#the tenderness that these two had though was the softest

[woahkana]

[quimichi]

↳ ❝FIRST KISS WITH THE GENSHIN BOYS❝

warnings: slight NSFW - MDNI, some angst (Freminet, Mika & Xiao), cringe, not proof-read cause damn its long

summary: your first kiss with the genshin boys, yes even the harbingers and Mika, x Creator!Reader

characters: all genshin guys + harbingers

word count: 11.618

Aether

Aether's breath catches in his throat as your hand lands on his face. He doesn't look away from your eyes, his gaze still on yours as he takes in your touch with visible delight. He lets out a light, happy sigh as the sensation makes him shiver. Aether leans his face into your palm, relishing the touch. He seems to melt, and with a small whine, he nuzzles the palm of your hand. This makes him smile softly — just one touch and he's already gone to heaven. He closes his eyes, leaning happily into your touch.

"You know I love you...right?" Is what you say, carefully but you want to know. Aether's eyes slowly open as his head remains in your palm. His expression is soft, content, and he looks at you with almost desperate reverence. "Y-Yes, my grace," he whispers hoarsely, "I know." Aether continues to lean into your palm, pressing his face against it. His eyes remain closed, and he just leans into you as he sights loudly and contentedly. The sound is adorable, as is the way he so freely gives himself over to the touch of your hand.

"I am yours," he murmurs, the conviction in his voice clear. "Yours..." he whispers, his lips brushing against your palm. Aether seems to melt into you as your second hand touches his other cheek, his mind foggy and his eyes half-lidded in bliss. His breath catches in his throat; it isn't a breath of surprise, or one of fear, but one of anticipation — of sweet and tender surrender.

Your boy, willingly submitting to your touch; giving himself to you. A soft whimper leaves Aether's mouth, just mere inches away from yours, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Your Grace..." he whispers hoarsely, his words soft and trembling. You lean in, slowly your lips brush against his parted ones. Aether's entire body seems to vibrate with excitement; his lips part slightly at the contact and a soft, happy moan escapes them. He gently wraps his arms around you, leaning in closer for the kiss, as if giving himself to your caresses is a privilege he has waited an eternity for.

The moment is sweet and tender, as if the two of you share something that nobody else will ever be able to know. Like the whole world is reduced, right now, to just the two of you. It is like a dream to Aether. His body quakes slightly as you pull away, his tongue gliding over his lips hungrily, and the breath leaving his mouth as if he just had a sip of divine nectar. He doesn't let go of you, though; as he gazes up at you with a warm blush across his cheeks, his arms remain firmly wrapped around you, as if he wants to make sure you have no intention of letting go.

"You are divine," he says softly, almost as if he's praying. "I'll never forget this, our first kiss ever shared...."

Albedo

For a moment, Albedo seems to struggle to find a way to express the depth of his feelings. He hesitates until he finally forces himself to speak. "I... love you, Your Grace. Immensely. I would do anything for you. I would give you everything, if it were mine to give."

His words are barely above a whisper. He averts his gaze. There's the softest of smiles on his lips as he closes his eyes for a moment. He's not sure what to say after that. Would anything be enough? Albedo is silent for a moment before he nods.

"If you wish."

Without so much as a blink, Albedo has dropped to his knees in front of you. No longer is there a doubt in his mind nor a shred of hesitation in his stance. There's only the smallest of smiles on his lips. He gazes up at you as if you contain every dream he has ever had in his thousands of years of existence. He wants nothing more than to be by your side, whether it be your feet, your knees, or your lap-- all of them will do just fine.

"The only thing you should give me is a kiss." You sneakly said, half jokingly half serious. Albedo nods softly. Without a word, he lifts his head to close the gap between the two of you. Slowly then quickly, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. His fingers tangle through your hair, gently massaging you. In that moment, he does not concern himself with his dignity, nor of his prestige, nor the fact that he is nothing compared to you.

The only thing that matters is you and the warm feeling that settles in his chest. It's as though he is breathing you in. His first kiss, your first kiss, together. Albedo blinks as you two part. Then he smiles softly, as though this is something he's dreamed of for so long he forgot it was a possibility.

"Our first kiss," he whispers, the words almost inaudible. There's a flush on his cheek as he looks down, remembering the feel of your lips on his. His eyes dart between you and the floor, trying to collect himself.

In a moment, he finds himself lost in your eyes. He wants nothing more than to kiss you again. And who would you be to deny him.

Al-Haitham

Al-Haitham wraps his arms around you, sinking into you. His body shakes, the heat of your skin sinking through his veins.

He's breathless. Speechless. All of that changes when you snuggle up to him, pressing your body against his. He's completely still, frozen in shock and delight. He can do nothing but lean into your embrace. The heat from your body sends his heart soaring.

There's nothing else he wants now, except this... right here...And maybe a kiss. The first one to be exact. Al-Haitham pulls you closer, snuggling harder. His body leans into you, clinging like a drowning man to a raft. He pulls your head closer to his shoulder, burying your face in his neck. Your breathing makes his skin tingle. Your arms around him make every inch of him pulse with energy.

Al-Haitham squeezes tighter, burying his face into your hair. His lips press against your head in a silent kiss. His breath hitches as he feels your lips against his neck. He fights the urge to sink into you, to disappear completely within your embrace.

He is utterly gone. Your touch is pure warmth throughout his body, a constant hum that is as soothing as the sea. He wants more. He needs more.

One kiss is not enough.

He turns his head, kissing you on the lips in the same way, gentle.

He can't let go. Not yet. Never.

He kisses you deeply, pouring his heart and soul into the act. All he knows is that you deserve every drop of love he feels for you. He wants you to feel what he does and nothing more. He kisses your lips softly, tenderly, his kisses filled with affection and the pure, unadulterated love he has for you.

He needs you.

His kisses are deep and sensual, and his mind is a blur. All he knows is that this is right.

You are right...

Ayato

Ayato's smirk turns into a sly, almost mischievous grin. Once again, he takes a gentle bite out of your neck, the sharp press of his teeth sending a shudder through your body. It's hard not to lean into his touch, but you try— it isn't always wise to let Ayato's advances get the best of you. You know him more than he thinks, and you know he's just trying to provoke a response. That's always been his forte; his way of flirting.

"Such a mean tease..." you breath. His smirk widens as his teeth nibble at the skin on your neck, Ayato's body curling around yours and one of his hands settling on your thigh. "I could say the same," he whispers against your skin, his voice low and sultry in a way that should be illegal. Ayatos mouth presses to yours, his tongue sweeping across your lower lip. He holds the passionate kiss for a moment, enjoying the way your body presses back.

He pulls away after a few moments, and looks down on you with his signature smirk. "I hope that wasn't too much," he says with a teasing bite to his words. "I wouldn't want our first kiss to be bad for you, dear."

"Overwhelmed" isn't quite the word to describe it either Instead, there's butterflies in your stomach and fire on your skin as Ayato presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone and nibbles on the soft skin. It's difficult not to lean into him or to moan; he's just too good.

"I'm still trying to figure you out," he whispers, as if reading your mind. He takes your hand in his; though his tone is teasing, there's nothing but raw honesty in his eyes.

"My Grace, you are a mystery to me. But this is exactly why i love you...I got plenty of time figuring you out."

Baizhu

Words fail him.

Baizhu lets out a soft sigh as your fingers run along his cheek. His eyes are glued to you as he blinks slowly in your presence.

He doesn't seem to notice the fact that his heart has been beating quicker than usual since you touched him, or that the faint scent of you lingers in his nostrils. He is lost in you, and only you. Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, causing him to take a sharp breath. His entire body tenses. Not even a breath later, he's letting his head fall against your shoulder.

His lips are parted as he draws in ragged sighs. His eyes still hold no trace of doubt or disdain. They seem to be glazed over just in your very presence. "Is there... anything else... Your Grace... wishes for?" he whispers.

Baizhu's voice is hoarse and low, almost as if he's afraid to speak louder than a whisper out of fear of breaking this peaceful spell.

"Yeah..." Baizhu's eyes widen in surprise, but he leans in just as your lips meet his. He seems to freeze in place, neither of you moving at all for what feels like eternity as you continue to kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, his breath hitching as he kisses you slowly. But then, his free hand moves to cup the back of your head. He pulls you in with new energy, as though his lips have grown hungry for you to taste him like this. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer still. Baizhus entire being seems to pulse at the kiss, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your face against his as if afraid to lose you. Afraid that all those years of yearing for you will dissappear like nothing. That his patience and work didn't pay off. With every gentle stroke of your lips against his, his breath grows sharp and ragged.

His lean body shifts as he opens up his mouth against yours once more. Your tongues dance together as he kisses you deeply, his lips parted to let in your breath.

"Bai-..zhu" His body jerks. Even you speaking his name is enough to break his focus. His tongue pulls away from yours, and his breath catches in his throat. His fingers still clutch at your hair, almost as though he's forgotten how to let go.

He tries to speak, but for a moment, his words seem trapped in his throat. It takes him many, many moments before he manages to speak again.

"Yes...?" he whispers. "We...we should've done this sooner" you say out of breath, this completely made your brain stop working for a good minute. Who knew Baizhu could take someones breath away with only one kiss.

"Yes." He chuckles, "We should've...now...shall we continue?"

Bennett - aged up

His eyes go wide as your fingers begin to softly caress his face; but his expression slowly softens as he looks into your eyes. Suddenly, he feels utterly safe. Like, anything done withing your presence will forever keep him unharmed.

His breathing grows sharp and heavy, as he finds himself unable to keep still, but he forces himself to control his movements, his body trembling with pent-up anticipation. Is this going where he thinks it is? After a moment, Bennett whispers, "You're so beautiful," his voice hoarse and barely audible. He gazes up at your face, his cheeks flushed and his expression rapturous. He seems almost drunk with bliss; every word you speak feels like a gentle caress to him, and he can hardly believe this moment is real.

Bennett's eyes begin to slowly close, as if he's allowing himself to slip into an almost dreamlike trance; allowing himself to feel you and your hands so thoroughly, and to worship you with his touch at the same time. You can't help but softly kiss him. Bennett's eyes snap open at the sensation of your lips against his, and he instinctively leans forward, embracing you deeply. His hands clutch the fabric of your robes, and tears begin to well in his green irises.

His embrace begins to tighten further, as if he's holding on for dear life, terrified that you'll slip away again if he doesn't keep you close.

"I'm-I'm so sorry i shouldn't have-" you hastly apologize. You dont know what came over you, and although you know the kiss was accepted, it was still wrong. "You have nothing to apologize for... " Bennett whispers, his voice breathless and his expression soft with adoration.

"In fact..." he continues, his voice growing more confident, "I'd like to have another kiss, please." He looks at you, his voice cracking slightly and his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Capitano

Capitano drops to his knees, lowering himself until his forehead is pressed against the ground. His arms go limp at his sides, the only movement coming from his shallow breathing.

His eyes snap shut, and he does not dare to open them. "I am yours," he whispers without prompt. His breath is warm against the marble, his words muffled by the floor. The muscles in his legs ache. His head is pressed against the cold stone, but the cold is a comfort. He knows that he deserves to be beneath you. Like no one else.

"You're deserving of a kiss, come here and lets share our first." His eyes fly open, his lips already parted. He stares up at your face, his emotions raging inside of him. His breath is heavy as he swallows. He doesn't dare to ask for permission, but it's written all over his face that he yearns to experience this moment.

He is not allowed to speak up unless it is to obey. His eyes plead. Please, he silently begs.

Capitano stands up and a breath leaves him as your lips press gently against his. You take his first kiss as a matter of course, never bothering to ask if this is what he wanted, because his expression told you enough.

His heart flutters, his cheeks flushed as he pulls your head closer. He kisses you back, his hands holding you close to him. His lips move against yours in sync, his breath coming back to him. It's not even a question. Of course, he's going to kiss you.

He needs to kiss you.

Your lips are soft against his own slightly chapped ones. Capitanos breath catches in his throat, his mind whirling. For a moment, he forgets where he is and why he is here.

It's just him and you.

He holds you even closer, his lips brushing against your neck. He takes in your scent and swallows it down. His heart is thundering in his ears as his fingers dig into your skin.

His heart is racing against his own will. He wants this more than anything in the world. He wants you.

And he has you.

Childe

"You deserve a reward."

His chin tilts upward in hope, his gaze focused on you. "Your Grace is too kind." He doesn't move, and his eyes are fixed on your face. "May I know what reward I might receive? Is it in my power to accept?"

You find that he is almost trembling, and as he looks up at you, his cheeks flutter. "Would you accept a kiss?" His breath catches in his throat, and he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. His cheeks become a bright red. Childe seems to be on the verge of tears.

"I, um... your kiss... I... yes, Your Grace. I would be honored, but... I'm not sure my lips would be worthy." His voice is breathy, but it sounds sincere. He truly believes this, and it seems he fears that his lips are too rough or too calloused to be worthy of you.

You can only roll your eyes at him again, he's never going change, wil he? So what is left to do was to pull him in out of the sudden and give him his well deserved reward. Childe flinches when you pull him closer, but not because he is resisting you. Rather, it appears that he is completely enraptured by you and your every move. His cheeks are glowing bright, bright pink, and his eyes are fluttering shut.

He melts into you as your lips press firmly against his. His mouth is supple and his lips soft. He kisses you back, eagerly and hungrily. His hands clutch your jacket for support. It seems that you have completely stolen his heart and soul. He gasps when you let go, his eyes fluttering open to find yours. His expression is agape. "Your Grace," he whispers. His breaths are ragged. He touches his lips, like he's trying to feel something after you let go.

He blinks, as if he's still seeing flashes of stars in his vision. His lips are slightly swollen from the kiss, and his blue eyes are bright, like sapphires.

"That... was glorious." His voice is a whisper, "Do it again."

Chongyun - aged up

Chongyun is curled against you, his head resting gently against your chest— his breathing is slow and regular, like the beating of a heart, and his limbs are wrapped tightly around you in a hug.

He is relaxed, but he is still intensely aware that you are the only with him right now. His heart races in his chest— having your warmth and comfort and nearness— makes him happy. Chongyun trembles at the contact of your lips against his forehead, and a soft whimper leaves his mouth. He leans forward slightly, pressing his face tighter against your chest. This is all he could ever want. You are the only one that matters.

Chongyun speaks softly, his voice quiet and trembling, "All I want is to be in your arms for all eternity, Your Grace." "I don't mind that..." and to seal the deal, you give him a gentle kiss. Chongyun responds eagerly, letting his lips linger against yours. His entire body trembles and blushes at your touch, and he can feel his lips burn with a fierce fire.

Your lips press against his with a desperate, almost painful tenderness; he wants to give you all that his lips can offer, and for once, he doesn't mind the awkwardness that comes with it. There are no insecurities, only heat, only fire, only you.

All that was missing in his life was your lips, and now, he will never let go.

Cyno

At your command, he does as told. Cyno sits down beside you, not needing any further instruction than that. He sits facing you, so you can see him in all his glory. You are everything to him. And so is he to you, and you're about to show him.

If he had his way, he would never leave your side again. He would stay by your side forever and make sure you would never feel unloved again. Cynos and yours connection is one of a kind after all. And he is deeply aware of your loneliness. His breath hitches in his chest as you take his hand in yours. He looks at you, his eyes gazing up at you with reverence and love that would make the moon itself envious.

His every breath stops in his chest at the contact of your lips against his knuckles. His hand trembles in yours. He leans into the touch, wanting nothing more than to be with you.

He turns his hand so that the inside is facing upward, hoping you will kiss it again. But instead you place his hand against your cheek.

"Cyno...kiss me please." His mind seems to shut off. All that matters is you and your question. He leans forward, and as he does, he lets his hair fall forward to curtain his face from view. Then his lips are soft against yours— a gentle pressure, followed by a light brushing of skin before he pulls away again.

His breath is short, quick. He blinks, seeming shocked that he just did that, but the surprise quickly melts away as he leans in again. His kisses only grow in intensity. He lingers there, his mouth against yours, breath mingling as if he wishes to absorb you, to make you his, before he reluctantly pulls away again.

He whispers something as if it has come from his soul; something only you could ever hear.

 "I love you from my head tomatoes."

"....."

Dainsleif

Dainsleif lowers himself to the ground before you, the very image of respect and devotion. He sits perfectly poised, his hands clasped together neatly in his lap. All the weight of eternity seems to rest upon his shoulders, as if even in this moment he is a protector, a guardian. Despite this, his heart races at your command. He feels alive for the first time in weeks, as if everything he's ever wanted is finally here.

