you. You wonder if he'll cry. He'd insisted he wouldn't, but, well.
"You look so gorgeous!" One of your bridesmaids breathes, and truthfully, you'd have to agree with her. The hair dresser and makeup artist have worked their magic, and you'd found the absolute perfect dress. Now, all that's left is to wait until the ceremony begins.
Your friends' fawning over you is interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes?" Your maid of honor moves to stand by the closed door, hand hovering over the handle.
"Babe," The voice belongs to none other than your soon-to-be husband, and you instinctively cross your arms over your front, even though the door is still firmly closed. He can't see you before the wedding!
"I need you to tie my tie!" You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"You know how to tie a tie," You call back carefully. "Just do it yourself!"
"But you always tie my tie." His voice is the next thing to a whine.
You sigh. "Where's Kenma?" Surely his best man didn't allow this. You wonder how he managed to slip away.
"Kenma is 'sick of my shit'," He intones, and you can practically hear the words in Kenma's voice. You sympathize. "Baby. My love. Please." He's begging now, and you can't help it. You start to soften.
Your maid of honor is looking at you with wide eyes, slashing her hand across her throat in a clear gesture: NO. You love her for that, but still.
"You'll close your eyes?" You ask in your sternest voice. "You can't see me, you know! It's bad luck."
"Yes, I'll close my eyes! Promise."
"Close them TIGHT," You insist, making sure he understands the gravity of the situation.
"They're tight," He promises. "Open the door already."
You nod. Your maid of honor hesitates for a few moments, but slowly swings the door open with a shake of her head.
There he is. Tetsurou. Your fiancé. In less than an hour, your husband. You feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. He wears a suit every day, but he looks especially handsome in this one. The tie in question is draped loosely around his neck.
"Babe?" He has his eyes squeezed shut, that much is obvious. As an added measure, your maid of honor pulls him inside and moves behind him, pressing her fingers across his eyes.
"Go ahead," She sighs. You reach for the tie, carefully straightening it around his neck. You reach for his collar, making sure it's turned up all the way around, and you watch as a smile begins to tug at his lips.
"I'm so excited," He murmurs as you work. "Can't wait to see you." The fingers covering his eyes tighten.
"Me too," You can't help the smile that's stealing across your own face. "I can't wait."
You begin making the knot, enjoying the dopey grin that's now completely filled his face. "There you go," You finally say, giving the knot a pat. "Perfect." Like always, you tug on the tie, just a little. Tilting your chin up, you lean into his kiss, savoring the feeling of it.
"I love you so much," He murmurs as he pulls away. "Thank you."
"I love you too, Tetsu." You take a step back, just drinking him in. "I'll see you soon."
He opens his mouth, but before he can drag the moment out any longer, your maid of honor steps in. "Okay, lovebirds, that's enough." She pulls him back. "Get back to wherever you're supposed to be. I'll kill you if you mess this up," She threatens sweetly.
"Yes ma'am," He murmurs as she shoves him back through the door, slamming it shut nearly in his face.
"You two make me sick," She sighs. The mushy smile on her face doesn't match her words at all. "Come here, let me touch up your lipstick."
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staryuee · 3 months ago
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WHAT THEY DO WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE!
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꒰warnings꒱ not proofread, dainsleif/pantalone may be ooc (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . just cute habits, actions etc that they do, whether intentionally or not, after being struck with cupid’s arrow.
⠀꒲ ` characters . . . jean, diluc, zhongli, xiao, nilou, xianyun, dehya, wanderer, arlecchino, pantalone, dainsleif
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . scrolling through the genshin tag makes me wanna die sometimes…i’m trying to do investigative work and i have to quickly scroll past the same smutty language like it’s booktok torture + also i’ve been playing baldurs gate 3 for the past several days and i think i’ve developed a problem…
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G. JEAN — 琴
ʚ jean is very subtle in the way she loves someone, she doesn’t want to keep it secret per se, but her love is always almost adjacent to a puppy crush; something that seems fleeting but in the long run returns harder and hits oh so much worse.
ʚ she can’t necessarily abuse her powers, and she wouldn’t dare dream of messing up the order she so carefully has managed to maintain, so the way she tries to convey her feelings across isn’t too brash or loud.
ʚ simple things like letting her hands brush against yours when she passes you documents, allowing you to visit her office whenever you please even if it’s to just sprawl down at a nearby couch and read a book you found in the library while meandering, and even letting you join her on her daily walks across the courtyard.
ʚ during windblume festivals she won’t hesitate to strike up a seemingly harmless and friendly conversation, all the while sneaking a flower into your hair that resembles the feelings you stir up inside her fuzzy heart.
ʚ jean is overall quite an awkward person when it comes to anything related to romantic or plantoic ties, she’s a bit of a people pleaser in that way where she prefers to assume everyone’s a friend before an enemy… or in this case, “interested”.
ʚ with backup and sought guidance from her good friends lisa and kaeya, she’ll try a myriad of tactics to get you to notice her; a little shoulder massage there, a heartfelt sticky note placed on your workstation there, inviting you to classic candlelit dinners etc.
ʚ yes, believe me, she even tried the cartoonish “rose bit between teeth and uncomfortably arched side lean on a wall” approach before deciding it’s much better to listen to herself than the flamboyant duo.
R. DILUC — 迪卢克
ʚ diluc is the actual epitome of a gentleman. his love is so pure and genuine you can’t help but flower press every petal from the various bouquet he personally delivers to you on special occasions (anything from you completing a particularly hard or draining mission to doing something you thought you’d suck at).
ʚ his coat is also yours now. it’s like a six sense at this point to notice when you’re shivering out in the cold winds, and it’s become even more of a routine for him to simply shed that fluffy coat of his and drape it appropriately over your shoulders, trying to maintain a comfortable distance between you two as he adjusts it both to ease your tension and assure the pounding of his heart goes unheard.
ʚ diluc doesn’t enjoy using his riches to woo someone, it’s uncouth and just shows a desperation unbecoming of someone who dates to marry. if he wants to know you’re in it for the long haul, he’ll be much more sensitive and thoughtful when picking out gifts for you, each them have to hold some level of significance in your life.
ʚ the whole fiasco with his poor maids and some sneaky, perverse stalkers and diluc’s flaming great sword certainly applies to you as well; he’ll quietly ensure your safety in the night, helping you walk home with his arm hooked under yours, and in broad daylight he won’t hesitate to swing that polished wolf’s gravestone of his against any onlookers.
ʚ diluc is extremely closed off but deeply sentimental, he can so easily find himself rambling about his childhood stories to you; anything from how he used to collect seashells with kaeya to bring back to their dad, or how him and jean used to let baby barbara braid their hair together while babysitting…to things that are slightly more troublesome and heart wrenching to even mutter.
ʚ he may be less vocal than most in terms of feelings, but that doesn’t mean he won’t commit to it if he’s in love with someone. diluc isn’t the slightest bit dumb, he understand in order to get his feelings across he needs to do more than take random days off to spend time with you, he needs to at least hint it in a way that clearly gets his intentions across.
ʚ believe me, whenever you come by to dawn winery per notice, everyone raises a brow at you with curious smirks and gazes as diluc nearly stumbles on his words to get the phrase: “you look lovely tonight” out.
ZHONGLI — 钟离
ʚ he has up to thousands years of romantic customs under his belt, he understands the vague signs and ways to further communicate how much he adores you.
