#the pause she makes after saying it and the pause she makes /before/ speaking up
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utterlyazriel · 2 days ago
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featherlight touch
a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic
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Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.
Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.
You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.
But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.
Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.
“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.
His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.
“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”
At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.
Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.
But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.
Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.
“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.
“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.
You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”
Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.
Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.
“Is that so?”
Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.
“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.
Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.
“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.
Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.
“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”
Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.
If what Feyre said is true...
Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.
Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.
Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.
Grinning, you take your cue.
Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.
Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.
The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.
“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.
"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."
This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.
Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.
Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.
"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.
Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a needy whimper. His chest arches up, his head thrown back lightly—nearly writhing in pleasure from just a few touches.
"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.
"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"
You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.
"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.
Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.
"What do you think?"
You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.
You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.
"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.
"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"
"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.
Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."
His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.
"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.
His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.
"Have your way with me."
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enwoso · 2 days ago
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FINDING HER WAY BACK HOME | alessia russo
i’m sure someone requested something with lotte and foxy from college era but i can no longer find the request or maybe i dreamt it idk but if not here it it anyways!
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grumpy masterlist
alessia leaned back against the dorm room couch, her hand resting on her small bump as she watch lotte and emily animatedly discuss their future plans.
"i'm telling you," lotte said, pausing for a moment as both girls waiting for her to continue, "arsenal is where i'm heading after here. best club in england!"
emily rolled her eyes, "your so biased, arsenal's good sure but if you're really aiming for the best, you'd look across the pond. nwsl has the edge in-."
"emilyy, not again" alessia interrupted, laughing as she dragged out emily's name.
emily smirked, "fine but i'm staying in the u.s. anyway at least for now. but mark my words we'll all end up in london one day, we'll sign with a club together. it'll be epic"
"deal" alessia said softly, looking between her two best friends. "i don't care what club we're at as long as we're together again."
lotte grinned, "you'll have to hold out the talks with manchester united until you're ready to come back though."
"yeah, the deal with them is still early days" alessia said a wistful smile crossing her face. she loved the idea of returning to england and playing there but for now, football felt like a distant dream.
she had other priorities now - a tiny, growing priority who was going to depend on her for everything.
emily leaned forward, her serious side kicking in, "oh, speaking of priorities, less have you taken your prenatal vitamins today?"
a small groan came from the blonde, this had been the same conversation she would have with the american everyday. she wouldn't forget. "yes, emily"
"and the iron supplements? you've been looking pale the last couple of days."
"wow thanks em, but yeah i have"
"and you're drinking enough water?"
"yes, emily!" alessia said, exasperated but unable to hide her smile, her heart warming at the fact of how caring her friends were over her now.
emily raised an eyebrow, "don't 'yes emily' me you were standing for like two hours at that student center thing yesterday. you've got to take it easy less!"
lotte snorted, "your like her personal midwife"
"somebody has to be!" emily shot back, tossing a pillow at lotte as she giggled on, "she's carrying out honorary niece or nephew. i take my duties very seriously!"
after a long morning, and a few teary goodbyes mainly saying goodbye to lotte and emily who walked alessia to the further point they could in the airport before sharing a group hug, promising one another that they'd see each other soon.
alessia was finally settling into her seat on the plane, rummaging through her carry-on, pulling out the book emily had packed for her.
as she opened the front cover she noticed a bright pink sticky note with emily's neat handwriting sprawled on it.
‘make sure you drink water every hour, you're already bad enough at this on the ground, don't make me come 30,000 feet and lecture you! safe flight lessi.’ emily
a small laugh bubbled up despite her exhaustion, emily had never let up since the the moment alessia told them and alessia could never not be grateful for the two.
a couple hours later, the flight going somewhat smoothly apart from the fact alessia was finding it rather difficult to get comfy, as she kept having to get up every half hour to use the bathroom. luckily she was on the isle seat..
as the flight attendants handed out complimentary snacks, alessia reached into her own bag for her own stash she'd bought in the airport. as she unwrapped the granola bar another little sticky note fluttered out.
the one had a messier scrawl of letters on it, accompanied with a doodle of a football. alessia immediately knowing it was from lotte.
‘granola bar = good. chocolate = bad. unless you want me and em to tell your little one that their mum broke all the rule, only kidding. take care of yourself, okay? we love you.’ lotte<3.
shaking her head with a smile, alessia carefully folded the note and slipped it back into her bag. her journey back home continued as she found more and more notes that the two girls had hidden in her bag in unexpected places.
reminder to stretch her legs.
a reminder to take her vitamins (no guesses needed to guess who that one was off..)
a reminder to have a nap.
but finally she found a small handwritten card tucked into the side pocket of her bag, where she kept her headphones. the note being from both of them:
‘alessia, we're so proud of you. we can't even begin to imagine how hard this is for you but you're the strongest person we know. and we know that your little one is so lucky to have you as their mum, and we're are so lucky we get to have you as our best friend. don't forget we're only a call away — no matter what the time it is. this isn't a goodbye, just a see you soon. we love you so much! lotte and emily <3'
tears filled her eyes as she read their loving words. holding the note tightly as she pressed it to her chest, overwhelmed by the love and support they had shown her. looking up at the time left on her flight: ten minutes and she'd ben home.
when alessia finally stepped through the arrivals gate in london. her body ached for her own bed from the long flight and her mind was foggy with fatigue. yet her heart leapt when she saw her family waiting for her.
her brothers were the first to reach her, gio stood tall with a big grin on his face as he pulled her carry on from her hand. "what's this? didn't they charge you extra for the snacks you probably smuggled on board?"
"or is it baby stuff already?" luca added with a smirk, reaching to grab the trolley with her suitcases on, "bibs and tiny shoes?"
"hilarious" alessia said rolling her eyes playfully. normally she'd fire back with a quick comment of her own but she was simply too tired to engage as she let out a breathy laugh and muttered, "just make yourself useful and carry my bags would you?"
her lack of a witty retort made both her brothers pause, gio nudging luca with his elbow. "she'd either growing up or she's too jet lagged to care?"
"one hundred percent the second one," luca quipped back quickly.
mario was standing slightly behind them, giving her a warm smile as he silently pulled her into a hug. alessia closing her eyes as she leaned into his steady presence.
when he released her from the hug, he took one look at her tired face and gestured towards the doors of the airport, “let’s get you home, you can sleep in the car”
but before they could move any further, carol appearing rushing forward to envelop alessia into her arms.”
“oh my baby!” she cried, happy tears already spilling down her cheeks. her hands immediately going to alessia’s six month bump
“look at you, you’re glowing. are you eating enough? have you been taking those vitamins i told you about? and oh- names! have you thought about any yet? what about james or izzy? or-”
“mum,” alessia said with a tired laugh her voice soft but affectionate, “i’m too tired to think of names right now”
her mum wasn’t deterred, as she looped her arm through alessia’s and began walking in the direction of the car, her chatter filling the quiet night.
“that’s okay, we can talk about it tomorrow. did you know your gran suggested peter? i told her absolutely not and then your aunt said olivia, but that’s..” alessia let her mum’s voice wash over her, a small smile tugged at her lips.
she was home.
the drive back to kent alessia’s head was leant against the cool glass of the car window the air cool and a lot less sticky than the hot air from the states as alessia’s eyes half closed.
her brothers keeping up a low and playful banter next to her as mario hummed softly to the radio as he drove. carol keeping a watchful eye on alessia from the corner of her eye the entire way.
when they finally pulled into the familiar driveway of her childhood home, alessia felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest. her family bustled around her, her brothers unloading her bags as her dad quietly set up a spot for her to sit in the living room. her mum of course already started to plan where they were going to go for breakfast.
alessia sat back, her hand resting on her bump as she let the moment sink in. she was surrounded by love, laughter and warmth. this is what her baby was being welcomed into, a family surrounded by people who already cared so deeply.
for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt at peace. she was home and she couldn’t wait to welcome her baby into the world.
it was well past midnight when alessia finally sank into the soft cushions of her old bed, her body aching with exhaustion but her mind too restless to sleep.
her family has tucked her in for the night with promises of a big family breakfast in the morning, but the quiet hum of the house only made her miss lotte and emily even more.
reaching for her phone, alessia stared at the time. it was early morning in north carolina - ridiculously early. she debated whether to call, knowing she could leave a message and they’d get back to her later.
but before she could second guess herself, her fingers had already pressed the button.
to her surprise emily picked up after only two rings, her voice groggy but alert. “less? everything okay?”
“why are you awake?” alessia asked, startled at the americans accent and by the fact she actually answer the phone.
“it’s five thirty am,” emily muttered, “i have morning conditioning in an hour. why are you still awake?” alessia chuckled, that’s one thing she wasn’t going to miss in a hurry - the early morning sessions.
“i just got home and i- um couldn’t sleep. i wasn’t expecting you to answer. i was just going to leave a message.” alessia explained as emily had placed her phone down on the counter to fill up her water bottle.
“like i’d miss your call,” emily said her tone softening as the american glanced across her dorm room, “wait, here comes lotte.”
a moment later, lotte was on the screen a tired smile on her face but still filled with excitement to her see the blonde. “less! your home already? how was the flight? did baby behave? did you find the notes we left?”
“slow down lotte..” emily interrupted with a teasing smile, “let her answer one question at a time”
alessia laughed, warmth spreading through her chest, “yes i’m home. the flight was fine - long but fine. baby is all good, kicking my ribs but that’s usual these days. and yes i found all the notes. thank you for those by the way.” her voice softened, “i already miss you guys.”
“don’t make me cry at five am,” emily groaned, “it’s too early for emotions.”
“literally? who gave you the right?” lotte added, but her teasing tone couldn’t mask the affection in her voice.
alessia leaned back against her pillows, “it feels weird without you both. and em you’ll be happy to know my mum has already taken over your job”
"job?”
“mhm the constant reminders about vitamins and water” alessia replied a hint of amusement in her tone, “first you, now her. it like i have my own personal tag team of nagging.”
“poor you” emily dai, her voice mock dramatic, “you live such a hard life. imagine having people who actually care about you. must be terrible.”
alessia snorted as she rolled her eyes playfully, although the two on the other side of the facetime call could barely see by the blondes dimly lit room.
“don’t mind her less,” lotte said her voice light. “you know she gets snappy when she’s tired.”
“i’m not snappy when i’m tired.” emily protested as lotte and alessia both looked to each other and burst out laughing.
“you are..” lotte countered as she stopped her laughing, “but it’s okay we love you anyway.”
the banter made alessia smile so wide her cheeks were beginning to her. these two girls were her rocks, her family away from home. even though right now they were miles apart she felt their love and support as strongly as if they were sitting beside her — if not more.
“thanks for answering” alessia said softly, “i didn’t think you would.”
“of course we did.” emily said her voice losing its previous teasing edge, “we told you that you can call us anytime, less. even if it’s just to say hi, we’re here for you.”
“always,” lotte added, “now you need to sleep. you’ve got the whole growing another human thing to keep up with.”
alessia laughed as she could feel the baby kicking slightly, “okay okay, goodnight— or good morning.. i guess”
“love you less!” they said in unison making the blonde grin.
“love you guys too!”
as alessia hung up the room felt a little less quiet and her heart felt a little less heavy. even across an ocean her best friends were always there for her. with a content sigh she fitted off to sleep one hand resting on her bump knowing she’d never be alone in this journey.
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anticipatedexhale · 3 days ago
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Come on! Get ready!! they're taking you on a date <3
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♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, vander, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi.
☆ ◞ summary: how cute ! They decide to take you on a date(character)!
△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Pure fluff, and yeah that's it!!.
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Mel Medarda.
Date Spot: A high-end art gallery followed by an exclusive rooftop dinner.
Mel enjoys sophistication and luxury, so she’d choose an art gallery showcasing Piltover’s finest works, followed by a private, candlelit dinner overlooking the city.
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Mel’s hand rests lightly on your arm as you step into the gallery, the warm glow of chandeliers casting a golden light over the polished floors. The air smells faintly of expensive perfumes and freshly polished wood. As you approach a painting, Mel pauses, tilting her head thoughtfully. “This one,” she murmurs, gesturing to a striking abstract piece, “is about the illusion of control. It’s fascinating how it challenges our need for order.”
You can’t help but watch her as she speaks, the passion in her voice drawing you in more than the painting itself. She notices your gaze and arches a brow. “What? Do I have paint on my face?”
You laugh and shake your head. “No, I just like listening to you.”
Her lips curve into a soft smile. “Careful, darling. Flattery like that might make me keep you out all night.”
Later, as the two of you settle into a cozy corner of a rooftop restaurant, the city’s lights twinkling below, she raises her glass to you.
“To beauty,” she says, her voice low and warm, “both the kind we can see, and the kind we feel.” The candlelight dances in her golden eyes, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.
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Jayce Talis.
Date Spot: A lively Piltover festival.
Jayce loves excitement and fun, so he’d take you to a bustling festival filled with games, food stalls, and music, making sure it’s a night full of laughter.
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The sound of laughter and cheerful music fills the air as Jayce leads you through the vibrant streets of Piltover’s annual festival. The scent of roasted nuts and sweet pastries wafts by, and colorful lanterns hang above, casting a warm glow.
“Alright, pick a game,” Jayce says, grinning down at you. “I’m winning you a prize.”
You point to a ring-toss booth, and he confidently strides up, paying for a few tries. His first attempt misses completely, and you can’t hold back a laugh. “Hey, that was a warm-up!” he protests, grabbing another ring.
After a few more tries (and some playful banter about his aim), he finally lands one, earning a stuffed animal for you. He hands it over with a triumphant smile. “See? Told you I’d win something.”
As the night goes on, the two of you share sugary treats and dance to live music under the lanterns.
When the fireworks start, Jayce pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “This is nice,” he says softly, his usual confident demeanor giving way to something more tender. “I should take nights off with you more often.”
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Viktor.
Date Spot: A quiet observatory on the outskirts of Piltover.
Viktor values intimate and meaningful experiences, so he’d take you to an observatory where you could stargaze and talk without distractions.
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The observatory is quiet, perched on a hill overlooking Piltover. Viktor leads you inside, his hand brushing yours briefly before pulling away. “I thought you might like this,” he says, his voice soft. “It’s one of the few places where you can actually see the stars clearly.”
As you step onto the balcony, the night sky stretches out above you, a canvas of glittering stars. Viktor adjusts a telescope, his movements careful and precise. “Come here,” he says, motioning for you to look.
You lean over, and he places a hand on your back, steadying you. Through the lens, you see a cluster of stars glowing brightly. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper, straightening up to look at him.
He smiles faintly, his golden eyes reflecting the starlight. “It reminds me of you,” he says after a pause, his voice quieter now. “Brilliant, even in the darkest places.”
For a moment, you’re both silent, the world around you fading into the stillness of the night. Then, Viktor hesitates before reaching for your hand, his touch tentative but warm. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “It means more than I can put into words.”
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Vi.
Date Spot: A rooftop boxing ring overlooking the Undercity.
Vi would take you somewhere personal to her—a rooftop she knows where you can spar, laugh, and share a moment under the stars.
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“Trust me,” Vi says, a teasing grin on her face as she leads you up a narrow staircase. “You’re gonna love this.”
When you reach the top, you’re greeted by a makeshift boxing ring set up on a rooftop. The view of the Undercity sprawls out below, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows.
“You brought me to fight?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
She laughs, tossing you a pair of gloves. “Not fight. Spar. Big difference.”
The two of you step into the ring, and she takes it easy on you at first, showing you how to throw punches and block. But soon, the playful competition begins, and before long, you’re both laughing too hard to keep going.
As you sit on the edge of the ring, catching your breath, Vi nudges you with her shoulder. “You’re tougher than you look,” she teases, her eyes softening.
“And you’re not as intimidating as you pretend to be,” you shoot back, grinning.
She leans in, her expression turning serious for a moment. “This was nice,” she says quietly. “I don’t let a lot of people in, but... I’m glad I let you.”
The vulnerability in her voice catches you off guard, and you reach over to take her hand. The two of you sit there for a while, the sounds of the Undercity fading into the background as the stars twinkle above.
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Caitlyn Kiramman.
Date Spot: A picnic in the countryside.
Caitlyn prefers thoughtful, intimate moments. She’d plan a private picnic on a grassy hill outside of Piltover, where the two of you could enjoy some quiet time together surrounded by nature.
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The sun is warm, and the breeze carries the faint scent of wildflowers as Caitlyn sets the picnic basket down on the blanket she’s laid out. You watch as she carefully arranges everything—fresh bread, fruit, cheese, and a bottle of wine.
“I know it’s not as exciting as a big event,” she says, glancing at you as she unpacks, “but I thought we could use a little escape from the noise.”
“It’s perfect,” you assure her, settling down beside her.
She smiles, the tension in her shoulders easing as she pours you both a glass of wine. The two of you spend the afternoon sharing stories, laughing, and enjoying the food. At one point, Caitlyn leans back, her hat shading her face from the sun, and looks at you with a rare, relaxed expression.
“You’re good for me, you know,” she says softly. “I spend so much time chasing leads and solving problems... I forget how nice it is to just be.”
You reach over, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You deserve it, Cait. You work so hard for everyone else.”
Her cheeks flush slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she takes your hand in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice almost a whisper. “For reminding me what’s really important.”
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Jinx.
Date Spot: An abandoned fairground in the Undercity.
Jinx would take you to a forgotten fairground she’s decorated herself with colorful lights and strange contraptions. It’s chaotic, but it’s her way of showing you a piece of her world.
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“Ta-da!” Jinx shouts, throwing her arms wide as you step into the abandoned fairground. Strings of mismatched lights are strung haphazardly between rusting rides, and strange, homemade decorations dangle from the stalls.
“You... did all this?” you ask, looking around in awe.
“Of course!” she says, bouncing on her toes. “You’re always saying I don’t do normal dates, so here it is. Jinx-style.”
She drags you toward an old dart booth, where she’s set up bottles and targets. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” she says, handing you a handful of darts.
After a few rounds of chaotic (and hilarious) attempts at hitting the targets, Jinx pulls you toward the Ferris wheel. It creaks ominously as she climbs inside, patting the seat beside her.
“Don’t worry, it won’t fall,” she says with a mischievous grin. “Probably.”
As the wheel lurches to life, you can’t help but laugh, holding onto the metal bar as the two of you rise above the fairground. The view is a mix of the Undercity’s flickering lights and her makeshift decorations below.
“See?” Jinx says, her voice softer now as she looks out over the scene. “It’s not fancy or perfect, but... it’s ours.”
You glance at her, her usual manic energy replaced with something quieter, almost vulnerable. “I love it,” you say, reaching over to take her hand.
Her cheeks flush slightly, and she looks away, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Good,” she mutters, squeezing your hand tightly. “’Cause you’re stuck with me now.”
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Vander.
Date Spot: A cozy dinner at The Last Drop after hours.
Vander would want to keep things simple and meaningful, opting to cook you dinner in his bar after closing. He’d light a few candles and make sure it’s just the two of you.
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The Last Drop is unusually quiet, the usual crowd of rowdy patrons gone for the night. Vander moves around the bar with practiced ease, a worn apron tied around his waist as he stirs a pot on the stove in the back.
“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you say, leaning on the counter and watching him.
He glances over his shoulder, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s no trouble. You deserve a good meal, and I figured it’s about time I cooked for you.”
The table he’s set up in the corner is simple but thoughtful, with a few candles flickering softly and two plates waiting. When he finally brings the food over—a hearty stew and fresh bread—you can’t help but smile at how much care he’s put into everything.
As you eat, Vander leans back in his chair, watching you with a content expression. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to just sit down and enjoy a meal like this,” he admits.
“Well, you should do it more often,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “You’re always looking out for everyone else. Let someone look out for you for a change.”
He chuckles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You’re already doing that,” he says quietly. “Just by being here.”
The warmth in his voice makes your chest tighten, and as the two of you sit there, the world outside the bar fades away.
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dilf-hunter-fantasies · 10 hours ago
Note
I was wondering if you'd write anything about Joel and free use?
Love your account babe💗
thank you so much babe, i loved this idea! i hope you enjoy my take on it. i was fantasizing about...
renting a room from joel miller and striking a deal to lower your rent. 
3.5k words 🍒warnings: explicit smut, no outbreak au, age gap (reader in college), female reader, brief mention of f masturbation, free use!!, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, use of: sweetheart, darlin' 
click here for more of my writing
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So you end up short on options for housing after breaking up with your ex. You know it seems weird to be a young woman willing to rent a room from an older man who is …well in all versions you spin it…a total stranger. But, your aunt swears he’s a good guy. 
She used to live in his neighborhood, knew his daughter, figured he has the extra room and put you in touch. And all things considered, she hasn’t led you astray. I mean, he hasn’t murdered you. 
Okay, it’s not that bad. He doesn’t give off murder vibes either. More like…grumpy single man vibes. But that works out for your arrangement. You’re both pretty quiet and you keep to yourselves. And he’s not too bad to look at. You catch yourself straddling a line between not being the creep yourself and just wanting to get to know him a little bit. 
The real problem has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. Well with your bank account. You’ve been bleeding your measly savings trying to keep up with life and the job you have isn’t really enough to live off of. It was a dream to find a hybrid schedule and work for a non-profit with a mission that matters to you. But it doesn’t pay for shit. 
It’s not like Joel’s overcharging you or anything either. Nothing is affordable. 
And now you’re on your last legs. If you can’t keep this together you’ll have to pack it up and crawl home to your family? Not an option. It’s not like you haven’t been applying for other jobs either. But you either don’t hear back or the schedule won’t work with your classes. 
So here you are. Pacing back and forth in your sparsely decorated room. Between your bed and your desk, wearing a groove into the carpet, chewing on your fingers and obsessively checking your phone to see if your sage friends have any better advice. 
They don’t. 
Well, they suggested selling feet pics online, but even if that could be lucrative—it doesn’t get you the money to spend by tomorrow. You toss yourself onto your bed, exasperated. Last resort. You’re gonna have to be honest. 
It takes a long time to gather the mental courage. You stare at your ceiling for so long your eyes blur. You can hear Joel in the kitchen and with a deep breath you force yourself up, dragging your feet down the hallway until you see him. 
The kitchen is warm, whatever he’d made for dinner earlier smells good. So good it makes your stomach growl, announcing your presence in the doorway. The sound makes you grimace—for a split second you’re tempted to hide. To run back to your room and pretend like there won’t be any consequences if you just don’t bring it up. Ever. 
Too late. He shuts the dishwasher with a loud click and turns, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. You immediately regret this idea. Your feel like you’re sinking into the floor. You don’t know how long you’ve been staring at him now. 
“Hey,” he says gruffly, his voice low and even. He turns back away from you, putting leftovers in the fridge, like it’s no big deal you’ve been standing there silently like a weirdo. “You need something?” 
Your throat is suddenly so dry, you can barely unstick your tongue to speak. “Yeah…uh, can I talk to you for a second?” 
Joel pauses mid-motion, before shoving the last container onto the shelf and letting the fridge door shut, trapping you in the silence together. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward you. The way his shirt stretches across his shoulders makes you nervous for reasons you don’t want to analyze right now. 
“Sure.” 
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands twisting in front of you like they’re trying to strangle each other. His eyes flick down to the motion, and you force yourself to stop. 
“So, uh…I was wondering—” You swallow hard. You can do it. “I need to talk to you about my rent.” 
His eyebrows lift, and your chest tightens. 
“Let’s hear it then.” 
“It’s just that I’m in kind of a tight spot right now. Work’s been—well, it’s been fine but money’s tight, and I just—” You’re rambling. Words all running together. “I’m not saying you’re charging too much or anything like that, but—” 
“Slow down,” Joel holds up a hand, and the rest of your words fall flat. His voice is calm, but firm. “You sayin’ you can’t afford it?” 
“I can!” you blurt out. “I mean, I can’t by tomorrow, but I can soon. I just thought, maybe we could work something out. Like…if you could give me some more time or if I could do something to work off some of what I owe.” Joel tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin prickle. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just thinking, and the silence stretches too long for comfort. 
Finally, he exhales through his nose, dropping his arms and leaning his palms on the counter behind him. His voice is lower when he speaks again, quieter, like he’s weighing every word. 
“You wanna do something for me?” 
Your heart skips, and you blink up at him. Maybe that was a dumb suggestion. You don’t even know what you have to offer. The house is always clean, the yard maintained, he seems to enjoy cooking. 
“Uh, yeah?” your face contorts a little as you try and come up with a suggestion. “If you’d consider giving me a discount.” 
His lips twitch, just the barest hint of a smirk, and something about it makes the air in the room shift. 
“Well,” he drawls, “If I’m cuttin’ you a deal,---” 
“You’ll consider it?” You look at him with a smile already starting to break on your face. You can breathe. 
“Maybe you can cut me one, too.” He finishes his sentence. Your mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. There’s something behind his words you don’t fully understand, but it’s stuck in the air between you. 
“What kind of deal?” you manage to get out, your voice hesitant. 