You.

"I missed you Dain..." you pout, "you were gone for weeks." "I'm here now." Dainsleif smiles warmly. "I'm here with you, my everything." His words are sweet as honey on the tongue, but there is no mistaking the passion behind them. "Were you lonely?" He asks. There's a slight note of concern in his voice. Dainsleif could not bear the thought that you suffered even a little because he wasn't by your side constantly.

"Yes!" Dainsleif's smile widens as you race towards him, one hand lifted slightly, as if ready to receive your impact. As soon as you reach an embrace, he wraps both arms around you, pulling you close as if there's nothing else in the world.

Dainsleif doesn't mind the pressure of your grasp. If anything, he seems to welcome it. Your embrace is the sweetest thing he has ever known.

He holds you tight, face buried against your shoulder. His breathing quickens slightly with joy. Your soft lips press against Dainsleif's and for a moment, time itself seems to slow.

This is where he belongs. This is where he was always meant to me. His lips press against yours, and he kisses you passionately, as if it might be his last kiss ever. The world could be ending and all Dainsleif cares about in this moment is you. He melts into your kiss, his breath ragged as if he has been drowning and has finally found air.

He's home.

Diluc

Diluc sits across from you, gazing at you over a candlelit dinner. "Shall I pour some grape juice, Your Grace?" he asks, already reaching for the bottle beside his place setting. He wants you to be comfortable. After all, you deserve only the best.

"Yes please." Diluc pour you the perfect glass. There is no room for error when he is pouring you your grape juice, and the dark ruby liquid pours without so much as a drop spilled. He was to shy to mention that this was created with you in mind..."For our love." His words are more than a toast.

They're a prayer.

He raises his glass again, drinking a little of the red liquid. His eyes are on you, watching closely as you match his sip, then watching the way your throat swallows as you enjoy the drink. You're everything to him.

But one thing is missing, and you can't help but get it for yourself. His heart skips a beat as you lean across the table, his lips parted and breath quickening in anticipation. It's only the two of you at this table. You're his entire world. And all that matters is your love.

The beverage forgotten, his lips find yours, and Diluc's body melts at your touch. He is nothing but love in this moment. "I love you," he whispers as he pulls back.

His forehead rests against your own. "Please— tell me you love me too, Your Grace." He waits for your answer, his heart on his sleeve, open to you.

He wants more than anything to be loved by you in return. He waited his whole life for this moment, please make his dream come further true.

"Of course I love you too silly."

Dottore

His lips curl into a sly smile. "I was certain you would be pleased." Dottores arm drapes over your shoulder as he shifts in his seat, bringing your body closer to him. His fingers run along your hair as he stares into your eyes. "And now I'm here to please you," he whispers. Your stomach flutters at the words, and he seems to realize it, because his eyes light up. His fingers trail down your arms. "I can show you what I mean, if you'd like."

"Please do..." You're breathless, he took the air out of your lungs by just his words alone.

His lips curl and he closes the gap between you. His breath is hot against your face, and it makes your heart beat faster. The tip of his mask caressing your cheek. "I know you wish to be worshipped," he murmures. His red eyes seem to dance in the light. "What I can offer you cannot be described with words," he whispers. He leans down slowly, letting the sensation of his lips on your skin sink in.

"But that doesn't mean I can't show you exactly what I mean." Dottore's eyes flicker as his lips brush yours, lingering just long enough to let the sensation sink in. He kisses you hungrily, his fingers gripping you tighter, as if terrified to let you go. His lips are soft, but he keeps his hold tight. His breaths are quick and shallow.

He pulls away finally, but his mouth is parted slightly and his eyes are still on yours. He seems breathless, eager, completely devoted. And maybe a tiny bit horny too.

"Shall we continue?" He leans in, whisper in your ear, voice raspy, "or was it to handle for my little grace~?" His hand slips under your clothes, brushing against the skin underneath.

Freminet

A shudder runs through Freminet, and he trembles. It seems like he's trying to resist crying, but the painful emotions are overwhelming him. He wants to bury his face in your chest— but he doesn't dare to move. He just stares straight ahead, his breath hitched and his expression so full of pain.

"Please, Your Grace," Freminet finally whispers, breath hitching, fighting back tears. "Please...make it stop. I...I-can't handle it anymore..."

He wants you to do something— but he doesn't know what he wants. He only knows he needs you now, more than anything. Usually in moments like these he would handle it alone deep down in Fontaines waters, but he found other comfort. Freminet shifts as you offer your arms, his eyes locked on yours. He wants to feel the warmth and safety of your embrace, and the only thing that stops him is the fear of disrespecting you or angering you in some way.

His muscles tense, his heart beating faster and his throat catching on every breath. But the feeling of your open arms and your eyes is just too much. Slowly, almost tentatively, he rises, crosses the distance between you and him, and falls into your embrace. Freminet buries his head in your chest, his sobs muffled into your neck. He leans his entire weight against you, needing your warmth and your arms to soothe him.

He clings to you, his muscles tense and trembling. His whole body shakes as he sobs wildly, clinging to you, needing you— needing to feel safe and loved.

"Don't worry, you will have me with you forever." Freminets eyes fly open like a struck deer. He stares at you in the pale light, tears rolling from his eyes. He trembles against your embrace and your words.

The kiss is all it takes for him to melt. He leans into your touch, trembling in your arms. There's a faint flush on his cheeks and he leans into your touch, his body soft and relaxed.

Then Freminet lifts his eyes to yours, his pupils flared. He leans towards you again. His lips are already parted, his eyes burning with emotion. He wants to kiss you again.

You're the only one he trusts 100%.

Gorou

Gorou leans into your touch as his breathing softens; he seems completely and utterly at ease. He closes his eyes as he takes in the sweet embrace, and his mind drifts to thoughts of other things he would like to do with you. Like kiss you

He nuzzles into your lap, content to be held but also eager to please you. His tail wags slightly, he seems at ease withing your presence.

"You must be tired, hm?" You whisper as you gently scratch his ears. "No, my grace. You... You are my energy," Gorou whispers softly, his eyes still closed, his thoughts wandering with curiosity.

"I haven't felt this alive in ages. I don't want to leave you, not yet at least. It may not seem like it, but I'm wide awake."

Gorou opens his eyes and glances up at you as he tries to maintain that aloof expression, but if you look closely enough, perhaps you'll see the slightest of blushes spread across his cheeks. Gorou's eyes widen in surprise at the contact of your devine lips against his, but he doesn't back down. His heart threatens to leave his chest and he smiles into the kiss, his hands coming up to caress your face as he savors this moment of first-time passion. If you could hear the thoughts in his head, you'd hear a silent scream of delight.

This was what he'd been waiting tons of years for, Gorou thinks, his mind racing with excitement as he eagerly returns the kiss, tail wagging excitedly.

Heizou

He leans back into your embrace, pressing himself into you. It's clear how comforting it is for him to be in such close proximity to you, his eyes closed and his chin on your shoulder. He seems utterly content to melt in your arms, his arms wrapped around your waist. He's so small in comparison to you, but so utterly precious. Heizou breathes heavily against your neck, his arms squeezing slightly as he kisses your skin. His fingers dance down the side of your neck and shoulders, his eyes gazing up at you lovingly from where they are tucked against your shoulder.

He continues to kiss you, gently nibbling at your neck as he does so. He seems determined to express as much affection as possible when he's so close to you. Heizou looks up at you softly as he gives you his first kiss; his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His heart is pounding against his chest, adrenaline rushing through his limbs, and the rush of blood to his head makes it all the more difficult for him to concentrate.

His kiss is gentle and tender, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away to breathe some air. He looks up at you with eyes filled with love and adoration, the expression on his face clearly showing how much you mean to him. Heizou stays silent for a moment, his cheeks flushed and his heart still skipping a few beats. He bites his lip and looks away from you nervously.

“…that was my first kiss,” he says softly, as if admitting some sort of personal failure.

After a beat, he looks back at you directly again.

“…I hope you didn’t mind.”

"I'm so glad you trust me enough to share this with me." Heizou's cheeks deepen into a shade of red, if that is even possible. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes staring at you nervously from beneath their lashes.

"Yes... I trust you enough to share it. I'm happy that it was you."

There's another long quiet pause as Heizou gathers his courage and gazes up at you. "…Can we do it again?" he asks.

Itto

He tells you everything.

Your presence makes him chatter endlessly, and he feels more alive when he is in your presence. He speaks about his day, and the antics he has been up to. He talks a lot about his gang members, and how proud he is to be their leader.

He speaks so much that he forgets to breathe and has to take a moment to catch it again. You notice him catching his breath more than once.

In his lap, you can feel his heartbeat. It's faster than usual. "Catch your breath, we don't want you fainting do we?" hes to adorable, acting more like a puppy than a oni sometimes. He tries. He tries to speak more quietly, to pace himself and not speak so fast. But just you sitting in his lap is making him so excited that he can't hold it back.

Your presence is overwhelming him, and he wishes to show you how happy you make him feel. Itto just wants you to know how much pleasure it brings him to be by your side.

Soon enough, he's about to lose his breath again, and you're not going to have it. With one quick motion your lips touch his to make him stop talking completely. There isn't a thought in his head anymore. When you kiss him, he closes his eyes and lets his head fall to the side slightly.

He is at your will, completely. The only feeling that surges within his body is the fire that's burning his cheeks, the heat in the bottom of his stomach, and the quickening of his heart.

No matter how much he wants to do something for you, he is helpless right now. Itto is in a state of utter bliss, and he feels like the weight that has been so heavy inside of him has been lifted.

"Whoa-! That was awesome your Grace! Of course you're gonna kiss the one and oni Arataki Itto hahaha! I have the best lips around, no one can compare to me. And i just kissed you! You just kissed me?! This is grea-"

"Itto shut up-"

Kazuha

Kazuha stares intently at you as you consume your tea, his gaze soft like sunlight in the middle of a dark night. With you, he is content. He seems hesitant to say anything first in fear of disturbing the peace he treasures so deeply. Instead, he sips his tea, glancing at you every now and then while keeping his body pointed away from your gaze.

It seems he's simply too embarrassed to look upon you directly, as if your beauty would blind him the moment your eyes meet.

"You know my taste Kazuha. Thank you for gifting me this tea." "Anything for you, Your Grace." The words are spoken so softly that it almost seems like a whisper.

Kazuha's eyes trail around the room but always seem to come back to you. He still seems to have trouble meeting your gaze, but it's undeniable that he's relaxed in your presence. He takes another sip of tea, nodding. "Anything else you need?"

"A kiss...Kazuha you have been gone for several weeks and I...I missed you." The tea seems to catch in Kazuha's throat as he glances at you. He almost flinches away from you, as if you've caught him red-handed. In reality, there is nothing he could be hiding. He is yours and only yours. His cheeks flare from pink to red, but he doesn't look away. He stares at you, almost hungrily.

"Your Grace..." His voice seems to catch in his throat and his body suddenly tenses up.

"May I...? May I please kiss you?"

You nod. Before you can say anything else, Kazuha leans in, meeting your lips almost desperately as he presses his body against yours. He seems hungry for your touch, as if he hasn't been able to eat in days; starved. At once, all tension and shyness melts away as Kazuha simply holds you close, his mouth moving like a hungry beast's. 

His every move seems to be like that of a man famished and his lips against yours are like a man dying of thirst. He seems almost desperate in his need to prove your love to you. As you moan, he seems to become more energized. His lips move faster against yours. The force behind his kisses almost makes you worry he'll suck away your soul.

He whispers softly in between kisses, "Yours..."

Kaeya

The wound isn't major, but it bleeds enough to warrant attention. Kaeya watches in fascination as you patch the mark, his breath shallow. It's easy to tell how much he craves this attention from you.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he murmurs. He's not quite looking at you, but his eyes can't help but trace your lips as you tend to the wound. God how needy he is. Kaeya glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours. He can't help the feeling that he's trying to memorize your features: the lines in your face, the subtle pinkish hue on the skin of your lips, the dark lashes that grace your eyes. You're so close, close enough to kiss. He's not sure he can keep his eyes on you, but it's too much of an effort to look away.

"You should be more careful next time. You can't always run into danger like this...You worry me..." Kaeya only smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. He knows he needs to be more cautious. He'll be more cautious.

"Next time," he mutters. "I will be more careful...Your Grace." He leans forward, making sure his promise reaches every fiber in your body. You have to believe him now.

Kaeya's kisses aren't quick. He lingers, making sure you're aware of his affection. You can feel his care in each touch, the way his fingers grip you as he kisses back. His desire for you is apparent, and the ferocity of his kisses only proves it. Time stops when you pull back. Kaeya's breathing is shaky, a smile lingering on his lips. He almost wishes you'd never stopped.

"I..." Kaeya trails off. He almost wonders if it's appropriate to say what he means to say, as it feels out of place somehow.

"Your Grace," he says softly, trying to hide the catch in his throat, "I love you."

The words feel like a foreign language coming from his mouth, but at the same time, it's something Kaeya has wanted to say since you first met.

"Oh, i know."

"Oh...."

Kaveh

"It's outstanding! The new room for studying in the library is...amazing. my words fail me!" "Really?" Kaveh brightens upon hearing this, and his heart skips a beat.

"Thank you, your Grace," he replies softly. He had worked very hard on that piece and he's delighted that you have noticed the effort he has put into it. "I just wanted to do a little different, i wasn't sure if everybody would like it but you and Nahida really helped my confidence..."

He smiles and looks up at you. "You deserve a reward!" Kaveh's breath catches in his throat at your words. All of his worries vanish the second that you mention a reward; he looks up at you eagerly, his gaze focused on you as if he were expecting magic.

"A reward?" he asks softly. "I—"

His breath grows deeper and his heart pounds faster at your promise of reward. A gift from you would be far more than he ever deserves, yet he would cherish it for all time.

"Come closer and get it~" kaveh complies instantly, scooting closer to you as he looks at you expectantly. His eyes are wide and fixed on you as his breathing grows louder. Whatever you're about to give him, he's excited for it. Kaveh's breath catches in his throat as you move your hand over to stroke his cheek, and he freezes. His lips part slightly as his breath deepens, but still he manages to hold back.

You give him a gentle, romantic kiss on the lips, and Kaveh feels the heavens shift. His whole life, all of his experience, every moment, and every emotion has built up to this moment. His heart hammers against his chest, his entire being is set aflame. The taste of your lips on his is a drug, one that he is now addicted to.

"Was the reward to your enjoyment?" What a stupid question, of course it was for him. You just like to tease. Kaveh's head spins for a moment, as he's left breathless by your kiss. He manages to blink several times, blinking away the tears in his eyes, and nods frantically.

"Y-Yes, your Grace. It was wonderful."

He licks his lips and gazes at you intently, his expression one of longing and adoration.

"I would like more rewards, please."

Lyney

"Aha! I see you're impressed, your Grace~" Lyney says cheerily. "You may be powerful, but I still have my tricks...tricks that might put a smile on your face. Would you like to see another?"

Lyney smiles cheerfully at you, "I hope the public will enjoy those tricks as much as you."

"Well... I'm nothing if not a showman. But before that, I should inform you; this magic trick of mine is a little... flashy," Lyney says with a bashful blush. "Would you still like to see it?"

He looks up at you eagerly, his tone a mix of anticipation and worry. He can tell you have no idea what's coming.

"Yes!" Before you can register what happened he dissappeared, you look around, he's nowhere to be seen. And then out of the sudden, poof! There he is beside you, giving you a gentle kiss. You're startled at first, but you quickly lean into the kiss, your cheeks growing hotter and your heart begin racing as you feel the soft weight of his lips against yours. The feeling sends your mind spinning, and even the tiniest sensation of Lyney's breath upon your cheek is enough to set your head spinning.

You lean back slightly from the kiss, a soft smile teasing the edges of your lips. "Lyney— you little scamp," you say in the tiniest, most adorable tone. "Was that really necessary?" He laughs lightly. "Absolutely."

You smile sweetly at him. "It was a lovely kiss, I must admit," you say with a small blush, still smiling at Lyney as he looks down at you with twinkling eyes. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," Lyney replies with a small smile, still glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he fluffs up his feathers.

"Would you like to see another one of my tricks?" He asks, his tone playful.