ʚ … that would be the case in its full if not for the fact for the first thousand couple years of his life he wasn’t busy maiming other gods and shedding blood. safe to say, his memories of mortal “courting” is slightly, if not absolutely, a massive, weaving and overlapping trail of various centuries and cultures he’s been accustomed to; anything ranging from the days when khaenri’ah was still in its prime to nowadays with newfound slang.
ʚ he’ll recite the most beautifully heartfelt and awfully sincere poem all the while you’re fighting your life in a haunted house (he’s heard this activity is helpful to get couples closer to one another, and given the fact you’re clinging on for dear life at the edge of his coat, he assumes he’s on the right track!)
ʚ he wants to impress you while also maintaining an air of genuineness to his actions, and while that does sometimes end in awkward situations where he ends up wearing regal attire to what’s supposed to be a casual dinner at wangmin, his heart remains completely pure in its endeavours.
ʚ oh, let’s not forget this man is quite literally a dragon too!
ʚ sometimes he can forget you don’t have the same complexion as him and will proudly present you some sort of glimmering relic from his hoard, forgetting that certain materials that existed back in the day were deadly and or toxic for mortals to touch let alone possess.
ʚ with a little nudge in the right direction, he’ll quickly learn everything there is to know for how to properly handle your precious heart. whatever you’d like, you may have — if it’s within his reach, that is. but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop at what’s available, no, just how much he’s willing to risk for you.
XIAO — 魈
ʚ he’s already embarrassed and awkward enough with accepting the fact he likes you, so accepting the fact that he loves you had left him with a lengthy exorcism spree down in some forgotten areas in liyue (it didn’t help).
ʚ in all honestly, not much changes; both because he’s rather emotionally constipated but also because he’s more than sure he’s loved you for longer than he seems to currently acknowledge.
ʚ letters that came only on special occasions like your birthday or his became much more frequent and a lot less poetic, it felt more like he was writing about his thoughts at the time, a little akin to how you’ve made him feel less constricted and much more free; he can finally have the courage to step out of his comfort zone.
ʚ all those small acts of love he used to subtly express (i.e gifting you two crystaflies, personally inviting you to come hang out, etc) he manages to double, he can’t have you thinking his intentions are the same as before. no, they’re much stronger now.
ʚ his guard softens around you regardless, but when you randomly fall asleep on his shoulder on your weekly visits at wangshu inn, instead of taking you to one of the rooms, he’ll sit there and allow you to rest, and if he’s assured you’re not awake to ridicule him, maybe, just maybe…he’ll sneakily loop his arm around your waist.
ʚ even just the thought of you makes him spiral into daydreaming, sitting atop a tree and swinging his leg back and forth carelessly as he stares up at the night to await for a new light, knowing full well the only sun he wants to see is you…just imagining his hands holding your waist like they did so long ago makes him shiver (hopefully this time he’ll get to do it when you’re not falling, and instead are falling for him)
NILOU — 妮露
ʚ nilou is basically a disney princess, if you see her singing to random birds that come watch her performances, everyone in the grand bazaar already knows it’s because you’ll be in the crowd that night.
ʚ each step within her routines are done with the little more passion, if that even is possible given her character, all because she imagines that pride and hopeful heart eyes in your eyes as all the attention is on her.
ʚ sometimes this fixation can lead to dumb mistakes on stage which bring her to sulking away with a hand on her forehead dabbing away at the sweat, but even the mention of your name as you pass by several sumeru streets is enough for her to brighten, do a quick wardrobe switch and run off to tackle you within her embrace.
ʚ nilou is not loud, but definitely not subtle. the exact representation of how she feels when you come to encourage her at her lowest (though those days are few). you’re there for her in ways you don’t imagine, and that alone is enough for her to daze away into the night as she cuddles her pillow, legs wrapped around it and all, and begins thinking about the what ifs of your relationship.
ʚ sometimes it’s a little comedic the way she speaks about you, it almost sounds like she’s reminiscing about a fictional book character with how much she takes pride in whatever little thing you do. no one tires of seeing her footsteps lightly tap against the ground in circles as she gushes about how when you complimented her the other day, you touched her cheek seemingly subconsciously ∩^ω^∩
XIANYUN — 闲云
ʚ she’s a little embarrassed at just how obvious she can be sometimes, it doesn’t help the fact her own children keep using this love of hers to their advantage.
ʚ she keeps nagging them about not taking care of themselves (she’s all too keen about their health and whereabouts now that she dwells alongside liyuean people) and yet just the mention of your name has her slightly stuttering in a ditzy trance as she hooks her glasses back up her nose bridge.
ʚ without hesitance, she’ll show you a photo album she has of all those close to her; would you like to see the drawing little ganyu made when she just barely had her horns? or perhaps the polearm young shenhe broke when she miscalculated her own strength in training?
ʚ her family is her pride and joy, it’s only natural for her to want you to be part of it even if it’s something as silly as raking through photos of a chubby ganyu eating the stem of a flower or teeny shenhe napping on a tree.
ʚ a peaceful life mingling with mortals has left her with ample time to enjoy the trivialities of life, and yet she finds her mind all too quickly wandering to you; had you been taking care of yourself? were you feeling lonely? did you need her to make something for you?
ʚ a secretive worry wart that quickly becomes that ancient adetpus she used to pride herself as soon as your delicate hands accidentally brush against hers; suddenly she’s perked up, chest heaven up high with a confident hand on her shoulder: you wouldn’t even think that flurry of pink hues gushing across her cheeks was real if not for the light providing evidence.
DEHYA — 迪希雅
ʚ oh she’s absolutely ecstatic!!
ʚ there’s genuinely nothing better than love in her eyes, especially just having the ability to love and trust someone fully when you haven’t been able to do so for a plethora of years.
ʚ doesn’t try to hide it, like at all, if anything she makes it rather obvious with the way she constantly pulls you closer as if you were already an item, arms constantly clinging onto you and your sides or her hands messing up your hair as you greet her.
ʚ she’ll take you anywhere you ask, free of charge of course (just promise to smile…and maybe if you’re up for it give her a kiss on the cheek, that’s sure to be enough reimbursement).
ʚ she’s already quite a confident and outwardly friendly person (if the price is right that is) but when in your presence? what’s wrong with just a little bit of showing off…
ʚ dehya needs you to see the best side of her!! maybe then you’ll finally give in and realise that her constantly asking for you to come join her on her travels and commissions isn’t brought out of mere timed coincidence
WANDERER — 流浪者
ʚ i saw that a few people were upset and confused by wanderer’s sudden switch up into being more kind/friendly, but i think we all forget what kind of person he was before his betrayals.
ʚ he loves wholeheartedly, if he adores something it consumes him in a warm pit of mushy domesticity — he doesn’t hate love or being kind, he hates the way it makes him vulnerable and the way it reminds him of the way he used to be.
ʚ that also means he’ll completely ignore you, or, try his best to rather.
ʚ wanderer knows within his heart that he completely years for you, just the accidental slip of his gaze meeting yours makes his brain go haywire, sending volts of electricity down his spine — you make him feel so alive.
ʚ it’s terrifying to return to a person you once were especially now with the knowledge of how being the way you were lead to some sort of tragedy, he’s managed to build up these walls so high and here you were, sneaking in through cracks he didn’t even know he had.
ʚ and he both loves it and hates it; loves the fact he can still feel, but hates how he’s so easily susceptible.