Joel pushes off the counter, closing the space between you in a way that’s casual, but calculated. He’s close enough you can make out the lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper in his beard. His gaze holds yours, steady and charged with something new. 
“You say yes,” he starts to explain, his voice dropping into a gravelly timbre that makes your pulse quicken. “And I’ll knock your rent down as much as you need. Simple.” 
The room suddenly feels small, too warm, like his gravity is holding you in place. 
“Say yes to what, Mr. Miller?” Your voice is soft, just a whisper rolling off your tongue. You have an idea what he’s proposing. The way his eyes flicker with something dark and knowing when you refer to him as Mr. Miller. The crackle in the air between you. 
“I think you know what I mean.” 
You shake your head, ever so subtly, wrinkling a brow. In what feels like slow motion, Joel tips your chin up, between his thumb and curled forefinger. Your face is on fire. Somehow exposed even though nothing else has changed. 
“Whenever I need you. Wherever I want you.” 
For a second you think he might kiss you. It feels like everything in your body is calling to him. His mouth is so close to yours. The words are still replaying in your mind. 
But he pulls his hand back. “Think about it,” he murmurs and brushes past you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. He glances back at you once on his way out of the room. “Offer’s on the table, sweetheart,” he says over his shoulder. “Up to you.” 
You’re left standing, still as a stone, heat prickling up your spine as his words replay in your head. 
What the fuck just happened?
“Hey!” you call out, starting down the hall after Joel. “Wait.” 
He turns, hovering in the doorway to his room. 
“Uh, are you talking about sex?” 
“Yep.” 
Your breath hitches. The corner of his mouth quirks, smug. You look at him with fresh eyes. He’s an attractive guy. Not exactly pleasant, but not a jerk. You can’t imagine he’d have a hard time picking up a date. 
“I’m not a whore, you know.” “I know, darlin’.” His face softens a little. 
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The next couple of days are filled with tension so thick it’s impossible to ignore. Whenever you’re in the same room you can feel his eyes lingering on you. He brushes past you in the kitchen in the morning, his hand grazing your hip when he reaches for his coffee mug. 
You catch him watching you from across the room, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. His eyes roam all over your body, dark and deliberate, and you can feel the promise in his gaze. 
It’s driving you fucking insane. You thought he’d have made a move by now. Hell, you thought he’d have made a move the second you agreed to his deal. But he’d only made sure you each had a few ground rules and that was it. End of conversation. 
“Have a good night now, darlin’. Hope you sleep better without having to worry about your rent.” 
Right. You didn’t have to worry about rent. You just had to spiral in your own room wondering when it would happen. How he’s going to take you.
It’s got you so worked up thinking about him you keep spacing out during your work meetings. Swiveling restlessly on your office chair in your bedroom, trying to remember to look focused and add your two cents in for participation. 
But all you can think about is Joel. You’re on high alert whenever you hear his truck roll into the driveway, the door slamming shut with a thud. His heavy steps coming down the hall. You wonder when he’ll want you. You know he meant it. 
You hope he meant it. 
That night, his footsteps pause outside your door, his presence thick in the air, setting your pulse racing. It makes you squirm, adjusting the skimpy pajamas you’ve taken to wearing as your heart beats faster. You can’t tell if he’s debating coming in or if he’s just fucking with you, but it’s got you breathless. 
The next morning, you’re standing in the bathroom doorway, brushing your teeth when Joel suddenly appears, shirtless and still damp from his shower. He gives you a lazy once-over, stepping close enough that you have to press yourself against the door frame to let him pass. 
His voice is low and teasing as he murmurs, “You’re in the way, sweetheart,” leaving your cheeks flaming. 
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The next day, you’re still tense. 
Stretching in your desk chair as your coworkers read through their budget updates and data tracking for the grants you’re funded through. It’s hard to stay focused, Joel has taken over all of your thoughts. 
Jaz finishes her update and another department leads the rest of the meeting. You’re shuffling your notes around mindlessly, barely hearing a word. Every thought in your head is Joel, Joel, Joel.
Last night, you’d nearly combusted when he finally walked away from your door. You’d been seconds from begging him to come in, to just take you already. By the time he left, your thighs were slick, and the ache was unbearable. You had to handle it yourself, coming hard and fast on your fingers, imagining it was his thick, calloused hands instead.
But now, twelve hours later, the tension is already back. Worse than before. Every noise in the house puts you on edge. His truck rumbling into the driveway. The front door shutting. 
The meeting drags on, voices fading into a blur—until a soft knock jolts you back to reality. 
Before you can answer, the door swings open, and Joel steps inside like he owns the place—which, technically, he does. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the fact that you’re clearly in the middle of something.
Your heart races. Your eyes flick to your camera to make sure it’s off. Muted. Thank God.
Joel doesn’t say anything, just watches you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. His dark eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate, and it’s like every molecule of air has been sucked out of the room.
He takes his time crossing the space between you, letting the silence stretch. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he crowds you, hands bracing the arms of your chair, caging you in.
“You gonna tell me to stop?” he drawls, his voice low and gravelly.
Your throat is so tight you can’t even speak. You shake your head.
Joel’s smirk deepens. “That’s what I thought.”
His big hands tug you to the edge of your chair, spreading your knees wide. He runs his palms along your thighs, leaving a trail of heat that burns your skin through your soft leggings. 
Your heart jumps to your throat, chest tight. 
The thought of your coworkers just a click away only heightens the thrill. 
Joel doesn’t hold back. Pulling you to stand. Turning you to face your desk and pressing until you lean your elbows on the smooth surface, framing your keyboard. 
You arch your spine eagerly, holding your breath, bracing for his next move. He smooths a palm over the curve of your ass, humming softly to himself, before slipping his hand between your legs. 
You tilt your head, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers press against you, making your thighs tremble. You know he can feel how wet you already are through the thin material. All day you’re wet for him, just waiting and waiting. 
His touch is firm and you grind into it without thinking, making him laugh under his breath. “Shit,” he murmurs. “She needs it worse than I do, huh?” You don’t answer. Just dropping your head between your shoulder blades as he rubs circles against your clothed pussy. 
He retracts his hand, swiftly pulling your leggings down, exposing your puffy, wet folds to the cooler air. 
You stay folded over, forehead resting on your desk, ass arched in presentation. You don’t know what to expect next, your pulse thunders in your ear as you wait. 
His hands frame your cunt, spreading you wider so he can look closer. You’d be self-conscious being studied so closely if you were any less desperate for him to touch you. But all you can do you is silently beg him to do something. 
“Christ,” he murmurs reverently, dropping to his knees behind you. “Just a taste first.” It sounds like he’s talking to himself. You don’t care. 
You gasp sharply the second his tongue dips between your swollen lips. It’s so much better than your fingers and your frustrated, rushed orgasms last night. It’s so much better. 
He uses his whole face, diving deeper, as he groans into your pussy. Your meeting is still in progress, but the voices coming through your speakers could be speaking a foreign language. They mean nothing to you right now. 
The only thing that matters is between your legs. You’re almost embarrassed at how close you already are. You don’t know if you should say anything. If he cares if he makes you cum. Before you can think any harder, he’s back on his feet and you’re whimpering at the loss. 
“I know.” 
The soft clink of his belt followed by the sound of him unzipping his jeans has your knees weak. The thrill that shoots through you is like lightning, ripping through your system and activating every nerve in your body. 
Be good," he growls, dragging his cock through your slick.
“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the awe and the relief. The heat, the thickness, the pressure. It’s everything you need, but not enough at the same time. He continues for a moment, coating his length in your arousal as you try to swallow down your needy moans. 
He slots his blunt tip at your entrance, adding enough pressure to make you suck in air. Without even seeing it, you know it’s going to be a stretch. Like he can read your mind, or at least your body, he runs his hand soothingly over your spine. 
It shouldn’t melt your nerves so fast, but the gentle touch eases your mind. For reasons you can’t explain—feelings really, you feel safe. 
“We’ll start slow this time, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” 
And then he’s nudging into you, working you open around his wide cockhead. It’s mildly uncomfortable, but you welcome the dull ache. Your throbbing pussy has been begging for it. He pulls back, repeating the slow movement, splitting you open for him a little further each time. 
It makes you needy, you try to push back against him, but he only swats at your ass. “I told ya to be good.” 
Your cheeks feel hot at the scolding. 
“Sorry, Mr. Miller.” It comes out more confident than you expected, your voice smooth and low. 
You can feel the way his dick twitches at your response before he continues, painstakingly slowly, filling you up. You’re still frustrated, but each time he thrusts into you, your knees almost buckle and you know he hasn’t made it all the way in yet. You’re still hungry for that feeling, for his hips to meet your ass, flush. 
You can’t hold back your moans as he drags along your nerves. He already has your eyes rolling back and he’s not even fucking you yet. 
Until he stops, held still halfway inside of you. You blink your eyes open, trying not to whine. 
He says your name like he’s been calling it and you’ve been ignoring him. “Hmm?” you respond. 
“Think they’re waiting for your answer.” 
“Oh, shit.” 
Joel still doesn’t move. You unmute your mic, trying to steady your voice. “I’m really sorry, uh, can you repeat the question?” 
“Just confirming your mid-cycle reports are already submitted.” 
“Yes.” 
“Great.” 
You mute the mic again and Joel slams the rest of the way home, making you cry out in surprise. 
He doesn’t hold back now, his rough hand gripping your hip as he takes you, low grunts echoing in your room as he snaps his hips forward. Your ass ripples, bouncing off of him with every thrust and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin fill your ears. 
He hits so fucking deep at this angle, you can barely think. His balls slap against you and for some reason that makes you even more crazy for him. You meet his every thrust with the same energy, fucking hard. So hard your desk rattles, but neither of you can be bothered by it’s structural integrity. 
He keeps you on edge, pounding into you as the pressure builds. When you shift slightly, his cock drags over the devastating spot that makes you nearly wail.
“Yeah?” he asks as if you could respond right now. “Right there?” 
“Mmm,” is all you can manage. 
“Good. Let me have it. Rub that pretty clit of yours for me, I wanna feel her trying to milk me dry.” 
Fuck. His filthy words nearly send you over the edge immediately, but when you slip your own hand between your legs, it’s euphoric. Furiously working at your slick, swollen bundle of nerves you drive yourself to the brink. 
“Gonna–ah!--gonna cum,” You get the breathy, gasping words out right as your pussy starts to clench around him. He groans lowly, making you see stars as your climax tears through you. 
The waves are still rolling through your muscles, your core still tensing, when he pulls out. The slick sounds as he pumps his cock rapidly are obscene and you don’t want them to stop. But then you feel his hot cum painting your ass, and you’re moaning in unison. 
Then he’s pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before slinking out of your room. You grimace. Tuning back in to the speaker still rambling on about god knows what on your computer. Before you can move, Joel is back with a small towel to clean you up. 
You’re stuck in a daze. A blissed-out state, as you straighten up and pull your leggings back up. Joel’s about to slip back out the door as if nothing happened. Before he steps out of the room though, he gives you a knowing smirk, “You did good for me, darlin’.” 
You’re left staring at the closed door, breathless and trembling, the heat of his touch still lingering on your skin. Rent isn’t the problem anymore. Joel Miller is.
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alwaysobsessed777 · 3 days ago
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PANCAKES FOR DINNER - N.M.
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So I'm not sure how many words are in this....but there's not warnings, this is just kinda cute???Anyways....enjoyyyyyy
The car ride was tense. I hadn't planned on leaving so soon but work changed what it had wanted me to do. Nika's grip on the steering wheel bleached her knuckles, her jaw stayed tense. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I randomly sprang this info on her the last second. Our summer plans before she went back to UConn for summer training and I went back to working out my musical career were ruined.
"I'm really sorry about this...Nika, I'll make it up to you," her jaw seemed to relax, her hands loosened it's grip.
"No need to apologize, I'm just....I just wanted to spend this next month with you," I almost wanted to spill every feeling, every thought I had about this woman right now after hearing those words. But we were just friends, nothing more.
"sometimes I wish I had a normal dream, like, being a doctor or...or whatever other people want their jobs to be."
A smile spread across the girl's face, a silent celebration went off in my head. "Being the next big pop star is no easy thing. You're dreams were just stronger than others, that's why you're making it a reality."
"Becoming a professional basketball player isn't that easy either."
She snickered. "I'm far from professional, but I'll take it."
"College.... professional....same thing," I paused, "you'll definitely go pro though. You're literally amazing at what you do."
A silence stretched between us, a quiet awkwardness. "I don't know if I will."
"Nika, please, if they don't have you going to like the Aces or the Storm.... they've lost one of the best players to ever walk this Earth."
As heat rose to her cheeks, a small smirk formed on my lips, "Stop, that's the biggest lie you've ever told....and you've told a lot."
"I never lie," that was lie in itself. It's not like I've been lying to her for three years now on how I only wanna be friends.
"Puh-leahs, all you do is lie. Like, when I first met you, you thought you could fool me by saying your straight...did you think I was that stupid," I rolled my eyes, "but it is very kind of you to speak so highly of me." Her dramatic hand-to-the-heart, the batting of her eyelashes, I couldn't help but laugh a little.
The light banter almost making me forget the fact I was getting ready to get on a plane....key word, almost. My palms began to sweat, I could feel my mind start to spiral, I hated planes....and I was getting ready to get in one.
"Hey," The girl beside me slides her hand to my thigh, resting it there for some comfort. "You alright?"
"Aerophobia."
"What?"
"Fear of flying in planes," I quickly faced her, her face softened.
"It's gonna be alright, okay?" Her hand intertwined with mine. The warmth of her hands fighting with the chill of mine, it brought me back from my spiral. Only a little.
I nod, "look at me." Her hands encompassing my face, her thumbs rubbed gently across my cheekbones. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. I'll even wait here with you til you have to get on, alright?"
I nodded, pulling her into a hug. A hug from her seemed to make the rest of the world cease to exist. All I needed was her, her warmth, and the comfort she provided.
But, I couldn't have just that. I had to get on some stupid plane to achieve some stupid dream.
"Alright, we're gonna go inside and just chill til you get on the plane, okay?" I nod, "I better get a call when you land in Cali."
I chuckle, "you will. No doubts about it."
We walked in, hands together, and I couldn't help but let the nerves get to me again. "I wish you could come with me."
Nika's smile seemed to brighten the world around us, "if I could, I would. Sadly, I gotta stay here in ole Croatia and hang with the family."
"I'm gonna miss you," then my thoughts spiraled. The possibility of a crash, even though it was like 1 in 100,000 that I could get in a fatal one. The thought of never seeing Nika again. I wouldn't have been able to tell her how I feel....so I did it. "Nika, I just gotta let you know I have so many feelings for you. Not just the friendly ones, like, the more than friends ones. I wish I was with you, like, I like you so much. I just feel like I make things up in my head that you might like me too, then I go down this rabbit hole of you never actually liking me, not even as a friend. Anyways, I feel like when I'm around you I can't help but feel like the entire world couldn't provide me with as much happiness and you do. I....I...God I think I love you, Nika."
Her eyes widened, surprise mixed with whatever feelings she had towards me, it was written all over her face. I should've just jumped on the plane and hoped it crashed cause I felt more embarrassed now than ever before. At least I'd be at peace with being on the plane if it meant never knowing what Nika really wanted to say.
"How long have you thought that?"
Not the questions, "for...for about three years."
She nodded, stepping closer to me, "You really think I would ever not like you?
""Platonic or romantic?"
"Either."
"Both....I just thought I liked you so much I was making things up in m-"
She cut me off. Her lips crashed to mine. The way her hands pulled me impossibly closer by the waist. My hands shot to her hair, wanting to bring her even closer to me. I had always wanted this.
"God, I've wanted to do that for years," her whispered words left me shocked. I pulled back a bit.
"What?"
"Y/N, you have no clue how bad I've been wanting to do that. Ever since I've gotten to know you...it's like you draw me even closer...wanting more....needing more. I just thought maybe I was reading into things. You're confident and charming, why wouldn't I think you were like that with everyone. But to know you feel the same way....I wish I would've made the move a long time ago."
I couldn't help but smile. Her words causing a heat to rise through my neck, settling on my cheeks. "You're joking."
"Nope," popping the 'p', "I couldn't have been more serious in my life."
My flight was being called, and I couldn't help but notice the nerves had been settled...or I was just currently distracted by the fact Nika had feelings for me.
"So....I gotta go," before I could keep going, Nika planted another soft kiss on my lips, "but maybe I should tell my manager nevermind."
Her laughed filled the space, "Nope, gotta become the biggest pop star in the world. I need you to surpass Taylor Swift one day."
"Whatever," I turned to leave, but took one more glance back at the brunette, "I'll call you when I get off, promise."
A/N: I got one done after months of not being on here!!! Hopefully this is good...enough cause I don't know how I feel about it. @ittiwdwysylm here ya go, Nika fic out!!
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jinxificada · 5 hours ago
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regina george is so hot.
au!powder x reader
summary: she’s tired of bottling these tormenting desires, would you give her a hand?
notes: nsfw, modern au, 5,7k wc. loosely based on “naked in manhattan” by chappel roan. initially written abt jinx, but i decided to try with powder! um, i dunno why this is so damn long.. i hope it doesn’t suck, Don’t even ask me to proofread.
ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺
“regina george is so hot.” you hear her voice on your side, making you pause mid chewing.
it was one of your usual sleepovers; popcorn, movies. you also steal cans of beer from her dad’s bar right below the apartment. a routine you’ve set since you were 15.
“yeah..?” you frown in confusion, glancing at her curiously and then back at the screen of her laptop.
“I mean, don’t you agree?”
she pauses the movie to look at you and raising eyebrow expectantly. she already knew what your answer was.. the only right answer.
“obviously,” you play along, sipping on the beer as you avoid her gaze. “it’s just the way you said it… as if you’re attracted to girls.”
as far as you know, powder was straight— you both were. you’ve seen her drool over boys, the walls of her room covered with posters of male artists (and scientists), she loves to flirt around with the male population, never once casting a second glance at a girl like that. hell, you were pretty sure she currently had a thing with ekko.
she rolls her eyes and shoves your shoulder like you said the most ridiculous thing, “I’m just pointing out the obvious!”
it was an obvious statement that everyone can agree with. you just don’t mistakenly say it with such a yearning tone.
as you sit together, she takes another look at you with the corner of her eye, a curious thought running through her mind, her heart beating faster… she tries her best to not let it show, but she can’t help to keep drifting her eyes off the movie to you.
she has a pretty girl drinking beer and watching a movie as they laid on her bed.
and she’s yearning.
what if? she thinks to herself, before hastily trying to shut the thought down.
after a few minutes, she takes a long swig of the beer, hoping it’ll help her forget that silly idea…
she try to focus on the movie, but her mind is a growing mess. what if?... she looks over at you, taking in the way the light from the dimmed screen flashes over your face, enhancing your beauty.
what if i try?
no, she can’t. you’re friends. just friends.. you don’t cross lines like that. you can’t cross lines like that.
but.. it would be so easy to just reach out and… no, stop that.
powder tries her best to act normal, laughing and commenting on the movie with you, but that thought just won’t leave her mind.
curiosity just builds up more and more. her eyes keep roaming back to you, taking in every curve of your face, every move of your body, as my brain is fighting a battle against this sudden.. need to test the boundaries.
she shifts in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. her heart is skipping beats as she tries to make it casual, like it’s nothing. her fingers keep rubbing the muscle of her thigh, pretending to be massaging a cramp until she built the courage to finally speak.
“my leg is cramping,” she grumbled while rubbing and massaging her leg. “mind lending me a hand?” she says, hoping that her comment would pass out as a joke so she can forget about this.
you eye her, scoffing a quiet chuckle. “are you serious?”
there it is, she should laugh it off and focus on the movie. she should keep whatever desire she’s feeling buried deep inside and set her mind on ekko, the boy everyone knows has the hots for her—
“please?” she pleads. “it hurts so bad.”
she keeps gently rubbing her leg, and with a subtle shift in her position her oversized shirt rides up, revealing more of her thigh as she angles it slightly towards you.
her stomach flutters when your eyes travel towards her exposed skin. you hesitate, taking in the way her muscle twitches slightly, your left hand finally moves and falls on her pale thigh, starting to knead and immediately looking back at the movie.
powder almost let out a sigh of relief as your hand finally touches her. she watched intently as your hand massages her thigh, working the muscle.
you were so agreeable, too, never having trouble to convince you to do whatever she wanted.
she wondered how far she could take it. how much are you willing to please her..?
she leans back against the headboard of the bed, her mind racing as she silently enjoys the sensations of your touch.. the heat of your hand against her skin, the way your fingers gently press into her leg. her body is responding to your touch in a way it never has before, and it’s taking everything in her to stay in control.
she shifts uncomfortably on the bed, unable to focus on the movie anymore.
but you kept your hand close to her knee.
“is that good?”
she almost let out a squeak as a shudder runs through you. the innocent way in which you ask that, as if you’re genuinely just trying to be helpful, is almost too much for her to handle right now.
she nods quickly, swallowing hard. “y-yeah that’s perfect.” her voice coming out just a tad huskier than before.
you turn to look at her, smiling as you squeeze her thigh. she’s got smooth skin, the faintest freckles on them. you liked that she was a little fit.
“you know… it feels even better a bit higher up.”
the words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself.
but you comply, moving ever so slightly. “there?”
she bites her lip to hold back a soft whine.
“a little higher.. please?”
her heart is racing in her chest as she asks, knowing full well where she’s leading this.
“mmkay,” you chuckle quietly, moving even higher. was it you, or did her skin feel more heated?
she lets out a shaky exhale as your hand moves higher, almost to the top of her thigh. her muscles tense slightly as your finger brushes against the hem of her small tight shorts underneath her shirt.
“h-higher.” she breathes heavily, her body is buzzing with the heat rushing through her. she’s pushing it.
you hesitate briefly, complying anyway. your fingers slowly reaching her inner thighs…
you couldn’t be crazy. she felt so warm, a burning heat coming from between her legs. it was making you feel weird in your stomach.
her breath hitches at the feeling of your fingers on her sensitive skin, the buzzing in her body almost becoming overwhelming. her brain is foggy with this new sensation, the want and need to feel your touch all over her.
she shifts slightly, spreading her legs a bit wider. “like that…”
her hands grip the bed sheets tightly, silently praying you would keep going, to touch her more.
“don’t stop.” she pleads as she feels your fingers slowly tracing the top of her shorts.
“pow…” you mumble in a warning tone. you lick your lips, feeling your mouth dry.
but she’s got so far, you can’t deny her now. please don’t deny her now.
she leans forward, resting a hand on your knee. “please.” she practically whispers, all pretense of a thigh cramp gone. “i need it… i need you.”
an unknown sound leaves your mouth against your will, something like a whimper. you can’t meet her eyes as you move your hand higher, shyly sneaking under her shorts.
she shivers as your hand finally reaches where she wanted it, having to bite her lip again to keep any embarrassing sounds at bay.
“f-fuck.” she breathes, her body going rigid as your eyes meet again. all the tension, the desire.. you can see it all in the look she’s giving you.
it’s almost too much. why do you want to moan if it’s her the one being touched? you cover your face with your free hand, trying to hide how flustered you were.
you keep exploring between her legs. the almost all-consuming warmth, magnetically luring you.
she tries to suppress a moan at the feel of your hand, covering my mouth with my own hand as my other grips at the bed sheets tightly.
“fuck.. “ she curses again, her hips rocking against the touch. she’s losing all willpower to stop this now, and she can’t bring herself to care.
you touch her a bit more, flinching when you feel her arousal, pulling your hand away. “w-wait, wait.” you whimper, breathing heavily as you keep avoiding her gaze. you felt overwhelmed, flustered and confused.
and incredibly horny.
powder whined at the loss of contact, desperate for you to put your hand back but also a bit concerned with the look on your face.
she leans into you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “what’s wrong?” she asked, her own voice shaky.
“i-i don’t know what i’m doing—“ your lower lip trembled, the heat on your face making you feel even more embarrassed. “sorry, i’m sorry..”
she takes your face in her hands, making you look at her.
“hey.. it’s okay.” powder murmurs softly, soothing you. “don’t worry about it, alright?”
she tries to hide the disappointment from her voice, but neither of you can deny that the feeling of your hands on her was electrifying. tantalizing the vulnerable boundaries of your friendship and sexuality.
“let’s just... let’s just watch the movie, okay?”
you lean into her, hiding in the crook of her neck as you grasp her shirt, powder has her arms wrapped around you in a heartbeat, holding you against her.
“you’re okay.“ she whispers, trying her best to soothe you and ignore the fact she’s painfully aroused right now.
“i’m sorry…” you mumble again, now conscious of her real needs. you wanted to please her, you actually did. you were just so overwhelmed in the moment, the sudden wetness that pooled in your core scared you.
she leans back against the headboard of the bed, with you in her arms. she smelled so good, you didn’t wanna leave this spot.