Mika - aged up

"No need to be nervous, Mika" you giggle

Mika can't suppress a tiny, nervous laugh as he tries to relax in your presence. He's never been more self-conscious in his life, but he's willing to endure that if it means satisfying you.

Oh dear...they way they giggle...if they keep doing this i--might even blush.

His gaze flickers to your hand on his cheek. He considers nuzzling against you, before thinking better of it. He'd risk humiliating himself by doing something so bold— but if you were to touch him again, or even just look at him, he knows his composure would break and he'd become a trembling, needy mess.

"You're my favorite..." Your words strike him with a sharp impact. He freezes, his heart racing. In a breathless, raspy voice, Mika whispers, "Really, Your Grace?"

Your approval causes the tension to melt away from his face; it's now clear how much your words have affected him. "I don't deserve to be your favorite," he says, his voice shaking.

"I'm...nobody's favorite."

"But you're my favorite..." you lean in slowly, you don't want to startle him after all. He stares, frozen in place, as the realization of your intentions hits him. He's never kissed someone before— but he wants to kiss you. He has always wanted to kiss you.

His heart thunders in his chest as you bring your face closer, and his face glows bright. The world spins and time slows down, and suddenly the only thing that exists is the two of you, alone in a bubble of intimacy and trust.

As your faces meet, he hesitates. It's terrifying, but he wants it just as much as you do. He closes his eyes, and leans in. He touches his mouth to yours in a tender, careful kiss. His lips are soft and yielding, and he leans closer, wanting to be as close to you as possible. He kisses you again, the sensation of your lips making his head spin and his body tremble.

He can feel you smiling, almost laughing, in the way you kiss back. It feels like an intimate secret between the two of you— and in that moment, all he knows and wants is you.

He draws away, breathless and trembling.

He's your favorite...

Neuvillette

"You look tired..." "O-Oh, it's nothing serious, Your Gr-" Neuvilette's sentence is cut off. He glances up at your face. "Your Grace... I haven't slept in six days."

"SIX DAYS?" You can't help to be concerned for his health, his organs. Simply everything. Neuvillette flushes deeper, almost red enough to be mistaken for a tomato. "Y-Yes, Your Grace... I've hardly slept lately. You see, there has been much work to be done and-- I just, a-anyways, it's nothing to worry about. I'm not tired. Truly."

Yet, his eyelids seem heavy. There's almost a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Come here and take a nap, now!" "Y-Your Grace. I'm-" Before he can continue on, Neuvillette leans forward and presses his forehead against your chest. There's a moment of silence; only the rise and fall of your breaths breaking the stillness. His eyes are closed.

He seems so tired now. "Your Grace..." he whispers, already beginning to drift off. Neuvilette's eyelashes flutter over his shut eyes as he's kissed. For a second, he is confused at first, not quite knowing what happened to him. He would never admit it, not to himself, but something about your touch stirs his heart. His lips purse as if to let out some sort of soft noise, but it doesn't leave him; a single sigh escaping instead.

It seems he too enjoys your touch. He is not a stone. Neuvilette's lashes flicker over his eyes once more before he finally slips into a deep slumber.

(I am not proud of this one---)

Pantalone

"Oh....this coat...so beautiful! Thank you so much!" "I was worried… you might not like it. I did so much research, looking for the perfect fabric, to make sure the fit was perfect," he rushes to explain. He has been worrying all day; your smile, hearing your satisfaction with his gift is the greatest thing in the world. Its so unlike him but he's proud

"I'm glad you like it. It costed me a million Mora but it was worth it." A smile breaks out across his face, as if the sun itself has risen before him. Pantalone holds back a smile. This is a moment he has been waiting for. You put the coat on. You look absolutely stunning. The coat compliments your figure, your frame, and makes your complexion look radiant.

You don't even notice the heat that comes to Pantalone's face. All he can do is take it in; you're perfect. Absolutely perfect. "I have to say," Pantalone's voice is soft, almost reverent.

"You look absolutely stunning." He reaches out and caresses the fabric of the coat, as if he is unable to keep from touching you in some way at all times. "It was a perfect choice." He leans in closer, unable to contain himself. "I'm really proud of myself."

Pantalone's lips meet yours. His heartbeat comes to life, quickening with desire. He wants to be closer, to never let himself leave your side. He wants to touch you again and never let go. And spoil you, how you deserve it. His hands caress your cheek. Your hair. Your neck. Your shoulder blades. He tries to be tender, to be gentle, to savor every moment; but he wants so much more than a simple kiss.

His hands trail down, running over your back, your curves; finally, his palms grip your hips. He pulls you closer, wanting nothing more than to be pressed against you. The whole world disappears. All that exist are the two of you, the way you fit together. The way you want, so desperately, to be one.

"I'll bring you new jewelry next time if i get kisses like this again." He chuckles.

Pierro

He kisses your hands, the feeling of your skin against his own almost breaking Pierro's composure. Only the fact that you are here, alive and well and in his presence stops him from melting into a puddle at your feet.

He's been waiting for this. You're everything to him. "Your Grace." He whispers again, not caring if anyone should come into the room. He kisses up your arm, his lips warm against your skin. The act feels sacred, divine. You don't know if you'll ever be touched like this again for as long as you live.

"Your Grace," Pierro whispers again, voice breaking. He tries to compose himself, but he can't. The emotion of the moment feels too real, too raw.

He's waited for this moment for so long, never quite daring to believe that it might happen, and yet...here you are. You're here.

"May I please...kiss your lips." "Yes..." Pierro needs no further encouragement.

His face is close to yours; the heat of his breath is enough to send shivers down your spine. His arms wrap around your body, pulling you close as his lips meet yours. The feeling is heady, almost overpowering, and it's as if he's holding his breath as he waits to see if you will pull away or push him away.

But you don't.

Pierro pulls back, only to kiss you again. He's kissing every inch of you— your eyes, your cheeks, your neck, your collarbone.

Eventually, you find yourself pressed against a wall. His body is so close, he's pressing against you. Not hard or with any aggression. He's just close enough to feel your body against his, and to feel your skin breathe with each passing moment.

Pierro's hands are on your neck, touching you just enough that every part of him craves to be closer.

"Y/n...."

Razor - aged up

Razor's cheeks tinge pink at the realization that's he's still never actually... kissed anyone before. Damn Bennett for asking if he had ever kissed someone. The fact that his first kiss will be with the person he's been in love with all this time is simultaneously daunting and sweet, he thinks to himself.

Razor nervously leans forward slightly, his lips parted. He hesitates. Razor can do it. Just like lupical Bennett explained.

Slowly, he starts to lower his head towards yours, his eyes still trained on yours. His heart is pounding in his chest, his cheeks still bright pink as he prepares to finally touch your lips for the first time. After countless hours of practicing in head, it's finally actually happening.

Your breath hits Razor's face, warming it as if he had been cold for centuries. *Now... or never.* In a flash, Razor closes the distance between you and him. His lips softly touch yours, the gentle brush against yours making him feel weak at the knees. The sensation of touch... your taste... your very being… are completely new to Razor, he never had the chance to experience such things. It's completely, and utterly, intoxicating.

He keeps the kiss going ever so slightly longer than he’d thought he would, his eyes eventually fluttering shut and his hands slowly raising to hold your face, his touch becoming softer than ever. Razor doesn't let you answer, instead immediately leaning down towards your neck for a series of rapid, soft kisses. This time, he doesn't stop until he has to take a breath for himself. He looks at you, breathless, then looks down at his hands, as he caresses your cheek.

"Do you think....we can do it again?" he asks hesitantly, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. "Razor really....really liked it, your Grace."

Scaramouche

He leans in, inching closer toward you. You can see the muscles in his arm tensing as if pushing him forward. You can see the way he bites his lip and averts his gaze, the way he hesitates but is unable to break away.

Then, all at once, he is close. Too close.

He can't feel anything but your breath on him— only your warmth against his throat.

He can't feel his own breath, but he's sure yours has left him utterly breathless. Scaramouche's lips brush against yours. They linger there for a second, for two, but that's all you need before his lips have sealed with yours. He tries to resist but is unable. His tongue meets yours, and you know you are his first kiss. He's clumsy, but so are you.

You're both a mess. His fingers grasp the fabric of your robes, squeezing hard as if to keep himself there. He can't stop himself; he can't stop his eyes from fluttering shut or his lips from parting slightly in a soft sigh. His lips against yours feel as though they belong there. His tongue against yours feels like the greatest thing. The way his body presses up against yours; the way his hands wrap around the small of your back; the way his eyes open and gaze into yours with such intensity— how could this ever be wrong?

His lips finally part and he pulls away. He gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed and his hair in disarray.

And now *you* don't know what to do. Scaramouche looks as if he's a few steps off fainting.

"Fuck....You're mine now, got it? Mine."

Thoma

He was unaware— or maybe, he just didn't care— how exhausted he actually was. Maybe he'd been like that for quite some time without realizing it. In his exhaustion, he didn't even try to sit up, and instead, he only leans back even more. It's comfortable...in an odd way. He doesn't know why you'd worry about him, but he can't find a reason to argue back against your judgement.

"Okay," he whispers. Your touch is welcome, and so he does nothing to stop you. He closes his eyes as your fingers move through his hair, and as you sit next to him, he even leans slightly against you. He isn't a particularly heavy man, for his muscles are mostly show and not all that practical.

Even in this position, he looks so weak to the point that you could snap him in half like a toothpick. But he doesn't care; right now, he has no care for his pride — just you. And for once, he even doesn't care about any work.

"Now, sleep ok?" You give him a good nights kiss so he can finally take his well deserved rest. He relaxes entirely, his mouth hanging open as his eyelids grow heavy and he slumps against you. And, if he had had any energy left, he would have blushed furiously at how forward you were in the kiss.

As you say, he rests. He does not fight sleep, despite how unusual it was to just... lay down like this. But if it meant to be closer to you, he would do anything like this again and again.

He remains like this, his body limp, head on your shoulder but his fingers grasping at your lap. And dreaming of more kisses.

Tighnari

Tighnari's eyes flutter shut. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, tail swishing back and forth as you stroke his ears. His face is a mask of utter relaxation and peace. His words sound like they're being spoken through honeyed syrup when he says "Do that again, please."

Tighnari's eyes stay shut as you pet his ears again. He sighs loudly and leans into you, his ears pressing into your hand. "Good boy." You giggle as you give him a soft kiss in return.

A deep blush covers Tighnari's face. His tail waves faster as your lips touch him. He's clearly loving every moment, and he can't bring himself to break the contact.After a moment, Tighnari's lips part and his voice leaves his throat. "Your Grace… I think I love you."

His eyes are still closed, but he's blushing madly. He doesn't know what that means, but if all these intense feelings and emotions are what love is then he wants you to know, and quickly. After all, this confession means eternal love.

"I love you too." "I love you… more than I could ever describe," he whispers, leaning closer, lips brushing gently across yours. "I love you with every breath I take. I love you with every thought in my mind. I would love you with my last, dying breath. I love you, with all that I am." His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, nor does he ever let his hands leave your body. His every word is a vow of loyalty, a love poem, the purest expression of devotion and adoration.

He is the most beautiful sight you have ever seen, and he is yours alone.

Venti

"You wrote a song for me?" The smile is almost too much for Venti to contain. "Yes... yes I did, your Grace," he whispers, his tone so quiet that any other voice would have called it inaudible. "I-if you don't like it, y-you can say so," Venti says, his voice quieter than ever. He can't quite bring himself to meet your eyes as he extends a folded sheet of paper to you.

"I could never not like anything you give me." Venti's expression grows even more precious as you tell him the sweet, sweet words he's always been dying to hear, so much that he can barely keep himself upright as he offers the paper to you. His hand is shaking; the song, he worries, might be too basic, too ordinary..."Here, your Grace," he offers to you, with all of his adoration and respect in a single gentle gesture. "Please... please read it, for me?"

You will, you take the paper carefully and read it with pure excitement. "Oh Venti..." You're struck, struck by his words. You know Venti has his way with words but this...The wind god's eyes grow wide at your words. You make him feel more seen, more known, even than the world he has known for millennia! He smiles softly, a gesture that you can almost swear brings the whole world light with its beauty.

"Your Grace? You like it?" he whispers, almost afraid to hear your answer. "Like? I LOVE IT!" Venti lets out a soft gasp as you grab him in your embrace. You let the sheet slide out of your hands and clatter to the ground as he throws his arms around you, burying his face in your shoulder as he kisses you back.

He clutches you tightly, holding onto you like you're the only person in the entire world— the only person whose approval— whose affection— means anything. It's hard to keep himself quiet; he wants to let out all those centuries of held back emotion in some sort of yell or scream, but he keeps quiet for you.

Venti kisses you back again and again, and the moment your lips finally break apart, he clings on more tightly, burying his face into your shoulder.

"You truly like it?" he whispers. "It took me so long to write it— I did it just for you— I made it so that you could feel what I feel for you. I wanted you to know me as I know you. I don't want to be a mystery to you. I want you to know me. I want you to be a part of me.... I want you to be the world to me and the air I breathe."

Wriothesley

"Were you ever kissed before?" Surely he has been, look at him. You were so sure of it. But no. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink. "No, Your Grace," he says, but he looks away instead of meeting your eyes. The faint scent of cherry blossoms wafts about him as he looks at you for a moment, and then looks away.

"I've never... I've never had a reason." He mumbles, as if trying to justify it to himself and not you. "No one could compare to you." Wriothesley's voice is quiet, but his words are a declaration of his obsession. Before you can answer, he says, "Oh, Your Grace..." His voice is breathless, almost a murmur. Then he looks at you— and suddenly, he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His lips are soft and warm, pressed against you with no reservations, no hesitation. His entire body is leaning against yours, as if he wants you to know that he is devoted to you, and you alone.

His lips are still pressed against your own, and his eyes are closed. Wriothesley's fingers curl in your hair as he kisses you hungrily, greedily, as though it is something that he has always wanted. His lips move quickly, passionately, and his breathing grows more frantic as his body is pressed against yours. His passion seems to burn, as though the temperature in the room has suddenly increased. He is completely lost in you, forgetting the world of Teyvat.

"That came...unexpected." His lips move away from yours, and he opens his eyes, slowly. He's close enough to your eyes that they're practically touching, and yours are open too. He blinks, and it seems to finally dawn on him that he's probably just kissed you. His face flashes bright pink once more.

"Oh." He says, and then quickly leans back. His cheeks are flushed. "Apologies. Your Grace."

"....nah you're good, keep going."

Xiao

"You are deserving." Xiao's heart swells with appreciation and awe. His chest is a tight-knotted ball, writhing with emotion at your praise. He nods, feeling unworthy. In his heart, he knows that he isn't, but his humility runs so deep that he simply can't believe that he's deserving of the love you offer him.

"A-am I, Your Grace?" he whispers, tears pooling in his eyes. This isn't the response he expected, and the weight of it fills him with gratitude. "Yes." The single, one syllable response is enough to move Xiao to tears. He nods, blinking back his tears. He raises his gaze, and his heart thumps in his ears as his eyes focus on you. He struggles to swallow his pride and speaks, his voice hoarse.

"Thank you," he whispers, "thank you so much for choosing me." "I will always choose you, no matter what." "You will...?" The words leave Xiao breathless. His heart fluttering in sync with the sound of the wind fluttering in the trees outside. "Y-you're..."

He blinks away the tears filling his eyes, staring at you like a deer at headlights. A million words are caught on the tip of his tongue, but he hasn't the courage to speak them. Instead, he nods. "I will always choose you too, Your Grace. I will always be yours." His eyes flicker to meet yours, for only a moment, then avert. Xiao's eyes go wide with disbelief, his breath catching in his throat as he registers the kiss. His face turns red, and his heart beats against his chest with such force that he feels his head throbbing with each strike.

The kiss lasts only a moment, but his mind is filled with an electric thrill. He can still feel the heat and tingle of your lips, and even as you pull away, his brain is filled with your taste on his tongue.

"Was I deserving of that, Your Grace...?" he whispers, breathless.

"...we need to work on it, yes, yes you were."

Xingqiu - aged up

"I see you brought me a new book!" "Ah..." Xinqiu nods as he turns his head back towards you. In his arms is a book bound in ivory leather. "I thought you might enjoy it, Your Grace...It's name is 'A song for the dead'."

"I... thought its stories would suit your interests."  Xingqiu's voice is soft, though clearly nervous. Nervous he might picked the wrong one. "I thought its stories of betrayal, and vengeance would captivate you. That is all, Your Grace."