ʚ loving you turns into self-loathing and brooding, his feet pacing up and down every street at night to clear his muddled head. small distractions like taking strolls in meadows or sleeping up in the vines of trees lead to just thoughts of you and you alone.
ʚ wanderer refuses to be overly friendly and buddy-buddy with you even if he’s aware that if you decided to just one day hold him sincerely he’d burst into tears, but he can compromise with being less cutthroat.
ʚ “shut the fuck up” turns into him just rolling his eyes at you as you ramble (he soaks up any piece of information he can and locks it away), items you gift him now are more apparent in their value as he yells at those who dare question the dumb aranara pin you bought him and placed sneakily on his hat…oh and he gives you hat privileges.
ʚ it’s raining? …get close to him so you don’t begin complaining about the way the rain feels on your skin.
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
ʚ she starts treating you less like an asset in her “contact if in need of assistance” roster and more like a friend — of course, she maintains that distance between you two, but she lets you wriggle around in her heart to see if you manage to fit.
ʚ chances are, you will — unknowingly she’d grown to love you in ways that may have even gone unnoticed by her given how natural they were; inviting you to random gatherings when the whim arises, pulling your chair out for you when out for brunch, or even tucking away strands of hair and twirling it around playfully.
ʚ arlecchino’s love isn’t something immediate or expected, she’s a woman who keeps every card close to her chest and her children even closer, you have to prove to her that you’re worth it, in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean spilling blood but more so answers the question: do you care, and are you willing to accept her blinding love?
ʚ it’s like a shepherd dog with a lost lamb, but that little sheep is just you, and she’s a wolf in need of a muse.
ʚ cute tea parties aren’t uncommon with the two of you, she’ll happily let you indulge yourself in treats as she leans back with scorching tea in her hands while memorising every curve of your lips as you chew and swallow, she loves watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and the little sway from side to side you occasionally do as an expression of joy.
ʚ once arlecchino notices that she’s began treating you as another authority figure in the house of hearth, she’ll reach and collar you gently, intertwining her dark, cursed hand into your flowery one.
PANTALONE — 潘塔罗涅
ʚ one of the most attractive qualities a man can have is knowing when to shut the fuck up and to slide his card over during a dinner — both such things pantalone can do effortlessly, especially when it comes to you.
ʚ arlecchino claims that: “he allows his actions to be governed by the vengeance and hatred locked in the depths of his heart.” something that definitely translates into his love affairs in more than obsessive manners.
ʚ don’t be afraid of the massive hauls of clothing and sparkling jewellery galore that are being trudged in by multiple men, darling, it’s just a menial souvenir from his latest travels and newfound connections that he thought you might enjoy ^^
ʚ while his grandeur usually stems from his deep hearted desire to overthrow the imbalance between immortals and mortals, rest assured the luxury he provides you purely stems from his desire to make you his.
ʚ whether that entails you being his pet for him to seek comfort from on the occasion or a genuine connection where he can comfortably hold you at night purely depends on you.
ʚ oh, you’ll let him chew your ear off about his recent expedition and extravagant plan? consider your rent payed for the next few months and a few kisses on your cheek that certainly aren’t actually part of the snezhnayan custom (let him indulge in those little cravings or else he’ll undoubtedly be petty).
DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布
ʚ has a breakdown.
ʚ a little dramatic, but honestly if his entire life wasn’t a disgusting mess already, you’ve come to make it worse. fate is deliberately mean to brooding blondes it seems, given the fact he’s now stuck pacing around back and forth on a trail of dead abyss mages as he rereads a letter you’ve sent him weeks ago.
ʚ everything you give to him, everything you say, do, write, whatever, he remembers implicitly. each word you say is engraved into him as if they were important artefacts regardless of how pointless and mundane.
ʚ it can honestly get a little…scary at times? you’ll mention liking something once and all of a sudden you find it within your possession at least a few weeks later.
ʚ dainsleif doesn’t have enough time to wallow in the glory of mushy, all consuming love despite desperately wanting to imagine how your hand would feel caressing down past each of his scars, but what he can do is protect you, and to him that’s a greater blessing than intimacy he knows will end eventually.
ʚ a big tough man who would honestly fold the moment you call him any variation of a pet name, specifically with the word “mine/my” at the beginning — hey, it’s nice knowing you mean something to someone the point they view you as inseparable.
ʚ the timings at which he comes to aid you are all too convenient and believe me he’ll try his best to downplay it as coincidence, all the while he’s breathing heavily both from the face your eyes are scanning his so closely and the fact he used up so much energy to merely make a portal to sneak into your space.
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©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ
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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago
Text
Show me where it hurts (part 2)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
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GIF by aenhanse
(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist
summary: You confront Miguel.
warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!) 
a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.
wc: 4k ish
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You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door. 
You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.
He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets. 
"You shouldn't be here." He strains. 
Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?" 
All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."
Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat. 
"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."
He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"
You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp. 
Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive. 
It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."
You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy." 
He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "
You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?" 
He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum. 
He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."
You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head. 
"What makes it feel better?" 
Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-" 
"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this? 
"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."
"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."
His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-" 
"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes. 
"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."
He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."
You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter. 
You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."
Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it. 
"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better." 
He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit. 
"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "
You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."
It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face. 
"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods. 
Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause. 
"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again. 
Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard." 
"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me." 
"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?" 
"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you." 
"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand. 
How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.
Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help." 
Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-" 
You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum. 
Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy.  Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him. 
It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips. 
"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy. 
As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know. 
He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry. 
"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."
With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure. 
"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.
Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong. 
You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver. 
"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."
" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-" 
He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip.  Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it. 
"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out. 
" Miguel, fuuuck." 
How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised. 
"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit. 
He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities. 
"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."
You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure. 
"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."
With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body. 
One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light. 
And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back. 
Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.
"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this." 
You look at him in your haze, brows knitted. 
"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though." 
"Better , Miggy?" 
"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."
You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous. 
"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."
As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- " 
"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature. 
"Let-" Smack. " Me-"  Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack. 
You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell. 
'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure. 
"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."
Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another. 
"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist. 
He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.
Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand. 
"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another. 
"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.
"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?" 
Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit. 
You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."
~~~
"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious. 
The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily. 
You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom. 
"You didn't either." You throw back at him. 
"That's not th-" 
"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."
His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-" 
"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"
"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you. 
"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-" 
"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. 
"...I don't understand."
"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."
You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this? 
"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."
With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always. 
You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say. 
"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."
"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile. 
Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to. 
"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?" 
Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"
"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."
"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."
"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest. 
"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."
"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."
"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."
He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.
"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."
_
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brewed-pangolin · 4 months ago
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Early morning workout Johnny who makes it a habit to run by your house every day at the stroke of 9.
He's got your routine down to a science. He's not a creep, he just likes a schedule. As do you.
He knows you'll be out on your porch by 8:45 with your cup of coffee. Just in time to watch him stride down through your cul-de-sac like some muscle wrapped machine.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Giving him a courteous wave, to which he politely returns with his own and million dollar smile. Sipping your warm brew, his sunlit silhouette disappearing in the distance to turn down the next street.
Except it all changes one fateful morning.
You weren't on your balcony. No coffee mug on the table. Not a single shred of evidence you had been home at all, other than the car in the driveway.
He makes one circle. Then another.
And another.
After the fourth, he's running low on fumes and you're still nowhere in sight. And amidst the fog of a draining runners high, he miscalculates his steps and smashes chest first into your mailbox.