“…let me try again.” you whisper shyly, now your right hand teasing the edge of her shorts.
powder sucks in a sharp breath as your hand moves back to the edge of her shorts, her body going rigid.
“are you sure? “ she asks hesitantly, still wary of your reaction, and unsure if she could handle the disappointment of you stopping again.
“mmhm,” you nod into her neck, grateful that she can’t see your furious blush. your hand goes back under her clothes, letting out a shaky breath when you feel her pussy with your fingers again.
powder bites her lip to hold back a moan, her head falling back against the headboard, fighting her body to keep her hips from rocking against your palm. she grabs your shirt, fisting the fabric tightly in your hand as she concentrates on her breathing.
“w-wait..” she gasps, trying to speak coherent words as her brain is getting foggy by the pleasure building inside her.
“w-what?” you quickly slip away again, worried that you might have done something wrong, but she reached out, taking your hand in hers and bringing it back to her shorts, guiding you where she wanted you.
“no…” she says, and this time despite her own voice betraying her, she tries to sound more reassuring. “i just… i just need you to keep going.. faster.”
“like this?” you murmur, hesitantly rubbing in circles.
she lets out an unashamed moan as your finger teases her clit, her hand gripping your shoulder as if trying to ground herself.
“y-yeah.. just like that.” her praise is a faint sigh, closing her eyes as the pleasure you’re providing her is the only thing occupying her mind.
you moan too, you can’t help it, your sounds quiet and muffled. she felt so hot, she sounded so hot. you were growing agitated, relishing in the ravenous way she moved her hips into you.
she’s almost shaking now, her body desperately wanting more, wanting release. her breathing is labored as she tries to speak.
“m-more, hm..please.” she manages to gasp out, letting her hand fall from your shoulder to grip the sheets once more.
you obey, paying close attention to which movements made her twitch and moan the most.
powder’s torn between keeping her mouth shut, in a desperate attempt to hold back all the needy moans and whines that threaten to spill from her mouth, and cry out loud, to let the neighbors know how good you’re making her feel.
she struggles to keep her body under control, but your every touch feels like she’s on fire, a ticking bomb waiting to explode. and she doesn’t want anything more than to just give into the pleasure.
her body writhing from your voracious stimulation, she’s not even trying to hold back anymore. she clutches at your arm as your touch grows confident, fingers spreading her folds, reaching her tight entrance to gather her fluids and go back to furiously rub her clit, learning that it was what made her react the most.
she was so close, so close... just a little more, and she’s almost there. powder pressed her hand against her mouth again, trying to stifle a deep moan coming from the back of her throat.
“jinx…” you whine quietly, your hand getting drenched in her juices as you work on her pussy. “‘wanna hear you…”
she instantly removes her hand from her mouth, her eyes closed and her mind so overwhelmed from the pleasure and her impending orgasm that she’s not even really aware of what’s happening anymore, her whole focus fixed on you, and the pleasure you’re giving her.
“s-so close—!“ she gasps.
you can’t stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together as she’s making little whines and whimpers in the back of my throat that sound completely needy at this point, aching for release.
“please,” she begged breathlessly. “i’m almost.. i’m so close, i just need a little more…”
her fingers dig into your arm, and you’re pretty sure if she squeezes any tighter her nails would draw blood.
the whine leaving her mouth ringed in your ear, the tension starting to peak. her thighs squeezes your hand, and to your surprise, she got more wet. her creamy orgasm moistened your palm, her body shocking sharply, scaring you for a second. but she doesn’t let you pull back, so you keep touching her as she rides her high.
just after a whole minute she stops trembling that much.
she keeps her eyes closed, her body still trembling ever so slightly. she feels boneless, like all her energy just left her body.
after a few seconds, she managed to blink her eyes open and find your worried gaze.
powder lets out a shaky exhale, and her hand moves from your arm to your cheek.
“i’m okay…“ she assures you, her voice sounding hoarse. she keeps her hand against your cheek, and she’s struck by the way you’re looking at her, your face still flushed with color.
“fuck, jinx…” you mumble with a frown, leaning into her hand. you can barely meet her eyes without getting even more flustered. your hand is still inside her shorts.
she chuckled softly, still feeling the afterglow from her orgasm.
“you can take your hand away now…” she murmured, her thumb stroking your cheek.
you flush in embarrassment, quickly shifting away. you look down at your hand, completely drenched in her fluids, her eyes follow your gaze, taking a moment to collect herself and then sit up, bringing a hand to your chin to turn you face her.
“hey..” she says softly, her voice still a tad shaky. “you okay?”
“gotta clean up,” you blurted, rushing to the bathroom in an attempt to escape the awkwardness that filled your body.
what the hell just happened…?
she watches as you dart away, feeling her stomach drop nervously as you leave, she takes a deep breath and tried to clear my head, suddenly realizing the mess that is still between her thighs.
powder gets up and grabs a towel from a nearby chair, using it to clean herself off before throwing it in the laundry basket.
she considers following you to the bathroom, but she’s not sure if she should. you needed a minute to yourself, and she was worried about making things awkward.
more than it already was.
she sits back down on the bed, still a little shaken from what just happened. you both knew your friendship would never be the same after tonight.
you liked to believe otherwise. desperately. it was probably the heat of the moment, she was horny and you was there, so you gave her a hand. that was it.
though the wetness between your legs said that you were indeed affected by this.
you tried to ignore it.
you get out of the bathroom and make your way back next to her in the bed, not sparing her a glance as you fix the computer where it was and go back the minutes you missed from the movie.
powder can’t help the way her heart twinges a little as you keep your distance and don’t even look at her. it hurts more than she’d like to admit. she’s starting to think that maybe, maybe she did read this whole situation wrong.
so she keeps quiet, unsure of what to say now that you’re back. she can’t even pretend to focus on the movie, her thoughts whirling in her head.
her eyes keep stealing glances at you, searching your face for any clue as to how you feel. she’s trying to find some hint of that flush on your cheeks, something to give her some hope that what you did affected you just as much as it did to her.
the only hint she gets is the way your thighs are pressed so tightly together that it's almost like you're trying to hold back any evidence of what just happened.
you sit there in the quiet of the room, the only sound being the movie playing on the computer. she’s growing antsy, desperate to know if this changed your friendship or not.
finally, her impatience wins over and she can’t sit quietly anymore. she breaks the silence, her voice uncharacteristically small.
“are we not going to talk about it?”
you frown instantly, distractedly taking some popcorn.
“if you want,” you say, trying so hard to feign nonchalance.
you hear powder sigh a bit too loudly, she’s taken back by your response. she tries not to let it bother me as she gathered her thoughts.
“i just…” she begins, hesitating a little. “i just wanted to know if…” she trails off, not sure how to ask her next question. she bites her lip, trying to summon the courage to just spit it out. “were you.. okay with.. what we did?” she finally managed to ask, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. she was trying to keep her voice even, but it was obvious she was a little nervous about your answer.
your thighs clenched again, letting out a shaky breath.
“y-yeah, sure. i just.. helped you out.” you try to dismiss again, ignoring your own blush and arousal.
“just helped out?” she echoed, a little bitterly.
she bites her lip, unable to keep the pang of disappointment from her heart.
she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this nonchalant attitude. she forced herself to continue, trying to keep the emotion from her voice.
“so you didn’t.. enjoy it at all?”
you look at her, wide eyed. “w-we’re not like that, jinx.” you reminded her, scared of your own reactions, you… feelings. “i dunno…”
she feels something inside her twist in an unpleasant way, and she fights to control her face and keep the disappointment buried deep inside her.
“you’re right.. we’re just friends...” I murmur as realization sets in that you really didn’t see anything more about what you did.
she forces herself to look away, staring back at the movie screen so you don’t see the emotions in her face.
but she’s your friend, of course you’d notice.
you don’t like seeing her like that, instantly urging you to comfort her. you cuddle her side, pouting softly as you wrap your arms around her waist. it felt right.
her breath hitches in her throat when she feels your arms wrapping around her. she leaned into your body instinctively, her head falling on your shoulder.
It feels like you’re offering some comfort, some kindness, after the rejection she’s feeling.
“friend’s help each other out.” she murmured half jokingly under her breath, sounding a bit self-deprecating.
you repeat her words in your mind, growing more and more conscious of the burning feeling in my core.
maybe…
you nuzzle into her neck for a moment, before daring to speak. “c-could you help me?”
she’s completely caught off guard by your words, her eyes widening a little as she looks at you. your words had so much implication behind them.
“hel you..?” she asks slowly, trying to get you to clarify. a part of her didn’t want to get her hopes up in case she was misinterpreting it.
you’re quick to specify, taking her left hand to press it over your pants, almost naturally rocking your hips enthusiastically. she’s sure she has never seen you so… demanding.
“it’s aching…” you whimper softly, “you made me feel like this…”
she sucks in a breath as she feels the heat coming from your core. she lets her hand linger on your shorts as her eyes roam your face.
“i did..?” she says, surprise coloring my voice. she’s surprised that this effect you were having on her was mutual. “but I thought we’re just friends?” you noticed the faintest smirk tugging at her lips, naturally teasing you.
though powder almost doesn’t believe what’s happening right now. she keeps her hand between your legs, moving a little closer to you, her eyes fixed on your face.
“so you like it when i touch you like this?” she asks in a voice laced with both surprise and just a hint of smugness.
you’re instantly crumbling, nodding fervently as you hide in her neck again, breathing heavily.
“hurry…”
powder slowly drags her hand up your shorts, her fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear, and she takes a moment to revel in the way your breath stutters out, your body shifting restlessly against her.
“hurry..?” she mocked, “are you… impatient?”
“n-no, please don’t tease me jinx.” i begged, grasping onto her shirt. “i helped you out, please.”
she chuckled softly at your adorable begging. “‘can’t help it, you’re just too cute when you’re horny.” she tells you, before giving in to your pleading.
her hand moves further into your shorts, her fingers slowly rubbing against the throbbing button in your panties and drawing out a shaky gasp from you.
“like this, is this what you need?” she murmured, her tone still just a little titillating, but her words were sincere.
“you know it is,” you pouted, buckling your hips into her touch.
“mhmm,” she hummed, pleased to know she’s teased you enough to break you. she keeps her touch light, her fingertips circling teasing you without doing enough to actually give you any real relief.
“you’re already so worked up...” she remarks, feeling the wetness that’s already leaking into your underwear. “i didn’t even do that much to you.” she teases again, enjoying the way you gasp and writhe against her.
she brushes her lips against your neck, nipping and kissing on the sensitive skin. “you’re such a mess…” she murmured against your skin.
you grunted, moving your hand to grip her hair. “please—“ you breathed out into her jaw.
she hears the pleading in your voice, mixed in with just a hint of annoyance, and she can’t help the way her stomach twists with arousal at the sound.
“alright, i won’t tease anymore” she soothes, her fingers moving a little firmer against you, searching for a way to give you what you need.
you whine softly, your back arching into her, you were a tangled mess, her laptop once again sliding to the side as you kept shifting in the bed. you felt her breath against your cheek…
you kinda wanted to kiss her.
she lets her eyes roam over your face, taking in your flushed skin and your parted lips. powder was having a hard time concentrating with you so close, just like you, your every thought circling back to the fact that you wanted to kiss her.
“you’re so pretty.” she murmured absentmindedly, her fingers rubbing a little harder, deciding that she also wanted more, she slipped her hand underneath your panties, caressing your cunt shamelessly and pushing two fingers inside you at once, bringing out a guttural moan from you.
your eyes flickering from her lips to her blue hooded gaze. your chin tilted up without you realizing, feeling dizzy.
she noticed your eyes lingering on her lips, and her breath stuttered for a moment in her chest, feeling her own desire welling up.
she knows she probably shouldn’t kiss you, that it would change everything. but you’re right there, your parted lips so close to hers, and she finds she doesn’t have the self control to stop herself any longer. if she ever had it at all.
her fingers pause agonizingly inside you, as she leaned her head in and closed the distance, pressing her lips against yours before you could let out the irritated cry of complaint.
it’s short, sweet. you kissed her back before pulling away, shyly meeting her eyes for a second.
she pulls back a moment after you, feeling dazed from the short lived kiss. she keeps her eyes trained on you as she tries to regain her bearings a little.
“you didn’t seem to mind that very much.” she commented a little breathlessly, a small smile forming on her lips as she takes in your flushed expression.
you can only frown, tugging at her hair to pull her down again, kissing her deliberately, making her gasp a little in surprise her hair getting tugged harder by your grip as your lips press against hers. she has a moment to react before her mind melts away, and she just leans into you in a more heated kiss.
with her hand still between your thighs, the rest of her body follows as she settles on top of you, her other hand keeping itself propped up in the bed.
the kiss turns just a little more desperate, her tongue seeking out your mouth as it becomes harder to concentrate, but she finds she doesn’t particularly mind.
it gets messier, your dizziness making it hard for tou to follow her pace, her tongue and yours clashing everywhere. you moaned into her lips, grinding your hips against her hand. you felt little tears pricking in the corner of your eyes from the building pleasure.
she moaned with you, her hand moving a little more urgently against you, pounding her fingers mercilessly. and if it weren’t for the way she’s propped up on top of you, she would have probably started to grind against you a little herself.
you have to pull back from the kiss, a growling sound escaping from your throat as your back arches to press into her chest. she was hitting your sweet spot with an unrelenting pace.
she watches in awe as you curled into her hand, her mouth almost going dry at the sight of your face so overcome with pleasure. her breathing is labored as she tries to keep her hand in the most steady pace, her eyes never leaving your face.
“right there?” she asks urgently, her tone almost a little desperate for you to answer.
“yes” you sobbed, tears streaming down your reddened warm cheeks. “feels so good, hm— i can’t..” you blabbered.
her need to make you feel good, to give you the release you’ve been seeking takes over all my thoughts, powder is utterly fascinated by you, and she’s consumed in the urge to make you fall apart.
her fingers continued their assault on your abused pussy, pushing you to delirium. you never thought powder could be so talented with her hand, if your mind was clearer you would’ve questioned how did she know where and how to push the right buttons. her thumb moved to play with your unattended clit as her face leaned close to your ear.
“don’t cry.” she urged, her voice low and gravelly. “i’m going to take care of you, okay? i’m going to make you feel so good. just tell me you’re mine.”
it felt so good hearing that, just as much as it confused you. “w-what?”
in reality, her own words had surprised her, powder felt herself faltering for a moment. she didn't mean to say that, but with you so vulnerable and desperate beneath her, it just came out.
“just—“ she begins, attempting a confident voice. “just tell me you’re mine right now. that’s all i need.”
you comply without thinking much, her words making you impossibly wetter.
“m’yours.” you whimpered, “i’m yours, jinx, only yours.”
powder shivers a little at your words as a possessive feeling seizes her heart, making her want to pull you even closer and never let go.
“good.” she murmurs, as she returns her body against yours, her head nuzzling into your neck. she continues her touch, fucking you at a frantic, almost animalistic pace, the wet sounds of your cunt lasciviously echoing in her room. “now be a good girl and come for me”
she doesn’t have to tell you twice, reaching your peak effortlessly under her touch. you can’t say you really tried to control your body, feeling possessed by something else, something bigger than you. powder doesn’t stop her movements until you’ve ridden out the aftershocks and your body relaxes, a sense of pride welling up in her chest at seeing you come apart so easily for her.
she buries her head into your shoulder, taking a couple more deep breaths to slow her thoughts. she’d be lying to herself if she said this didn’t mean more to her than just two friends helping each other out.
so she rather don’t say anything for a moment, just listening to the sound of your breathing as your body comes down from the high. she let some of the possessive feelings wash away, settling on just enjoying the contentment of staying so close to you.
you feel more calm, but you were craving something. tugging at her hair again gently, you pull her face close to yours.
her eyes lift her head to look at you. her heart stutters seeing you looking so flushed, your hair messy around your head.
“what is it?” she asked softly, resting her chin on your chest.
“kiss,” you mumble so quietly that you barely hear yourself.
a flicker of surprise briefly passes through her mind as she registers your words, her chest almost clenching at the soft and almost shy tone of your request.
her blue eyes search your face for a moment before her gaze lands on your lips. she moved into them without another word, pressing her lips softly against yours.
she parts her lips against yours, taking a moment to relish in the sweet feeling of your mouth against hers. she gently slides her tongue into your mouth, savoring you in a different way than she did before. her hand moving up from your shorts to caress your neck.
but you pull back reluctantly, taking her wrist in your hand.
“dirty fingers.” you point out.
she lets out a sheepish chuckle, her cheeks flushing as she realized her dirty fingers had just touched your skin. “you’re right...” she murmurs, holding up her hand a little bit to look at the evidence staining her fingers.
she brings her messy fingers to her mouth and starts to lick them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as she watches your reaction.
oh my god…
your eyes widened, your darkened gaze fixed on the way she tasted you so greedily, an intense blush creeps on your cheeks as she hollowed hers, humming in delight.
a satisfied smile appeared on her lips as she saw the color on your face and felt the way your breath stutters as you watch her suck her fingers clean.
“you taste so good.” she praised, loving the way her words make you squirm a little underneath her.
“what is it?” she asks, amused at your pouty expression. she shifts her weight a little so she’s leaning on her forearms, hovering above you. she takes a moment to admire the sight of you splayed beneath her, disheveled and breathless from her touch.
you let her now bring her hand up to caress your flushed cheek, her eyes roaming between your face and that pouty mouth of yours. “tell me what you’re thinking,” she whispered, though her voice still sounded a little rougher than usual. “you’re not… not regretting what we just did again, right?”
“n-no, no, i don’t regret it.” you rushed to say, stumbling over your words. you can’t stand the way her mouth pouted at you, anticipating the worst. “that’s.. sort of the problem, pow… i, um—”
“the problem?” she interrupted, *almost* scowling.
“i mean, not the problem,” you tried to correct yourself. “this is just, um, new.”
ah.
she almost sighs in relief as you explain yourself, her shoulders relaxing. powder lets her body rest more heavily on top of you, her head dipping down so she could rest her chin on your shoulder without having to prop herself up with her arms.
“new and good?” she inquires quietly against your ear, needing to hear the answer to quell her nervousness.
you slowly move your arms to embrace her as she keeps her head nestled in the crook of your neck, cuddling warmly. you’re suddenly consumed with the desire to breathe in the scent of her hair.
“you need time to process things?” she suggested in a murmur into your skin, closing her eyes and just relishing in your closeness for the moment.
“yes,” you quavered, appreciating her understanding. your grip tightened, giving in to your desires as your nose pressed into her soft blue hair. “but don’t leave.”
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holyguardian · 6 hours ago
Text
Aerith hummed again, deeply anchored by her task. It wasn't that she was avoiding glancing up at him in conversation. It was a fine balance of multitasking, tackling this behemoth of a task while keeping up some banter with Somnus.
After all, he wasn't posing for her pleasure of viewing him. He was her reference. The glances and lingering looks were mostly tied to the painting. Mostly.
"... I don't know, but I can guess." she offered, because it was the truth. "There aren't many Cetra left. The farmlands are mostly people who don't have magic, and it's not so much the hard-working citizens who ask those bold questions. It's usually people in the circles of nobility who... are bored?" Or who had egos that could barely fit inside the room without smothering those around them. "I think... not growing up with something in your own family... I can see why it may seem like fairytales and make believe."
It was a more optimistic outlook. Sometimes people were simply mean-spirited to be mean-spirited but she had to hope that wasn't the case for the majority.
His next question gave her reason enough to pause. The paint brush lowered and she sighed a quiet breath, gathering her thoughts before she looked up at him.
She didn't look upset at him for the question. Though the hint of a smile on her face was a saddened one. How had he done that? How had he arrived at the same thread of thoughts she had hesitantly plucked at.
"I was wondering if that would be cruel of me to offer." Aerith admitted, straightening her posture a little. "His family would have to be prepared. That means... it may not happen. I could seek their permission, and then Nikolaos may not wish to leave. It's not as simple as asking him and then scheduling in an appointment, if I could reach him and ask the question... his family would have to be prepared then and there to receive a visit from his spirit. The Lifestream isn't an exact science. With Nikolaos only recently departing, I have no doubt it will be easier to find him, but... his family would have to be prepared for disappointment all the same."
Her head shook a little. "I don't know these people. They don't know me. On one hand I don't want to devastate them if I can't reach Nikolaos. On the other hand is it my right to decide what's best for them, if there's a good chance they can say farewell?"
She looked down again, and again she lifted her paintbrush, quietly resuming where she had left off. "I thought about not asking, and simply praying after the burial rites have concluded. But... it shouldn't be a spectacle. It should be something done in private. I just don't know how to convince his family, maybe... asking them to join me in a prayer? To offer them a chance to speak with the Lifestream... I really don't know."
There it was again. How she changed. From that teasing and sarcastically prodding girl to how she was now. A little withdrawn, shy. It was as if a flower changed colours as the sun retreated from it.
She did not even look to him anymore, completely sunken into her painting. And yet he could not even tear his eyes from her, as she slowly revealed what she could do.
How could people ridicule her for this? How could they not believe her? Was she not their Princess? Was she not the living proof of ancient Cetran magic flowing through the farmlands? How could they taste the sweet juices of the fabled harvests and yet doubt any word that came from their Princess’ lips?
What she told sounded like a miracle.
“But why would they do that?”, that question came first. He did not even ask her whether she really could do that. He believed her. It sounded so fantastic; it should go beyond any imagination. The Lifestream obeyed her, though, he had seen that. And seemingly the limits and borders of death did not apply to a Cetran’s voice.
All this, it formed another thought. A question that made his tongue dry for a moment, hesitant. Somnus was unsure whether he overstepped if asking for this. Was this treating it like a party trick? No… certainly not…
“… would you be able to ask Nikolaos whether he wants to say farewell to his family?”
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hopeswriting · 2 years ago
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[Gifs description slightly expanded upon alt text: gifs of Amelia Pond and the Eleventh Doctor, from the TV show Doctor Who (2005). They’re in a baby’s room, with Amy being heavily pregnant.
She kneels next to Rory's ashes, slightly rocking herself, looking up at the Doctor. She says, "Save him. You save everyone, you always do. It's what you do."
"Not always," the Doctor says, standing and fidgeting with his fingers. A close-up on Amy's face shows her tearful eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks. Her slight hopeful smile disappears, her face turning cold. "I'm sorry," the Doctor says, looking down, and the close-up on his face shows his regretful expression.
Amy turns scornful and accusing as his words sink in. She leans forwards, saying, "Then what... is the point of you?"
The Doctor looks down again, staying silent.
The camera goes back to a wide shot of Amy, showing her tenderly grasping onto Rory's ashes. The camera still does a close-up on the Doctor’s face, showing him mouth something as he makes to move forwards and closer to Amy, but hesitates to do so. /End GD]
This is the dream. Definitely this one. Now, if we die here, we wake up, yeah? (in bold) Unless we just die. (in plain text) Either way, this is my only chance of seeing him again. This is the dream. (in bold) How do you know? (in plain text) Because if this is real life, I don’t want it (”it” is italicized). I don’t want it.
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grugruel · 2 months ago
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Can you do that for me?
Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
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Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.
Wordcount: 4.2 k
Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.
AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIES🎀
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Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"
"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."
The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.
Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.
Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.
He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"
The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."
The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.
The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."
The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.
She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.
With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.
She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.
She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.
In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.
Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.
All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.
The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.
She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.
Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.
"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.
"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."
A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."
And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.
Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.
His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.
"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"
Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.
"Good, good . . . " she moans.
While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."
A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."
He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."
He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.
"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"
His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "
Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.
"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."
His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.
He doesn't answer, he only obeys.
It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.
Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.
"Dont hold back," she says.
There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"
She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With no further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.
Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.
The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.
He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.
With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.
"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.
"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.
"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.
"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.
He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.
Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.
Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.
She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.
"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawn out orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.
"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they ached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she can not reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.
As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.
After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.
Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.
"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.
She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.
His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.
Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.
"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.
"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.
She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.
They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.
All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.
She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.
Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.
"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.
He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.
Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"
His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had to–the hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."
Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.
"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."
She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."
"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seen–" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."
Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.
She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.
"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.
She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.
With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.
"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.
Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.
She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.
"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.
"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.
"Certainly," he murmurs against them.
She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.
One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.
His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.
She squirms beneath his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.
With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.
She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.
Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.
"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.
She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.
Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."
Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.
He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.
"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.
Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.
Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.
She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.
He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.
She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.
Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.
She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.
He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.
His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.
A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeper–better than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"
He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.
Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."
His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.
With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.
"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.
Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.
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muse-hodgepodge · 15 hours ago
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It was something that normally would stump the scientist as he tries to follow her work best he can for the few seconds he could form enough to watch or help. However, now that he's been shattered literally across space and time in the void it was something he could grasp much better being a contradiction of his own. After all, he should have just turned to dust but no he'd somehow survived it all... In a way. Which is how he found himself trusting this strange blue lizard woman with more and more of his soul and finally just allowed himself to stop forming, just residing in the shattered remains of it as she returns to Sans.