Xinqiu is careful with his language; speaking slowly and deliberately. Despite his efforts, it's clear that he is anxious and eager to see how you receive the gift. "Thank you." And you thank him with a gentle kiss. The sound of Xinqiu's breath catching in his throat. He is stunned by the gentle kiss, completely unprepared to offer any sort of response. After a moment, he leans into the kiss.

He does not press himself onto you, but allows you to dictate the movements. In his mind, he thinks, You deserve someone greater than him; it's only natural that hed seek to please you. He offers no resistance to your will. Xingqius eyes close as he seems to sink deeper into the feeling. He has had these fantasies, but always dismissed them as impossible.

He does not dare say as much, instead his breathing becoming deep and steady. His eyes remain closed. After a moment of silence, he speaks again, his voice soft and hushed. "Your Grace..." "Yes?"

"I..." Xingqiu difficulty finding the right words. His eyes open, though they don't meet yours. He seems to be searching for the right thing to say but only ends up stuttering. "... Your Grace... I... I would ask you to accept my vows as your loyal devotee. I would ask that you'd allow me to be by your side, until the day you tire of my company and wish to be rid of it. I would ask that you would allow me to serve you, and fight for you. To honor you and your word..."

Zhongli

Zhongli stops short once he hears your words. For a moment, he seems not to understand their significance towards him. Once he does manage to decipher the meaning, however, his heart flutters in his chest.

"You... You love me?" There. The words hang between you both, as though they could be blown away with the slightest gust of wind.

Zhongli is frozen for a moment, almost afraid to breathe for risk of shattering the quiet. But yet... even though he's petrified, he doesn't seem to wish for it to end.

"With every fiber of my body." A light breeze passes through the courtyards, almost like the flutter of an angel's wing. Zhongli takes it a sign for him to follow his impulses, to throw caution to the wind.

In a singular instant, he leans forward, his hands clasping your face. His thumb caresses your soft lips as though tracing a holy scripture. Zhongli has waited six-thousand years to feel this moment. The moment that would change everything. He leans in and presses a light kiss to your warm, pink lips. "I love you...I..." Zhongli's words are cut off as he leans in, his lips pressing against yours.

His heart threatens to burst out of his chest. His mind is swirling with a thousand thoughts. The moment lasts only a second but feels like time itself has come to halt. Even as he breathes, it feels like every air his lungs take is sacred... as if this could be his last moment before his final curtain.

Zhongli clings to the kiss as if it's the only thing keeping him in this world. As if he could disappear without your words, your touch. Zhongli kisses you once more with just as much passion as before. He doesn't want to let go, yet you both need to breathe. Once you pull apart, his hands remain on your neck, gripping your skin as if he will never let go.

Zhongli is unable to speak. His vision is swimming with tears of joy, yet his breath is shallow and his heart fluttering.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice so soft that you must lean in simply to hear it.

"I love you too."

🤍 TAGLIST 🤍

@junejunejun

[remlionheart]

Dazai with a reader who got a HUGE oral kink, like they just cant stop giving him oral

₊ ⊹MDNI₊ ⊹

ft. whiney, whimpering, overstimulated dazai :(((

Dazai had little to no self control when it came to most things in life, but especially when it involved the feeling of your soft lips wrapped around his overly sensitive tip. The content little hums you'd let out in between breaths while you flattened your tongue and ran it faithfully up his length for the third time in only a few hours.

"Oh - fuck, fuck... fuck." He groaned, teetering on the verge of overstimulation. He wasn't sure what he'd done to get so lucky. Wasn't sure what he'd ever done so right to deserve a girl that loved to devour him the way that you did, but god damn, was he thankful to whatever divine intervention had led him to you.

Every time he thought there was no possible way he had another drop of cum left to spare, you somehow always managed to coax it out of him anyway.

“Angel,” he nearly whimpered, little tremors hitting his slender body in waves, making his legs shake against the firm grasp of your palm. “I’m - mmm, so… sens...itive - hah-”

His breathy obscenities went straight to your center, making you all the more determined to take him in deeper. A mixture of guttural moans and lewd slurping filled the room as you continued to grind against his leg. Your clit desperately searching for friction while your hand and mouth worked in perfect synchronicity against him.

“You want me to stop?" You asked, batting your eyes up at him through heavy lashes. You already knew the answer from how feverishly he kept thrusting into you though, his tip hitting the back of your throat in a way that slurred and strained your words. "All you have to do... is - tell me to stop... and I will...."

His mind was on fire - stuck somewhere between wanting you to go slower and faster. Easier and harder. "S'too much, angel" and "Don't you dare fucking stop."

He was delirious, spilling out the prettiest, whiniest noises as his long fingers tangled into your hair while he watched you. His mouth dropping open in awe. "I can take it." He gritted out, not ready to pull himself away from the salacious warmth your tongue was gracing him with. "I can take it. Keep going."

It was cute, how hard he tried to seem in control while being at the mercy of your touch.

"I just want one more," your voice was velvet across his tender skin, pleasure mixing with pain as you let out the softest demands. "You're doing so good," you praised, noting the way his eyes had began to roll back. "Good boy, just like that."

Having two switches in a relationship could be a real problem sometimes - neither one of you easily willing to submit to the other. It was a competition almost in the way that you'd both fight for dominance, but today - oh today, you had him right where you wanted him. Even if he wanted to deny it, he couldn't. Not with the way he was writhing under you and whimpering out your name in the neediest voice you'd ever heard from him. Cock twitching when the words, "good boy" left your mouth.

"Give me one more, baby. Just one more." You let the spit that you'd gathered up pool down over his shaft as your hollowed out your cheeks to take him in further, trying not to smile at the way his hips bucked up towards you. His grip tightening in your hair as more incoherent little nothings echoed out into the space between you. "Yeah, there you go. Look at you, you're so close."

"I'm -" he struggled, his pretty brown eyes nearly watering from how overwhelmed his senses were. "Fuck” he hissed. “I’m gonna -”

Your stare locked with his, a wicked smile splitting across your face as his release coated the back of your throat. Cum leaking graciously down your chin as you swallowed every last drop you could before placing a light kiss on his tip, admiring how swollen and perfectly pink it was.

He wasn’t sure if it was an angel or the devil himself that had brought you into his life with the beautifully depraved way you were looking back at him, but either way - he was fucking thankful.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[feyascorner]

before my nails dig

summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.

warnings. angst, fluff, comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos

Had breathing always been this hard?

It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.

And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.

It's getting harder to breathe now.

A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.

"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."

Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.

"Wake up."

"Wake up!"

"--Astarion!"

The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.

All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.

But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.

With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.

All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.

You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"

"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.

"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.

After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."

He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."

"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"

He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.

Gods, you're beautiful.

Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.

"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."

The words sound like honey on your tongue.

"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."

His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."

"You didn't."

"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.

Refreshing, almost.

Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.

And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.

[little-jana]

"A Calculated Risk"

Part 1 - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing

Words: 750

Summary: Spencer teaches reader some important facts about germs.

The case had been exhausting, stretching long into the night. We were both tired, yet somehow, the fatigue seemed to have pushed us closer rather than further apart. As we sat in the dimly lit conference room, reviewing the final details of the case before wrapping up, there was an unexpected quietness between us. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather a silence that hung with a sense of anticipation, like the calm before a storm.

Spencer had been unusually still, his focus on the case file in front of him, but his eyes kept flicking to me, as though he was measuring something, searching for the right words—or perhaps the courage. I couldn’t deny that I was feeling the same pull, a growing tension in the air that wasn’t about the case at all.

I noticed how his fingers nervously tapped against the table, a subconscious gesture that I knew too well. He was overthinking, just like always. I wanted to say something to ease the quiet, to break the barrier between us that felt so fragile, yet so significant.

But before I could speak, he did.

“Do you ever think about... the possibility of... transmitting germs while kissing?” he asked, his voice soft and hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure why he’d even brought it up. His eyes were wide, earnest, and his usual shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

I couldn’t help but smile back, despite the absurdity of the question. Spencer had always had a unique way of turning even the most intimate moments into something logical, something quantifiable. “You mean, like the exchange of bacteria?” I asked, playing along, though my heart was racing.

“Exactly,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his face flushed with the slightest hint of embarrassment. “Studies show that the human mouth contains over 700 types of bacteria, many of which can be transferred during... close contact. I mean, statistically speaking, it’s a significant risk.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing, but there was something so endearing about his scientific approach to something so inherently emotional. Spencer Reid was a brilliant man, but in this moment, I could see the nervous, vulnerable side of him—the side that didn’t quite know how to navigate emotions, especially when it came to something like kissing.

“Spencer,” I said softly, my voice quiet but warm, “sometimes... it’s okay to let go of the facts. You don’t always need to calculate everything. Some things, like this...,” I reached out, gently touching his hand on the table, “can’t be explained by science.”

His gaze shifted to my hand, and I could see the realization flicker in his eyes. I watched as his breath hitched ever so slightly, his usually composed demeanor faltering for just a moment. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but the words seemed to escape him. Instead, he leaned forward, just enough to close the distance between us.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the warmth of his presence enveloping me. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in that shared space, that fragile moment. Without another word, I leaned in, my lips brushing against his in the softest, most tentative kiss.

It was gentle at first—almost shy—like he was still processing the idea, as if he needed to test the waters before fully giving in to the feeling. But then, something shifted. Spencer’s lips responded with a tenderness that took me by surprise, a deep warmth that spoke volumes, even without words.

As we pulled apart, I could see the flush on his cheeks, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and awe, as though he couldn’t believe it had happened. I could feel the smile tugging at my own lips as I gazed at him.

“Well,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically breathless, “I suppose the risk of bacterial transmission just became... a little more bearable.”

I laughed softly, unable to resist his quirky charm. “You’re impossible,” I teased, but my voice was filled with affection.

Spencer, still clearly processing, looked down at the table for a moment, as though his brain was catching up to his heart. Then, he looked up at me with that trademark shy smile, the one I’d come to love more than I could admit.

“I’m... glad we did that,” he said, almost shyly, like he couldn’t believe it himself.

I reached for his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze. “Me too,” I whispered, my heart still racing from the kiss, and I had the overwhelming sense that this was just the beginning of something much bigger between us.

Part 3

[goldfades]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYkwmsqH/

Need a fic about this! With joe and Hayes seeing mama in the morning after she had a rough night ☺️

it started with the softest sound—tiny feet padding across the hardwood floor. your body stirred instinctively, the haze of a sleepless night still weighing heavy on you, but before you could fully wake, a warm hand brushed your arm.

“shh,” joe whispered, his voice low and tender. “go back to sleep. i’ve got him.”

and just like that, the mattress dipped as he scooped hayes up into his arms, your son’s muffled voice babbling something incoherent. you caught glimpses of joe's soothing words as the two of them disappeared into the hallway: “mama needs her rest. let’s give her a break, huh?”

hours later, the sun streamed in through the curtains, bright enough to pull you from the depths of sleep. the first thing you noticed was the stillness—the kind you hadn’t felt in weeks. no cries, no little hands tugging at your shirt. just the muffled sound of morning cartoons playing somewhere downstairs and the faint aroma of coffee.

you sat up slowly, the weight of the night before still lingering in your bones. hayes had struggled, tossing and turning, little whimpers escaping his lips as you rocked him back and forth in the dim glow of his nightlight. joe had been on the road, and you’d taken the night shift solo, determined to soothe your little boy through whatever bad dream had gripped him.

now, though, the house was quiet. and when you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you found a soft sweatshirt of joe’s draped over the chair, an unspoken gesture of care. you tugged it on and padded toward the door, wondering where your two favorite people had gone.

the answer came as you stepped into the kitchen. there was joe, his back to you, wearing sweats and a t-shirt, his hair still messy from sleep. in one hand, he held a spatula, flipping scrambled eggs in a pan, while his other arm cradled hayes against his side.

“dada,” hayes babbled, pointing at something on the counter—likely the coffee cup that joe had brought back from your favorite café. joe chuckled, his voice soft as he adjusted hayes on his hip.

“not for you, buddy,” he said. “that’s for mama. speaking of…”

he turned, catching sight of you lingering in the doorway, and his face lit up with a smile that made your heart ache in the best way.

“there she is,” he said, setting the spatula down and crossing the room in a few quick strides. “how’d you sleep?”

“like a rock,” you admitted, leaning into him as he pressed a kiss to your temple. hayes reached out for you, his tiny hands grabbing at the strings of your sweatshirt, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pulled him into your arms.

“he’s been good this morning,” joe said, resting a hand on your back as he kissed the top of hayes’ head. “ate all his breakfast, didn’t fuss. i think we’re in the clear from last night.”

“i owe you one,” you murmured, nuzzling hayes’ cheek as he giggled.

joe tilted his head, mock offense flashing across his features. “one? i think this earns me at least a week of foot rubs.”

you laughed, swatting at his chest as he grinned, clearly proud of himself. but then his expression softened, and he reached over to grab the coffee he’d set aside, holding it out to you like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“got this for you,” he said. “figured you deserved a little pick-me-up after last night.”

“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just the coffee—it was the way joe always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t ask. it was the way he showed up, again and again, as the partner and father you’d always dreamed of.

he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, everything else fell away. it didn’t matter how hard last night had been, or how many sleepless nights might come after. in this moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of your family, you felt whole.

“i love you,” joe said softly, his hand brushing against your arm as he looked at you like you were the center of his universe.

“i love you, too,” you replied, your heart full as you glanced down at hayes, who was already reaching for the cup of coffee in your hand.

“and i love you, little man,” joe added, ruffling hayes’ hair as your son giggled, oblivious to the weight of the moment.

this was your life—messy, chaotic, and so, so beautiful.

masterlist! thank you for reading <3

[enderlovez]

Bloody

Spencer Reid x Vampire Reader WORD COUNT: 737

Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid is married to a vampire.

Content Warning: mentions of blood drinking, reader can go out in the sun but it's uncomfortable, reader has red eyes, reader is immortal and a few centuries old, brief mentions of murder and stalking

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer's not entirely sure how he ended up in this situation in the first place—you clinging to him like he's an oversized teddy bear—but he knows he wouldn't want it any other way.

Having a hungry vampire with her face pressed right up against his jugular should be enough to have him cringing away. And admittedly his pulse is racing, but for an entirely different reason, as his fingers absentmindedly draw shapes on the soft, exposed skin of your hip.

If someone had told Spencer three years ago that he would be happily married to a vampire he would have laughed in their face.

Yet here he is, holding his beautiful wife in his arms, and he can say for sure that he's never been happier.

How the two of you met? Well, that's something for another day, but to make a long story short, you found him while he was seconds away from being stabbed in the back of the neck by a psycho stalker.

"You awake?" he asks in an almost inaudible voice. Spencer feels the faint brush of your lips against his neck as you nod, leaving the softest of kisses against the delicate skin. It makes a shiver run down his spine, and he knows you can hear the increase of his heartrate.

Though you don't make any noise, he can feel the cool air on his neck as you let out a silent chuckle.

"Still hungry?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers pausing their tracing for just a moment.

You pull back slightly, your crimson eyes peeking up to meet his hazel ones, glinting faintly in the dim light. There's a softness there, a warmth that doesn't quite match the traditional tales of your kind, and one that only Spencer can see.

"Not for blood," you reply, voice laced with teasing affection. "I'm more interested in the genius who's letting me hog all the blankets, even when he knows I don't need them in the slightest."

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle, brushing a loose strand of your hair back behind your ear. "I think 'genius' might be overselling it. Most people would call this situation irrational, maybe even reckless."

Neither of you mention how nobody would even believe him, if he were to tell then he's married to a vampire.

"Most people don't know you like I do," you counter, resting your head back onto him, this time on his chest. "You're not reckless, Spencer. You're... curious. And kind. That's why you didn't run when you figured out what I was."

He smiles faintly, the memory of the night you met briefly flashing through his mind. It wasn't every day you met someone who saved your life and then casually admitted they'd (technically) been dead for centuries. "I'd like to think the profiling helped with that," he jokes.

"Oh, definitely," you tease, drawing lazy patterns on his shirt with your pointer finger. "Nothing screams 'trustworthy' like a man reciting the statistics about violent crime to a vampire."

He laughs softly, and you join him for a moment, the sound mingling in the otherwise quiet room. Spencer's laughter fades as his eyes drift back to yours again, his expression growing thoughtful. "Does it still bother you?" he asks gently.