Hurdling down with a thud, a few choice explatives that alert the neighbors and jolt you from the sleep you had been so deep within on your couch.
"Holy shit! Are you okay?" You call out, swinging the front door open. Hair a messy mop. Shirt warn and wrinkled and a thick crease running along the circumference of your cheek.
Soap is nothing more than an apologetic mess. Battling with a mud ladened 2x4 and peppered with an array of junk mail and enveloped bills.
"M'good, lass. M'good."
"You sure? That mailbox is basically destroyed. You must have hit it pretty damn hard."
You reach down, giving him a hand up to which you are given the strongest grip you have ever felt. Playing off a wince with a smile, letting your eyes take him in while he brushes off a layer of dirt and grass.
"Aye. Bulldozed straight into it. Sorry bout tha'."
You have off his apology, taking a gander at the damage and mentally beginning to plan out the finances to fix it.
"I can get ya a new one. If ya let me."
His deep brogue interrupts your thoughts. Raising a brow and a hand to block the bright morning sun.
"No, don't worry about it. It's an easy fix."
"Nah. Please. It's the least I can do, lass. Besides. I am the one at fault ya know."
You hesitate only for a moment. The blue of his eyes mirrored by the sunlit sky behind him. Feeling a certain pull towards him, as though those morning waves had cemented a bond that was only beginning to solidify in the morning sun.
"Okay."
"Aye? I'll be back after yer shift. 530 right?"
You push aside the fact that he knows your work schedule as he reaches out for a friendly handshake. His grip less firm, more cordial. Gentle, even.
"Yeah."
--
After an unremarkable shift that you wish to push deep into your memories, you sit out on your balcony with a refreshing drink in hand. Taking in the hard determination of your mailbox destroying neighbor as he singlehandedly hammers it into the ground.
You had offered to help, to which he emphatically responded with a solid 'no'.
"You've got good taste."
Your seal of approval is all he needs. Taking a welcome cold beer from your hands with that million dollar smile and a final hammering to cement the pillar into the soil.
"Thought it'd fit the style a yer home. Glad ya like it."
You begin to realize this runner is a man who misses nothing. His choice of mailbox color not too dissimilar to the one of your preferred coffee mug. The shade matching almost perfectly, only shifting in hue by the extravagant sunset.
"You hungry?"
Your politeness thankfully overshadows the sudden flush erupting within your chest. You'd blame it on the alcohol if he asked, but you know he'd see right through it.
Dinner starting innocently at the table, shifting seamlessly towards the living room and finishing the main course in your bedroom. Coming to a close in a cacophony of growls, moans, and the aroma of sex.
The pièce de résistance being the loud creak of the bed, falling to the floor in a heap of laughs and entangled bodies as he broke your walls and nestled himself into the chasm of your soul.
Under the Blue Moonlight Masterlist
Drabbles Masterlist
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zomb-core · 5 months ago
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۫ ꣑ৎ A TRIM || carl grimes x female reader
summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.
(intended lowercase)
warnings: mentions of losing a parent.
pure fluff
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“a trim, got it?”
carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.
you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.
he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”
“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”
he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”
you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.
you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”
“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.
you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.
the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.
you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.
the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.
eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.
“what do you think? did I do okay?”
he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.
“it looks great, thank you.”
your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,
“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”
“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”
he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”
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daisymbin · 5 hours ago
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20. "you can braid my hair if you want."
jun thinks reader’s hair is very pretty and wants to try styling it for them 🩵
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // jun's m.list
fluff prompt #20: "you can braid my hair if you want."
jun was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly while you sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him, brushing your hair. the soft swish of the brush was oddly calming, and jun found himself glancing up every now and then, his gaze drawn to the way your hair caught the light.
"your hair’s so pretty," he said suddenly, his voice soft and a little dreamy.
you paused mid-brush, turning to look at him. "thanks," you said, a little shyly, though his compliment made you smile.
"no, really," jun continued, sitting up a little straighter. "like... it always looks so nice. i don’t know how you do it."
you laughed, shaking your head. "trust me, it’s just a lot of brushing and hoping for the best."
he leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of the couch. "i’ve always wondered what it’d be like to braid hair. it seems kinda fun."
you looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "you want to braid my hair?"
"maybe," he said, grinning a little but clearly not joking. "if you let me."
you turned back to the mirror in front of you, brushing through a particularly stubborn knot as you considered it. his sudden interest in hairstyling caught you off guard, but the thought of jun sitting there, carefully braiding your hair, sounded oddly sweet.
"okay," you said after a moment, setting the brush down. "you can braid my hair if you want."
jun’s eyes lit up like you’d just given him the best news of the day. "really? you mean it?"
you laughed at his enthusiasm, scooting over to sit on the floor in front of him. "yeah, but i’m not responsible for whatever mess you make back there."
"hey, have some faith," he said, sliding off the couch to sit behind you. "i’ve seen enough hair tutorials online. i got this."
"you’ve watched hair tutorials?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him.
he gave you a sheepish smile. "well, sometimes they pop up on my feed, and they’re kinda relaxing to watch, you know? besides, now it’s paying off."
you rolled your eyes fondly and handed him the brush. "just... be gentle, okay?"
"of course," he said, his voice softening as he took the brush. he started working through your hair carefully, his movements a little hesitant at first but surprisingly gentle.
"your hair is so soft," he murmured after a while, almost to himself.
"thanks," you said, your voice quieter now. it was strange, feeling his hands in your hair, but it wasn’t unpleasant. in fact, it was... nice.
jun, on the other hand, was hyper-focused. he parted your hair into three sections, muttering something about symmetry under his breath. his brows furrowed in concentration, and you couldn’t help but smile at how serious he was taking it.
"you’re really into this, huh?" you teased lightly.
"shh," he said, waving a hand dramatically as if to shoo your words away. "i need to concentrate. this is an art form."
you giggled but stayed quiet, letting him work. his fingers fumbled a little at first, but as he got the hang of it, he started braiding more confidently.
"i think i’m doing it," he said after a while, a hint of pride in his voice. "it’s actually looking pretty good."
"i’ll be the judge of that," you said, craning your neck to try and catch a glimpse.
"no peeking," he said quickly, gently turning your head back forward. "you’ll ruin the surprise."
you laughed but obeyed, letting him finish in peace. when he tied off the braid with a hair tie he found on your wrist, he sat back with a satisfied sigh.
"done," he announced proudly.
you reached back to touch the braid, surprised at how neat it felt. standing up, you went to the mirror to inspect his work.
"jun!" you exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "this is actually really good."
he grinned, looking as pleased as if he’d just won an award. "i told you i could do it."
you turned back to him, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "you’re way too proud of yourself right now."
"can you blame me?" he said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his hands. "i’ve unlocked a hidden talent. next time you need your hair done, you know who to call."
you rolled your eyes but smiled. "okay, hairstylist junhui. i’ll keep that in mind."
he stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "but seriously," he said, his voice quieter now, "thanks for letting me do that. it was... nice."
you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. "it was nice," you agreed softly.
his grin returned, bright and boyish. "so... what do you think? should i start charging for my services?"
you laughed, lightly swatting his arm. "don’t push it."
he caught your hand, holding it gently for a moment before letting go. "okay, okay. but seriously... your hair’s really pretty."