Sans for his part chuckles at what she says, "yeah I can agree with that statement..." And boy was he glad for it right now... At least, tentatively. After all there was still that huge, overwhelming feeling of dread that something bad would happen but he was trying to be hopeful. When she presents his dad's soul to him he can immediately tell a shard is missing, likely why the soul was still in pieces. The skeleton almost feels that hope crash until she speaks up again.
"It's inside my soul...? T-That might explain why only I can remember him... and the resets... Shit that's kind of overwhelming..." He shakes a little, bones rattling quietly at the idea of what would need to happen for multiple reasons. "I..." he pauses as the image of himself dusting crosses his mind thanks to his low hp but he steels himself, "I trust you... You've done some crazy shit since I've met you so... I trust you... Just, be careful y'know...? It's pretty fragile." Sans gives a little dry chuckle before he places his hand to his chest in order pull forth his soul to make it easier for Reyna to get access to it and he stares at all the cracks in it with a heavy sigh.
It took time and effort, time that didn't have an effect on her body. A blessing from a mixture of her divine power and the fact her timeline hopping kept her relatively incoporeal. She was both there and not. Then and never. It was confusing, but it was easy to just say she was a contradiction in existence. Regardless, it wasn't hard to find all the shards, except for one still missing. She knows where it is, when it is even. Making her return trip all the more poignant.
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"I honestly just do what I can to help. I'm luckily, quite capable of a lot." Reyna says before showing the shards. One piece is missing. "...He's within you still. A little bit of him, stuck inside your soul right now. I need to gently remove it, and place it back. Do you trust me to try this?" She asks him.
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entitled-fangirl · 5 months ago
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Direwolf.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: Cregan's direwolf is spoiled by the reader.
A/n: Based on ask! Also I'm running a fever, so I'm praying this makes sense
Masterlist
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"Perhaps it was an idiotic thought from the start," Cregan mutters as he views the sight before him. 
His sweet wife sat on the ground of the dining hall, lavishing their dire wolf in affection. 
Well, Cregan's direwolf.
Well, it was supposed to be Cregan's. 
He had found the wolf not long before he became the Lord of Winterfell. Now, after almost seven years with the animal, their bond was inseparable. 
So when Cregan's wife joined the mix, Cregan was nervous.
But she had a love for Dark Night, as did the large beast for her. 
"I find it sweet," the Maester said with a light smile. "It is important the two get along, isn't it? Better than fighting for your attention, I'd wager."
"That's the thing," Cregan sighed. "Neither of them needs my attention. They're content on their own."
The maester chuckled, looking at the sight of the woman and wolf before excusing himself.
Cregan walked to the pair, holding his hand out to his wife. "C'mon, sweet girl."
Y/n looked up with a smile and took his hand, brushing off dust from her skirt as she did so. 
Dark Night let out a low coo, sitting up and nuzzling at her thigh.
"Seems I'll have to fight for even a moment with you," Cregan smiled as he tucked his face into her neck.
She let out a soft giggle. "Don't be so upset, Cregan. You know you always have my heart."
He chuckled with her, pulling away and leading her to the dining table, pulling out her chair before sitting across from her. 
The two talked of mundane things as usual: their day, the problems of the North, ideas they had, anything and everything. 
Finally, Cregan tilted his head with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing?"
She looked at him with wide eyes, as if caught in a horrid lie. "N…nothing."
He simply stared, his hands resting atop the table. "Are you feeding Dark Night under the table?"
She reaches to pick something off of her plate, lowering it below the table. "No?"
He leaned back in his chair with an incredulous look and a chuckle, "You little minx. He eats enough, you know that."
"Well, yes, but," she gave a shrug. "He just looks at me so pitifully, I cannot say no."
She reached up to grab more, but Cregan stopped her, "Don't."
She paused, "Cregan-"
"-Do not spoil that damn dog. He is fine."
Before long, Dark Night's large head weighed down on Cregan's lap from under the table, a longing look in the animal's eyes. 
Cregan looked down at him with a tight lip and a shaking head, "Your methods may work on our sweet girl, but you will get nothing from me."
The wolf nuzzled in more, trying to get Cregan's attention still. 
Finally, Cregan waved his hand out at the wolf, "Get. Go on. You have already been fed today."
Dark Night accepted the defeat and left the dining hall, an obvious annoyance in the way he walked. 
"Now," Cregan sighed. "Let us try to speak again."
A few hours later, Cregan entered their chambers in pure exhaustion. 
The day had been longer than he had hoped, and he wanted nothing more than time with his wife.
Seeing her curled up on the sofa next to the fireplace warmed something inside of him. 
He came from behind, leaning down to place a kiss on the crown of her head. 
She hummed, looking up from her book. "Hello, lovely."
A small whine sounded in the room.
Cregan's brow furrowed as he scanned the room for his wolf. 
"Why is he on the bed?"
She leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to see that the wolf had indeed found a comfortable place on their bed. She shrugged, "He was there when I got here. I didn't have the heart to move him."
Cregan gripped her shoulders from behind, gently massaging them. "I've had this wolf years, and never has he even been allowed the notion that being upon the bed was allowed."
She smiled as she looked over her shoulder at Cregan this time, "He's been so wonderful today. Let him stay."
He leaned down to her ear, a teasing smile across his face, "Why should I?"
She let out a hum. "Please, Cregan."
"Please what?" He teased.
Her head leaned back against the back of the sofa, "You know what you're doing, Lord Stark."
He smirked, leaning up and moving to the bed, "Up."
Dark Night lifted his head to look at Cregan.
Y/n immediately gets off of the couch, "Cregan."
"I mean it," he complains. "That dog cannot run this castle." 
"He's not," she comes as she moved to Dark Night, petting his fur.
"My love, he-" Cregan froze completely, eyeing the dog. "A collar? You've bought him a collar?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps."
Cregan crosses his arms, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "Gods, you're gonna be the death of me."
"He's being so sweet, Cregan. Look at him!"
Cregan looked down, seeing his sweet wife practically laying on the large animal.
He shook his head, a large smile coming across his face. "As long as there is still room for your husband."
"Oh, always, Cregan."
Cregan woke up in the night, pulling at the blanket that would not move. He leaned up on his elbows, seeing the giant dire wolf that laid on his wife's feet, holding the blanket down underneath him. 
Cregan heaved a great sigh, but inside, he really didn't mind.
He was glad the two greatest things in his life cared for each other. It made his occasional absence to the Wall less guilt wracked. 
He knew they'd keep each other warm until he came back.
.....................................
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quimichi · 5 months ago
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˚ ✦ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐃 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔  .  * 
WARNINGS: skin to skin contact, cuddling, it's all fluff but yk, pet names, light NSFW, I apologize if my view of these characters do not line up with yours or they may seem inaccurate, this is a mess btw, + lazy editing
SUMMARY: The love of their life/favorite person (you) graced them with love, affection and skin to skin contact...
CHARACTERS: Everyone x F!Creator Reader
WORD COUNT: 20.680
A/N: This was written before Natlan came out soo no Natlan characters yet. Also, the platonic parts are shorter. I unfortunately can't add more tags, they somehow stopped.
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Aether
Aether is all too happy to spend his time with you on the cliffside; he leans against you, his head resting idly against your shoulder. Whenever he speaks, his breath would brush against your neck, tickling you gently. He is practically melting against you; he’s like a clingy cat, enjoying every second your warm skin touches his. "I've missed you," he says softly, lifting his head to gaze up at you with a dreamy smile.
You can't help but chuckle, "Understandable, you're barely by my side. You always end up traveling over Teyvat." Aether’s expression softens. He looks a little guilty when you bring up travelling, but his arms tighten around you, pulling his body a little closer.
”I know I’m always off adventuring…but I always come back to you. I always come back to you.” He pauses, and then he smiles a little wider. He seems cheeky when he adds: ”You do remember that, right?”
You pinch his cheek, such a brat sometimes. Aethers face scrunches up as you gently pinch his cheek. He looks disgruntled for a few moments, before he grins. His expression becomes warm and soft when he returns to the conversation. ”Well, as long as you remember,” he says with a smile. His gaze flits to the side for a moment, as he looks up at the sky; the sun is setting, casting warm light upon the landscape. He shivers.
”It’s getting cold.” he grins again, before he nestles himself comfortably against you. He wraps his arms around your midriff, trying to pull you closer.
”And you’re so warm,” he mutters, burying his face against you. He’s enjoying this more than a little...
Albedo
He can't help it. He wraps his arms around you, clinging to you almost desperately. He doesn't care how it looks or how utterly pathetic he seems as he clings to you. "Your Grace..." he mumbles, shifting further to bury his head against your collarbone. His hold on you has grown almost like an iron grip, as though he expects you to vanish the second he lets go.
He seems terrified, in a way, of the thought that this is merely an ephemeral dream. That he'll wake up and find himself by his shrine in the cold with only a lingering memory of your warm touch. He fears that any second, you would pull away and he would be left empty and wanting more. Like an addict deprived of their fix, he fears and craves for your touch with his whole heart. "Hmm?" a hum escapes you as you mindlessly stroke his hair. Albedo's body seems to loosen like liquid as you stroke his hair. He leans against you, almost desperately soaking up the affection like an addicted man.
"Your Grace..." he mumbles again, shivering as you run your hands through his silky strands. The action is so simple, and yet he seems to relish in the feeling. His arms are still around you, and they tighten again as you stroke his hair. After being deprived of affection for so long, he can't help but cling to you as though you'll slip away the second he lets go.
"Please don't... leave, ever"
Amber
She sighs softly as ahe curls against you, he back against your chest. The sound of the breeze gently blowing the blades of the windmill makes her smile faintly, as her eyes flutter shut. Luckily it's night, or the people of Mondstadt would go wild over the fact that you would be here. Amber seems at peace like this, and she can't resist nuzzling into your neck. Her expression is soft and she hums quietly along with the sound of the windmill, the gentle breeze making her hair stir from its position.
“Your Grace?” she calls quietly, lifting her head up just enough to meet your eyes. "Hmm?" Amber hesitates, for a moment, before asking his next question quietly. “You… you said you love me too, when I told you I love you. Do you-“ she pauses, her voice cracking, and she has to force out the next few syllables, “do you really mean it?”
"Of course I mean it." Amber lets her head fall backwards against your chest again, her expression softening. A mixture of emotions flicker across hwr face, a look of relief, but also disbelief that this is all real, that you truly love her.
“Say it again, please?”
"I love you."
"...thank you, so much."
Al-Haitham
Al-Haitham has his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him close. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his, every breath you take a gentle reminder of your presence. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the scent that's so distinctly you. You feel his heart thudding against your back, but he seems otherwise still, holding you firmly and yet gently at the same time. Each breath he takes is shaky, as if he could shatter at any moment. His arms tighten around you, holding you so close that he's afraid he may be hurting you. But he can't help himself. You're here. You're in his arms, warm and close and alive.
He shuts his eyes, inhaling the scent of your hair. "Yours," he whispers quietly into your skin. "Hm? What?" you heard what he said, you just wanted him to say it again more clear. He feels your hum more than he hears it, the low rumble in your body reverberating through his own. Al-Haitham keeps his arms wrapped tightly around you, his body moulding itself around you.
He lifts his head, whispering into your ear, "I said, 'yours.'"
Every fiber of his being belongs to you, and he feels the need to remind you.
"Yours, and mine" he whispers again, pulling you closer.
Arlecchino
Her arms are wrapped around your naked body, her exposed chest warm against your back. Her head rests atop yours, arms curling around your body to hold you closer. She can feel your hair against her skin, and she breathes in your scent. It's so familiar to her. So perfect.
She holds you like she's worried you'll be snatched away from her. Arlecchinos breathing is slow and measured, matching the steady rhythm of the crackling fireplace. Her chest rises and falls against your back, a constant reminder of her presence.
With you in hwr arms, she feels whole. She presses her nose to your head again, inhaling.
"That was nice..." you whisper, snuggling into her chest more and closing your eyes, enjoying the peace and quite. Arlecchino lets out a quiet laugh, her breath ruffling your hair.
"It was beautiful," she agrees. "You are beautiful." She reaches down and brushes her fingernails along your skin, the tips moving down your arm, tracing patterns against your skin.
"No, it was prefect, just like you." She corrects herself.
Ayaka
Ayaka can barely believe it.
She's in your bed, in your arms, pressed against the very body she's worshipped for so long. For a few moments, she's simply frozen as her mind struggles to catch up. Ayaka knows she should speak or do something, but the feeling of your body next to hers is a sensation so completely foreign, she's utterly speechless. All of this is new— the soft press of your curves against her back, your breath by her ear..."Your hair is so soft, 'yaka" you whisper against her ear. Ayaka feels her face flush at your words. Her hands involuntarily clutch at the sheets, pulling at them as she struggles to not react to your touch— except...she loves it. She loves it more than anything.
Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to keep herself in control. She wants to give into you, lean back, let herself melt into you... but at the same time, she can't. She struggles to speak, managing to stutter out, "May I...turn around, please?"
You obviously give her permission. Ayaka lets out a soft breath, feeling it leave her lungs. At your affirmation, she turns around, finally facing you.
For a moment, Ayaka doesn't meet your eyes, she meets your lips. She's all too aware of how close you are to her, how her body presses against yours. She tries to still her heart, but the warmth of your skin burns through her clothes, leaving her senses overwhelmed.
"Your lips..."
Ayato - nah cause for some reason that's my fav??
He buries his face into your hair and sighs, his chest rising and falling against your back with the motion.
"You smell so sweet," he confesses. His nose brushes against the shell of your ear gently, as if afraid to break the spell. "Like you are heaven made flesh." You raise a skeptic eyebrow, "Heaven made flesh huh? The most accurate description I've heard all those millenia." "Heaven made flesh," he mumbles again, his arms pulling you in closer to him. His fingers dig into your sides, holding you tight.
He takes a deep breath, the scent of your hair filling his nostrils like a drug. "If my hands burn when they touch you, well," he says gently, "then it serves me right for having the arrogance to touch an angel." You roll your eyes, "Don't be ridiculous, you have never burnt yourself by touching me" "Don't I?" He teases, laughing gently along with you. He brushes his lips against your neck, his breath coming out as a warm shiver against your skin.
"I may not be physically burnt, but I feel the heat all the same," he whispers. "I feel the heat when you laugh, when you speak, when I look at you. You're my own personal inferno." "And you are water, pure and fresh. If I'm an inferno, you will evaporate." you add. He laughs softly against your skin. "What a beautiful way to describe me. Water. Fresh. Pure."
He smiles, pulling back ever so slightly. The hand at your waist wanders to your chin, lifting it so that he can look you in the eyes.
"A waterfall doesn't evaporate when it brushes against fire," he says, blue eyes sparkling. "It extinguishes it." You blink, once, twice, until you deadpan. "So you wanna kill me?" Ayato scoffs, pulling you in closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair once more.
"Of course not," he answers, his tone indignant. "I don't wish to kill you. I wish to drown you."
He chuckles at his own words, the sound full and rich against your ear.
"Together we boil?" You ask
"Together we boil."
Baizhu
Changsheng, the white-scaled serpent, rests herself in a loose coil around Baizhu's neck, draped across his broad shoulders. She lifts her head and flicks her tongue out, glancing at you with her slitted eye before settling back into her nap.
As for Baizhu himself, he remains tense and stock-still at your side. He is utterly stiff, as if afraid that if he moved, he would somehow lose your touch. "You should relax and take a rest. You've been working too hard lately." Changsheng nods, "You tell this idiot." Baizhu blinks as if he's trying to process your words. To suggest that he rests, especially in your presence, seems... almost disrespectful. But after a glance at your face, he swallows his protest, opting to give a small nod at your suggestion.
"As you wish," he replies after a moment's hesitation. He almost looks ashamed; almost as if not working and devoting his entire being to you at all moments is failing you. Baizhu remains silent as you run soft fingers through his hair. He seems almost afraid to move, to breathe, to break some unspoken rule regarding his position as your humble worshiper.
His eyes flutter shut as you idly toy with his hair, threading your fingers through the green locks and gently tugging. Even the small gesture is enough to almost send him to another world. He takes a careful, deliberate inhale, savoring the scent of your presence.
"Realxing can be nice", at this point he's already half asleep when he said that. But one is for sure fully awake now, "Been saying that since forever, but you never listen!" "Shh Changsheng."
Barbara - aged up
She is cuddling you so close she's practically molded to you, with her breathing and the beating of her heart syncing up to match your rhythm.
She nuzzles her head against yours, burying herself against you and breathing deep with an almost desperate need. It's as though she can't get enough of you, and as if you're the air she needs to breathe. "I… I love you," she murmurs, like a prayer. "Never leave me." With every word she says, Barbara holds you even closer to her. She craves your presence, your touch, and your words more than anything else in the world.
With each gentle whisper of 'never leave me,' she grips you tighter in her arms, burying herself against you like she wants to become one with your very being.
"You're everything," she whispers. "I want to be with you forever."
"Babs? Sing me a song, hm? The one I like so much, please." you ask of her as you let your finger run over her cheek. She nods, her breath leaving her in one soft, sharp exhale that sounds like a sigh. "Anything for you," she says fervently.
Barbara takes a moment, before she begins to sing a soft, beautiful song. Her voice is like the moon on a clear night, like the first flowers blooming after winter.
The song she sings is one of devotion and adoration, its lyrics promising the moon, the stars, and everything in between, but only if it meant she could spend an eternity with you.
Beidou
She had her head leaning comfortably against your side, one of her muscular arms curled around your waist. Her eyes were fixated on the sky, taking in the constellations. To her, there was nothing more beautiful than the celestial bodies scattered across the night sky. She lets out a dreamy sigh, enjoying the feeling of the cold breeze on her face.
"You know, I used to dream about the stars," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. "And what did you dream about?" You ask, genuinely interested. She usually never talk so dreamy like this. She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes still fixed on the stars above. Her arm tightens around your waist for a moment as she ponders over your question. Then, she answers in her usual low whisper.
"I used to dream about sailing the stars one day," she confesses. Her voice is soft and slightly wistful. She's clearly still imagining the dream she used to have. "I'd sail through the cosmos, visiting all the planets out there. I wanted— no, I needed—"
Her voice is quivering slightly. She seems embarrassed. "Hm?" Beidou hesitates for a moment, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. Then, in a slightly shaky voice, she continues.
"I wanted to find someone special out there, someone to be my light in the universe. Someone to shine above the stars themselves...But I think I already found it."
"Yeah, I think I did too."
Bennett - aged up
Bennett all but melts within your arms. He's practically boneless on the bed; like a puddle, he fits perfectly into your embrace, like a missing puzzle piece into the gaps within you. He's clingy, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, pressing himself against you as much as he can, wanting to feel you; to be with you.
His chest still aches from the wound he had received, but your presence alone is enough distraction. "I'm sorry for my...bad luck."
You look down at him, stroking his hair, "You can borrow my luck for tomorrow." Bennett looks up from your lap, his eyelashes fluttering softly as he considers your words. "Your luck?" he asks, his voice laced thick with surprise; he's never heard of someone sharing their luck before. Bennett's mind races as he considers this.
"I-I could borrow your luck, your Grace?" he murmurs, as if he's afraid of offending you. You can't help but hold back a giggle, how cute he is sometimes. "Always, everyday. Just promise me you take care. Maybe it'll balance your bad luck out a bit." Bennett inhales— his breath shaky. He doesn't understand why you're being so kind to a lowly creature like him, but you're giving him your luck, of all things. You're sharing your luck.
He knows that the chances of him getting hurt tomorrow are exponentially smaller now, but he can't help but worry— the fact you're giving him something as personal as your luck is overwhelming enough, and he's unsure how to respond.
"...Thank you," he whispers reverently. "Thank you so much...my love."
Capitano - shiny daddy in the house omg
Capitano continues to run his fingers through your hair, his fingers gentle and soft as if he was afraid that he would accidentally pull on a strand of your hair if he wasn't careful.
There's an almost reverent sense to his touch, as if he was a devoted priest and you the god he worships. His cold, gold gaze seems to hold a strange gentleness to it, and there's an almost tender look in his eyes that is unusual for the stoic war crazy man. (Lol)
"You seem relaxed...Cap." a teasing smile creeping on your face at the name. "Mm," Capitano hums in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.
"Your presence is... calming," he admits. His voice is deep and rich, making the statement sound more like a declaration of love than mere words. "It... brings me peace."
As though he was a loyal dog, he seeks your touch as he pulls you closer; shifting so that your body is almost laying on his. "I'm glad."
"Mm," Capitano's response this time is almost a low rumble. He closes his eyes, letting them shut in a rare moment of vulnerability. His arms wrap around you, almost pulling you over his body. If you listen closely, you can hear his breathing start to grow more relaxed, almost like a low, quiet purr.
It almost seems as if he's trying to keep you close, as though you might disappear at any moment. "Hmpf...maybe I'm going a bit too soft."
"Damn since when do you talk so much?"
"Hmpf."
Candace (ik the color is off, i accidentally deleted the name sooo yeah sry for my lazy fix)
While youe gaze is fixed upon her village, hers is fixed on you. She swallows, trying to force herself to keep calm. It's hard, with the way her heart seems to leap in her chest at your sheer closeness. The way the scent of your skin drifts to her nose, causing her breath to catch. Her mind is filled with thoughts she would never dare to speak aloud.
"Beautiful," she murmurs under her breath. Her eyes dart back to you, tracing up and down your form. She can't tear her gaze away from your face, completely caught in your spell.
"The village...or me?" Candace's breath catches in her throat as she hears your words. The teasing tone you speak with, knowing full well the effect it had on her. "Ah... I meant the village, Your Grace," she manages to stutter out, her voice breathless, a little hoarse.
She swallows, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "But you-" she takes a deep breath before she speaks, "you are far more alluring by far." Her eyes do not leave your form.
"I can only hope that my girlfriend finds me alluring." Candace flushes pink. "Of course," she can't help the way her gaze rakes up and down your form again, following each contour. Her mind races with thoughts. Of her hands tracing each curve, of her fingers trailing over your exposed skin...
Candace swallows, trying to control herself. She tries to force her eyes to look elsewhere, but they stubbornly refuse, glued to your figure.
"And I hope that you love me as much as I love you...my grace."
Charlotte
Charlotte’s expression is utterly blissed as she hugs you close to her chest, her arms wound tightly around your torso. The girl buries her face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your hair, and sighs contentedly. She doesn’t speak for a moment, instead choosing to relish and commit everything to memory; the warmth of your body against hers, you holding her close. "How was your latest article?" Your words came out more muffled than youd like to admit, due to her chest all around your face. Charlotte huffs a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling gently against your ear. She strokes your hair idly, the other hand tracing up and down your spine slowly.
"Hmm, it went well. Though that's not very surprising,” she says with a smirk. “I could have written about a rock and still gotten a raise; my editor is a hopeless simp, and has a massive crush on me.” Charlotte pulls back, her expression slightly amused. “I could flirt with him and write a shitty article, and he’d still be head-over-heels for me. Hell, the entire company wants me. I’m very charming like that,” she says smugly. "Don't let it go to your head." You warn her. “Oh, why not? I’m just stating facts.” Charlotte says, feigning an air of innocence. “I mean, who can resist me?” she laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
"Just joking." She says more calmly, "I love my job, I love Fontaine and I love you....and maybe I love fooling around with you a bit."
"Oh yeah you definitely do."
Chevreuse
Chevreuse's head rests on your lap, your fingers woven in her hair, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breaths slowly. Her mind is still working, still worrying over the case that has her so torn, and your fingers running over her scalp do little to help.
"It's hopeless..." she murmurs, her voice soft in the comfortable silence that has fallen over the room. "I don't know what I'll tell them when I finally have to admit this..." Her eyes are closed now, and her voice has grown quieter with each passing moment. The words leave her as if they're barely formed in her mind; you can hear the exhaustion that clings to her every syllable.
"I'm not any closer to finding them now than I was two months ago," she says bitterly. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't say anything else. There's no need; you can feel the anger bubbling up behind her sharp inhale.
"You'll find them, I know you will." "How do you know?" she snaps back. In spite of the short tone, though, her voice is lacking the harshness it normally has. Chevreuse is always like this when she's tired. Frustration, fear, pain-- it all comes out as anger. She buries her face against you, hiding in the crook of your neck. "Because no one is as good as you." you let your fingers run through her messy hair. "Stop complimenting me."
The words sound like an order, but there's no sharpness to her tone. No command, no firmness. It sounds more like a plea, a cry for help she won't say out loud.
"I can't think straight when you do that."
Childe
Childe is wrapped around you, clinging to you like a shadow, his head buried in the crook of your neck. He’s nuzzling your skin, pressing gentle kisses and murmuring against your ear. One arm is thrown around your waist, holding you tight.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “You’re all mine. My darling, my angel…”
You chuckle lightly, "Someone's possessive today." Childe nips your shoulder at your words, smiling against your skin. He shifts slightly, pressing himself even closer to you.