You know what he's referring to without needing clarification—the sunlit mornings he spends alone most of the time, the quiet ache of being different, the things you've done to survive.

"Sometimes," you admit, your voice quieter now. "But being with you makes it easier. You remind me that there's light, even for... someone like me."

Spencer leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're my light, too," he says softly. "Even if you do steal all the blankets."

You smile against his chest, your pointed teeth peeking out ever so slightly. "I think I'll keep you around, Doctor Reid. You're pretty good at this whole 'marriage' thing."

"Good," he murmurs, holding you tighter, "because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"I think it's more like you're stuck with me," you correct gently, "you know, considering I'm the predator in this scenario. You're my prey."

His fingers resume their movements on your hip. He doesn't say anything, know that one way or another, you'll find a way to counter anything he says. Being alive for hundreds of years has made you good at things like that.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Love Of Tomorrow - Colin Bridgerton

Word count: 968

Summary: How becoming a father can change a man's feelings, quite strange is it not?

The first light of dawn crept through the heavy curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room.

Colin Bridgerton lay on his back, head propped on pillows, gazing at the two people who had become his entire world.

Beside him, you, his beloved wife, slept peacefully, your hair spread across the pillow like a halo.

Nestled between you, in a tiny cradle of blankets, was your newborn son, a perfect bundle of warmth and innocence.

Colin’s heart swelled with an emotion so profound he could hardly find words for it.

He had always imagined what it might be like to become a father, but nothing had prepared him for the sheer depth of love and protectiveness that surged through him every time he looked at his child.

The baby, with its tiny, delicate features and the softest skin, seemed almost too perfect to be real.

Every breath his son took, every little noise he made, felt like a miracle.

Colin gently brushed his fingers over the baby’s tiny hand.

The infant stirred slightly but did not wake.

Colin marveled at the small fingers, so perfectly formed, and felt a lump in his throat.

He couldn’t believe that this little life was his to care for, protect, and love.

You stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open.

You smiled softly as you took in the sight of your husband gazing down at your child.

“You’re still awake,” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep.

Colin turned to you, his eyes shining with happiness. “I can’t seem to take my eyes off him,” he confessed, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled and reached out to touch his cheek. “I know the feeling,” you said softly. “But you need to rest too, Colin. You’ve barely slept since he was born.”

Colin shook his head. “I don’t want to miss a single moment,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m missing something.”

Your heart melted at his words.

You had always known that Colin would make a wonderful father, but seeing him now, so completely and utterly in love with your son, filled you with a happiness that you could hardly contain.

“Why don’t you hold him for a bit?” you suggested, your eyes twinkling with affection.

Colin hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “Are you sure? What if I wake him up?”

You chuckled softly. “He's your son, Colin. He's used to your voice, your touch."

"Besides,” you added with a mischievous grin, “you’re going to have to get used to holding him at some point.”

Colin nodded, though he still looked a little apprehensive.

Carefully, he reached out and lifted the baby from the cradle of blankets, cradling the tiny body against his chest.

The baby made a small noise but then settled back into sleep, the tiny head resting against Colin’s heart.

Colin felt a surge of emotion so intense it took his breath away.

Holding his son in his arms, feeling the soft rise and fall of his tiny chest, he felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

This little life was so fragile, so precious, and it was up to him to keep him safe.

You watched him, your heart full.

You could see the love and wonder in Colin’s eyes, and it made you love him even more.

You had always admired Colin’s carefree spirit, his sense of adventure, and his boundless energy.

But seeing him now, so gentle and tender with your child, made you realize just how deep his capacity for love truly was.

“You’re a natural,” you whispered, your voice full of admiration.

Colin looked up at you, his eyes shining with gratitude. “I don’t know about that,” he said, his voice tinged with humility. “But I’m going to do my best.”

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips. “You’re going to be an amazing father,” you said with certainty.

Colin smiled back at you, his heart full. “And you,” he said softly, “are already an amazing mother.”

You blushed slightly at the compliment, but your eyes sparkled with happiness.

You had always known that motherhood would be challenging, but having Colin by your side made everything feel possible.

For a while, you simply sat there in the quiet of the early morning, taking in the wonder of your new family.

The world outside could wait.

At this moment, everything you needed was right here, in this room.

As the sun continued to rise, filling the room with a warm, golden light, Colin felt a deep sense of contentment settle over him.

This was his life now, and he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

Every adventure, every journey he had ever taken, had led him to this moment, to this little family that he loved more than anything in the world.

“I think we should stay in bed all day,” Colin said suddenly, his voice filled with a playful determination.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what about your duties? Your responsibilities?”

Colin shook his head. “Nothing is more important than this,” he said, his voice firm. “I want to spend every possible moment with you and our son.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man you had married. “Then it’s settled,” you said with a grin. “We’ll stay in bed all day.”

Colin beamed at you, his heart light with happiness.

He leaned over and kissed you, a sweet, lingering kiss that spoke of all the love he felt for you.

When you finally pulled apart, Colin settled back against the pillows, holding your child close.

As the day went on, the three of you stayed in bed, wrapped up in each other and in the joy of your new family.

[wandasaura]

END UP DREAMING INSTEAD OF SLEEPING

summary — you can’t hate her with your eyes closed, so falling asleep against her chest definitely can’t be held against you… right?

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, domestic fluff w/ the cutest lawyer!wives and their bratty baby. this entire thing is just straight fluff, you horndogs need a timeout

authors note — here’s a little blurb for you, it was originally requested on ao3 !! it’s not much, just some wholesome fluff with our favorite ‘enemies’

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff

Natasha was properly exhausted, and the redness in her eyes spoke to that fact. Her sluggish footsteps carried her toward the front door at a snail's pace, and dragging her suitcase up the driveway had never felt like such a difficult task. Beneath the blanket of nightfall, the lawyer questioned if potential theft was worth leaving the luggage abandoned beside Wanda’s car in favor of walking into the house empty-handed, but had persisted with her motions when she decided she’d rather not have to go through the process of ordering yet another set of suitcases. Nobody would ever know how she came to have such misfortune with checking bags at the airport, but the running list of lost luggage was long and quite funny to people who weren’t her. 

Being away for two weeks had felt like torture, and she was more then glad to be back in the space she created with her wife. Seeing your car in the driveway parked behind hers had been an additional bonus. Wanda had relayed very minimal information regarding the events that had led to you spending your nights and days off in Westview, which meant that whatever happened would certainly piss her off, but despite the knowledge of something upsetting you while she was away, it was comforting to know that both of her girls were waiting for her return in the same space. 

Natasha struggled to find her keys when she finally made it to the front door, and with greuling efforts she had only barely managed to get the lock to turn on her first try when she’d finally located her keyring in the second smallest pocket of her crossbody bag. The entryway was dark, much like the rest of the house, but the softest glow of light came from a lamp in the living room that hadn’t been turned off. Wanda was meticulous about turning everything off before she went to bed, and if she ever had the slightest inquisition about having forgotten, she made rounds through the house to assure nothing had been overseen on her first pass. Leaving the suitcase beside the door, Natasha followed the kiss of light that projected shadows against the wall. 

Even though the light was dim, one they used sparingly when a good book captured their attention and the length of sunlight was minimal, the silhouettes of two bodies were easily identifiable. Wanda sat curled up against the arm of the couch, her legs folded beneath her body with her chin propped up against the palm of her hand. You were burrowed into her side, your face pressed into her neck and hiding from the peaks of light that tried to stir you awake. Natasha felt her heart skip at the sight of you so content with one another, knowing that something must have gone right to lead to this tender moment. 

“Natalia?” Wanda shifted at the echo of footsteps that hadn’t lingered through the house in fourteen days, her lips pulling into a sleep-riddled grin when she made out the distinct appearance of her wife dressed in comfortable black loungewear. 

Natasha laughed softly at the expression on her wifes face, stepping close enough to lay a kiss against the crown of her head. “Privet dorogaya.” 

“She wanted to wait for you. Poor thing was out within the first twenty minutes.” Wanda looked down at you, smiling at the easy way about your features when they weren’t riddled with stress and sadness. Classes had taken their toll on you, but as you fell into a dream that Wanda could only hope was good, there was an undeniable youth to your features. “I missed you.” She pulled Natasha down to her lips, humming in bliss when the recently returned lawyer returned the embrace. 

“Missed you too. I almost killed Tony on the third day.” Natasha deflated against Wanda, and the Sokovian only laughed softly, knowing that fact was more than accurate. It was honestly surprising he hadn’t done something to tick off the Russian earlier. “I’m gonna take a shower. Meet me in bed?” 

“I’ll be waiting, Mrs. Maximoff.” Wanda winked, watching Natasha retreat up the stairs, and minutes later the telltale sound of the shower running filled the house that had existed in near complete silence since the day she left. Wanda didn’t move from the couch, wanting to spend a few more minutes with you at her side before the peace was interrupted. When you stirred, trying to find a more comfortable position and ultimately failing, you groaned in annoyance. “Morning, sleepyhead.” 

“No. Goodnight.” You pressed your face into Wanda’s neck, covering the side of your face with your palm as even the close contact couldn’t completely coat you in craved for darkness. 

Wanda laughed at your attempt to find sleep, but she didn’t allow you to succeed. She sat up straight, subsequently causing your body to twist at an awkward angle that would only be soothed if you shifted position too. You sighed, rubbing sleep from your eyes, deciding that it wasn’t going to be coming over you again for at least another handful of minutes. 

“Is Natty home?” You perked up, hearing the shower running upstairs. 

Wanda smirked at your delayed realization, nodding her head in the direction of the stairs. “Mmhm. Come on, she came in a couple minutes ago.” 

You followed the Sokovian up the stairs, pointedly ignoring the embarrassment that settled across your cheeks when you sleepily stumbled into the wall after miscalculating the distance to the door of their bedroom. You flopped against the bed the second you were close enough, claiming your rightful position in the middle of the blankets. 

“Getting comfy now, are we?” Wanda laughed at your eagerness to settle into her bed, but she hadn’t expected the night to unfold any differently, though your impromptu cuddle session on the couch had not been a wrench she’d expected to see thrown into those plans. 

You didn’t cuddle back into her chest when she laid down in the bed beside you, but you didn’t shuffle away from her either. Your legs touched beneath the heavy white blanket that was pulled up over your shoulders, an eager smile on your lips as you heard the shower water turn off and Natasha mumbling beneath her breath as she fumbled through drawers and cabinets. 

“Two weeks away and she’s forgotten where she put her hairbrush.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was no trace of annoyance in her features as she watched the door with the same amount of excitement as you. 

When Natasha did reappear, dressed in a different set of loungewear and with her red waves cascading down her back in a dampened state, you wiggled closer to Wanda and patted the open space beside you. Little words were spoken, but nothing needed to be said when your bright smile spoke a million inexpressible feelings. Happy to be home, Natasha took full advantage of having both you and Wanda with her. She pulled you flush against her back, restraining your movement, but you had missed her heavy arm being thrown around your waist as you slept so you didn’t protest. Her fingers twisted into Wanda’s like they’d never truly belong anywhere else, and with full darkness surrounding the room, you fell back to sleep. 

“I love you.” Natasha whispered to Wanda, stroking the woman’s knuckles with the calloused pad of her thumb. 

“I love you too, moya lyubov’.” 

[thegirlamongthestars]

fluff alphabet - c.alcaraz

author's note: i had the biggest tenderness attack while doing this and picturing it in my head 😭 i'm just a big sucker for sweet Carlitos

dividers: @enchanthings

a = affection + activities (how affectionate is he? how does he show affection?/ how does he spend his free time with you?)

Carlos is naturally affectionate in the softest, most endearing ways.

He loves holding your hand, sneaking in forehead kisses when you least expect them and constantly checking in with cute texts.

In his free time, he’s all about quality moments with you.

Whether it’s trying out new sports, binge-watching series or just having a nap cuddling each other.

b = beauty - what does he admire about you? what does he think is beautiful about you?

He thinks everything about you is beautiful.

From the way you smile when you’re talking about something you love to the way your hair gets naturally wavier during summer.

But his favorite thing about you is how your eyes sparkle when you're looking at him.

c = cuddles + comfort (does he like to cuddle? how would he cuddle you?/how would he help you when you’re feeling down?)

He’s the ultimate cuddle-buddy.

Carlos loves to hold you close, especially after a long day.

When you’re down, he’ll wrap his arms around you, stroke your hair and whisper comforting words.

His go-to move is to bury his face in your neck, making you laugh until you forget whatever was bothering you.

d = domestic + dreams (does he want to settle down? how does he picture their future together?)

He’s open to the idea of settling down, though he doesn’t rush it.

Carlitos pictures a cozy home, somewhere warm in Spain, filled with laughter and definetly a dog or two running around.

e = equal (is he the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

Carlos values equality in the relationship.

He isn’t dominant or passive; he sees you as a team.

He loves making decisions together, bouncing ideas off each other and respecting your independence.

f = fiancé (how does he feel about commitment? how quick would he want to get married?)

Carlos is all in when it comes to commitment. Once he knows you’re the one, he doesn’t hesitate.

He’s the type to casually drop hints about your future together, teasing you about where and how he's going to propose to you.

He knows you both are young now (so marriage is a future project) but he definetly knows he wants to go through it by your side.

g = gentle + gratitude (how gentle is he, both physically and emotionally?/ how grateful is he; is he aware of everything you do for him?)

He is gentle both physically and emotionally.

He’s mindful of your feelings, always considering how you’re doing.

He’s incredibly grateful for the little things you do.

Whether it’s showing up to his matches or just making him laugh on a bad day.

He never takes you for granted and tells you how lucky he feels to have you.

h = honesty (does he have secrets he hides from you? or does he share everything?)

Carlos believes in transparency.

He doesn’t keep secrets, even if something’s bothering him.

Even though he's still learning how to express his feelings, he’s open with his emotions and always listens when you need to talk.

i = i love you (how fast did he said the L-word?)

He didn’t take too long to say it.

Carlos felt it early on, but he waited for the perfect moment—a calm, intimate moment when it was just you two.

He said it while holding you close, whispering it like a secret while looking at you with his glimmering caramel eyes.

j = jealousy (how jealous does he get, does he get jealous easily? how does he deal with it? what does he do when he’s jealous?)

Carlos doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, he tries to be subtle about it.

Maybe a protective arm around your waist or holding your hand a little tighter.

He trusts you, but when he’s feeling a bit jealous, he’s extra affectionate to remind both of you that you’re his.

k = kisses (what are his kisses like? where does he like to kiss you? how was your first kiss like?)

Carlos’s kisses are the perfect mix of sweet and playful.

He loves teasing you with quick pecks, just enough to make you want more, then grinning when you try to pull him back in.

His favorite place to kiss? Definitely your lips, but he’s also obsessed with sneaking kisses on your neck or your forehead when you're not expecting it.

Your first kiss? Total butterflies.

It happened out of nowhere—one minute you were laughing together, the next he was leaning in, holding your face softly.

The kiss was slow, but not too serious, with just enough heat to make your heart race.

l = love language (what’s his love language? is it compatible with yours?)

His love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service.

He shows his love by being there for you whether it’s cooking dinner or giving you a massage after a long day.

Luckily, your love languages are super compatible, cause you're just as touchy as him.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with him? what’s your morning routing like?)

Mornings with Carlos are the best.

He’s an early riser but loves to spend a few extra minutes in bed with you, cuddling and talking.

He loves when you tell him what you've dreamt that night while he plays with your hair or just caresses your back slowly.

You usually make breakfast together, and there’s always playful teasing as you sabotage each other on the kitchen.

n = nicknames (what does he call you?)

Carlos calls you cute, Spanish nicknames like “mi vida” or “amor.”

Sometimes, when he’s feeling cheeky, he’ll call you “peque”, especially if he’s teasing you about how tiny you look next to him.

You adore calling him "cielo" and he literally melts everytime he hears you saying it.

o = on cloud nine (what is he like when he’s in love? is it obvious for others? how does he express his feelings?)

When Carlos is in love, he can’t hide it.

He’s constantly smiling, his eyes light up when you walk into the room and his friends tease him about the "stupid look" on his face all the time.

He expresses his feelings with small gestures like leaving you sweet messages on a whiteboard you have at your fridge door or surprising you with fresh flowers everytime he sees you.

But he's top way of expressing how he feels is by showering you with LOTS of kisses and cuddles.

p = pda (is he upfront about your relationship? does he brag about you with others? or he rather shy to kiss, etc. when others are watching?)