"and you’re really cheesy," you replied, though the warmth in your voice betrayed how much his words meant to you.
jun just smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart flutter. "maybe. but you like it."
and, well, he wasn’t wrong.
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jaysng · 5 days ago
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when you have to go on bed rest — park sunghoon
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frustrated and emotional reader, stuck on bed rest during pregnancy, opens up to caring husband, sunghoon. overwhelmed, she asks him to hold her, seeking solace in his embrace as he gently reassures her, reminding her of her strength. [wc. 1.4k]
PAIRING. husband!sunghoon x preg!wife!reader
GENRE. reader is feeling hurt, so angsty fluff
NOTE. this has been sitting in my drafts for about a month now and i’ve been contemplating whether to post it or not.. but here i am guess
you hated being on bed rest.
every minute of it felt like a punishment. you were used to being on your feet, handling things your way, but now you were confined to your room, relying on everyone else to do what you couldn’t. and while your logical mind understood that it was for the baby, the emotional weight of it all was suffocating.
you sat propped against the headboard, arms crossed, staring out the window like it had personally wronged you. the ache in your back had returned, your legs felt stiff, and your mood was steadily getting worse.
the sound of the door opening broke you out of your sulk. sunghoon stepped inside, holding a glass of water in one hand and a small plate of sliced fruit in the other.
“you didn’t eat much earlier,” he said, setting the plate on the bedside table.
“i wasn’t hungry,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.
he frowned slightly but didn’t push. “you still need to eat something.”
you sighed, glancing at the plate but not making a move to pick it up. the simple act of eating felt exhausting, and your frustration only grew.
sunghoon lingered for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed. he didn’t say anything, his gaze quietly observing you.
“what?” you snapped, sharper than you meant to.
he shook his head, unfazed. “you just seem upset.”
“of course i’m upset, hoon!” you burst out, throwing your hands up. “i’m stuck in this stupid bed all day. i can’t even get up to get my own water. my body hurts. my head hurts. and—” your voice wavered, “—and i feel so useless.”
his expression softened, but he didn’t interrupt. he just let you spill it all out.
“i can’t even…” you trailed off, your hands trembling as you clenched them into fists. “i don’t know. i feel horrible. and i don’t want to talk about it, but i can’t keep it in either. i just—”
you broke off, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill.
sunghoon hesitated for a split second before shifting closer, his hand hovering like he wasn’t sure if you wanted to be touched.
“can you just… hold me?” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. “please?”
his eyes softened further, and without a word, he slipped his arm around your shoulders, gently guiding you against his chest.
the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing—it was grounding. you let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as the dam finally broke.
“i feel like such a mess,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him.
“you’re not a mess,” he said quietly, his voice calm and certain. “you’re just overwhelmed. it’s okay.”
his hand moved slowly, rubbing soothing circles on your back. he didn’t try to fix anything or offer solutions—he just let you cry, let you feel.
“i don’t know how much more of this i can take,” you admitted, your voice cracking.
“you don’t have to take it alone,” he said simply. “i’m here.”
it was such a sunghoon thing to say—straightforward, without unnecessary embellishments. but somehow, that made it more comforting.
“i hate being like this,” you whispered. “so… weak.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his brow furrowed. “you’re not weak,” he said, his tone firmer now. “you’re growing a whole human inside you. that’s… incredible.”
you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “doesn’t feel incredible.”
“doesn’t mean it’s not,” he countered, his fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “and even if you feel like you’re falling apart, it’s okay. i’ll hold you together, for as long as you need.”
you looked at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his eyes.
“thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.
he didn’t respond with words, just wrapped his arms around you again, holding you close like you were the most important thing in the world.
and for the first time that day, the frustration in your chest eased, just a little. enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this.
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togament · 5 months ago
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sakura. nirei. kiryu. togame. ume. pt. 1
You ask him innocently. Of course, being the good partner that he is, he leans in to inspect. But then you meet him in the middle in for a quick peck on the lips. How would he react?
𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, semi-suggestive stuff so proceed with caution, GN!Reader! (as always if I do miss something, please don't hesitate to let me know!), THE DARKSIDE OF THE SUN THAT IS NIREI AKIHIKO PLEASE BE WARNED, Togame is a lovesick fuck (and we love that), language (it's me), UME IS ADORABLE AJSDKJASKD SOMEONE HOLD ME THE FUCK BACK!!!!!
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𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.
"wh--!!! H-hey! You can't just do that!"
✦ your boyfriend whisper screams at you, face already red as a tomato (it never fails to amaze you how quickly he blushes so deeply), hand gripping yours softly but firmly in place just in case you might do something else. You can't help but giggle at how much he's freaking out. It's adorable.
✦ Absolutely, absolutely, at loss for words. If anything, he's just sputtering. Bicolored eyes staring at you with furrowed brows and you can just TELL he's planning about doing something in retaliation. He is. Just you wait.
✦ Gotta pray you both are in public because once he gets you alone? UH OH. He's pouncing on you, pinning you down onto the nearest surface to press a lingering kiss on your lips, tongue darting out to trace the seam of it. OOOOoOOoo You're gonna get it now.
"..you're gonna pay for that."
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𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈.
"!!!!! b-b-bunny!!"
✦ much like Sakura, your man is an absolute sputtering mess. But you can tell he's trying his damn best to keep it together. If this were any other time, he could have been prepared for this, y'know?! Please warn him next time oh my god he might end up collapsing from sheer shock.
✦ You pat his back soothingly, leaning in to press more kisses on his reddened cheeks to whisper apologies and soft giggles into his skin. You can feel him smiling. Thank goodness! He lets out a cute little satisfied sigh and you smile against his cheek, pressing even more kisses into it. little did you know....
✦ Oh but before you feel like he's gotten over it, he's gathered enough nerves to let his fingers search for yours, threading his between them, another slightly trembling hand cups your cheek and you can feel his breath fanning against your lips. Swallowing dryly, he lets out a shaky breath. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he leans in closer, heavy lidded eyes staring you down as he blurts out,
"...can I check again just in case? Please?"
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𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.
"you're so bad."
✦ you can hear him purring almost, skilled fingers now wrapped around your waist, caressing and kneading your flesh. Before he tries anything else, he looks into your eyes, looking for assurance that he's doing the right thing, reading into it correctly. YOUR MAN KNOWS BOUNDARIES AND YOUR LIMITS HE WON'T DO ANYTHING UNTOWARD AND UNSAVORY TOWARDS YOU UNLESS YOU ASK HIM TO OH MY FUCKING GOOASDIHASD--
✦ you kind of feel like he saw through your silly little prank though by how he let out an affectionate little huff when you asked him. Of course he knows you don't have any dirt on your face. He couldn't keep his eyes off you even if he tried to. He'd wipe the dirt away before you even felt something, really. (Plus you may or may not have forgotten he pulled this prank on you before...)
✦ But once you give him the go ahead with you leaning into his touch, he takes that as a sign. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before taking your hand in his to press butterfly kisses onto your knuckles. Oh the jealousy the onlookers must feel right now.
"It's getting kinda late out, no? Wanna head home, love?"
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𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.
"oho? Wanna try doing that again f'me, dolly?"
✦ OF COURSE HE ASKS YOU TO DO IT AGAIN. You don't, of course. But that doesn't mean that'd wipe the smirk off of your man's lips. If anything, he's gone bolder. You've awoken the beast, baby. He's glancing at your lips then back into your eyes with those damn emerald greens of his OIUUUhhuUHGhh!!!!!!!!! He doesn't care who's looking or where you both are right now. He's way too in love with you to even give two shits about who's looking lmao what're they gonna do????? STOP HIM FROM LOVING ON HIS BABY???? FUCK OUTTA HERE.