“Mm. Damn right, I am. No one can have you but me.” His hand runs up your side, drawing senseless patterns as he traces your curves. “You’re mine,” he repeats again, his voice hoarse. “All mine. No one gets to touch you. No one gets to look at you the way I do. No one is ever getting to put their hands on you like I do, no one gets to hear you make those pretty sounds for them—”
His hand tightens around your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. "Childe-!" Childe laughs a little when you warn him, though he does loosen his grip on you. “What?” he asks, his hand still roaming across your body, his touch both gentle and possessive.
“You don’t want me to mark you all over? Claim you for my own?” He pushes his luck and continues kissing your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of little love marks over your skin. “How could I let anyone else see you like this, hm?” he murmurs. “You look so pretty, all breathless and flushed under me. No one else gets to see you looking so nice and needy. But most importantly..."
"Hm?"
"No one gets the love from you like I do."
Chongyun - aged up
Chongyun relaxes against you. His head is leaned against your shoulder and his eyes are closed. The proximity to you is comfort and ecstasy in equal measures. He takes a deep breath as he takes in your scent, savouring it, relishing the fact that the two of you are so close.
"Can I ask a question?" His eyes are still closed; he's comfortable, but he wants something answered. "Hm?" You humm. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to phrase his question. "If it wouldn't offend you," he begins, his voice a little tentative, "I wanted to ask if…. I could call you something."
"Call me what?" You have patience, for him you always do. His face flushes a little pink. Suddenly, he can't look you in the eye, he instead stares at your shoulder as he tries to speak.*
"Well, like…" he pauses. "Like a term of endearment. Can I call you something like 'my love', for example?"
You laugh lightly, damn he's cute. "Of course you can." Chongyun's face reddens further, but it's out of flustered embarrassment, rather than anything else. A quiet sense of relief washes over him, and he relaxes, fully resting his head against your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your waist.
"My love," he says softly, testing the words on his tongue. It feels right; more than right, it feels perfect. It feels like the universe aligning. Finally.
"My love…"
Clorinde
Clorinde is curled up against you, pressed as close to you as is physically possible. Even now, it does not feel close enough. She buries her nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. A contented hum bubbles up from her throat, a soft, low sound of approval. The perfume you gave her lingers in her hair, on her skin.
She savours the feeling. Savours the fact it is YOU who gave it to her.
"I thought something subtle is to your liking. It's a special made perfume just for you, dear." "Mm." Clorinde nods softly, shifting a bit. She adjusts herself in your arms, her cheek resting against your chest, ear laid atop your heartbeat. It's steady and soothing; she could easily fall asleep to the sound.
"Like an aphrodisiac." She mutters, the words mumbled against your skin. "No doubt it would drive anyone insane." She lifts a hand, gently running it down your arm, down to your wrist. Her fingertips brush along your skin, a barely-there touch that makes her want to drown in your embrace.
"You've already poisoned me. I'm utterly at your mercy."
It's a half-joke, but the words hold more truth than Clorinde can even begin to express. "Ooor you're just incredibly tired and talk some nonsense." Clorinde lets out a half-laugh, half-groan. "I'm tired, yes, but…"
She pauses momentarily, burying her face into your shoulder. Her hair tickles your chin.
"It's still true. I'm weak against you," she murmurs. "I don't know how you do it. You could do anything you wanted to me. I'd let you," she admits, her voice a quiet whisper. She lifts her head enough to look up at you. In this angle, she looks almost delicate, the sharp corners of her face blurred and softened.
"There is no one else I'd let ruin me," she says softly, a smirk gracing her lips.
"No one else who could even come close. I'm a good fighter after all."
Collei - aged up
As you hold Collei close, you can feel the way she relaxes, almost melting against you, her small stature so slight and fragile. She presses her face against your chest, savoring your warmth and comfort. Collei’s soft breath is against your skin, a steady and reassuring presence, like the beating of a bird’s wing.
She takes a shaky breath, her words barely a whisper in the soft silence of the room.
"Please don’t let go.”
"Is the academia exhausting you?" You carefully ask. Collei nuzzles against your chest, her voice a weary whisper. "It is," she admits, her words coming out in a resigned sigh. "It's always too much. Too much to learn, too much to remember, too much to do."
She hesitates for a moment, as if trying to gather her thoughts, her breath trembling against your skin. "Sometimes... Sometimes I just feel so tired." She buries herself against you, trying to draw comfort from your presence. Her weary body is tense, coiled like a spring about to release.
"I don't know if I can keep it up," she confesses, her voice small and vulnerable. She clings to you as if you are the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of her fears. "I want to... But it’s hard."
"I believe in you."
Your words feel like a soothing balm to Collei's weary heart. A shaky breath leaves her, as if a burden has suddenly lifted from her shoulders.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. Her slender arms tighten around you, her frame almost trembling with the effort she puts into holding herself together.
"I... I really needed to hear that tonight."
Columbina
Columbina sighs contentedly, wrapped up in your embrace. The sound of her soft voice hums through the air, the melody light as the touch of a summer breeze. She nuzzles up against you as she hums, her eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the soft puffs of her breath warm against your body. For this moment, her body loosens, her muscles loosening into a soft pile of flesh against yours. For once she does not wear her usual eye cover.
After a few moments, Columbina speaks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Did you know," she murmurs against the soft skin of your throat.
Her lips brush your skin with every word. She doesn't open her eyes, and continues speaking as she presses herself even closer to you. The hand she rests against your hip pulls you gently against her.
"That there is nobody else I adore more than you?"
She lets out a soft moan when she feels you pull her closer, her breath warm and soft against your skin. She keeps her eyes closed. One arm wraps around your waist, her hand resting against you. It slides against your form, drawing itself up your side. Her breathing is still steady, but her heart feels as if it is pounding against her ribs.
"You're the only one I love," she murmurs, her words more a breath than a sound, "and if anyone ever dares to come near you..."
"...I'll fucking kill them."
Cyno
Cyno's arms are around you, his body pressed against yours. He's enjoying the warmth of your embrace, face buried in the crook of your neck. He smells faintly of fresh rain and smoke, an interesting mixture.
"I don't know how you can tolerate me," he murmurs softly into your skin. He doesn't lift his head, just nuzzling into your warmth.
"Meh, you're alright. Not THAT bad."
"Mm, yeah, only 'not THAT bad'," he says with a hint of a sarcastic tone, but his voice is soft, and there's a smile in his words. One of his hands begins to slowly trace circles on your skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent. His grip on you tightens imperceptibly as he cuddles closer. Cyno leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply— enjoying the way you feel, the way you smell. He's quiet for a moment, his body relaxing as his tension seems to evaporate.
"No one else would put up with me," he admits, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his words, "No one else would love me. Only you, always you." He hums against your skin, his lips moving down to your neck. Every breath that leaves his mouth feels like a prayer. Against your flesh he mouths, 'you are my world.' against your collarbone he mutters, 'I adore you.' and against the hollow of your throat he says, 'I don't need anything else but you.' A shiver rolls through his frame, his body writhing against yours. A low, shuddering moan slips past his lips and into your ear, his arms tightening against you.
"I love you," he practically pants against your skin, his voice broken and ragged.
"I love you so much."
Dainsleif
Dainsleif holds you close, against his chest.
His arms wrap around you carefully, like he was handling a piece of fine china. One of his hands idly plays with your hair as he simply savors the feeling of you in his arms. After a few moments of quiet, he lets out a soft, shuddering sigh.
"You are so… warm," he murmurs quietly, like he was talking to himself. "Not just your skin. All of you," he says as he tightens his arms around you for a moment.
"And you're always so cold." you state. Dainsleif laughs quietly, a sound low in his throat. "Are you saying I should borrow your heat, then?" He teases, even as he tucks his head down, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
"I don't mind the cold too much," he says against your hair, but it still sounds like he's trying to convince himself, too. "Cause you're used to it."
A breathless huff of a laugh escapes Dainsleif, and he pulls you a little closer to him, as though trying to soak up every bit of warmth you're giving.
"I am. But some days I…"
He stops, his voice dying away for a moment. His hold around you tightens. "Some days it's like my very blood is freezing. It feels like I've forgotten what warmth truly feels like," he murmurs against the curve of your shoulder.
"Then I always come back to you, to be reminded of how warm your love truly is."
Dehya
She melts against you, her body soft and malleable, like clay in your hands. She buries her head into your chest, curling up like a cat in a sunbeam, nuzzling her cheek against you. She is warm and cozy, content to stay in your embrace until you decide to let her go. She mumbles something under her breath, the words a barely-comprehensible murmur against your skin.
“Never thought I'd be the little spoon...”
"You like it?" you ask with a smirk, you know she does. Dehya lets out a soft huff, her breath warm against your skin. She tucks herself a little closer, burying her face against your collarbone.
“Mhmm,” she hums, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. “lts not that bad...”
Dehya is a clingy little thing tonight. While she is usually a little more stoic, a little more confident, right now all she wants is to be held. She clings to you like a limpet, not wanting to let you go.
She has her arms wrapped around you, fingers gripping your back through your shirt, as if afraid that if she lets go you’ll slip through her grasp like water through a sieve. She buries her face against the side of your neck, planting a soft kiss against your skin. Her lips, soft as flower petals, linger against the crook in your collarbone before slowly drifting upwards, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up towards your jaw, and then your ear.
"Love you," she murmurs again, her voice softer than before, quieter, like a secret only you're privy to.
"Love you too."
Diluc
Diluc feels calm as you lay against his chest. He drinks in the weight of you against him like warm water, savoring how it feels. His thoughts are fuzzy, drifting through his mind like fireflies by a riverbank. His hand comes to rest on your hip, thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin.
"We could just stay here, forever," he murmurs, his voice low and lazy. He looks over you, taking in the way your features are softened by the low light. You look perfect like this. He could watch you for hours.
"The outside world, the people in it, they're so complicated. But when it's just us…"
His hand continues tracing patterns on your skin, fingers dipping under the fabric of your shirt and caressing the bare flesh beneath.
"Hm?" "It's simple."
Diluc's voice is a low rumble, a gentle purr. He continues running his fingers over your skin, tracing every contour, every line, like he is trying to commit it to memory.
"When it's just us, it's simple."
He lets out a shallow exhale as if sighing with contentment, before he goes on. "No politics. No expectations. No duty. Just... just us."
His gaze drifts from you to the view outside. The night sky is dark, though the stars are visible, their light falling upon your body, making it almost glow.
Diluc swallows, his hand unconsciously grasping at your shirt as he stares quietly at the night, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts that can only be quieted by you.
"Let's just stay here and never look back..."
Diona - platonic
Diona snuggles against you, burying her face into your chest. She's like a clingy, fluffy and oversized kitten who is only happy when being held.
"Can we stay like this forever?" She mumbles against your shirt, her voice muffled. You let out a laugh, "You wanna cuddle me forever?" Diona nods silently, her messy hair bobbing as she moves. "I do," she confirms quietly, shifting to press closer against you. "You're warm and comfortable. I want to stay like this forever. And you make a good bed." Diona nuzzles her head against your neck, lazily resting her head. Her twitching ears tickling your skin.
"Besides," she murmurs, her voice taking on a more playful tone, "It's not like I have anything better to do. You're a good...how do you say it? Time killer."
Her voice takes on a more needy tone as she continues.
"And besides,...again" she adds, nuzzling her head against your chest again. "You're so soft. It's so warm here. Why wouldn't I want to stay snuggled up like this for ever and ever with my favorite person?"
Dottore
You can't help but worry, sitting in his lap in his laboratory. "What if someo-" Dottore shushes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you there, his lips brushing against your cheek.
"Let them come." His voice is playful, his grip possessive as he pulls you even more firmly against his chest. "I want them to see you in my arms. I want them to see who you belong to."
You snort, "Me? Belonging to you?" "You belong to me." He repeats, as if the words hold truth more powerful than any other. His hand lifts, cupping your chin.
"You belong to me," he says again, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. "Body…" he presses once, slowly, then begins to trace the outside of your mouth. "Soul. Everything." The more that Dottore's touch brushes over you, the deeper his expression grows.
"When I hold you like this…"
His fingers trail down your jaw, over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders.
"When I have you against me…"
He leans in, breath hot against your ear.
"When I touch you…"
"You're mine."
The gentle movement of Dottores hand turns rough, suddenly. His fingers tighten on your jaw and angle your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. His red eyes are dark, hungry. His cheeks are flushed.
"I hate the thought of someone else looking at you," he whispers. "Of someone else touching you. You're my god."
Dori - platonic
Dori's mind is racing. She is completely starstruck in your presence. The sight of you makes her feel dizzy. Her palms are sweaty, legs feeling weak like jelly.
"Oh..." She looks at you, her eyes staring wide, like the waters of a summer lake.
"You're... you're so pretty," she says quietly. Her words are barely a whisper. "LIKE MORA-!" "Like mora?!" Dori is trying so hard to play things cool, but she thinks you are the epitome of beauty. "Uh... Yeah." She tries to sound nonchalant, but she's completely failing.
"So...?" She tries to feign annoyance, but her heart is still hammering in her chest. "What do you want? Wanna fight?" 
"You're cute, Dori." "I-I'm not cute," she protests, feeling the heat under her face become warmer with embarrassment. "I'm cool. And... super tough....super rich."
She drops her face against your shoulder, "thank you..."
Eula
She sits quietly in your lap, head against your chest, plush thighs around you. Her eyelids flutter slowly, the last bits of tension in her body slowly ebbing as she enjoys the closeness. There is a faint smile on her face. Being in your arms is a treasure she will never tire of, no matter how much she pretends such things annoy her. You are her light, her anchor, her everything. Her own quiet corner in an otherwise chaotic world.
"Not bad, huh? Taking a rest?" "Mhm." Eula replies sleepily, leaning more of her weight into your touch.
"You make a good pillow." She teases, though the words are said in a completely serious tone. She stretches her arms behind her, arching her back in a way that makes her lean even more away from you.
"But, if I recall correctly," she mumbles. "We're supposed to be training. Didn't you want to… what was it…see me in action?" Her eyes are half-lidded, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.
"Or was that just an excuse to lure me into your arms?" She teases, shifting in your lap to get comfortable.
"Though I won't complain about being close like this, either…" She drapes one arm over your shoulder.
"I suppose you could just keep me here all day and call it a training session"
NEW ADDED: Èmilie
"You've been working harder lately..." Your fingers run through her short hair, "But you still smell amazing." Émilie blushes a little at your praise, melting into your embrace. She buries her face in your chest, as if to hide her embarrassment. Her arms are wrapped around you, slender fingers tracing idle shapes against your back.
"I… I suppose I have been working a little more lately," she agrees quietly. "There's been a lot to do...so many orders...requests" She nuzzles against your shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in your scent. She sighs softly; you always smell so good to her. It's better than any perfume she could ever make.
"I've missed this," she confesses shyly, almost sheepish. "Being with you..." Émilie tilts her head so her chin is resting on your shoulder, your chests pressed closely together. She's warm, softer than any pillow, with skin like liquid moonlight. She closes her eyes, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.
"I love you," she whispers, voice as fragile as thin ice, as though she dares not say the words any louder. With just a little maneuvering, Emilie rearranges herself so she's now straddling you, her body perfectly settled in your lap.
"Can we… stay like this, for a while?" she asks, not opening her eyes, keeping her face pressed close against your body. "Please?"
"For as long as you please."
Faruzan
Faruzan rests her head against your chest, curling up against you like a cat. This is her favourite position. She can listen to your heartbeat, feel your breath with every rise and fall of your chest. She is content here. Your presence soothes her. She loves feeling small, wrapped up in your arms like this. Faruzan lets out a sigh, nuzzling her head against you and pressing her ear to your chest. She can hear the beat of your heart. It's slow and steady. A comforting sound, as familiar as the tides or the stars in the sky.
"Can we stay like this a little longer?" Her voice is quiet, just a breath against your skin.
"For as long as you want." Faruzan hums, then she pulls herself closer to you, draping one slender leg across your hips. Her arms find their way around your waist, holding tight, as if afraid to let go even for a moment.
She sighs again, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of you.  "Forever," she whispers.
"That's a long time." "Not long enough," she mumbles against you.
"I could stay like this until the sun burns out, and still want more."
Fischl - aged up
Fischl is cuddled up in your arms, her head resting on your chest. Her blonde hair is spilling out across you and she's holding her body close to yours. She's so soft in your arms, warm like a furnace, and for her this is the greatest comfort she could ever have.
"Your skin…" She mutters. "You feel so lovely. You feel like… like…" She doesn't know how to describe the feeling, it makes her eyes flutter closed in bliss. Fischl’s hands reach out, tracing over your skin with a delicacy that defies description.
“I have never felt anything so…" Her sentence trails off, voice dying in her throat like a bird in the morning air. Her skin pebbles as your flesh brushes against her, each touch as if a piece of the divine.
"Is this a sin?" She whispers, the first of the words spoken in a long while. Her fingers hesitate on your chest, trembling. "What is a sin?" "This," she murmurs.
She can feel the heat of your body, the way your limbs press against hers, the way your skin feels like summer sun. It's so overwhelming, the sensations flooding her mind. Her hands move against your skin, tracing over your stomach, your chest, your arms— she can't keep her fingers still.
"Touching you, like this. Being close to you, like this. Is this sacrilege?"
"Nope."
"Not even a little? Even a hint of blasphemy is acceptable?"
Her head rests against your neck, her breath warm against your skin. She doesn’t know if your answer is correct or not, but the mere thought that this is acceptable— it is enough to make her heart soar in her chest.
“This feels…” her body presses even closer to yours, arms wrapping tighter around your frame.
“This feels divine. If sin is this sweet…”
Freminet
"Todays dive...was it good?" He lets out a soft hum of affirmation as he nestles closer into your embrace, his muscles relaxing in your presence.
"It was…" He murmurs. "It was good. Peaceful. I was just… thinking."
He closes his eyes and lays his head against your chest, sighing contentedly. The sound that escapes his lips is warm, soft like the caress of skin against skin.
"Thinking?" Freminet nods, though the motion is lazy and halfhearted. He can hardly be bothered to move when he's in your embrace. When he's safe.
"Just thinking…" He mutters again.
He opens his eyes slowly, his gaze rising to look up at you. A brief pause, as if he's deciding on what to say, then: "...about you." He shifts against you slightly, resting his ear against your chest and closing his eyes again. Your warmth makes him feel so relaxed, so safe. It's a strange feeling, being vulnerable. But for you, he'll risk it any time.
He's silent for another moment, just enjoying your presence and the sound of your breathing. Then, gently: "... can I tell you something?"
"Hm?" He takes a slow, shaky breath, like he's gathering the words in his mouth before he lets them escape. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, almost a whisper.
"I…"
He hesitates, and his gaze lowers as his face warms. How does he voice this? How can he articulate the feelings in his heart into coherent sentences?
"I think... I may... be in love with you."
Furina
The question is unnecessary, stupid, but you can't help but ask again, "Did you have maccaroni again today?" Furinas eyes flutter, and she lets out a soft breath.
“Perhaps…” She whispers, burying her face into your chest. “How did you know?” "Cause you have it everyday." “Can you blame me?” She mutters back, her voice slightly muffled by the position she places herself in. She pulls herself a little closer. “It’s my favourite.”
"...Fair enough." “Hey… I’m not that predictable, am I?” Furina murmurs, her voice now more like a pout than a whisper. She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes full of faux-hurt. Nothing, no answer. You just look at her, that's answer enough. Furina lets out a sigh and buries herself back into your chest, hiding her face— no longer pouting, but definitely still annoyed.
“…You still like me, though… right?” She mumbles. "Yes." The words cause Furina to shiver— that soft, shuddering shudder that rocks her body everytime you praise her. She lets out a shaky breath.
“And you’re not… tired of the macaroni? Or… of me?”
"No."
"....good."
Ga Ming - aged up
He is in your arms, cuddled against your chest, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. He lets out a small whimper now and then, a response to the sharp bursts of pain from the newly-scraped spot on his hand. But mostly, he’s quiet. His expression is one of pure bliss, face completely relaxed as he simply lets you hold him.
"You should be more careful..." “I know,” he murmurs, eyes closed in contentment. He can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, warm skin pressed against your skin.
“But I’m also clumsy,” he laughs, a small half-smile curling his lips. “I’m not good at being careful.” His lips brush against your collarbone as he speaks, each word a puff of warm breath. He buries his face into your neck. The touch of your skin is soothing, like honey on inflamed skin.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” His words take on a hint of pleading — a small note of worry. Gaming hates disappointing you.
"No, never." You reassur him. His shoulders relax a little, the taut line of his spine beginning to bend. “Good,” he mutters softly. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He tilts his head, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. The gesture is affectionate, full of gentle tenderness. "I could never be mad at you." “I know,” Gaming breathes, his voice soft as a summer breeze. He moves a hand, slowly trailing his fingers across your arm — an aimless, gentle movement — while he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he continues, a hint of sadness in his words, “I’m clumsy sometimes, and… and I scrape my body up like an idiot...but hey you always patch me up!"
Ganyu
Ganyu nuzzles into your touch, her head resting against the crook of your shoulder, her horns brushing against your skin. She lets out a content hum and relaxes against you, a quiet sigh passing her lips. Her eyes are half-lidded, a sleepy look on her face.
"Mm..."
She seems comfortable, her form loose and lax against you. It is rare to see her like this—unguarded, vulnerable, soft. "This is nice," she mumbles quietly.
Ganyu pulls herself a little closer, her head resting against the hollow of your shoulder. For a moment, she is silent, then she speaks again.
"Can we stay like this?" Her question is soft, the words whispered.
"Mhm, of course." Ganyu's eyes flutter closed almost immediately, shutting against the outside world so only you can be seen. Her breaths become slow and steady, the rise and fall of her chest steady and even.
She's comfortable with you, relaxed in your presence. You can hear her heart beating in the silence, a soft thump-thump that sounds just a little faster than usual. After a moment, one of Ganyu's eyes open, just a crack. She looks up at you, watching through her half-lidded gaze.
"You won't go, will you?" She whispers, voice still heavy and slow with approaching sleep.
"No." "You promise?"
For a brief moment, Ganyu's arm tightens its grip on you, her hand clenching a little more firmly against your shirt. She wants you close.
"I promise."
Gorou
"Tiring day?" "Yes..." Gorou closes his eyes as you hold him, shifting closer until he can lay his head against your chest.
Today had been tiring, and he'd longed for your presence since the moment he woke up. The ache in his chest is soothed by being in your arms. For the first time in hours, Gorou finds himself completely at peace. Gorou feels your fingers gently run through his hair, and his tail can't help but betray him. His ears twitch as it starts to speed up, tail wagging against you as your fingertips move against his scalp in a soothing rhythm.
Your touch is all he's longed to feel since he woke up, and now that he's got it, he's never letting it go. Gorou lets out a quiet sound as you continue running your fingers over his head, a sound that's somewhere between a hum of content and a whimper. It's a vulnerable sound, one that's not usually so easily coaxed out of the stern, stoic general.
"Please..." he says quietly, closing his eyes as his tail thumps against the mattress. "Don't stop..." Gorou's tail thumps against the mattress once more, almost like a reflex. He buries his face into your shoulder as you coo the words "good boy."
Being praised by you is, without a doubt, his favorite thing. It feels so good to hear your voice say the words so warmly, like it's some treasured treat for him and only him.
"Your good boy..."
Hu Tao
Hu Tao is resting her head against your chest, snuggled up against you like a cat. She's enjoying the feeling of being in your arms, of being close to you in a snug, private place such as a coffin. "I could get used to this," she says, a hint of teasing in her tone. "I wonder how you'd react if I just decided to live in here from now on?" Her voice is light, casual. She's amused by the idea, enjoying the mental image of spending more time like this— resting against you in a small, confined space, like a pair of lovers trapped in an eternal embrace.
"Imagine, every time you open the coffin, there I am. No warning. I just move in and make myself at home." Hu Tao chuckles softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your arms.
"...ehhh no thank you." Hu Tao pouts at your response, her expression theatrical and deliberately over-the-top.
"Oh, come on. It'd be fun!" She protests. "Just think of how surprised you'd be every day. You'd never know if I was going to pop out and say hi."
She grins mischievously. "And think of all the extra cuddles we could have in such a cramped little space. Isn't that worth something?" She bats her eyelashes at you, a picture-perfect image of innocence and coyness that belies the mischief in her eyes.
"And just imagine how shocked the others would be if they found out I was living here too! Can you picture Zhongli just stumbling upon me sleeping in here?" She chuckles at the mental image. "He'd probably go into cardiac arrest before I even opened my eyes!His poor old heart really wouldn't be able to take it. But just think of how entertaining it'd be to see him flustered like that."