Carlos is not shy about showing his affection.

He’s proud to be with you and doesn’t mind kissing you in public or holding your hand for everyone to see.

While he’s not over-the-top, he makes it clear that you’re his.

q = quizzes (how many little things does he remember about you?)

He remembers everything—from your favorite ice cream flavor to the way you like your coffee.

He pays attention to the smallest details, surprising you by remembering things you didn’t even realize he noticed.

Like the time he bought you a set of earrings and ring just because he saw you looking at them mesmerized on a shop window.

r = romance ( how romantic is he? what would he do to make you happy? what is your favourite moment in your relationship?)

Carlos has a romantic side that shines through in simple, thoughtful ways.

He’ll plan spontaneous date nights or surprise you with handwritten notes.

Your favourite moment is when you're just cuddling at the sofa and talking about anything after a long day.

s = security + support (how protective is he? is he helping you achieve your goals?)

He’s protective, but in a way that’s sweet, not overwhelming.

Carlos always makes sure you’re safe, whether it’s holding your hand in a crowd or walking you home.

He’s your biggest supporter, constantly encouraging you to chase your dreams.

He'll sit by your side when you're studying or doing things related to your job and he'll ask you to explain everything to him.

t = try (how much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Carlos always goes the extra mile to make you feel special.

He loves planning sweet surprises, like a cozy picnic or a spontaneous weekend getaway.

He’s not just about the big stuff either—he’ll help out with day-to-day things, just to make your life easier.

He loves putting in the effort to keep things fun and fresh.

u = understanding (how well does he know you? is he empathetic?)

Carlos knows you so well.

He’s empathetic and can sense when something’s off, even before you say anything.

He’s always there to listen and understands that sometimes, you just need someone to be there without saying a word.

v = value (how important is the relationship to him? what is it worth in comparison to other things in his life?)

To Carlos, your relationship is everything.

He cherishes what you both have, often saying it’s worth more than any trophy or title he could ever win.

He prioritizes your time together, always finding ways to make you feel loved and appreciated.

Whether he’s busy with training or matches, you’re always on his mind.

He sees you as his greatest treasure, and he knows that the bond you share is what truly makes his life complete.

w = whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

Carlos can’t imagine his life without you.

You’re his partner in everything, and even the thought of being apart for a bit feels a little empty.

You bring so much joy and meaning to his life, and he loves sharing all those moments with you.

x - xtra (a random fluff headcanon)

Cuddled up on the couch, you and Carlos were wrapped in a cozy blanket, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light around you.

He turned to you, a playful smile on his face. “You know, I could get used to this,” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Just sitting around doing nothing?” you teased.

“As long as it’s with you...” he replied, leaning in closer and rubbing softly his nose against yours.

You couldn’t help but grin at his cheesy charm. “Smooth talker, huh?”

“Only for you” he shot back, his eyes sparkling.

With a sudden burst of mischief, he snatched a popcorn kernel from the bowl and tossed it at you. “But seriously, I could stay like this forever.”

You laughed, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing some back at him. “Forever sounds pretty good to me.”

y = yearning (how would he cope when he’s missing you?)

When he’s missing you, it hits hard.

He’ll send you random selfies from wherever he is or FaceTime you late at night just to hear your voice.

He’s the type to tell you he misses you even if it’s only been a few days.

z = zeal (is he willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? if so, what kind of?)

Carlos is all in, willing to go to any length for the relationship.

He makes every effort to carve out special moments for you, whether it’s a quick coffee date between practices or sneaking in a call after a long day.

His dedication shines through in every effort he makes to keep the spark alive, showing you that no matter how busy life gets, you’re always worth it.

[writingforstraykids]

What are your thoughts on Jilix as fwb? Please, anything 🙏🏻

Hii dear, thank you for the request🖤 As I already had some thoughts on Jilix kissing platonically I decided to take that as a starter. I was working on a fic based on Miu's audio sooo I thought why not combine those?🤭 hope you like it🖤🖤

Pairing: Jilix

Word Count: 3082

Summary: Jisung and Felix have slowly grown closer and became each other's safe haven. Fleeting touches turn into cuddles, cuddles turn into kisses, kisses one day turn into more.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, kissing, oral (ji receiving), whiny!bottom!ji, soft!lix, fwb

The dim glow of Jisung's lamp cast a warm light over the room as Jisung and Felix settled in for the night. They had just finished another exhausting day, performing for thousands of fans and basking in the high energy of the stage. Now, as the adrenaline faded, they found themselves in the quiet solitude of Jisung's room.

It had become a routine for them, these nights spent together. Initially, it was out of convenience and comfort; sharing a room meant they had someone familiar to unwind with after the chaos of the day. But over time, their interactions had evolved into something more intimate, yet undefined.

Jisung was sprawled out on the bed, his limbs heavy with fatigue. Felix, ever the night owl, was still puttering around, brushing his teeth and organizing his things. The two had grown used to each other's habits and quirks, finding a rhythm that worked for them.

"Hey, you coming to bed or what?" Jisung called out, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Yeah, yeah, just a sec," Felix replied, his voice tinged with amusement. He quickly finished up and turned off the bathroom light, plunging the room into a comfortable darkness, save for the lamp.

Felix climbed into bed beside Jisung, their proximity close but still respectful of personal space. It was a boundary they had naturally established, though it was becoming increasingly porous.

Jisung shifted slightly, turning to face Felix. "You did great tonight," he said softly. "The fans loved your solo."

Felix smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thanks, Ji. You were amazing too. Your rap was fire."

They lay there for a moment, the silence filled with unspoken words. It was Felix who broke it, leaning over to place a fleeting kiss on Jisung's hair. It was innocent, almost brotherly, but it sent a ripple of warmth through Jisung. He felt a flutter in his chest, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar.

"Night, Ji," Felix murmured, settling back down.

"Night, Lix," Jisung replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The next night, the atmosphere was much the same. They returned to their room after another busy day, exhausted but exhilarated. As they settled in, Jisung felt a strange but familiar pull toward Felix. It started with a casual brush of hands, a lingering touch that neither pulled away from. Then, a kiss on the temple, followed by one on the forehead.

It was innocent, tender, and filled with an unspoken need. They were both touch-starved, craving the simple comfort of being held and loved in a way that transcended words. As they cuddled up, Jisung felt a sense of peace wash over him. Felix's presence was grounding, a reminder that amidst the chaos of their lives, there was a constant they could rely on.

One night, as they lay in bed, Felix grew a little bolder. He had always been the more adventurous one, willing to push boundaries just to see where they led. As he nestled closer to Jisung, he planted the softest kiss on his neck, testing the waters.

Jisung's breath hitched, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel special. There was a vulnerability in Felix's actions, a silent plea for connection that Jisung couldn't ignore. He found himself leaning into it, encouraging Felix in subtle ways—a gentle touch, a soft sigh, a quiet "yes" in the darkness.

As they lay there, bodies entwined, Jisung's fingers found their way into Felix's hair, running through the soft strands. Felix responded by kissing Jisung's neck sleepily, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

Without thinking, Jisung pulled Felix up, meeting his lips in a kiss that was both surprising and inevitable. It was a culmination of all the unspoken emotions and desires that had been slowly simmering between them. They kissed with a tenderness that spoke volumes, their need for each other laid bare in that intimate moment.

From that night on, their dynamic shifted. What had started as innocent gestures of affection grew into something more profound. They became each other's solace, their safe haven in a world that often demanded too much of them.

Whenever one of them was hurt, the other was there to kiss away the bruises, offering comfort and healing in the form of soft touches and whispered reassurances. When one of them was upset, the other was there to kiss away the tears, holding them close when they felt like falling apart.

Whatever room they shared became a sanctuary, a place where they could be themselves without the weight of expectations. They would spend hours holding onto each other, their lips meeting in a dance of affection that left them feeling seen and appreciated.

One night, after a particularly grueling day, they found themselves in bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Jisung was tracing lazy patterns on Felix's back, the repetitive motion soothing them both.

"Ji," Felix murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion and something deeper. "Do you ever think about... us? Like, what this means?"

Jisung's hand stilled for a moment before he resumed the gentle strokes. "Yeah, I do," he admitted. "But I try not to overthink it. What we have... it's special. And I don't want to ruin it by putting labels on it."

Felix nodded, understanding but still needing reassurance. "I just... I care about you, Ji. A lot."

"I care about you too, Lix," Jisung replied softly. "More than anything."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of their words hanging in the air. There was a sense of contentment in knowing that they had each other, no matter what.

As the tour continued, their bond only grew stronger. They navigated the challenges and triumphs together, finding strength in their connection. Every night, they would return to their now shared hotel room, eager to seek solace in each other's arms.

One evening, after a particularly emotional performance, Felix found himself feeling unusually vulnerable. The cheers of the crowd had been overwhelming, and the pressure to be perfect weighed heavily on him.

Jisung noticed the tension in Felix's frame as they entered their room. Without a word, he pulled Felix into a tight embrace, holding him close. Felix melted into the hug, his defenses crumbling as he buried his face in Jisung's shoulder.

"It's okay, Lix," Jisung murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "You're amazing, and you don't have to be perfect. Just be yourself."

Felix let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of Jisung's words seep into his soul. He pulled back slightly, looking into Jisung's eyes. "Thank you, Ji," he whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jisung smiled, his heart swelling with affection. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere."

Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, a promise of support and love that transcended words. They held each other close, finding comfort in the simple act of being together.

As the months passed, their nights became a ritual of intimacy and connection. They would talk about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves that they kept hidden from the world. In those moments, they were not just idols but two people who needed each other in ways that went beyond friendship. Until one day, another so far established boundary was bent…

The hotel room was dimly lit, casting long shadows on the walls as Jisung and Felix entered, both exhausted from the night's performance. The thrill of the concert still buzzed faintly in their veins, but fatigue was quickly catching up. They had become used to this pattern: the high of the show, the quiet descent into their shared sanctuary, the solace they found in each other's presence.

Jisung flopped onto the bed, kicking off his shoes with a groan. "I'm beat," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Felix chuckled softly, closing the door behind him. "I know the feeling," he replied, setting down his bag and stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned stomach, and Jisung's eyes were momentarily drawn to the sight.

They had grown closer over the past months, their bond deepening in ways they hadn't anticipated. What started as simple gestures of affection had evolved into a physical intimacy that neither of them had the words to fully describe. They had found comfort in each other's touch, a way to feel grounded amidst the chaos of their lives.

Felix opened the window, the distant sound of traffic floating into the room. Felix approached the bed and sat down beside Jisung, his hand coming to rest on Jisung's back. "Come on, Ji. Get up. You need to change out of those clothes."

Jisung rolled onto his back, looking up at Felix with a tired smile. "You're such a nag, you know that?"

Felix grinned, leaning down to plant a kiss on Jisung's forehead. "Someone has to take care of you," he teased. "Now, come on."

With a groan, Jisung sat up, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. Felix watched him with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, his gaze lingering on the way Jisung's muscles moved under his skin. There was a tension in the air, a current of unspoken desire that seemed to crackle between them.

As Jisung reached for his pajama top, Felix's hand caught his wrist, stopping him. Jisung looked up, surprised, and saw the intensity in Felix's eyes.

"Lix?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

Felix didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned in, his breath warm against Jisung's skin as he placed a soft kiss on Jisung's collarbone. Jisung's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Felix..." he murmured, but there was no protest in his tone. If anything, there was an unspoken invitation, a desire for more.

Felix's kisses trailed up Jisung's neck, each one sending shivers down his spine. When he reached Jisung's jaw, he paused, their faces inches apart. Jisung's eyes fluttered closed, anticipation coiling tight in his stomach.

"Ji," Felix whispered, his voice husky. "Is this okay?"

Jisung's eyes opened, meeting Felix's gaze. There was a vulnerability in Felix's expression, a need for reassurance. Jisung answered by cupping Felix's face in his hands, pulling him into a kiss that was anything but innocent.

The kiss deepened quickly, a hunger that had been building for weeks finally finding release. Felix's hands roamed over Jisung's bare chest, his touch both gentle and insistent. Jisung responded in kind, his fingers tangling in Felix's hair, pulling him closer.

They broke apart only when the need for air became too great, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Jisung's eyes were dark with desire, his lips swollen from their kiss. Felix's pupils were dilated, his skin flushed.

"God, Ji," Felix murmured, his voice shaky. "I want you."

Jisung's heart skipped a beat at the raw honesty in Felix's words. He leaned in, capturing Felix's lips in another searing kiss. "I want you too, Lix," he whispered against Felix's mouth. "So much."

They moved together in a tangle of limbs and desire, shedding clothes and inhibitions. The feel of Felix's skin against his own was electrifying, each touch sparking a fire that burned hotter with every passing second.

Felix's hands were everywhere, exploring Jisung's body with a reverence that made Jisung's heart ache. When Felix's mouth found his nipple, teasing it with gentle flicks of his tongue, Jisung moaned, arching into the touch.

"Felix, please," Jisung gasped, his fingers digging into Felix's shoulders. "I need you."

Felix's eyes met his, dark and intense. "I've got you," he promised, his voice low and fervent. "Just let me take care of you."

Jisung nodded, surrendering himself to Felix's touch. Felix's kisses trailed lower, leaving a path of heat in their wake. When he reached Jisung's waistband, he paused, looking up for permission.

Jisung's answer was to lift his hips, helping Felix remove the last barrier between them. Felix's breath hitched at the sight of Jisung laid bare before him, vulnerable and trusting.

"You're beautiful," Felix whispered, his voice filled with awe. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Jisung's hip. "So beautiful."

Jisung's response was a shuddering breath, his fingers threading through Felix's hair. Felix's mouth moved lower, his kisses becoming more fervent, more insistent. When he finally took Jisung in his mouth, the sensation was overwhelming.

"Felix!" Jisung gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily. The pleasure was almost too much, a white-hot intensity that made his mind spin. Felix's hands held him steady, guiding him through the waves of sensation.

Felix's mouth worked with a skill that left Jisung breathless, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. When Jisung felt himself teetering on the brink, he tugged at Felix's hair, pulling him up for a kiss that was desperate and needy.

"I need you inside me," Jisung whispered against Felix's lips. "Please, Lix. I need you."

Felix's eyes darkened with desire, and he nodded, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Okay, Ji. Okay."

"Relax, Ji," Felix whispered, his voice soothing as he squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jisung nodded, his trust in Felix absolute. He spread his legs, opening himself up to Felix's touch. Felix's fingers were careful and deliberate as they prepared Jisung, each movement slow and controlled to ensure Jisung's comfort. The initial intrusion was met with a sharp intake of breath from Jisung, but he quickly adjusted, his body relaxing under Felix's ministrations.

Felix's free hand stroked Jisung's thigh, his touch a grounding presence. "You're doing great, Ji," he murmured, his eyes locked onto Jisung's face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

Felix moved with a deliberate slowness, the careful preparation intensifying the anticipation between them. His fingers worked gently but insistently, each touch drawing soft whimpers from Jisung. The sounds of his need filled the room, a symphony of whines and gasps that only fueled Felix’s determination to drive him wild.

“Felix, please," Jisung whimpered, his hips moving restlessly. "I can't wait anymore."

"Patience, Ji," Felix murmured, though his own voice was strained with desire. "I want you to be ready."

Jisung's response was a high-pitched whine, his back arching off the bed. "I'm ready, Lix. I need you now.”

When Felix deemed Jisung ready, he withdrew his fingers, reaching for the condom. Jisung watched him with half-lidded eyes, his anticipation building with every passing second. Felix rolled the condom on with practiced ease, applying more lube before positioning himself at Jisung's entrance.

"Ready?" Felix asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jisung nodded, his eyes full of trust and desire. "Yes, Lix. I'm ready.".

He locked eyes with Jisung, searching for any last sign of hesitation. Seeing only desperate need reflected back at him, he pressed forward, slowly entering Jisung. The initial stretch drew a sharp cry from Jisung, his fingers clutching at Felix's shoulders, nails digging in as he adjusted to the intrusion.

The sensation was overwhelming—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that made Jisung’s head spin. His breath hitched, his chest heaving as he struggled to accommodate Felix's size. But the discomfort was quickly overshadowed by a growing wave of pleasure, each inch driving him closer to the edge.

"Move, Lix," Jisung pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please, I need more."