✦ he lets out a hum, leaning into you more to tease you a little more. How dare you pull away to match his teasing just as he's inching closer to you? How dare you deny your man the pleasure of kissing you?!!!! A large hand reaches behind you, relaxing at the small of your back to secure you closer to him. You swear you hear your heart beating out of your chest. No matter how long you've been together, he never fails to fluster you. (Of course his heart is beating just as loudly, just as fast.)
✦ You (and everybody else that dare look at you both right now, to be honest) can tell how much he's absolutely, UNABASHEDLY in love with you by how he's looking at you right now (or any time for that matter). Always keeping him on his toes with your spontaneity, he decides to respond in kind. Tracing his thumb across your lower lip, he can't help but speak just loud enough for you to hear,
"Do I got any dirt on my face?"
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𝐔𝐌𝐄.
"..! Honey...! Haha! C'mon. Behave yourself. lemme check."
✦ IS COMPLETELY UNAWARE THAT WAS YOUR ENTIRE SCHTICK. YOU REALLY DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING ON YOUR FACE BUT GOD DAMN IT WITH THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT YOU IT MAKES YOU WISH YOU HAD MORE THAN JUST SMUDGE OF DIRT ON IT RIGHT NOW PLEASEPLAEPASLEPELA---(is dragged off the stage, microphone dropped on the floor, trail of tears snail behind me as I'm being dragged out)
✦ genuinely wants to help. Is kind of worried you're just sat there staring up at him with his hands cupping your cheeks to hold you still, giving your pretty features a once twice thrice over to see if you got any dirt on you. Eventually you have to confess that it was a prank :(((( he only chuckles, peppering kisses on your face until the both of you are giggling messes. His strong arms are around your waist now, holding you securely against him. The giggles die down as you look into each other's eyes. You could just melt right then and there. He'd follow suit of course.
✦ With an affectionate sigh, he traces his fingers along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Featherlike and gentle. He leans in to kiss you--God he never fails to make every kiss feel like the first time. Your heart is beating out of your chest as he pulls away with a smile. Chasing your lips for another chaste kiss, he chuckles,
"if you wanted a kissy kiss, you could have told me, y'know?"
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a/n: NIREI DEBUT NIREI DEBBBUUUUUUTTTT!!!!!!!! I know for a fact Nirei's got a secret little ⟡𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓬𝔂⟡ side to him. I just know it. That damn notebook knows too much. He's gotta have something juicy--learned something juicy from it too. Also the fact that he's working so closely with Suo...... I...... I just know...... That they--he.. uh...... ////// (pulls the microphone cord off forcefully and walks off stage, slamming the door behind me you can hear my muffled screams through the hardwood.)
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maxtermind · 6 months ago
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please i'm begging you (please don't feel pressured if your life is busy 💕) we need pt 2 to the angst i can't handle this 😭 my heart 💔 the writing is too good that i'm feeling things 😓
was i stupid to love you?
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★ : summary :: when he downplays your feelings ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst; hurt/comfort ★ : word count :: 4.6k ★ : a/n :: open ending, don't forget to vote after so i can get a bit of feedback :3 kinda rushed so might contain lots of typos sorryyyy!!
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( part 1 )
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Charles Leclerc
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The house party buzzed with music and laughter, a cacophony that drowned your thoughts as you stormed through the crowded rooms. Your heart raced with a mix of anger and hurt, knowing Charles was right on your tail, determined to catch you before you could reach Arthur.
Your boyfriend’s hand wrapped around yours just as his brother turned around to look at you guys. You stomped your feet as you shook your head to dismiss Arthur and follow your boyfriend who quietly kissed your head in gratitude before you could step away.
”What is going on with you?!” Your voice trembled with barely contained fury as you confronted Charles in a quieter corner.
Charles sighed, his brow furrowing in frustration. ”I don’t know, baby. I’m so sorry—”
”You told me off when you should know that I’m right!” Your voice rose involuntarily. ”She fucking leaned in thinking that you were gonna choose her.”
”Y/N, please listen to me,” Charles said earnestly, stepping closer to you. ”I messed up. I know. But I would, never in a hundred years, choose anyone let alone her over you.”
You looked into Charles' eyes, seeing the sincerity and pain reflected in them. Your anger began to melt, replaced by a swirl of conflicting emotions.
”You’re just saying what I want to hear and I don't like it,” you said, your voice softer now, searching for clarity.
”It’s the truth,” Charles declared, his voice tinged with regret. ”I know I’ve hurt you baby and I'm sorry for that but I can’t— I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I watched you leave with my brother. Let me drop you home, okay?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and hurt mixing with the love you still felt for him. Charles gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting.
”Y/N, please,” Charles pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. ”I never want to make you feel like you need to run away from me. I want to talk this out, please give me a chance to make things right.”
You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to forgive him and the pain of betrayal still fresh in your heart.
”Okay,” you finally whispered, feeling emotionally drained. ”Let's go.”
Charles nodded, relief washing over his face. He led you out of the noisy party, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring. The cool night air outside provided a stark contrast to the heated emotions inside.
As Charles drove you home, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled with unspoken words and the weight of what had just transpired. But Charles kept stealing glances at you, his eyes full of regret and love.
When you arrived at your shared apartment, Charles parked the car but made no move to get out. He turned to you, his expression soft and vulnerable.
”I'll leave if you want me to,” Charles said quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. ”But please, Y/N, give us a chance to talk tomorrow. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the love that still lingered despite everything. Tears fell down your cheeks as you nodded slowly.
”I need time,” you admitted softly, your voice barely audible. ”Time to sort through this.”
Charles nodded understandingly, reaching out to gently wipe away your tears. ”Take all the time you need,” he said softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. ”I'll be here, whenever you're ready.”
”Where will you go?” You asked, not wanting to leave just yet.
”To your brother’s house,” he joked and smiled cheekily when you let out a small laugh.
”I love you,” Charles continued and seemed satisfied when you saw your tinted cheeks, giving into the temptation to kiss your hand. ”I’ll stay at Arthur's for the night.”
With that, you stepped out of the car, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions. You watched Charles drive away, feeling the distance between you both but knowing that perhaps, with time, you could find a way back to each other.
Lando Norris
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You sat in the break room at work, your lunch untouched in front of you. The memories of last night’s events still stung, the image of her hand on Lando’s thigh and the lipstick on his collar replaying in your mind.
Just as you were about to take a sip of water, the door swung open, and there he was, your— ex? —boyfriend, looking desperate and determined. You knew there was a possibility he’d try to catch you at work given that you’d taken away all other means.
”Y/N, can I please?” he said, his voice pleading as he pointed towards the hallway.
You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty hall, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.
You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty conference room, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.
”Y/N, please,” he started, his voice trembling slightly. ”I’m so sorry about last night.”
You crossed your arms, leaning against the table. ”Bet you had a good time, huh?”
”No, I didn't,” Lando said in disbelief before he took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. ”Nothing that happened there was intentional. We were all drinking, and she... she got too close. I should have pushed her away. I’m sorry.”