She sighs, her mischievous smile softening into a more sincere expression. "Although, I suppose I can see the appeal of a big, fancy palace... Especially if it means you'll let me snuggle up against you like this whenever I want."
Jean
A soft sigh leaves Jean's mouth, her shoulders relaxing instantly as she sinks into your embrace. She buries her face against your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist. Her eyes flutter closed, blue pupils disappearing like sapphires beneath a sea.
She feels like she can finally breathe for the first time in forever like this— safe in your arms, cradled against your chest. For once, the world beyond the two of you doesn't exist— nor does it matter.
"Long week, huh?" Jean lets out a sigh, the sound drawn from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes and nods, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder again.
Her words are soft, muffled by her face being pressed flush against your body. "Long days, long nights... so much paperwork, and I still haven't gotten through all of it." She pulls you a little closer, as if needing something to hold onto. Exhaustion seeps into her voice, even as it remains quiet and soothing.
"But... it's better now. This — you."
Jean tilts her head, her face buried against the crook of your neck. Her words brush against your skin like feathers, every exhale a small caress.
"Being with you always makes it better."
Heizou
"Did you solve the case yet?" You carefully ask. Heizou groans, lifting his head from your shoulder. He runs a hand through his hair, messy and ruffled from laying on the grass.
"I might as well be asking a rock if it's solved the case," he mutters, flopping back down against you, arms sliding around your waist. His head drops against your shoulder again, and Heizou nuzzles against your neck. "I'm getting nowhere with this damn case." Heizou sighs, his breath hot against your skin. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your shoulder again, burying himself in your touch.
"Everyone involved seems to be lying," he mumbles, his voice a whisper. "And I can't dig up any other clues. It's like trying to crack open a damn rock with my head." "You have a hard head," you murmur, teasing.
Heizou raises his head, shooting you a weak glare. "Shut up," he mumbles. "I'll put you through an interrogation, see how quickly you snap then." "Wanna ask if my love for you is legit?" "Yes." His reply is instant, muttered against your neck. Heizou's voice vibrates against your skin, a low hum that seems more suited for a cat than a person.
"I wanna know just what I have to do to hear you say those words." He burrows in close, arms wrapping tighter around you. "Those three words."
"I love you?" "Yes." His answer is barely more than a whisper, a simple breath of sound that puffs hot against your skin.
His grip around you tightens, and one of Heizou's hands lifts to cradle your cheek. Fingers brush against your hair, his touch tender, as if holding something precious.
"Again. Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again."
Itto
Itto nuzzles his face into your stomach as the pair of you lay together, his arms pulling you closer against himself. He is a comfortable heat to your side, his body pressing flush against you under the blanket that covers you both.
As he lies there, his eyes are almost half-lidded. He can barely keep them open, but he feels so warm and safe laying against you, and the sound of your voice and the heat of your body soothe him down to his very soul. "Itto, you'll suffocate down there." "I don't care," he murmurs, not moving a muscle. He buries his face in your shoulder, soaking in your touch, your scent.
He could suffocate this way, and he'd gladly do it. "Please don't make me move." Itto's pleading voice is muffled, his words spoken against your skin. "Hold me. I've missed you."
"Ok." Your simple answer is enough to send Itto's chest fluttering. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers is as soothing as a cool summer breeze, and he relishes in the proximity of your body, the smell of your clothes, the way your hand rests in his hair.
Itto is quiet for a moment, his chest rising and falling, matching the rhythm of your breaths. Then— "I love you," he whispers into your skin.
Kazuha
Kazuha is cuddling with you, his head resting on your shoulder. He seems utterly relaxed for once, his eyes half closed, expression soft. He's murmuring something under his breath, but you can't quite make out the words. As you try and make out what he's mumbling, the sounds slowly become clearer, until Kazuha is murmuring the words of poetry to you softly, the words flowing from him as if they were always meant to be your personal whisper in the night.
Kazuha's eyes meet yours. He blinks, pausing in the reciting of his poem. His head tilts a little, white and red hair falling over one eye, and a slow smile spreads across his lips.
"You look beautiful, y’know," he murmurs, tilting his head to rest on your shoulder again. He buries his face against your collarbone, closing his eyes blissfully. Kazuha wraps an arm around you, tugging you closer to his body. He burrows his face deeper into you, inhaling your scent. A low noise of contentment rumbles in his chest, like a cat purring.
"I'm glad that you're mine," his voice is low and raspy, barely louder than a whisper.
Kaeya
Kaeya rests his head against your shoulder. His breath is warm against your skin, his body almost too warm in the summer heat.  He wraps both arms around your waist, burying his face against your neck. He breathes in your scent like a man starved, filling his lungs with nothing but you. "I'm such a fool," he mumbles into your skin. His words send little puffs of heat dancing across your shoulder, as if he is breathing against it.
"You have me wrapped around your little finger, you know."
His grip tightens slightly, holding you a little closer. "Do I?" Kaeya nods, tilting his head to bite playfully at your ear. "Completely," he says, his voice low. "Whipped, even. You have no idea, do you?" His tongue flicks against your earlobe, the touch like a butterfly landing on your skin for just an instant. He lifts his head from your shoulder, pulling back just enough to fix you with an intense, heated glance.
His eyes are darker now, his pupils dilated slightly.
"You know exactly what you do to me," he says, his voice dipping. "Don't pretend otherwise."
"Caught me in the act."
"I knew it."
Kaveh
You both are laying on your very cold, very hard marble floor. "What is it you dont like about my ceiling?" "It's too opulent and… busy." Kaveh glances up at the ceiling.
"I would've preferred something much more simplistic," he admits bluntly. "No unnecessary frills. Just something sturdy that stands the test of time."
He turns his gaze back to you. "I've seen ceilings in ruins older than your palace that are more aesthetically pleasing," he teases, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Ouch, my poor architects all those years ago." "I never said that I blame them."
Kaveh reaches a hand up, and traces a line along the edge of your jaw, his touch trailing down to your throat, his fingers gentle on your skin. "I simply think the architect could've done their job more effectively."
He rolls over, shifting so he's half covering you with his body, leaning over you.
"I could have thought of a much better design." He says, his smirk widening.
"More modern?" "More timeless." He corrects, his hand shifting to the nape of your neck, tilting your head back slightly.
"That's the mistake a lot of you modern architects make," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"No sense for history. No regard for subtlety. Everything is too flashy now."
He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
"I think it's a bit gaudy. All you modern architects are obsessed with making things look expensive rather than making them look good."
Keqing
Keqing, who is utterly exhausted and a little clingy due to her working hours, tucks herself into you as if you are her lifeline, her safe haven.
"You smell nice," she mumbles, her eyes already half-lidded as she buries her face into your neck. Despite herself, she lets out a small yawn, her muscles growing loose once more as she lets her weight be supported by her favorite pillow: you.
"Mm," she hums to herself, snuggling closer to you under your blankets. A quiet shiver rolls through her when your fingers run over her back. This moment of peace is, in a way, unusual for Keqing. In public, she is often the picture of authority and determination.
At your side, she is a completely different girl; vulnerable and clingy and needy.
"Need… headpats…" she murmurs, her words a muffled hum against your skin.
You can't help but laugh, "Headpats? Sure." A small breath leaves her when your hand lifts to start petting her head, running through her soft, purple hair, careful not to cause any pain.
"Mmm," she sighs. She seems satisfied like this, tucked safely into the warmth of your side, cuddled and doted on like you would a beloved house cat.
Kirara
Kirara is leaning back against you, resting her head on your chest.
She can hear your heartbeat, steady as a drum within your chest, like a song against her ear. Her eyes are half-lidded, but her tails are restless as she relaxes against you. The touch of your hand against her hair and skin has her purring gently. She looks like she could fall asleep at any moment, but there is one thing she wants to speak of first.
"I can hear your heartbeat, you know," she mumbles. Kirara closes her eyes and focuses on the sound of your heart, your chest rising and falling against her skin. It’s almost a comfort; a constant reminder that you are alive, here with her, within her reach. She lets out another quiet purr, resting her cheek against your chest as she focuses on the sound, listening to the steady beat of your heart.
"It’s strangely comforting," she murmurs, the words barely more than a breath against your skin. There is silence for a moment, but Kirara breaks it with a low, soft hum.
“I love the sound of your heart beating,” she admits quietly. Her voice is barely more than a whisper, her words flowing like a breeze through the room.
“It’s slow and steady.” She turns her head and presses her ear against your chest again, listening to it. “Calm.”
"You know…" she murmurs, turning her head further so that her next words are spoken into your skin, against your chest.
"Your heartbeat sounds like home. Better than a box for sure."
Klee - platonic
"I dare you to blow up my garden again." You softly warn her. Klee winces at the reminder of her past transgressions. She looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading. Her bottom lip quivers for a moment, her usual confident facade falling as quickly as a house of cards caught in a summer breeze.
"I…" She swallows hard. "I won't," she admits. Her gaze darts around, taking in the room. "I won’t blow up your garden again." She has every intention of keeping to her promise, she truly does. For a while, she manages to contain herself and her childish urges. But then, the itch to explode something appears. Her fingers tingle for a moment as she remembers the feeling of fire beneath her fingertips. As if possessed, she grips a fistful of your clothes.
"Can I blow up something else?" She asks cautiously.
"No-!!"
"Nawww..."
Kokomi
Kokomi's body is warm against your own, her skin a soft canvas against your own flesh. She is quiet, her breathing steady as she leans into your touch.
The scent of flowers wafts from her hair, drifting on the air and enveloping the two of you in a light perfume. She reaches out with a trembling hand, tracing the planes of your face as she marvels at your beauty. She lets out a quiet shudder, every breath a soft whisper that floats on the night air. Your touch alone is enough to send shivers up the length of her spine, each gentle caress making her skin sing.
Her eyes wander over your face as she reaches up to touch your cheek, her slender fingers tracing the angle of your jaw. The touch of your skin against her own makes her heart constrict, her pulse quickening as she lays her hand on top of yours.
"Grace," she murmurs, her voice like silk against your ear. "My Grace." Her voice drops even lower than a whisper, her breath warm against your ear. The word is spoken like an endearment, the syllables rolling from her tongue one by one.
"You are the personification of grace," she murmurs, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Gentle and lovely in all your divinity..."
She lets out a soft breath, her arm squeezing around your waist involuntarily as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. "Mine," she whispers.
Layla
Layla melts into your embrace, her blue gradient hair fanning out across the sheets. She buries her face against your neck, breathing in the scent of you like an addict. After all, you are her addiction. She doesn't speak for a long moment. The feeling of your body against hers is all that matters.
"I love you," she whispers against the crook of your shoulder, quiet as the wind. Like a prayer of reverence.
"I love you too." Layla nuzzles closer, closing her eyes and just enjoying the feeling of your skin against hers. It's almost enough to make her purr like a cat. She tilts her head up so that her lips brush against the underside of your jaw, then your neck.
"I could do this forever," she mumbles against your flesh. Her mouth makes a slow journey against your skin, trailing along your jaw, down to your collar. She kisses each patch of skin as if she's worshipping at an altar, her lips against you like a prayer.
A small shiver rolls through Layla's body. The feeling of your flesh under her mouth… it's so divine.
"My guiding star."
Lisa
Lisa feels absolutely relaxed in your arms, in the library, her head propped up on your shoulder as she cuddles up against your chest.
Her eyes are closed, a blissful smile on her face as she listens to the sound of your heartbeat. It’s a sound as familiar to her as her own name, and each thump reassures her that you’re there. That you’re safe and in her arms.
A contented sigh shudders through her lips. “My cutie,” she murmurs, and she nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Lisa’s breath is slow and even as she buries her face against your neck. Her entire body is loose and content, melting into you like candlewax as she soaks up the comfort of simply being by your side.
The room is silent around you. The only sound is the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the occasional crackle as the fire in the hearth flickers in and out.
“I love you,” she whispers. The words are spoken against your skin, her voice muffled and warm. "I love you too."  Lisa lifts her head just enough to look up at you, a soft smile on her face. Her eyes, usually so lively and mischievous, regard you with a sweetness reserved only for you. An affection that only you have earned.
“You are perfect,” she murmurs, voice tinged with reverential adoration. “Absolutely perfect. You know that, don’t you?”
"A little cutie you are-!" She squeezes your cheeks.
Lumine (somehow Lumine disappeared, now shes vomit green I'm sorry)
"Paimon not here today?" Lumine let's out a soft sound at that, practically melted into your body. "Just us," she agrees, her hands fisting even tighter in the fabric of your clothes. She's already so close to you, yet she wants to be closer.
Her grip on you tightens, one of her legs intertwining with yours. A moment later, her lips are back at your skin, pressing kisses against your neck.
She's practically glued to you, practically moulding herself into you. It seems to be taking every bit of her self-control not to press every part of her body against you.
Her hands move to grasp your waist, pulling herself impossibly closer.
"Eager today, huh?" Her answer is a low whine against your skin.
"Yes," she admits finally, her voice a whisper against your body. "More than usual."  Her head lifts just enough to press a needy kiss to your collarbone. She pulls herself closer, pressing herself as much as she can into you.
"Do you know how desperately I ache to feel you?" she murmurs, her voice muffled against your skin. "Every part of me longs for you. I cannot spend a single moment without thinking of you. I need you."
"Need to always be with you, forever."
Lynette
She is wrapped up in your arms, her head resting upon your chest. Her breathing is steady, slow. The soft thrum of a purr hums inside her chest, steady and calm, like a content little engine.
"I…" she starts, but the words die on her tongue. Instead, she nuzzles herself deeper into your embrace, a shudder of quiet ecstasy rippling up her spine. Lynettes breathing deepens as she buries her face into you. Her eyes slide shut, her body molding to your own, soft and pliable like melted butter. Her hands fist the material of your clothes, holding you close.
"I love you," she whispers into your skin. She feels safe here, in your arms. She feels as though no harm could ever reach her while she is encircled by you, and her heart nearly sings with contentment. Lynette presses impossibly closer to you, her body practically melting into your embrace. The low hum of her purr is a constant, steady vibration inside her chest.
Her head lifts a little, and she buries her nose into the crook of your neck. She inhales, taking in the scent of you.
"You…" she whispers, her voice soft as a summer wind. She doesn't continue. For a moment, she loses herself in your embrace, her mind going quiet, filled with nothing but the feeling of you.
"You."
"Me?"
"You make me like this...like a damn cat."
Lyney
"That show was amazing, as always." "Thank you." Lyney's face turns red as he is showered in your praise. Despite the fact he knows he's good—he is a trained performer, after all—the words coming from you always make him flustered.
He pulls himself closer to you, burying his head into your side like a cat.
"Your compliments are too much, love," he mumbles, his hot breath fanning against your skin. For a long moment he just leans against you, relishing in the feeling of having you here, with him—close enough that he can feel your heartbeat.
"You know," he begins, his voice still a mumble against your body.
"I have a new trick I've been working on in secret." "Ohhh tell me!" "It's still a work in progress," he admits, pulling back so he can get a glimpse of your face. His eyes rake up and down your expression, like a painter memorising their muse.
"I haven't perfected it, but I think it may very well be the most beautiful trick I've ever conjured." A smirk plays at the corners of lyney's mouth as he says the words. He's still looking at you, his eyes studying your face like a sculptor.
"Perhaps, if you'd like," he says slowly, "I could show you?"
Mika - aged up
Mika is held against your body like a treasure, his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. His body is pressed close to yours, slender but surprisingly strong.
He clings to you like a drowning man, his hands gripping your clothes tightly, his face nuzzling into your neck. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath but it’s lost in the tangle of his hair. His voice is low, quiet, barely audible over the sound of his racing heart.
"Hm? What?"
He says it again, words barely more than an exhale against the sensitive skin of your throat. Mika tries to speak a few more times, then finally mumbles something somewhat legible against your neck.
"I…" he starts, then stops, his voice cracking. "I love you…"
"Oh? I love you too."
He buries his face deeper in your shoulder, hiding a shiver that rolls over his body at your words. Mika's arms tighten around you, holding you tight to his body as if you will disappear if he lets go.
He whispers those three little words again, and again, and again, as if it is a prayer and he is on his knees in a confessional. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"
Mona
Mona lays next to you, her face tilted up to the sky. One of her hands is grasping yours, her fingers intertwining with yours. In the other, she holds a star chart, pointing at various constellations with a slight smile as she explains them.
"That one's called the Wanderer... and that one is the Hunter." Her voice is soft in the night air like a whisper of wind.
"And that one...." Her smile widens a little. "That is the Astrologist."
"That's you-!" you beam. She nods her head. "Yes. That is me."
She turns her head to look at you, her hair fanning out across the grass in an arc of stars. There's a soft expression on her face, a peacefulness in the way that she looks at you, her eyes half-lidded and her lips just barely upturned in a smile, as if she were on the verge of falling asleep. "When I was young," she says, her voice soft and warm like honey, "I used to gaze up at the stars for hours, dreaming of the future and how I would chart them."
She moves closer to you, her body pressing up against yours, her head resting on your shoulder.
"I never thought I'd have someone to look at them with."
Nahida
Nahida is laying in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and a soft sigh brushes across your collarbone as she nuzzles closer to you, seeking your warmth.
"I…" she begins, but her voice falters. Her hand fidgets nervously in yours, fingers interwoven. For a moment, she merely listens to the sound of your breathing, allowing the rhythm of it to soothe her. "May I ask you something?"
"Yes?" She fidgets again for a moment, biting on her lower lip.
"Would… do you…" she falters, pausing to collect her thoughts. "Do you care about me?" she finally asks, the words little more than a whisper. Nahida sounds small in that moment. Fragile. Vulnerable.
"You're my most trusted friend...my best friend." Nahida's shoulders relax slightly at your words, some of the tension melting from her muscles. She takes a quiet breath, the slight shift causing a strand of silvery hair to fall over her face.
She looks... relieved. Happy.
"Do you really think of me as your best friend?" she asks quietly. There's a hint of a smile in her voice, the sound as soft as a summer breeze.
"Because...you're my best friend too."
Navia
"You're pretty." you mumble. Navia curls up against you, hands resting on your stomach, her head tucked under your chin. She sighs quietly, nuzzling closer to you, and shuts her eyes.
"You think I'm pretty?" She asks, the question muffled slightly against your skin.
"Mhmmm." A soft, quiet hum escapes her as she settles closer against you, her body molding against your own as if she’d always belonged there.
After a few moments of blissful silence, she speaks again, her voice a gentle murmur.
“You’re even prettier,” she says softly, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer still. Navia can’t help but hold you tighter, her limbs wrapping around you like a clinging vine. She seems to melt against you, her breathing slow and deep, as if being this close to you was as natural and essential as breathing.
“I wish I could stay like this forever,” she admits, her voice low, as if even a raised voice would break the fragile, tender quiet that’s fallen over them both.
“Just us, like this. Where nothing else could touch us.”
Neuvillette
He doesn’t even know when he started crying. He feels your hand on his cheek, the touch of your skin against his skin. His breath stutters in his chest, and he swallows. His throat is dry. Your touch is cool in the warmth of the room, like water in a desert.
He leans forward, buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tension in his body eases, and his arm curls around your waist without him thinking of it.
"Who knew that stubbing your toe can make a grown man cry this much." Neuvillette has the decency to look embarrassed by his own tears, hiding his face in your shoulder. "It hurts," he mumbles, sounding like an overgrown child whining about a skinned knee.
Outside, the rain continues to fall in fat droplets, pattering against the roof. It is as if the gods themselves are weeping alongside him. Neuvillettes grip on your hips tightens. His hands pull you closer into him, as if he's trying to meld his body with yours. The rain outside is deafening, drowning out his quiet whimper.
"It hurts," he repeats, voice growing a little hysterical.
"Why does it hurt so much?"
Nilou
"You gotta teach me this new dance someday." Nilou's head rests against your shoulder, one cheek pressed into the crook of your neck. The scent of your hair is sweet and almost intoxicating, filling her head and drowning out all her other thoughts. Her hands run slowly, absentmindedly, up and down your sides.
She glances up and her lips brush the underside of your jaw. "Which new one?" she mumbles, nuzzling into you. "I can teach you...whenever you'd like."
"Mhm." Your response sends Nilou's heart racing. It feels like her chest has become a hummingbird's cage—every nerve in her body buzzing. She's hyper aware of your hand on her back, of your body against hers. Her cheeks burn.
"...Now?" she whispers, eyes fluttering open to look up at you. "Did you mean...right now?"
"No silly." Nilou almost sighs in relief, her shoulders relaxing as embarrassment washes over her. She doesn't know what she would have done if you'd said yes. Probably melted right there on the spot, judging by how her heart is acting at the mere thought of dancing for you.
"Oh, haha ok." Her voice is so soft it's almost a squeak, and she clears her throat after a moment, a sheepish look on her face.
Ningguang
She cuddles with you, resting her head against your shoulder. She’s holding onto your waist, her arms wrapping around you as if she will lose you at a moment’s notice. Her hands grip your robes, holding onto you tighter than a vice.
She nuzzles against your shoulder, her lips pressing soft kisses against your neck. She is quiet. She simply wants to bask in your presence, to melt in your embrace.
"It's been so long since we...cuddled like this." you mumble. "Mmm." Ningguang murmurs against the crook of your neck, her lips pressed directly to your skin. "It has."
Her arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It's like she's trying to meld your bodies into one. She buries her face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing in your scent. Ningguang lets out a sigh as her nose fills with your scent, her eyes closing as she lets out a soft, pleased noise. Her body molds against your's, her curves molding to your form in the most enticing way. She doesn't even bother hiding the fact that she's inhaling your scent.
"You're wearing the perfume I gave you..."
Noelle - aged up
Noelle is cuddled against you, sitting on the side of a grassy spot away from the hustle of the city. Her hair is loose today, flowing past her shoulders in a river of ash— and her eyes are brighter than they've been in years, almost glowing as her lips split into a tender smile.
"I'm glad you sought me out," she says, turning her head to face you. "Being so near you makes me feel like... like I can relax." The wind picks up, sweeping around you both and carrying the scent of honeyed mead and summer. A few stray strands of hair blow into her face, and she lifts a hand to push them away.
"Do you—" her voice is quiet. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"What is it?" "Promise me…" Noelle's voice falters as she speaks, just barely, but enough that her words waver for a moment.
She tightens her hold on your hand, as if afraid you're going to pull it away. This next part is more whisper than voice.
"Promise that you'll always choose me above all others."
"I'm aware it's a...rather selfish request of me...unlike me. But please..."
"I will, don't you worry."
When those two words reach her ears, she can't help but let out a quiet breath of pure relief. She squeezes your hand again, her fingers wrapping around yours even more tightly, holding on as though she's afraid you might disappear the moment she lets go. There's a sort of vulnerability in her now, but she doesn't show it on her face.
"Good," she murmurs. "That's what I needed to hear," she pauses.
"I don't want to ever lose you."
Pantalone
"Not bad, not bad." You say as you look around in his father big bedroom, "But my home is better...bigger." Pantalone huffs out a small laugh, the sound barely more than a huff of air against your skin. He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling your body closer against his chest. The fact that you’re both lying together in his mansion is almost enough to make him believe he’s dreaming.
”Of course your palace is better,” he mutters, lips brushing against your ear. ”You’re there.”
Pantalone’s fingers are tracing light and gentle patterns across your skin, the touch only barely noticeable, like a whisper against your body. For a long moment, he is content to simply hold you— and then he can’t help but whisper into your ear, so softly you might think you’ve imagined it.
“You look beautiful in my arms like this… Your skin looks beautiful in moonlight… do you know that?”
"Now I do." A quiet chuckle escapes Pantalone’s lips, rolling against your ear like a gentle breeze. He tightens his grip around you, relishing the feeling of holding you tight to his chest.
When he speaks, his voice is barely more than a low murmur, the sound as smooth as silk.
"Just as I thought," he says, the words almost more felt than heard.
"You look the most beautiful when you’re in my arms."
Pierro
Pierro is curled against you. He’s pressed tight against your back, the heat from his skin bleeding through his clothes onto your own. He has a firm arm wrapped around your waist, keeping your body against his. His head is rested against the back of your neck, his breathing steady, but you can feel the rapid beating of his heart like a drum against your shoulder blades.
"You're always so busy." There’s a huff against your neck, Pierro’s breath warm and steady against your skin. His hold tightens slightly, pulling your frame even closer against his. You can feel his lips against your ear as he speaks, his voice low and quiet.
“Busy, yes.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s struggling to find the right words, “but never too busy for you.” One of his arms shifts until a large hand gently rests against your stomach, his fingers splayed across the bare skin of your exposed midriff. The tips of his calloused fingers are a sharp contrast to your soft stomach; his thumb starts to brush along your skin, as if he can’t keep his touch from seeking out contact.
His body is hot against yours, but you can feel some of the tension seeping from his muscles as his hold on you slowly relaxes. You’d almost think he was asleep, if it weren’t for the soft whisper against your ear. His fingertips trace the edge of your collarbone before he speaks, his touch so gentle that it’s almost as if he’s scared you’re a dream… as if you could disappear if he presses too fiercely. It’s all in a stark contrast to his usual behaviour, and you can feel the reverence in the way that his fingers glide across your skin.