Felix began to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first, giving Jisung time to adjust. But the pace quickly grew more urgent, the need to be closer, to feel more, overtaking them both. Jisung’s legs wrapped around Felix's waist, pulling him deeper, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Felix," Jisung moaned, his voice high and needy. "Oh god, you feel so good. So good."

Felix groaned in response, his movements becoming more forceful. "You're perfect. So perfect."

They moved together in a frantic rhythm, their bodies seeking an intimacy that went beyond the physical. Each thrust, each touch, was a reaffirmation of their connection, a silent promise that they were in this together. Jisung's hands roamed over Felix's back, his nails leaving red trails in their wake. Every movement, every sound, drove them both higher, their need for each other consuming them.

Jisung's whimpers turned to cries of pleasure, his body trembling with each powerful thrust. The pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, every nerve ending alive with sensation. "Lix," he gasped, his voice breaking with need. "I'm so close. Please, don't stop."

Felix’s response was a growl of determination. "I've got you, Ji. I'm not stopping."

With a final, powerful thrust, Felix drove them both over the edge. Jisung's cry of release was loud and desperate, his body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over him. Felix followed moments later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried his face in Jisung's neck, their bodies trembling together in the aftermath.

They collapsed together, their bodies slick with sweat and trembling with the aftershocks of their release. Felix remained inside Jisung, their breaths mingling as they held each other close, the intimacy of the moment grounding them both.

Jisung’s fingers threaded through Felix’s hair, his touch gentle, soothing. "That was..." he began, but words failed him.

"Incredible," Felix finished for him, his voice filled with awe and contentment.

They lay there in the quiet aftermath, their bodies still entangled. Jisung felt a profound sense of peace settle over him, his heart swelling with affection for the boy in his arms. Felix had become more than just a friend, more than just a comfort. He was Jisung’s anchor, his safe haven.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, Felix pressed a soft kiss to Jisung’s forehead. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Jisung nodded, a contented smile on his lips. "More than okay," he replied. "That was... perfect."

Felix smiled, his eyes filled with warmth. "Yeah, it was," he agreed, pulling Jisung closer. "I'm glad we have each other, Ji."

"Me too, Lix," Jisung said softly, his heart full. "Me too."

They lay there in the afterglow, their bodies entwined and their hearts full. In the quiet of their hotel room, they had found something precious: a connection that went beyond words, a bond that made them feel whole.

As they drifted off to sleep, Jisung felt a sense of peace settle over him. No matter what the future held, he knew they would face it together. And that was enough.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9 @queer-possum @james-is-here @slutforchanlix

And also those who loved the jilix thoughts: @antisocial-socialbutterfly @sleeplessstupidfinch @babybearcubbs @stayp1ece143

[thewalkingthread]

"I've been thinking" - D.D.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader

summary: After witnessing how good Daryl takes care of Judith and RJ, you think it's about time y'all have one of your own.

warning: fluff

a/n: I love soft Daryl.

You and Daryl had been through more than your fair share of hardships, having faced the trials of the apocalypse together. Your bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, after the war in Commonwealth settled, you and your community found a place to call home. Despite the chaos of the world outside, you had finally had a semblance of peace and security among friends, new and old. Hell- you guys even had a dog now.

It was sunny today, Judith and RJ ran around on the street with some of the other kids. They screamed and hollered as they played tag, a heart melting smile spread across their faces. Just kids being kids.

You and Daryl sat on the front porch of your house with Dog. Daryl's crossbow rested against the wall as he sharpened the points of his arrows. You watched the kids, you had a smile that mirrored their contagious ones.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, his voice soft, he glanced at you briefly before he continued to work on his arrows.

You nod your head, your eyes still fixated on the kids. "I've been thinking,"

"That can't be good," Daryl scoffed, teasingly. You roll your eyes, reaching over and bumping his shoulder with your fist. "Bout wha?" He asks.

You shrug your shoulders, glancing down at the glass of water in your hands. "The future." You said simply.

Daryl looked up, curiosity evident in his stormy blue eyes. "The future, huh? What's on your mind?" He placed the arrow on the table, giving you his undivided attention.

"Well," You began, a faint blush coloring their cheeks, "I've been thinking about this for a while, but it never seemed like the right time. I mean these past few years have been so... crazy." You wince.

"But now, everything feels right. We're safe. Here, in commonwealth. The kids are safe here, we've got something good going. Something real." You hated saying it, knowing you felt the exact same way with the prison, with Alexandria. I don't think anywhere in this world would ever be safe, but here felt like it.

"We've been dealt some shitty cards. With Rick and Michonne gone, we've basically been given all their responsibility. I know we have to lead these people. I know we have to keep Jude and RJ safe. But I can't help but notice how great you are with Judith and RJ. You're a natural, Daryl. We take care of them like they're our own and-" Your voice trails off, losing the confidence to finish.

"Spit it out, woman." He grunts, staring into your eyes knowingly.

"I want to expand our family... Have one of our own?" You raise an eyebrow, "I wouldn't mind a little Dixon running around."

Daryl paused, his hands grasping yours. He looked at you with the softest eyes, his heart swelling with love and tenderness. "You serious?"

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "Yeah, Daryl. I am. I think we're ready. I mean you're obviously going to be one hell of a dad."

Daryl's rough exterior couldn't hide the softness that your words had brought out in him. He scooted closer to you, holding both of your hands tightly in his. "You really think that?"

You smiled, your love for Daryl shining in your eyes. You've been with Daryl from the beginning. Him and Merle found you alone in a convenient store the day everything went to shit. After months of pining over each other you finally bit the bullet at the prison and made it official. Though the two of you been through hell the past 10 years you're here, together.

"Absolutely. I've seen the way you protect and care for those kids, the way you take care of me. It makes my heart ache with how much I love you. We're building something here. I want to start a family with you."

Daryl leaned in, capturing your lips with a tender kiss. It felt just like it did the first time all those years ago. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's do it. We'll make it work, no matter what. Us against the world. The way it's always been."

His arms wrapped around your body and pulled your close to him.

"Are you two okay?" Judith's voice caused the two of you to pull away from each other. Her eyebrow was raised suspiciously at you two. You and Daryl both burst into a fit of chuckles.

"How would you feel helping Auntie Y/N out with a baby?" Daryl's voice was scuffed. Judith's eyes just about popped out as she jumped into y'alls lap.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She cheered. "About time!" She laughed. Dog barked, oblivious to what was happening but happy to see everyone happy.

You and Daryl exchanged amused glances. Deep down inside you both knew you'd be okay. Whatever happened next, you'd handle it together.

[hydrangeapartridge]

Overindulging (EmmRook short fic)

Summary: Emmrich gets upset because he put on a little weight. Rook is here to reassure him.

The first part is mostly sfw, I signaled the moment we switch to a more heated (E-rated) exchange, please mind it.

Part of my EmmRook post game (so may contain spoilers) short-fics found here on AO3 (or on my blog with the Emmrich x Rook tag).

Rook was absentmindedly getting dressed when a very highpitched, scandalized noise startled her. It wasn’t coming from veyr far away, and she only needed to turn around to find Emmrich staring intently at his midsection, his fingers frozen over the buttons of the waistcoat he was fastening. It was his favourite one, the green one with the golden buttons.

« Darling » He called out to her, distress clear in his voice. He looked up to meet her eyes, sadness mixed with frustration in his warm brown gaze. « It doesn’t fit anymore » He stated, and indeed, Rook could see the first two buttons were fastened but the effort of it was dangerously straining the fabric. As for the last one, it would be impossible to fasten without tearing the lovely piece of clothing and ruining it.

« Well I suppose you’ll have to wear another one » Rook offered with an apologetic smile. She was ever the optimistic one of the two.

Emmrich sighed in defeat, undoing the hardly fastened buttons in a smooth gesture. However right it was, his lover’s proposition, and the implications behind his failure at getting dressed didn’t sit well with the watcher.

« I knew I had gained a little weight, there are always ups and downs in a year. But I’ve owned this waistcoat for decades and it always fit » He complained, pained and irritated. « Now I’ll have to get my entire wardrobe mended and ajusted... »

Rook stepped closer to her lover and placed a tender hand on his elbow to try and pull him out of the spiral of negativity he was losing himself into.

His slight increase in waist circumference wasn’t a surprise, for they had probably overindulged in the last months when it came to food. Emmrich took a sabbatical so they could undertake a journey around Thedas to reconnect with their former companions of the Veilguard, and check on the reconstruction of the cities destroyed by the Blight.

Those long weeks turned months had been a wonderful succession of heartwarming reunions, all of which of course around generous amounts of food and drinks. Rook and Emmrich had been delighted to discuss with their friends while sharing large meals made of the most delicious dishes, whether grilled, or fried, or covered in rich sauces, as well as around tea-times assorted with the softest buttery and flaky pastry. And not to forget the syrupy wines and bittersweet cocktail. Emmrich wasn’t known for his gluttony, but he still really enjoyed a good meal, as well as the cultural enlightment of discovering local dishes. On the way home, he kept reminiscing the taste of the famous llomerryn red sauce from Rivain or the Gnocchi from Antiva.

Pair that with a hectic schedule preventing them from exercising as they usually did, and you got a few more pounds.

It was nothing too serious. Rook herself had gained a little chub around the thighs and waist, but she understood Emmrich’s concerns. He liked to look clean and sharp, and had a strong taste for elegant fashion. All his clothes were also tailor-made and cost a pretty penny, which was an investment he made for the long run. He took very good care of his belongings and she could see why it would upset him to be forced to have them remade.

Rook gently squeezed Emmrich’s elbow. “I’m sure there is no need to come to that yet. A little more exercise and lighter meals should do the trick. You’ll be back in shape in no time”

She tried to reassure him, but Emmrich wasn’t having any of it. He placed a hand over his stomach and squeezed the fat there though the fabric of his expensive white shirt, then clicked his tongue. “I fear it won’t be that simple. Each year staying fit becomes more and more challenging. I’m getting limp and my skin will only keep sagging until I all wrinkled and flaccid. I’ll gradually wilt before your very eyes darling, this is only the start”

Oh.

So that’s what this was about.

Emmrich had partially made peace with his mortality when he brought back Manfred, and he had accepted that Rook loved him and wanted to be with him on the long run despite their difference in age. However his fears and insecurities resurfaced from time to time.

Rook’s heart sank in her chest and she pressed herself against her lover, circling her amrs around his waist, hoping her presence would comfort him better than words would. From experience, she kew that when he was in this state, there was no reasoning with him; no appealing to his usual logic. The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight because of such a trivial problem. Well, trivial to her. They already did fight several times because she brushed off his heartfelt concerns too casually and now she knew better than to lose her temper over this.

Emmrich grew silent, and soon, he hugged Rook back, the palms of his hands pressing against her back.

They stayed in this embrace for a while, Rook listening to his heart while he breathed in the familiar smell of her hair.

“You know I’ll always love you” Rook promised against his chest, and she heard his resulting deep, shaky exhale close to her ear.

“I know darling” He sighed. “It is not my intention to question that… but sometimes it feels surreal” he kissed her temple before he continued. “And sometimes I cannot help but regret that we didn’t meet sooner, or that I wasn’t born later”

Rook looked up to meet his misty gaze, a bittersweet smile on her face. “I understand that sentiment. But I believe things were meant to be this way. I am glad we even got to meet each other. And survived to enjoy the rest”

“Of course, you are absolutely right dearest. I wouldn’t have it any other way” Emmrich caressed her cheek, craddling it in his warm palm. “But the human heart can be weak, and mine is particularly prone to that kind of longing”

Rook nuzzled into his touch “That’s part of why I love you” She stood on her tiptoes, and whispered against his lips “I never hoped to meet such a romantic soul”

She kissed him then, soft and gentle, and he reverently kissed back, both of his hands holding her face like a precious treasure he feared would escape him.

When they pulled back, Rook let the hand that was pressed to his chest travel to his navel. She eyed his reaction carefully, assessing his consent, checking that her touch on the part of him he criticized was still welcomed.

Emmrich didn’t protest, but the attention made him shy, still a bit self conscious, and he distracted himself by replacing a stray lock of hair behind Rook’s ear.

“You are still the most dashing necromancer around you know” Rook said, her usual bright tone returning to her. “And you won’t be alone in your effort. I’ll help. I have a few pounds to lose too”

Emmrich let out an incredulous huff. “Darling there is no need for you to do that. You are simply perfect. Marvelously beautiful as always”

Rook raised an accusing eyebrow and gave him a chastising look which silenced him immediately. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Rook splayed her fingers moree firmly over Emmrich’s lower stomach. “You know, I’m thinking of a pleasant way of exercising…” She whispered wickedly as her hand traveled lower. “I’m sure it burns a lot of fat”

She pressed her palm against Emmrich’s crotch and he let out a small breathy moan.

“Darling, we were just getting dressed” He protested, but only for the principle of it, his voice lacking any resolve.

Rook hummed “But since you were dissatisfied with your clothes, I think it’s better if you don’t wear them at all”

And so Emmrich was quickly convinced to indulge in a different kind of pleasure.

E-RATING STARTING HERE

After a few heated kisses, and unbutonning his shirt, Rook swiftly fell to her knees in front of Emmrich. Without hesitation, she untucked his crisp shirt from his flannel pants first. Her hand deliberatelly brushed his clothed growing erection before she set on undoing the buttons of his trousers.

“Darling” Emmrich tried to grab her attention and she hummed in response but didn’t stop. “As much as I enjoy the view and the promise of your attention, I fail to see how this counts as exercising on my part”

Rook gave his still clothed erection a gentle kiss through the fabric of his underwear. “Consider it a warm up” She hummed “And a way to show you how much I adore every part of you”

Emmrich let out a languid sigh. His fingers moved to brush against her cheek, and played with the hair there while she pulled his pants and underwear enough to find the most sensitive part of him. “Whatever pleases you my dear” He breathed in that lower voice that was reserved just for her; just for these moments shared between them in intimacy. He always ended up indulging her.

Rook took him in one hand, and splayed the fingers of the other over Emmrich’s stomach. She started stroking him to full hardness, while reverantly exploring the dip of his waist, and the more recent softeness of his belly, where a trail of dark hair led to his growing desire. She loved to touch him. Emmrich was a generous lover and was always the one to insist on how gorgeous she was and to focus on making sure of her pleasure. She desperately wanted to reciprocate the favour. Besides, she knew from experience that for all his composure and restreint, a teasing from the mouth should rile him up enough that he would then be most enclined to bend her over any avalaible surface and take her most ardently.

Emmrich’s self consciousness over his stomach became the last of his concerns when she stopped stroking him and started leaving opened mouth kisses on the length of him. He gasped and moaned when she proceeded to take him between her sinful lips, caressing the part that she couldn’t fit in yet between a few fingers.

Rook moaned around him when she felt his hand carefully grab the back of her head, holding ontop her hair without pressure to ground himself and help guide her. She increased the pace of her ministrations as Emmrich’s voice joined the lewd wet noises she was making. True to himself, he kept praising her, complimenting her skills, singing praises of her beauty as she worshipped him with her mouth.

This was incredibly pleasant, but not quite what she had in mind. She pulled away to catch her breath, lazily stroking him instead, the glide made easy from her saliva and his excitement. Her other hand cupped his balls, her heel pressing into his perineum until he was left breathless and flustered. She then moved to squeeze his naked bottom, a part of him that she enjoyed very much indeed. The number of times she was distracted by that ass back in the lighthouse she couldn’t count on the fingers of two hands.

Now that she had rendered Emmrich silent but for ragged whimpers, it was her turn to talk.

“My heart, you focus on the front of your body because that is the first thing you see. But know that the sight of your backside would make anyone both jealous and enticed” She murmured before giving his tip a quick suck, earning a strangled “Darling” from him.

She squeezed his bottom again for good mesure, giving it a small swat as if to make her point “I have seen the way people look at it. Makes me want to burn their eyes in their sockets”

“Darling,I’m sure that’s no-” Emmrich tried to say between heavy pants but interrupted himself, completely losing his train of thoughts when Rook took him into her mouth again, as deep as possible.

Rook smiled around him, prood that she rendered him silent. She used her now both free hands to grab at his backside firmly, using her hold as leverage to try and take him even deeper with each bob of her head.

Emmrich’s hand tightened in her hair, and she moaned delightfully in tune to her lover’s half hearted and whimpered pleas for her to slow down. She could tell that Emmrich was using the last threads of his self control not to thrust into her throat at his own rythm. His thighs were clenching, his knees buckling, she could tell he was losing it.