You scoffed, anger bubbling up again, finally fired up enough to speak your mind. ”Her hand was on your fucking thigh, Lando. And your collar— her lipstick was all over it. How do you explain that?”
He winced, clearly pained by the memory. ”I know it looks bad, but it wasn’t what it seemed. She leaned in close to talk to me, and I didn’t realize she had left a mark. It was a— just a stupid mistake, and I should have been more aware.”
”More aware?” you echoed, your voice rising. ”You should have cared about how it would make me feel! Instead, you shrugged it off like it was nothing.”
”I didn’t mean to shrug it off,” he said, stepping closer. ”I was wrong. I should have reassured you, should have shown you that you’re the only one that matters to me. Baby, please just let me—”
You looked away, the pain still fresh. ”It’s not just about the lipstick or her hand. It’s about how you made me feel like I was overreacting, like my feelings didn’t matter.”
”They do matter,” he said, his voice breaking. ”More than anything. I was an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately. I should have come to you and told you everything before you saw it for yourself.”
”You know I only want you,” he added softly, his eyes pleading with you.
You shook your head, trying to hold back tears. ”That’s the thing, Lando. I don’t know that. I actually believe that y— you don’t at all.”
Lando’s eyes filled with tears as a broken whisper of your name left his mouth. ”I h.. have never, I never will. Ever.” He stressed. ”Want anyone— need anyone the way I want you.”
You kept quiet as you looked at him trying to catch himself. Lending him your hand that he squeezed in return.
”I can’t believe you would ever believe that but I understand and, I promise… I’ll be more mindful, more respectful. I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m taken, that I’m yours. Please, give me a chance to make it right.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and you let out a slow breath, trying to not have a breakdown at your workplace. ”It’s going to take time, Lando. Trust isn’t rebuilt overnight.”
”I know,” he said, relief washing over his features. ”And I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust.”
”Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. ”I’ll give it a thought, Lando. But if you hurt me again, we’re done.”
”I understand,” he said, his voice filled with determination. ”Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.”
Max Verstappen
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The streets were bustling with late-night revelers, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. The restaurant's neon sign flickered as you stepped out into the cool night air, your phone clenched tightly in your hand.
Three hours. You had waited for three hours, hoping Max would show up for your anniversary dinner, only to find out from the story of your mutual friend that he was out with her again.
On your anniversary.
You made your way through the crowded streets, not caring where you ended up. You just needed to get away, to think, to process the hurt and betrayal. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, but you ignored it. Max's calls and messages could wait. Right now, you needed space.
After wandering aimlessly for a while, you found yourself at the edge of the city, near the river. The quiet contrast of the flowing water was a welcome change from the city's noise. You sat on a bench, pulling your jacket tighter around you as a light drizzle began to fall. The soft patter of rain on the water's surface was soothing, but it didn’t dull the ache in your heart.
Minutes turned into an hour, and the rain intensified. Your phone buzzed again, and this time you glanced at it. Last message from Max was a minute ago
Max: Y/N, please. Where are you? Let me explain. I’m looking for you.
You sighed, wiping away the raindrops mixed with your tears. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally typed a reply.
You: By the river. Near the old bridge.
You didn’t know why you told him, but some part of you wanted to hear him out. To understand why he kept doing this. Why would he even waste time with you if he was already in love with someone else?
God. Even the thought of that brought up a real pain in your chest. The rain fell harder, and you huddled under the small awning of a nearby building, trying to stay somewhat dry.
After what felt like an eternity, you saw a figure running towards you through the rain. It was Max, drenched and breathless. He slowed as he approached, his eyes filled with worry and regret. HIs clothes were all over the place, untucked and wrinkled and you only drew the worst conclusion.
”Y/N,” he gasped, stopping a few feet away. ”Thank God, you're okay.”
You stood up, arms crossed defensively. ”You’ve got five minutes, Max. Make it count.”
He nodded, taking a step closer. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know I’ve let you down. I was with her tonight because she’s going through a really rough time. She had no one else to turn to.”
You narrowed your eyes, the skepticism clear. ”On our anniversary? How convenient.”
He flinched at your tone but didn’t back down. ”I know it’s no excuse. I should have told you. I thought I could help her quickly and still make it to dinner. I didn’t realize it would take so long.”
You shook your head, the anger bubbling up again. ”This isn’t the first time, Max. How many times have I had to wonder if she’s really just a friend? How many times have you put her before me?”
Max stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I’ve been blind, Y/N. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. There’s nothing romantic between us. She’s just a friend, and she needed my help. But I see now that I’ve been unfair to you.”
Tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks. ”I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Max. The constant worry, the feeling like I’m not enough. It’s tearing me apart.”
He reached out, tentatively taking your hand. ”You are more than enough, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’m so sorry. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. All you saw was sincerity and regret. ”How can I trust you again, Max? What did she even need help with?”
He squeezed your hand gently. ” She saw her ex at the club and he was being an asshole. I just went over for five to put him in his place when one of her friends posted the story. I’m sorry for the delay, baby. I know I should've been more transparent about everything. Just please, give me a chance to make things right.”
”Is she okay?” You took a shaky breath, your heart aching with the desire to believe him and he exhaled when you pulled him under the shit excuse of shelter you had from the rain.
”She’s okay. I promise I won't ever embarrass you this way again, baby. You won’t ever have to sit and wonder if I'm bailing because I found someone else or not.” Max took another deep breath. ”I never will, baby, you are the only one I want. I will never find anyone.”
You closed your eyes, the tears spilling over as you hugged him. ”I wanna go home.”
”Okay let’s go home, baby.” Max gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. ”But I need you to know. You are my priority, Y/N. I’ll never let you feel otherwise again. I love you more than anything, and I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”
You leaned into his touch, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain as you hugged him.
He sighed again, closing his eyes to soak in this. ”Happy anniversary, baby. I love you”
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a tired smile.
Carlos Sainz
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Carlos's pleas had grown quieter, the urgency in his voice replaced with a softness that seemed to seep through the crack under the door.
You could hear his breath hitching, a clear sign that he was on the verge of breaking down himself. But you couldn’t get yourself to stand up as you sat on the bed, knees drawn to your chest, tears still streaming down your face as you tried to block out the sound.
”Y/N, please,” he choked out, and you could hear the tears in his voice now. ”I'm so sorry. I... I don't know what else to say. I can't lose you.”
The sincerity and raw emotion in his voice cut through you in a vicious manner, and against your better judgment, you found yourself getting up. You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before finally opening the door just a crack.
Carlos was standing there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. When he saw you, a look of profound relief washed over his face. ”Thank you,” he whispered.
You stepped back, letting him in. He walked in slowly, as if afraid to invade your space, and you closed the door behind him. The silence was heavy, each second stretching into an eternity.
”I'm so sorry,” Carlos said again, his voice trembling. ”I swear, I didn't know she was going to kiss me. If I had known, I would have never invited her. I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally.”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own shaking voice. ”But you did invite her, Carlos. And I told you to cut her off so many times. Why didn't you listen?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly defeated. ”I thought... I thought we were just friends. I didn't realize she felt that way about me. And when she kissed me, I was so shocked. I— I froze. I'm an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately.”
”You should have,” you echoed, your voice breaking as you recalled that scene and it felt like someone was physically stabbing you. ”Do you have any idea how much it hurt to see that?”
Carlos stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I know, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Y/N. You're the only one I want to be with.”
You looked down, tears falling onto the floor. ”How do I know that, Carlos? How do I know you won't let this happen again?”
He gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. ”Because I can’t ever go through this again. I don’t want to know what it feels like to almost lose you. I'll cut her off completely. I promise you, baby, just, anything— it will never happen again.”
You pulled your hands away, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. ”It's not just about cutting her off, Carlos. I can never get that image out of my brain now. What if you just wake up tomorrow that you didn’t get rid of her because yo— you…?”
You trailed off but Carlos understood and immediately shook his head. ”No,” he said firmly. ”I will never wake up with anyone other than you in my heart. You’re the one I love, the one I am going to live my life with.”
He didn’t let you speak as he carried on,”I understand. Trust is earned, not given. And I'll do whatever it takes to earn it back. I'll prove to you that you can trust me.”
You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. ”I want to believe you. But it's going to take time. A lot of time.”
”I know,” he said softly. ”And I'm willing to wait. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again. Just please, don't shut me out. Let me be there for you.”
You looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine remorse and love in them. Despite everything, a part of you still loved him deeply. ”Okay,” you whispered. ”But you have to understand, it's going to be hard. I'm still hurt, and it's going to take a while for me to heal.”
Carlos nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. ”I'll be patient. I'll be here for you, no matter what. And I'll do everything I can to make it right.”
”Alright.” You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. ”Just... don't make me regret it.”
”I won't,” Carlos stepped closer, tentatively reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. ”I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”
You gave him a small as you leaned into his touch, feeling a mix of emotions, ”I love you too, Carlos. That's why this hurts so much.”
He pulled you into a gentle hug, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. ”We'll get through this. Together.”
Lewis Hamilton
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You paced around your apartment, the anger and hurt from the argument still fresh. The silence after the exchange with Lewis was deafening. You couldn’t believe he said those things. Your phone buzzed on the couch, but you ignored it, needing space to process.
A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. It was loud and persistent. You hesitated, hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.
”Y/N, please open up. I need to talk to you,” Lewis’s voice came through the door, sounding desperate.
You took a deep breath and opened the door. Your boyfriend stood there, looking remorseful.
”What do you want, Lewis?” you asked, your voice cold.
”Can I come in? Please, we need to talk,” he pleaded.
You stepped aside reluctantly, letting him in. He walked into the living room, turning to face you with regret etched on his face.
”I’m sorry, Y/N,” he started, his voice soft as he ran a hand over his face. ”I didn’t mean what I said. I was frustrated— but that’s no excuse.”
”You really hurt me,” you said, crossing your arms defensively knowing you had to support yourself before you start crying again. ”And you were so fucking cruel about it!”
”I know, and I hate that I did that to you,” he replied, his eyes sincere. ”I’ve been spending too much time with her, and I’ve been blind to how it’s been affecting you— us. Affecting us.”
”Why do you keep seeing her then? If she’s just a friend, why does it feel like she’s more important than me?” you demanded, your voice shaking.
”She’s not more important than you,” he said quickly. ”I’ve let the boundaries blur, and I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. I’m sorry.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. This was not what you expected. You were ready for a fight, sure that Lewis would come with his own weapons out but this was undoing you.
”It’s not just about her, Lewis. It’s about us. You’ve been distant, and I feel like I’m losing you.”
Lewis nodded, looking pained and sick. ”You’re not losing me, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve taken you for granted. I want to fix this.”
”How?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Desperately clinging onto him to make amends because you couldn’t see any in hindsight.
”By being more present, by setting boundaries, and by showing you every day how much you mean to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. ”Please give me a chance to make this right.”
”Words aren’t enough anymore,” you said, looking down at your joined hands.
”I know,” he nodded. ”But I'm willing to go through any lengths, I’ll prove to you that you’re my priority.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the determination and regret. ”I want to trust you,” as your voice cracked, the very first tear fell down your face and Lewis immediately grabbed you as he pulled you to lay your head on his chest.
”I can’t though— I wish I could but I can't get hurt again.”
”I understand and I promise you can shoot me if I hurt you again” he said. ”I love you, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
You leaned into his embrace, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain. ”I love you too.” You felt him take a sigh as he held you tight against his warm body.
”And I need you to understand that my feelings are valid,” you continued as you soaked his shirt with your tears. ”When I tell you something bothers me, I need you to listen and not dismiss it.”
”I promise I’ll listen,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. ”I’ll do better because losing you would end me.”
You took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift slightly. As you stood there in your boyfriend’s arms, you realized that healing would take time but there was no one else you would rather heal with. Though only time could tell what the future held for you.
Oscar Piastri
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You closed your eyes as you heard the door of your best friend's apartment being knocked on again. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, sadness.
You replayed the messages over and over in your head, each one cutting deeper than the last as you contemplated whether letting Oscar in would be a good decision. You finally made the decision when you heard the neighbor’s lock moving.
You pulled him in before they could open their door or call the cops and finally took a look at him. He looked disheveled. His eyes were red from holding unshed tears as they glossed over once he finally took you in.
”Y/N,” Oscar started, moving towards you with open arms. ”Thanks for letting me in.”
”I almost didn't.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your voice steady as you stepped away from his open arms. ”But you were waking up the whole damn building.”
Oscar nodded, looking down at the ground. ”I deserve that.” You took a deep breath, desperate to get this over with.
”Why, Oscar? Why did you lie to me?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ”I... I was scared you'd get upset. I thought if I told you the truth, you'd leave me.”
”And now?” you scoffed, your voice rising. ”You think I'm not upset now? You think lying to me makes it any better?”
He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”Y/N, I made a mistake. A huge mistake. But nothing happened between me and her, I swear. We were drunk, and she sat on my lap for a picture. It was stupid and irresponsible, but that's all it was.”
You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. ”Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Seeing her on your lap after you told me she wasn't even going to be there?”
Oscar reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back once again and his eyes brimmed with tears. ”Y/N, please. I love you. I was an idiot, but I love you. I need you to believe that.”
You wiped your eyes, trying to compose yourself. ”How can I believe you, Oscar? When I don't even know if you really want me?”
He swallowed hard, his tears finally falling out of his eyes. Oscar looked defeated as if he was fighting a battle already lost.
”Please don’t say that. You’re the only person I want. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I'll never lie to you again. I'll be completely honest, even if it's something I think will hurt you. Just... please give me a chance to make it right.”
You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. You saw only earnest regret and a desperate longing for forgiveness. You wanted to believe him, but the hurt was still so raw.
”I don't know if I can,” you whispered. ”You've broken my trust, Oscar. And that's not something you can just fix with words.”
He nodded slowly. ”I know. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I'll go to counseling, I'll give you access to my phone, my social media, anything you need to feel secure. Just please, don’t give up on us.”
You stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation heavy in the air. You looked around the dimly lit apartment, as you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.
”Okay,” you said finally. ”I’m willing to discuss this in the morning. But if you lie to me again, if you hurt me again, we're done. Do you understand?”
Oscar's face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination as his chest heaved. ”I understand. I promise you, Y/N, I'll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”
You nodded, as your lips quivered. ”I hope so. Because I don't think I can go through this again.”
He stepped closer, cautiously taking your hand. You allowed it, feeling the warmth of his touch. ”Thank you,” he said softly. ”I won't let you down.”
You stood together, still holding hands. The silence between you was different now—tentative, but with a flicker of understanding. You had a long way to go, but for the first time since those fateful messages, you felt like maybe, just maybe, not all was lost.
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