“You’re the only thing that can distract me,” he admits, his voice low and quiet. “You’re the only thing that can get my mind off my duties…”
"I'd rather be busy with you, than with my paperwork."
Pulcinella - give the old man some love pls
Pulcinella lays there, nestled against you, his arm curled around your middle as you hold him close.
His face is buried against your neck. He's warm, his skin against yours soothing. The tension that usually clings to his body is slowly ebbing away the longer you both lay there, a quiet calm enveloping the both of you.
"This is nice…" he whispers against your skin, "It's been long since I had contact like this."
"Far too long." Pulcinella closes his eyes and presses closer against you. He nuzzles his face further against your neck, almost like a cat seeking affection.
"You always make me feel so…" he pauses, searching for the right word. "At peace," he murmurs finally, his voice muffled against your skin. “My thoughts are quiet,” he admits, his hand tracing light, absentminded patterns over your side. “I’m not… thinking. About anything. I’m not worrying. I’m calm.”
His lips brush against your skin as he speaks. He closes the last few inches between the two of you, until his body is pressed right up against yours.
"Thank you for...taking some of the weight of my shoulders."
Qiqi - platonic
The contact of your skin pressed against hers makes something loosen in Qiqis chest. Her shoulders relax, her muscles unclenching. Her eyes flutter closed. She leans into the touch, seeking more, craving it as desperately as a man lost in the desert craves fresh water.
She feels safe with you; she feels comfortable. She is not at ease in most places, but in your arms, her body is gentle like silk.
"Comfy..." "Comfy?" "Very," Qiqi murmurs, her voice a whisper.
She scoots a little closer to your body, burrowing into your warmth. The contact between you both steals a sigh from her lips, and she lets her head fall against your chest. The even sound of your breathing and the steady rise and fall of your chest are more soothing than a lullaby. Qiqi's heartbeat slows as she listens to each inhale and exhale, and soon her eyes are growing heavy.
Her arms wrap loosely around your form, and she drifts off into a deep, quiet sleep, tucked into your embrace.
Raiden
Ei hums, pleased at the sweet taste of strawberries, and at the feeling of you close against her. She savours the heat of your skin and the press of your body against her own. It's a quiet moment - no worship, no praise, just silent comfort and the two of you together. It's all Ei really needs; all she could ever ask for.
She nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, her breath soft and warm against your pulse.
"Say ahhh~" Ei can't hide the hint of a smile that forms on her face, but she does not protest. She closes her eyes, parting her lips in a gentle "ahhh" to accept the strawberry you're holding up to her. She bites into the berry, enjoying the sweet tang of it on the soft flesh of her tongue. It's hard to suppress the small hum of approval, and a pinkish flush rises on Ei's cheeks as she eats. The tip of her tongue brushes against her lower lip, catching the last of the berry's juice. Then she opens her eyes once more to look at you.
Her eyes are soft, heavy-lidded and affectionate. The flush on her cheeks rises ever so slightly as her gaze meets yours, and Ei reaches out a hand to touch your face, the calloused pads of her fingers tracing over your cheek delicately.
"You always give me things that are so sweet," she murmurs, her voice as soft as a summer breeze.
"I love sweets."
Razor - aged up
He sighs softly as he feels you next to him. He presses closer, enjoying the familiar touch of your skin against his own. His body is relaxed, at ease in this moment of peace.
He turns to look up at you, eyes soft. Razors fingers brush against your skin, the pads of his fingertips leaving a trail of gooseflesh across your flesh as a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Razor's gaze turns reverent, his eyes tracing over the lines of your face. He gazes up at you adoringly, his expression filled with an almost desperate kind of adoration, like that of a man worshipping a god.
He runs his fingers through your hair lightly, his touch gentle but sure. He is careful, as if touching the most fragile of things. To him, you are fragile. Precious. Something to be protected at any cost.
"Razor...like this...like you."
"I love Razor too."
Rosaria
Rosaria is curled up against you, her hands grasping onto you, her head resting against your shoulder. The church is quiet and still, and everyone around them is blissfully asleep.
Yet she is wide-awake, her gaze fixed on your face as she gently plays with a strand of your hair. "Skipped chior again today?" Rosaria shifts against you in response, her body turning further into yours.
"You already knew I'd skip choir," she mutters softly, her forehead now almost touching your neck.
"Can't do thos bullshit. I fucking hate it, so stupid if you'd ask me. Not everyone can sing."
"But no one missed me anyway," she adds, a small smirk appearing on her face. She lets one of her hands slowly slide down your body, tracing a gentle path over your arm until her fingers reach yours.
"No one needs a nun who sneaks off at night," she says, but her words are dripping with affection.
"But I know you want that nun."
"That I do."
Sandrone
She melts into your embrace as you say her name. She shivers and nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck. She adores when you hold her like this. "I could stay here forever," she mumbles, her voice fuzzy with exhaustion. Sleep pulls at her like a tide, but she fights it, wanting to stay in your arms. Sandrone's head rests on your chest, listening to the gentle thump of your heartbeat. It's the most wonderful sound in the world, to her. She closes her eyes and hums contently, enjoying your presence and your warmth.
"You're mine," she murmurs, her voice soft and weary. She burrows into you, seeking more of your touch, more of your skin. "I don't give a fuck what others say, you're mine...period." Sandrone yawns and cuddles against you, feeling the exhaustion finally winning. She doesn't want to sleep, but it's too hard to fight off now.
"Yours," she whispers, as though it's a promise. Her eyes droop closed, but she mumbles one last thing.
"Love you."
Sara
Sara lies on your lap, her head resting in your legs and face nuzzling gently into your stomach. Her body is loose, tension seeping out of her body like sunlight melts the early frost. She lets out a soft sigh, a blissful hum escaping her throat.
"This is the best," she murmurs, her voice soft with sleep and adoration. "Being with you." Sara can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, the sound a soothing melody that she'd happily listen to forever. Her eyes close, a soft smile spreading across her lips. She burrows closer to you, her body seeking the warmth of your presence.
"Can we stay like this?" she asks, her voice quiet. "Just a while longer?"
"Mhm, of course." She hums in contentment, burying her face into the fabric of your clothes. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of you, that familiar aroma she loves so much. Her body relaxes further in your lap, completely at your mercy.
Her heart rate slows, her breathing deep and even. She cuddles closer to you, her hands wrapping tight around your waist, holding you close like she never wants to let go.
"Maybe forever," she whispers.
Sayu - platonic
Sayu is blissfully content as you lie together. She is completely relaxed as her eyes shut and her breathing slows. In her sleep, she subconsciously curls closer to you, pressing her body against you as if she is searching for a way to merge her body with yours.
In her sleep, she breathes your name; quiet and soft, like the sound of the first flower unfurling and opening as the spring sun rises.
"...Mm...let's go...strong...together..." A small smile rests on her face all through her sleep. She continues to press herself against you as she slumbers, her arm wrapping around your waist and drawing you close, her head coming to rest on the crook of your shoulder. Her body is so small that she practically fits perfectly against you, cuddling together with her like this is natural.
Every now and then, she'll murmur your name again, her breath puffing out against your skin and sending goose bumps along with it.
Scaramouche
"This is… unnecessary." Scaramouche fidgets as he lies on top of you, arms around your middle. He is tense, a statue carved of white marble, each line set in stone.
Still, he doesn't try to leave. He only fidgets, as if adjusting his position will make it all feel just a little less embarrassing.
"And yet, here we are." Scaramouche let's out a long sigh, his breath warm against your skin. After a moment, he shifts again, rolling onto his back. But rather than moving away, he pulls you with him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you with him until you are on top, laying against his chest.
"There," he mumbles. "Now do not try and move. Stay." He can feel the heat of your body as you lie against him, head tucked beneath his chin. The steady rise and fall of his chest betrays his feigning of indifference; his heart beats like the wings of a bird in a cage.
"Why are we doing this?" He asks, his voice quiet, but his arms remain around your shoulders, his hands clinging to you, pulling you closer.
"Oh right, to fucking practice physical touch."
Sethos
Sethos hums softly, his eyes slipping shut. His head lays in your lap, his body pressed against you. He can feel the heat of you under his skin. His body, for once, is at peace.
“This is nice,” he murmurs, and his arms wind around you, holding you even closer. "Glad you like it." “More than like it,” Sethos admits, letting his eyes close. He can hear your heart beating against his ear, the steady drum-like rhythm like a lullaby.
He nuzzles his head against you, enjoying the comfort he finds in the proximity.
“If we could stay like this forever,” he mumbles, “I’d want nothing more.” Sethos’ hand glides across your body, tracing your curves and lines in an almost reverent manner. His touch is light, as if he was touching fine china.
He shifts slightly against you, leaning up to murmur against your shoulder. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, the words like a quiet breath of wind upon your skin.
"So fucking lovely."
Shenhe
Shenhes head rests gently against your chest, listening to the beating of your heart. The quiet sounds of your breathing, a steady in-and-out rhythm, soothe her like a lullaby. Being this close to you is something she never knew she craved, like a parched person being given water in the desert.
Shenhe sighs, content. "Your heartbeat is beautiful," she mumbles, nuzzling her cheek into your skin.
"Good?" She nods against your chest. "Yes," she whispers. "Good."
She closes her eyes, letting the steady beat of your heart lull her into a feeling of security. Shenhe gently runs her fingers along your arm, exploring the feeling of your skin under her touch, wanting to commit it to memory forever. She's never felt more at peace than in this moment in your arms. She tugs the blanket around herself, pressing herself closer to you. The silence between you is comfortable, a quietness that is soft and warm like freshly laundered blankets. Shenhe's hand finds yours, her fingers weaving between yours like vines. She holds onto you in your embrace, her body fitting perfectly against yours. She could stay like this for hours, a moment of peace in a lifetime of turmoil.
"We could do this more often."
Shinobu
"Youre tense..." She leans into your touch immediately, relaxing under your hands with a soft shudder. She lets out a low breath, closing her eyes and pressing her face into the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry," she whispers against your skin. "Being near you simply… makes me a bit nervous."
She pauses, then she laughs quietly.
"I'm not used to this." She's silent for a few moments, inhaling the scent of your skin and simply listening to your heartbeat, and then she nuzzles against you again.
"You smell nice," she murmurs, her voice a soft whisper against your shoulder. "You always smell so good. Like flowers. Better than those guys from the gang."
"And your hair really soft." "Mm..." her grip on your arms tightens ever so slightly at the mention of her hair. The tips of her ears look faintly pink, though it's impossible to say if it's from the heat or because of embarrassment.
"You think so?"
There's a note of insecurity in her voice. She's not quite looking at you, but instead just resting her head against your shoulder again, like she's hiding.
"It's not… too unkempt?"
"Not at all. It's perfect."
Sigewinne - platonic
"How are your studies." "I'm doing my best." Sigewinne responds, her voice quiet. She's curled up against you, her head resting on your chest, listening to the comforting sound of your heartbeat.
"Human bodies are so fragile," she whispers, her hand splayed across your torso. "No wonder they're so scared of everything. Their hearts beat so quickly. And their skin is warm," she continues, eyes falling closed. She focuses the full force of her senses on the steady drumming of your pulse, on the gentle rise and fall of your chest.
"You're so warm." She murmurs, burying her face into your neck.
"Maybe I should start studying you!"
Succrose
Succrose's hair is splayed loosely over her face, her head resting on your chest as you cuddle. No matter how many times you hold her, she never gets used to the touch. It's too much; you're too much. She can't get enough.
Her fingers cling to you as though you are water in the desert, her skin pressing against yours as if she needs you to be alive. "I love this," she admits, the words whispered as if they're a secret. Her breath is warm against your skin. Her hair is like silk running through your fingers. She's more relaxed than usual, her body soft and supple as she melts into the comfort of your touch.
She lets out a shaky breath, burying her face into your shirt. You can hear the rapid beating of her heartbeat in her chest, can feel the nervous tremors running through her slender frame. "I'm glad you do."
She nods, burying her face into your chest again. "I don’t understand how you’re so perfect," she mumbles against your skin.
"It doesn't make...sense..."
Thoma
As you lean against his chest, Thoma's arms wrap around you in a gentle embrace. He is warm, comfortable. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of you as if he is drinking you in.
"I could stay like this forever," he murmurs in your ear. His hair brushes your cheek, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart. Cuddling in a meadow like this...is beautiful. His hand finds your own, and he runs his fingers over your skin. His touch is light, like a whisper, but there is something reverent in the way he holds you. He holds you as if you are fragile. Breakable. Precious. As if simply being allowed to touch you is a privilege.
"Me too." He runs his fingers over your wrist, tracing invisible patterns across your skin with his fingertips. His other hand comes up to thread through your hair. A quiet chuckle escapes Thoma's lips as he hears your words. He tightens his hold on you just a little, as if to reassure himself that you are still here, still in his arms. Still his.
"You know," he murmurs, shifting so that his chin is on your shoulder, "sometimes I worry that you know me too well."
Tighnari
Tighnari, sits with his back pressed against a tree. You are in his lap, sitting between his legs. One of his hands drifts idly through the hair at the nape of your neck, fingers gently scratching against your scalp.
He can hear your breathing. Feel the rise and fall of your chest. Your warmth against his, the faint scent of your hair.
His head tilts against yours, resting his chin against your shoulder and closing his eyes.
"Oh look! Fireflies!." His eyes flutter open again as you speak, the soft utterance bringing a small smile to his face. He cranes his neck to look at the fireflies dancing amongst the trees. "They're pretty." Tighnari murmurs, his lips nearly brushing against your ear as he speaks. His fingers play idly with the hair at the nape of your neck, the callouses on his hands catching gently against your skin. The fireflies cast a soft, glowing light over the two of you. It makes your skin glow.
Tighnari's chest tightens.
"You're pretty." He says, the words a quiet murmur against your hair.
Venti
Venti is sitting with you on a sturdy tree branch, comfortably resting on your lap. The Anemo Archon leans against you, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck, basking in the warmth of your body. The two of you are high up in the air, surrounded by a sea of swaying trees and stars.
The wind god is silent for a moment, before speaking again. "I didn't think you would summon me this late in the night." Venti remarks casually, as if he’s not currently cuddled up on your lap."Summon? I asked and you agreed-!" "I know," Venti responds with a laugh, nuzzling his face further against your neck. "I'm just saying. You almost always call me earlier in the day."
Venti takes a moment to enjoy the close contact, humming softly in contentment. "I am a little curious - why did you request for me to come here? I'd think you'd be asleep by now."
"You don't like it?" "No, I do. I like it very much," Venti replies quickly, lifting his head away from your neck to look at you properly.
He is silent for a moment, his eyes dancing in the night, illuminated only by the faint shine of the stars. Then, Venti smiles; a gentle, lopsided smile, almost sheepish. "I was just wondering," he reassures.
"That's all."
Wriothesley
"You sure everyone's asleep?" You ask worried after hearing another sound from outside his office. "Absolutely," he murmurs in reply, his chin resting against your shoulder. There's an easy, quiet confidence in his words, and not a hint of concern.
His hands rest on your hips, thumbs absently rubbing circles against your skin where just below your shirt, his arms keeping you pinned to him, chest against your back. "We're safe," he breathes against your neck. He shifts a little in his chair and tugs you closer against him, hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist. He buries his face against the expanse of bare skin, kissing your skin absentmindedly.
"Besides, you and I both know I can make you keep quiet, don't we, darling?"
You playfully swat his arm, "No respect for a god-!" He laughs, the sound deep and rich, like smoke curling through a forest. His lips find the junction between your shoulder and your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses before nipping at it.
His hands slide under the edge of your shirt, calloused fingers tracing up the smooth skin of your stomach.
"A god who's sitting in my lap, letting me touch and kiss and taste her like this?" He murmurs, licking a stripe along the curve of your shoulder.
"I'm showing you plenty of respect."
Xiangling - aged up
She is sitting on your lap, blushing as she hears her name fall from your lips.
She's never been used to this sort of attention before, and the feeling of you holding her makes her heart flutter in her chest. She can feel the warmth of your body through her clothes, and her mind can't help but wonder what it would be like to be even closer to you.
As you take a bite of her food, she watches your reaction expectantly, praying you will say you like it.
"Xiangling?! That's amazing-!" Xianglings heart swells with pride. To receive your praise, and to see your satisfaction at something she has created just for you...it's more than she ever thought she'd be granted.
"Really?" she stutters, eyes wide as she turns to look up at you, "you really like it?" "Mhm!" Your response makes Xianglings heart feel as if it might stop right there. A smile threatens to burst from her lips, one that threatens to stretch across her whole face and light her up like a star. You have made her happier than she's been in a long time, and Xiangling can't help but adore you for it.
"I'm so glad," she says, her voice full of joy. You love her cooking. You really do, and that makes her feel like the luckiest person on Teyvat.
"Whats this by the way? It's really good-!"
"Hilichurl."
"WHAT?!"
Xiao
He stiffens, his body going rigid at the sensation of being cuddled, being held closely in that way. It seems that this is a whole new experience for him.
"What—" He stops himself and inhales deeply, his body quivering against yours as he tries to process the feel of it all. The warmth, the nearness. The comfort.
Xiao swallows heavily a few times. His voice is quiet when he speaks again. "I've never…"
"Shh, relax." It's hard for him to relax, at first.
Xiao has never been held, never been loved like this. Every muscle in his body is rigid, quivering with a strange, foreign feeling.
But he forces himself to try. Slowly, he relaxes, letting the tension flow from his body into the night, until he's all but melting in your arms. "This is new," he mutters. "But I like it."
"Told you." He laughs quietly at your words and presses himself a little closer against you, burying his face into your neck, against your bare skin. He murmurs something against your skin, voice soft. "How is it that you always end up being right?"
"Heh-" "Shut up."
Xianyun
Xianyun's breath stutters as you lay against her chest. She is still for a moment— and then, like a dam breaking, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you close. Her arms are firm and strong, yet all she wants to do is hold you. She breathes out a soft, shaky sigh against your hair.
“You are mine,” she whispers. Xianyun's chest rises and falls as she holds you, her arms wrapped around you like a coil. Her heart pounds against your ear, her fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes. It is as though she is afraid you might slip away, as though there is nothing she would not do if it meant staying near you.
"Please," she pleads, her voice soft and desperate. She wants to say more, but the words stick to her tongue. What comes out instead is nothing but a whisper, a fervent prayer in the shape of a single word.
"Stay."
Xinyan
She lets out a content sound, her head in your lap. She feels safe here. Protected. Loved. She closes her eyes and allows herself to listen to you talk. The sound of your voice is sweet, comforting, lulling her worries into obscurity. For now, all is well.
"What happened?" *she asks, when you take a pause in talking. She opens her eyes and gazes up at you, curious what had happened to make your day notable.
"Nothing, just keep relaxing." You say with a smile. She hums her agreement. She buries her face in your stomach, wrapping her arms around you. Her fingers gently run up and down your back, her touch as light as a moth’s wing.
"‘m relaxin’," she mumbles, her voice muffled. Xinyan feels sleep tugging at the corners of her consciousness. The rhythm of your breath, your warmth beneath her skin, and the sweet scent you carry are all threatening to drag her into oblivion. One last thing weighs on her mind, her thoughts fuzzy and tired.
"Tell me somethin' before I fall asleep," she requests, half-whining as she speaks.
"I love you..."
"....me...too....w-wai...t...?"
Xingqiu - aged up
Xingqiu reads the words from the page aloud, his voice low and soothing. He murmurs your name softly, his lips caressing the syllables with a tender reverence.
He is comfortable in your embrace. His body sits flush against yours, a warm and constant presence. He pauses the story every now and then, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder before continuing.
He reads to you until the moon is high in the sky, and you have long drifted off to sleep, still cuddling him. Xingqiu sets the book aside, smiling fondly at the sight of you sleeping, peaceful as they come. He takes a moment to trace his eyes over your features, his gaze tender and warm.
He pulls the blankets up around your shoulders, and then he shifts to lay down beside you, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling against your warmth. Xingqiu pulls you close, his nose buried against the crook of your neck. He inhales slowly, breathing in your scent.
His fingers trace mindless patterns over your hip, the movement as steady and soothing as a heartbeat. He shifts his leg so that it is tangled with yours, trying to get as close to you as he can.
He whispers your name, the sound like a secret meant for your ears only.
The world melts into a comfortable silence, with Xingqiu and you, holding each other in the dark.
Yae Miko
"Stop it-!" "I don't think I will," Miko teases, her voice light as she watches you thrash around in her embrace. She presses her fingers into the underside of your ribcage once more, just to feel you squirm. "Besides," she continues in a softer tone, "You look rather adorable like this."
Her hand moves to your tummy, gently tracing the ticklish skin there, watching as your eyes clamp shut and your laughter rings.
Seeing you like this, writhing and helpless, is all Miko has ever wanted. She has her arm pinned around your torso, trapping you against her, her slender fingers dancing down your side as she mercilessly continues to tease you.
Her lips brush against your ear. "Be a good girl and hold still for me, hm?"
"That's it," she praises in a low murmur, her voice like a hum against your ear. "Stay right there. Just like that."
Miko's hand still wanders across your skin, the tip of her forefinger tracing circles that make your toes curl and the sound of laughter slip past your lips despite your efforts to stay still.
"Fuck you-!"
"You will, later."
Yanfei
"And what is NOT against the law?" As you ask your question, Yanfei rests her head in your arms, relaxing in your presence. She blinks and tilts her head like a puppy, considering your question for a few moments.
"Hmm," she hums, her gaze drifting somewhere off in the distance before she looks back at you. She smiles. "Everything is legal when done in the name of love," she says, her voice lilting in a way that indicates she's joking. Your words make her think. Her eyes flutter as her thoughts race, and a moment later, Yanfei lets out a soft huff, snuggling even closer.
"Being happy," she adds in a quiet murmur, her words a little mumbled against your skin. "Being alive. Being free."
Her chin lifts as she shifts, turning to look at you once more.
"As far as I know, everything else is against the law," a soft huff follows her words, and she presses a kiss against the side of your neck. Another moment of silence falls before Yanfei opens her mouth, a gentle exhale against your skin as she continues.
"Did you know,” she adds, her words hushed and soft like the night breeze, "that being beautiful is also not against the law?"
She pauses, shifting a little, her body moving even closer. The room is quiet, nothing breaking the silence.
“Because if it were,” she whispers, and she lifts a hand to gently cup your cheek, “You’d be in deep trouble.”
Yaoyao - platonic
Yaoyao buries her head into you, seeking the comfort your presence brings. Her arms wrap around your torso, pulling herself closer to you. She presses her face into your shoulder, closing her eyes as she breaths in your scent.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely louder than a breath. For a moment, she feels safe. Like you'll guard her from all harm.
"It's cold without you."
"After all I told you, if you fell lonely on your little adventures, come to me." A shudder runs through her body as Yaoyao clings to you even more, her fingers digging into the fabric of your clothing, as if she's loath to let go.
"Can I stay?" she asks, the words tumbling from her lips like water from a river bank. Despite the pleading in her voice, her head is still buried in your shoulder.
"Please, I want to stay with you. I always wanted to live here for a while-!"
Yelan
Yelan's breath hitches when you pull her closer, her head against your chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "This is all I need," she mumbles, the words falling from her lips before she can stop them. "Just this, forever. I don't need anything else." She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes closing as she nuzzles into you, resting her head against your shoulder. Even in your embrace, you can feel her body relax as if the simple touch took some great tension out of her.
"A gooood nap...Mm... Sounds like heaven," she mumbles sleepily against your skin, not bothering to hide her smile. Yelan drapes an arm across your torso, pulling herself even closer to you. She practically melts against your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a cat seeking warmth. A soft, contented hum rumbles in her chest, her breathing steady and slow as she buries her face against you.
"With you."
Yoimiya
She melts under your touch, leaning against your body and letting out a soft and contented sigh. Her eyes flutter closed as she soaks in your presence, a gentle smile playing across her lips. Every touch of your hands sends a shiver of pleasure through her, her skin burning wherever you make contact. She nuzzles against your side, relishing the feeling of your body pressed against hers.
"I could stay here like this forever," she whispers. "Just you and me.. in this perfect moment...watching fireworks." The colorful explosions of light in the sky are beautiful, but to Yoimiya, even their beauty is dull compared to you. Her eyes remain fixed on you, watching the way the bursts of rainbow light reflect off your skin, dancing across your eyes like living flames.
She reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She draws your palm to her lips, pressing a reverent and tender kiss to your skin.
"You are more beautiful than any fireworks," she whispers.
Yun Jin
"It was beautiful, breathtaking. You almost brought me to tears." She nuzzles closer to you at the praise, her heart fluttering like a bird's wing beating against a ribcage. She tucks her head against your chest with a sigh, her heart still beating much too fast from the high of preforming. Adrenaline still courses through her veins, making her head spin and her hands tremble when they grip onto you to steady her.
"I'm glad you think so," she says, her voice a little sheepish. "I just... worry about my preforming sometimes. I think I'm not good enough." Yun Jin buries her head against your chest, refusing to look you in the eyes as she spills her innermost fears and anxieties. She keeps her arms around you, scared she'll lose you if she lets go even an inch.
"I don't think my voice is good or the way I dance is captivating. I just..." then she laughs.
"No it's stupid. We all worry, mostly over nothing. I'm good...I'm very good...and you always tell me so it must be true."
Zhongli
Zhongli is still as a statue at your side; his body tense and stiff. But as you begin to pull him closer, he begins to melt in your arms.
Tentatively, he allows his head to rest against your shoulder, his breaths coming out in a shudder. He's still hesitant, but he lets you pull him closer. He wants to touch you back; to embrace you as you embrace him. But would he be crossing some invisible line he cannot see? He doesn't want to offend you.
"Let loose and relax." You reassure. Zhongli's mind is racing with thoughts— what if he does the wrong thing? What if he displeases you?
But his body seems to act of its own accord, as though some invisible weight was lifted from his shoulders as soon as you spoke.
He slowly leans against you, his body relaxing. He burrows closer to you, wrapping his arms weakly around your waist.
"I've never felt more awkward." You laugh.
"Agreed...I apolog-" "shush-! I love this."
5K notes · View notes
pseudowho · 2 months ago
Text
You and Kento bustled through the kitchen, and with your arms full of plates, you couldn't resist giving the top of Yuuji's head a nuzzle and a kiss as you passed.
Yuuji smiled at you both, full and warm for the first time in years. You and Kento felt his eyes on you as you weaved past each other, in a practiced after-dinner-clean-up Tango.
"Ah...hey, Nanamin, I-- I've got, uh...I've got a, uhm..."
Kento's interest was piqued. He stopped washing up and, with one raised fine eyebrow, turned to regard Yuuji while he dried the suds off his forearms.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
Yuuji looked awkward. Eventually, he stuttered out through a sheepish grin.
"I've uh...I've got a date tomorrow, so I won't be home for dinner."
A gasp. A smash!clinkclinkclink as you dropped a mug to the floor, and Kento closed his eyes in wounded resignation for the death of his favourite mug. You stepped across him, pressing your palms to the counter, wild-eyed at Yuuji.
"A date?"
"Uh...y-yea--"
"A date date?"
"...I...Nanamin, I'm scared--"
"--she can't hurt you, Yuuji--"
"A date!"
You could barely contain your excitement; Kento huffed, plucking pieces of porcelain from the floor, while you squished Yuuji's cheeks and cooed.
Yuuji barely escaped in one piece that evening before bed, grilled for any piece of information you could get your hands on. Eventually, he escaped, the lock clicking behind him as he shut his bedroom door.
Flopping onto your back into bed beside Kento, with enough force to make his reading glasses bounce on his nose, you sighed with one dramatic arm across your forehead.
"I'm just so happy for him, Kento."
A warm little smile; a folding of the book. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Did he say who it was?"
"You know, of all the things I asked him, I didn't ask him that."
A chuckle, a hum...a silence. A rustle of pages. A gentle removal of reading glasses, and Kento looked over you with quiet scrutiny, as if your state of undress in a t-shirt and nothing more stirred memories for him.
You blinked up at him, "...what's wrong?"
Kento's nose flared, and he laid down beside you, switching the light off. You could hear him blushing in the dark.
"Do you think Yuuji's a virgin?"
You felt a thud of realisation, and answered, "I...should think he probably is. I...what should we..."
"Don't worry," Kento answered, clipped and looping an arm over your waist, "I can handle that."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"Yuuji. If you have a moment, could you come and speak to me, please?"
You felt an alarm bell in your soul. The sun was setting, on the evening of Yuuji's date, but Kento was still fully dressed. He'd even buttoned his suit jacket up and redone his tie. His pocket rustled. You could have sworn you saw a droplet of sweat drip down his temple.
You paused your murder documentary...and watched, for this would surely be more horrifying. Yuuji leaned round the bathroom door, innocently curious, and padded over with his hands in his pockets. He pulled out his phone.
"Ah...y-yeah, I think they'll be here in a minu--"
"Sit down. Please. Yuuji."
You could have sworn Kento left dents in the top of the chair that he grasped. Yuuji sat slowly, wary, looking between you and Kento. From your place on the sofa, you shrugged. Kento spoke.
"You're...a young man now, Yuuji."
"Ah...yeah. I-I guess I am. Thank--"
"--and sometimes young men have...urges."
You wished for death, but would take the entertainment before you expired. Yuuji's blush started at his chin, and climbed slowly upwards, a sun-ripening peach.
"...Nanamin. Please, you-- you don't have to do--"
"--and it's important to understand the difference between lust, and love."
"Oh god, Nanamin, I'm begging you--"
"--and while it's only natural to follow your urges, it's important to do so responsibly--"
"--Mrs.Nanamin, I'm scared--"
"--he can't hurt you, Yuuji--"
Kento pulled the rustling packet from his pocket, and placed it before Yuuji on the table. The room was thick with silence. Yuuji spoke, his voice breaking and his soul sweating.
"...Nanamin, please say that's candy--"
"I've bought you these condoms--"
"--please just let me die, Nanamin--"
"--ribbed, dots, big, small, strawberry I think--"
"--please-- I have to go--"
"--and I only ask that you're sensible and treat your partner with the respect and dignity they deserve--"
"--please treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve and just kill me Nanamin--"
"...and be home by midnight."
Silence. You had held your breath through the whole thing, and held one hand over your mouth. You studiously avoided Yuuji's gaze. Yuuji's mouth puckered, staring up at Nanami, who looked as serious as a car crash.
Yuuji's phone rang. He snatched it up, and made for the door. Kento called after him, mild, "Your condoms, Yuuji--"
"--oh well shit yeah can't forget those, fuck--"
"--language, Yuuji--"
Yuuji stood at the door, considering answering back. He took a single deep breath. He swallowed hard, and stopped himself from scarpering immediately, and turned back to Kento.
"Hey, uh...was that, erm...was that difficult for you, Nanamin?"
"It was the worst thing I've ever done in my life."
"Yeah, it--it felt it, uhm..." Yuuji waggled the bag of condoms with a smirk, pocketing them, "Thanks, dad. Nobara and Megumi are waiting. We'll go for a date, and the other idiot's our chaperone apparently."
As the door clicked closed, Kento released one great heaving breath, and arched back with his hands over his face, releasing an enormous, animalistic groan of agony.
You bubbled over, snickering, and traced one toe up Kento's thigh from behind.
"...oh hey, Mr.Nanami, sir, can you teach me about the birds and the bees--"
"Quiet."
3K notes · View notes
gyaruhana · 24 days ago
Note
Hi Xae, have a good new year, I wanted to ask you if you could write about Kang Dae-ho (player 388) from Squid Game 2, where the reader joins Gihun's team and even though it's only been a few hours, she and Dae-ho already have chemistry and Dae-ho tells Gihun's friend how pretty the reader is, making him a little angry and calling him a fool in love, ty ❤!
-🦊
Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388 - Fool in love
Synopsis: You and Dae-ho get along within the first second you meet - maybe it's meant to be?
A/N: Finally dropping this !! Dae-ho is so cutie and I love him sm
Warning: none !!
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A game where death is lurking right around the corner is enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine. Especially yours. You only came here because you needed the money but you weren't confident that you'd be willing to die for it. The idea that you might die soon made you utterly afraid. You had a family that you'd most definitely like to go home to but most of the other players seemed far too keen to stay in this hell and it meant you were stuck there with them too.
On a more fortunate note, there seemed to be a previous winner amidst the hundreds of other players and you'd be damned if you didn't rely on someone who knew what he was doing. If he really was a winner, then he could predict the games. Maybe then you'd actually have a chance of getting out alive and with a lot of money.
“Hi. You're the guy from earlier who said that he played this before, right?” You ask as you stand in front of player 456. You thought maybe being his ally would make you feel better but, with the way he looked up at you, he was actually kind of scary. It's like his face had been frozen into a hard glare. Though, to be fair, he was apparently the sole survivor of the game he played so he must have suffered plenty of losses. You suppose you'd look that unhappy too if you lost people you cared about.
He gives you a nod as the other people sitting around look at you too. They looked a lot less terrifying than him which made you feel a bit better. “I was wondering if maybe I could stick with you guys? I don't really want to be on my own and, since you've played these games before, you can help, right?” you ask with a hopeful look. You were really hoping that they'd be welcoming to you. 
“Mm? Who are you?” Someone suddenly speaks and, when you look towards the voice, you see a boy with food stuffed in his mouth peeking out from around the corner. His eyes briefly widen when he sees you properly before he quickly puts his food down and jumps off the bed. “Of course, you can stick with us,” he says rather eagerly as the three men behind him give him a strange look.
“Ah, really? Thank you,” you say with a nervous grin as he practically pushes you to sit down. You honestly didn't expect to be welcomed with such open arms. Actually, maybe that wasn't really a team decision but you didn't complain because now you had a team who could protect you and that you could hopefully trust. 
“So, who are you?” He asks as he grabs his food from the bed before he sits down beside you with his legs crossed. He looked genuinely interested to know everything about you and it made your heartbeat a little faster. He was cute. That was for sure. So to have his eyes on you was certainly making you slightly nervous. You cleared your throat before introducing yourself as you tried to maintain eye contact with him.
He repeats your name as if testing out how it sounds when said from his own mouth. After a slight pause, he gives a slight nod of approval before speaking up again. “I'm Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho,” he says with a smile. In all honesty, he had never seen someone as pretty as you. You really captivated his attention. He felt like he couldn't take his eyes off you.
“Kang Dae-ho,” you repeat quietly as you engrave the name into your mind. “That's a nice name,” you say with a small smile and he smiles too. “It's supposed to mean big tiger. Kang means big and Dae-ho means tiger,” he explains before taking a bite of his food. 
“Big tiger? You don't look very big,” you say with a small smile, teasing him slightly. He swallowed down his food before responding to your comment. “Wha-? I'm big! I was a marine,” he says with a proud smirk. You look at him and down and raise an eyebrow to send a clear message that you didn't believe him one bit.
“No, I'm serious!” He says before pulling his sleeve up to reveal his tattoo. “See?” He says as he makes sure you get a good look at it. “C'mon, anyone could get that tattooed on their arm,” you say and he immediately shakes his head in denial. 
“You still don't believe me? Maybe I need to show you my strength then,” he says with a small smile before throwing some gentle punches at you. You laugh at his actions as you two play fight - something that captures the attention of the other three that were sitting around. They look at you two before exchanging a glance between each other then looking away and trying to act as if you and Dae-ho aren't clearly forming some sort of chemistry right now.
The next few hours you had spent exclusively with Dae-ho talking about every little thing. You opened up to him about why you were in these games and what you had gone through and he listened so intently, it made your heart race. You swear your brain would short circuit when he looked at you with that look. When his head was tilted and his eyes said all the words he wanted to say with his mouth.
You couldn't believe you were crushing on a guy you just met. Sure, he was a good listener, funny, strong, nice, and everything else that makes someone perfect but you couldn't just fall in love with him. Hell, you're both in a game of death! One of you could die tomorrow so you really shouldn't be letting your heart race at 100 miles per hour just because he's cute.
Before the both of you knew it, there was already five minutes until lights out and you'd all have to go to sleep to have energy for tomorrow’s game. You looked over at Dae-ho before speaking up. “Dae-ho, I'll be back. I'm just going to use the restroom,” you say with a small smile. When he nods his head, you wave before walking off quickly towards the door. He watched as you knocked on it before having it opened by a guard and then promptly disappearing round the corner. 
He let out a sigh before turning around and walking over to Jung-bae. You were so pretty. He honestly couldn't believe you were real. Maybe his brain had made you up as a coping mechanism? You were just so perfect in his eyes. Everything he could possibly want. God, he'd love to take you to dinner sometime when both of you get out of this place so he can give you the love and attention you deserve. He just wished that he could cover your face in kisses for hours on end and hold your hand while taking a walk together. He didn't care if it was cliche. It didn't matter because it was for you.
He finally made it to Jung-Bae and took a seat next to him quietly. He shifted slightly to rest his chin on his hand and waited for Jung-Bae to ask what was on his mind. It was quiet for a few moments as Jung-bae chose to pretend like Dae-ho definitely didn’t have anything to say about you so Dae-ho made the quick decision to let out another sigh- this time much louder to catch Jung-bae’s attention and force him to ask what's on his mind.
Jung-bae turns to look at him with slight annoyance. “What? Don't just sit there and sigh. What is it?” Jung-bae asks as Dae-ho turns to look at him with a shy smile. “She’s so pretty,” he says with his face flushed slightly red, embarrassed that he was fawning over you like this. “Huh?” Jung-bae responds, confused about what he was talking about. 
“Her. She’s so pretty. She has the most amazing laugh and the cutest smile and-” Dae-ho begins to speak before receiving a smack over the back of his head making him shut up. The smile on his face drops as he looks at Jung-bae like a confused puppy.
“You're such a fool. You just met her a few hours ago,” he says as he shakes his head in disapproval. Dae-ho laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess.. but still. She's so perfect,” he says in poor defense. 
He hears the door open and his head snaps towards it immediately. He was hoping it was you because he already missed talking to you, even if it's only been a few minutes since you left for the bathrooms. When he sees you, he quickly smiles and, if he was a dog, anyone would see his tail wagging back and forth. Jung-bae let out a sigh and shook his head like some father who was disappointed in his son.
“You're planning to ask her out, aren't you?” He says only to get an immediate response.
“absolutely,”
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ebodebo · 7 months ago
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Tough As Nails—Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy!
thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part one |
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He had become a nuisance. A pest, a headache. Every single adjective you can think of to describe a pain in the ass he was.
Your father's ranch hand, whom he hired all of six months ago, had become something of a bother, an inconvenience to you. He was annoying and stubborn. Narrowed his eyes at you too often for your liking. Scoffed when you would correct him. And scolded you when you would have people on the property when your parents would leave town—even going so far as to kick your guests off the property altogether.
But tonight would be different; it was the Fourth of July. You would happily throw your party in the barn your family owns, on the property they own. You weren't going to let him order you around tonight.
"What the hell is all of this?" Simon seethed, taking in the concrete floor covered in empty beer bottles and spilled grain. His booming voice caused some partygoers to straighten up, though no one dared to speak.
He clenched his jaw at the lack of cooperation. "Huh?" He paused, his fists clenching so hard they began to turn white.
"So, no one can speak?" He walked over to a guy sitting on a bale of hay, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him off the hay tossing him aside.
"Get the fuck off my hay." He gritted to the guy.
"Where is she?" All he could think about was the little pain in his ass who was responsible for this. The guy he pulled off the hay immediately pointed towards an old wooden outhouse away from the barn.
Simon rolled his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. "If I come back and any of you are still here." He looked over everyone.
"I will not hesitate to shoot you for trespassing."
Safe to say, everyone in the barn scrambled out of the barn at that very second. Simon turned on his heels and stalked over to the outhouse, where he saw you leaning up against the outside with a guy's hands roaming your body, making out.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" You jumped at the sound of his voice, pushing the guy on you off your body.
"Sim—"
"Don't." He moved closer, standing directly in front of you, pointing his finger at you. "Don't Simon me."
"It's the Fourth of July, Simon. Lighten up."
"Do you realize your idiot friends spilled hundreds of dollars worth of grain and fucked with your dad's equipment?" All he had to do was glance at the guy just kissing you for him to go scurrying off.
"Shit, I shouldn't have left them alone. I wasn't thinking." You curse, looking up at him to meet his eyes.
"Ya, you're right." He stepped closer.
“You don't think." He gritted out before continuing.
"You're impulsive. Reckless."
Your eyes widen at his words. Who does this guy think he is? "Don't forget you work for me."
He lets out a deep, dry chuckle. "Actually, I work for your dad." 
"Whatever." You scoff as you take a step to walk past him.
"We are not done talking." He reaches out to grab your wrist; you swiftly turn your head to look up at him.
"I'm done listening to you." You grit out, eyes full of anger.
"Oh, is that it?" He scoffs out as you take a step away, only to trip over a wide hole in the ground, making both of you topple over, him falling on top of you. He's quick to plant a hand on the ground before, so his entire body weight isn't on you.
After you recognize the pain from the fall, you look up at Simon, who's on top of you, eyes boring into yours. Your pulse increases at the proximity, and your breath becomes more shallow.
His eyes blazed with fury, yours full of irritation. You can't help but glance at his lips, hovering not too far away from your own. This little action made him lose it. His self-control was already hanging on by a single thread, and the look you gave was what finally cut through. His lips crashed onto yours with such force that it took your air away.
It wasn't gentle or tender. It was desperation, months of built-up vexation. It was downright sinful.
You gasp once his lips meet yours but quickly return the sentiment. Your hands move to glide through his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, making him groan.
He yanks his cowboy hat off as he grips your waist to flip you so you are now on top of him, straddling his waist as he sits up.
"I thought you didn't like me." You smugly remark as he connects his lips to the side of your neck, and his hands start undoing buttons on your top.
"Like has nothing to do with this." He murmurs into your neck, lightly nipping at your sensitive skin, making you sigh.
"Keep telling yourself that, Cowboy." You jest, grabbing the back of his neck bringing him back up to your lips, already greedy for another taste of him.
He continues working on undoing your top buttons as his tongue collides with yours, and your teeth graze his own.
He cups your breast over the fabric of your bra as soon as he gets the buttons undone, making you whimper. His hand slips down to grip the fat of your ass as he leans in so his lips are lightly grazing your ear.
"You do it on purpose, don't you?" You could feel the roughness of his voice so close to your ear. You leaned into his lips grazing your ear.
"Do what?" You breathe out as his hand roams from your ass to the front of your belt, gently unclasping your belt buckle.
"You playin' dumb now?" He questioned, gently nipping at your ear lobe. The sensation made you let out a low moan before roughly grabbing his face and connecting your lips back to his.
He matched your hungry kiss, reciprocating an even hungrier one of his own as he tossed your belt off to the side and slid off your pitiful excuse for jean shorts down past your thighs.
He quickly undid his belt buckle and threw it off to the side, sliding his jeans down.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." You breathe out, reaching between the two of you to release him from the confines of his boxers.
His mouth went dry at your touch. "Do what exactly?" He choked out as you carefully pumped him up and down.
"Ride you." You casually said as you slipped your already-soaked thong to the side to accommodate him. He could have come at your words. He almost did, but a quick relay of the steps to clean an AR-15 suppressed the urge. 
You grip him and slip him inside your dripping cunt, hissing at the contact. He grips your hips and gently sinks you lower, groaning as you grind into him. 
He brought his face closer to plant deep, wet kisses on your lips before groaning into your mouth as you continued your movements. "Fuck. Just like that." 
Your entire body erupted with goosebumps, and your nipples hardened at the sentiment. You grip his shoulders tightly, but before you pick up your pace, you hear a familiar truck pulling up to the gate of your family's ranch.
"Is that—" You begin before he thrusts into you, making you moan and throw your head back.
"So fuckin' sensitive." He leaned into your exposed neck and licked a strip up to your lips that were slightly parted. 
"Better come quick, sweetheart." He pants, gently bouncing you up and down on his cock, fingers digging into the tender flesh on your hips. 
"Wouldn't want your parents to see you riding me. Would you now?" You let out a pathetic whimper, bringing your hand down to swirl circles on your aching clit, while he wraps a strong arm around your waist to hold you in place as he drills himself into you.
Each thurst, each swirl of your finger, made you feel a sense of nirvana you didn't even know was possible to get to. It was pure bliss. That and his dirty tongue were spewing such filthy words that were making you wetter than you ever knew was possible.
"Tell me you're about to come because—” His pleading voice sends a final wave of heat through you.
"Fuck. Yes, I'm coming." You yelp, slipping your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light roots again. He silently curses as he comes, gripping you tighter and pressing your chest against his own.
By the time both of your orgasms subside, he silently and gently eases you up to assist you in pulling your thong and jean shorts back on. Then, he casually fixes his jeans and grabs his belt to put back on.
You glance at him, picking up his cowboy hat from the ground and carefully wiping off some dirt that had gotten on it. Though he doesn't slip it back on his head, as a shock to you, he places the hat on your head. It was a little big on you, so it fell a bit more in the front, slightly covering your eyes.
"Keep it.” He says, bending down to pick up your belt and buckle, gently slipping it around your waist and clasping it. He gently pats the buckle clasped in the front, then looks down at you before speaking.
"You earned it."
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a/n: who the fuck even wrote this
divider!
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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uravitypng · 9 months ago
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big beefy number one pro hero deku is absolutely smitten with you, his chubby little girlfriend, and yeah you're a little bit of an airhead sometimes but that makes you all the more endearing to him.
prior to meeting you he used to feel embarrassed whenever he'd ramble too long about heroes or quirks. after some time people would drown him out after he started his disjointed babbling, not wanting to listen to him ramble. with you it's different, the first time it happened he went to apologise to you. jirou once told him he should try and apologise if he realised he did it to strangers afterwards- especially now that he's a pro hero.
so he goes to stammer out an apology after realising he spoke to you uninterrupted about all might's golden age for five minutes and you tilt your head and giggle at him. izuku draws in a breath. "why are you apologising deku? i really liked hearing you speak. what about his other ages?"
izuku felt like he was malfunctioning, "what?"
you bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again. who knew pro hero deku is so cute? "like the silver age and the bronze age? are those all the ages or is there like a platinum age too?" izuku grins, you're so interested in what he has to say he can't help it. "wait was is all might's quirk again? he's like strong right? that's his quirk."
izuku pauses for a second before barking out a laugh. you pout and glare at him feigned annoyance. 'she's so adorable and ditzy. i need to speak to her again.'
you constantly praise him, not just for hero work either, and ever single time it makes his entire face red. it doesn't matter that you've been dating for four years now and izuku's brought an engagement ring, he still gets flustered with all the compliments.
people compliment him all the time, it comes with the job, but when you do it it means so much more. " 'zuku you're so brave!" "i don't understand this at all izuku, can you explain it too me? you're the smartest person i know." "you're so pretty." "your hair is so soft." "you're the best hero ever!"
a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead after being manhandled by your boyfriend into the cowgirl position, he loves holding onto your love handles and moving you up and down on his cock, with each bounce your body jiggles. you'll lay in bed with your face buried in his chest as you trace the scars on his arms with your fingertips lightly, "you're so strong izuku." you turn to face him and your chubby cheeks lift as you smile. "i'm so proud of you." his heart skips a beat. he's never loved anyone more than he loves you.
izuku gets possessive of you, he doesn't like people touching you. you're his. before you he never thought he would be jealous or possessive but then you came into his life and he nearly broke the glass of champagne he was holding when he saw todoroki talk to you. he knows todoroki doesn't like you like that, he's liked yaoyorozu since ua but he was too close to you and izuku hated it. his legs moved before he could think, walking up to you both with a forced smile on his face. he wraps his arm around your soft waist, tightly, and kisses your forehead. you smile sweetly at him and lean into his body. izuku brought you home earlier than you thought he would that night, holding onto your thick thigh with one hand while his other hand is on the steering wheel, driving you both home.
his jealous nature was cemented a week after when he saw kaminari talking to you. not just talking to you- flirting with you. if izuku was holding a glass like he was last time he most certainly would of smashed it in anger. you don't even realise what kaminari is doing and izuku knows you don't.
you listen to him talk intently and nod your head, you smile at him and laugh at his jokes. to some people they would think this would be you flirting back but you're not, you're just trying to be nice. kaminari has decided to talk to you and you want to be kind and listen to what he has to say and izuku has really admired that quality about you but right now he wishes you could pick up on the clear signs that kaminari is giving you.
izuku snaps when he sees kaminari look at your cleavage and glance at your body, his eyes lingering on your plush thighs. his voice is strained as he pulls you away from kaminari making some half-arsed, offhanded excuse as he takes you home immediately.
when he saves a small child and he gives them his award winning grin all he can think about afterwards is you. 'who are our kids going to look like? will they have my freckles? or maybe her hair? if they're half as cute as her they'll be the cutest kids ever.' he's already planning their bedrooms and his eyes drift to the baby clothes section at stores.
your boyfriend has the biggest breeding kink known to man and you get reminded of that as he folds your body into a mating press and groans deeply in your ear, "can't wait to see your soft body get softer puppy, promise i'll look after, you won't have to lift a finger." you loudly whine, grabbing hold of his large arms, every thrust causes a loud slapping sound with how wet you are. "you're gonna look so pretty puppy. i'm going to pump you full, make sure you don't spill any for me, just like the good girl you are."
izuku adores you and you feel exactly the same about him.
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