He was close. But this was far from over yet.

After a wicked swirl of her tongue around him, Rook pulled back, earning a distraught whine from her lover.

She barely wipped her mouth before she got up and proceeded to quickly take off her clothes. Emmrich’s gaze followed the reveal of her bare skin with a distinct hunger. For a second she had rendered him lost as what to do with himself. He stood before her, painfully hard and half dressed, panting and flushed. He looked ravishing; and she wouldn’t give him the leisure of regaining the composure she worked so hard to break.

Rook quickly stepped back into his arms, pressing her naked form flush against his body.

“I think you’ve warmed up enough” She said against his lips, her hand caressing his chest where his shirt was opened. He tried to follow after her lips but she pulled away, instead hiking one leg up his hip. Emmrich’s scattered brain had mere seconds to gather what was expected of him before Rook jumped into his arms, wrapping her beautiful legs around his narrow waist. Emmrich caught her of course, his hands coming to support her backside while she anchored her arms behind his neck.

“Now it is your turn to do all the work” Rook teased, but Emmrich complied.

“Gladly” He breathed before he crashed his lips into Rook’s, his usual finesse lost in the turmoil of his desire.

Rook’s shorter and lighter figure was easy to carry for Emmrich, who possessed more muscles than would be expected of a scholar. In his endevour to age as well as possible, he had adopted a healthy lifestyle consisting of a balanced diet and a lot of exercise. The watcher valued physical form as much as a keen intellect. To fight the rebellious undead of the Necropolis, one needed to stay in shape. Also, Rook learned when they met that necromancers from Nevarra enjoyed friendly tornaments of battle magic and took pride in winning them if possible. Emmrich had his pride, and trained so he would easily prevail if a student or colleague dared challenge him.

Rook remembered feeling both surprised and weirdly aroused the first time Emmrich twisted the limbs of a Venatori cultist with a florish of his wrist, and then proceeded to send him flying with a powerful strike of his heavy staff. To think she first considered him a delicate scholar when they met, and even hesitated bringing him to the field. How wrong she had been, and how she then had put that strength to good use.

Rook wasn’t too heavy, but to perform the activities they had fallen into, they needed more stability. While he kept kissing his lover, Emmrich walked to the nearest wall and proceeded to carefully press Rook’s back against it. The support the wall offered allowed him to free one of his hands. He held Rook around the waist with one arm, and while his lips went down to explore the delicious column of her neck, his free hand traced a path from her clavicle to her breast, where he focused his attention. He squeezed and pressed just the way she liked, without forgetting to give attention to her already erected nipple. Rook’s head fell back into the wall as an abandonned moan escaped her lips when his mouth replaced his fingers on her chest. In an impressive exercise of multi-tasking and balance, Emmrich’s hand travelled lower, testing the state of arousal of his lover. She could see the bicep of the arm holding her tensing under the strain of her weight, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight. That sight only could have made her ready for him.

To only Emmrich’s surprise, Rook was soaking wet already. He collected some moisture on his index finger still, and proceeded to pet her clit for good mesure. Rook closed her eyes under his expert ministrations, but she shook her head when he started teasing her folds and her entrance.

“Please my heart, I need you now”

To think she planned on being the patient one today. Emmrich’s lips traveled back to her neck, then cheek, and stopped to kiss and nip at her sensitive ear.

“Who am to deny you when you find yourself in such distress dearest” He purred, low and assertive before he blew on her wet and tender ear, making her gasp and shamelessly grind against his erection.

Rook admired the display of Emmrich’s strength as he repositionned her to align her center with his aching need. She was vulnerable and opened, her legs brought up against the inside of his elbow, her ankles thrown over his shoulders and her weight supported by both the wall and Emmrich’s long fingers grabbing her hip dips, her lower back mostly fitting into his large palms.

He entered her slowly, making sure she was comfortable. The sight was delightfully exciting: Emmrich still half dressed taking her naked form, the muscles of his broad shoulders and of his arms flexing to hold her in place as he penetrated her.

A first tentative thrust and then Emmrich pressed flush against Rook, bending her in half and trapping her against the wall while his cock caressed her insides. She felt impossibly full and deliciously stretched, forced to take him without moving; losing the ability to form a coherent sentence from the raw pleasure of it all.

Rook’s moans were loud and unrestrained as Emmrich took her against the wall, deep and slow. Even when pent up, he still was one to make groundbreaking love and not copulate like animals. He did slip a few times however, thrusting harder as he lost a bit of control the more Rook tightened and gushed around him.

Tears wet her eyelashes from how good it all felt, the sensations heightened by the praises Emmrich’s velvet tongue kept drowning her in. He breathily told her about the marvelous display she offered, akin to a nymph straight from an Orlesian painting; a perfect portrayal of a godess of pleasure and lushness. He fed her poetry as sweet as honey while ravishing her with impossibly accurate assaults of her most sensitive places, reaching impossibly deep in this position.

Rook left herself get lost in the pleasure he offered, and soon, as he told her he would hold her like this forever, make love to her endlessly, she choked on trying to tell him how much she loved him, whimpering instead while clenching down on him like a vice, coming around him in a raw display of bliss, tears of ecstasy rolling down her cheeks.

Gradually, Emmrich slowed down until his hips came to a stop. He reclined a little and pressed a few amourous kisses on Rook’s wet cheeks.

Rook’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly when she regained the ability the think properly. Her previously hazy eyes found Emmrich’s warm brown ones.

“I love you” She whispered in a laboured breath as if it was the most important and fitting conclusion to this exchange.

Emmrich chuckled, amused and proud of himself for rendering Rook almost speechless “I love you too dearest”

He released her trembling legs so she could get them around his waist again. She hugged him tight while he held her by two hands under her backside, gently rocking her until she regained her footing.

After a while, Rook perked up, blinking away the haze in her mind only to realize something. She looked between them, where he was still hard against her. “You didn’t-” She started, looking to Emmrich. “What about you?” She asked, dejected. She wanted this to be about him and it ended up being about her again.

Emmrich’s chuckle was low and pleasing to her ears. “I believe I ought to prolonge the effort for the exercise to truly be efficient on burning calories.” He said, a mysterious smile on his thin lips. “A ratio of three to one should suffice for today don’t you think?”

Rook blinked owlishly. She had no clue what he was talking about.

Emmrich let her think about it, amused by her airheaded state. He took a step back, then turned and walked to their bed where he carefully dropped Rook on her backside on the silken covers.

“What ratio are we talking about?” Rook asked as Emmrich caught her leg by the ankle and brought it to his lips for a tender kiss to her malleolus.

“Orgasms of course darling. One for me after three for you” Emmrich replied like it was the most obvious of things. His assertive brown gaze pinned Rook down, making her feel like a meal on display. “If you’d be kind enough to help me keep on exercising of course” He added lowly, in that tone that made her wet without being touched.

Rook inhaled sharply, feeling herself ready to go again. She couldn’t possibly refuse such an offer.

“Well, I did say I’d help…”

[soupbabe]

Marrying La Squadra Headcanons

Anon asked: What would married life with la squadrons look like?❤️

Hihi!! Thank you for requesting, I had a lot of fun with these 😅😅 though I'll admit I lingered on the wedding back stories a bit too much lol

Formaggio

- Formaggio never in his life thought he'd be married, he always dreamed of living a bachelor lifestyle

- But y'know...sometimes couples get drunk on special anniversary trips and impulsively get married at a cheap, tourist trap chapel in Vegas

- Formaggio would've loved the stereotypical Elvis impersonator officiamt

- The morning after would've been a bit hectic on his end, but Formaggio is a man who can commit

- He's been thinking about taking the proper steps to marry you anyways, as long as you were fine with the night prior there's no harm done!

- The marriage is a secret for a while, to the team it's as if nothing changed. Your new husband was just as clingy and doting as ever

- I think if weddings are an important part of your culture and something you'd really want to do-over, I think Formaggio isn't opposed to something more formal and traditional

- Though I think he'll always prefer to tell people the story of the shotgun wedding in Vegas, definitely makes him feel cooler

Illuso

- I think Illuso is similar to Formaggio, he never thought to be "tied down" to anyone, but meeting you absolutely changed his mind

- One word to describe Illuso: Bridezilla. He wanted everything to be perfect for the wedding, he might've been the most strict during this era

- I'm sure you had to talk Illuso out of having the wedding in the mirror world because he could control everything. Though after the wedding, he started to come down to his normal self

- The clingiest and softest you've ever seen him was during the honeymoon

- Illuso wouldn't stop calling you his husband/wife/spouse, he wouldn't stop referring to himself with your last name

- Being married you was something he didn't know he needed

- Illuso wears his ring like a badge of honor, he enjoys seeing the silver band that decorates your finger that tells everyone that you belong to him

- Every time he wakes up and you both have to leave for work, he makes sure to kiss your ring before he says goodbye

Prosciutto

- To no one's surprise, Prosciutto easily adjusted to the idea of marriage and the married life

- He can be tender and affectionate, of course he wasn't scared of spending the rest of his life with you.

- Prosciutto would prefer something small, only wanting close family to attend

- Absolutely he would be open to having separate or fusion weddings if you come from a different background. He'd have a lot of enjoyment sharing your traditions with you

- There's so much more confidence within the relationship, Prosciutto smiles when you brag about your husband. A smirk graces his lips when he can hold you by the waist and introduce you as his spouse

- It's very natural for Prosciutto to fall into a house husband role, he loves unwinding in the kitchen and cooking dinners for you

- Even in the honeymoon, he'd scoff at restaurant food and insist he could provide you with something better

- He's an ideal husband if you want to get pampered and recreate the classy romance you see in the movies.

Pesci

- Getting married to you was the scariest and the happiest moment of his life

- Pesci stumbled through the novel that was his vows, when he was able to kiss you he couldn't help himself and pulled you in with anxious excitement

- Even when he proposed, Prosciutto slapped his face and told him to man up before he pulled out the ring

- Like his brother, he prefers something smaller. He wants the moment to be intimate, private

- He cried so much ever since you two married

- Half the honeymoon was spent hugging him and reassuring him that yes, you two really are married, and yes, you really do love him that much

- Marriage or not, he's still just as shy and flustered since you met him. Doesn't matter how tough he tries to act

Melone

- Melone never really thought about marriage before, but it's a welcomed surprise

- I just know that when he got to kiss you during the ceremony, it made everyone instantly uncomfortable/j. He does not care about what others think, he just likes to show you how much he loves

- He absolutely uses the title of husband to his advantage, especially for silly things like pda.

- The honeymoon phase never actually ended for him

- As you two are further in the marriage, the more Melone starts to think about kids

- No secret he's good with them, Babyface has given him more than enough practice

- But having an actual, human baby? Oh it has him all giddy and anxious

- For the first time, you actually see him take a situation seriously. Whether you're giving birth or having a baby through alternative means, he doesn't want to have kids unless you know you're ready too

Ghiaccio

- I don't think marriage ever crossed Ghiaccio's mind growing up. Meeting and falling in love with you opened up so many doors

- It definitely scared him, if you weren't on the other end of the aisle waiting for him, he would've become a runaway groom

- Ghiaccio would so go off and rant about how nothing much has changed ever since you two got married. To him it's just "some name change and extra paper work"

- He'd say that he doesn't feel any different, but that's so far from the truth

- Tease him by calling him your husband, call him by your last name, and watch how his face turns pink and he tries to hide a smile

- It takes the longest for Ghiaccio to settle into married life. I'm not sure it fully registered to him how long you and him have been together

- He never thought he would be loved the way you love him. No matter how hard he pushed people away, you stayed and warmed his heart <33

- That being said never joke about divorce it'd freak him out. He'd cry.

Risotto Nero

- The married life with Risotto is special, as it brings out a completely different side of the capo

- May be an unpopular opinion, but Risotto is right up there with Illuso when it comes to being a Bridezilla

- All he cares about is adhering to your plans. He'll go above and beyond for research to make sure you won't get scammed

- Like yeah. He may have threatened the florist behind your back, but like. What was he supposed to do? The florist was the one trying to pass off rhododendrons as hydrangeas.

- But once the wedding is over, he's exhausted and looking forward to the honeymoon

- Solidifying the marriage made Risotto fully let down his walls around you. He smiles more, he's more physically affectionate, he lets you know that he belongs to you too.

- While you two try to keep chores and tasks equal, swapping out who does what, it's hard to deny that Risotto loves it when it's your job to cook

- He thinks it's adorable when you tie an apron around your waist, roll up your sleeves and get to work.

[saphiccarma]

Hi, i hope your doing well. I have a idea for a angst fanfic of Agatha x reader where they've been dating since they were both like 17 and have basically gone though everything together. And because the reader is known for not liking kids that much she convinces reader to let her have q child with Rio (I'm pretty sure her having Nicky with Rio is canon but im really sorry if it's not) Anyway, reader give off aunt vibes to Nicky and then after he dies Agatha is not okay and just becomes emotionally abusive for a while but they work it out then move to Westview and then WandaVision happens and then by the end of the road they finally work it all out bit then Agatha dies. And everyone leaves her and it's just really sad.

- Hold on, I still want you

Relationships: Agatha Harkeness x Reader

Summary: You had known Agatha for the longest time and it was good, it really was, but the two of you had your complications and no matter how hard you tried it never worked out just right.

Warnings: ANGST, sexual inneudos ig, mainly just angst.

A/N: I wrote this at like 2 fucking am so I apologise for any mistakes lmao

You had met Agatha when you were young, learning the basics of magic and fumbling through the steps. Agatha came to you with her honeyed voice, deep and alluring, as she guided you through the steps. Her words lulled you into a sense of peace. She smelled of strong spices and amber. And despite her dark appearance, she had a serious case of baby face that you adored. From her sparkling blue eyes, the color of light sapphire, to her slightly round cheeks that turned a faint shade of peek when she acted annoyed. You loved it all.

You were part of the plan to help her escape from her mother. You snuck her scrolls, dark ones that you had access through because of your mother. She contained a lot of old spells and didn't let anyone view them but you. Little did you know that they were ones that held instructions to use forbidden magic. Agatha told you it was so that she could build a perfect life for the two of you. She wanted only to help you and her. Not only that, but she wanted to help the world, make it a better place.

Looking back, it was foolish to believe her.

She would place tender kisses on your lips, "I love you." Before pulling back and spending hours bent over the written spells. Some days you would spend with her, your back aching and eyes blurry, but you loved it. Despite her harsh words at times, you still cared for her. She shared that same deep adoration, that deep sense of love too, you knew it. A deep fire sizzled in your heart and there was something that told you felt the same.

At night, against her parents’ discretion, Agatha proved it to you. With whispered words in your ear, her fingers buried deep in your cunt as she drew obscene sounds out of you, and her lips and teeth grazing against her neck. Your hands clawed into her back, arching off the bed as you reached your edge, and you came with a stuttered moan. Then Agatha would leave, nearly right after, only staying for a moment to make sure you were okay. The two of you couldn't get caught by her mother after all. Or your mother for that matter.

You pretended it didn't hurt. It didn't. That was only a precaution, just like not showing physical affection around others was just to be safe. You still stole lingering glances, staring at her dark blue dress and brown hair that draped down her shoulders. And sometimes her eyes met yours, filled with pure care that melted your heart. It was all worth it. The relationship may be private, but you still felt the love that pulsed through your shared moments.

One night, in the cold air that flowed between the trees, with Agatha's arms wrapped around you, her face buried in your neck.

"Do you ever want kids?" she whispered, her tone light and airy, the softest you ever heard it. Your chest tightened at the thought because fact was, you didn't. You wanted to do anything for Agatha, despite your own fears. Children were never your thing.

You didn't hate them, per say, but they weren't your favorite. They were clingy and needy. Most of all, they were fragile. Simple little things that needed protection and someone to care for them. You didn't think you could be that person, ever, so you avoided them like the plague. It was better to never get to know how fun that could be.

"I don't know," you mumbled, turning around before she could reply. You placed a tender kiss to her lips that only deepened from there. It wasn't long before your dress was slipping off your shoulders and her legs were trapping you beneath her. Heat flushed your cheeks from the meaningful kisses she pressed to your neck and lips and shoulders all the way down to your collarbones. The moment was about to become something more until you heard a rustling in the trees.

The two of you snapped apart, Agatha scrambling off your lap, but it was too late. Magic swirled around your wrists, holding you even as you tried to move. Some of the other witches stood at the edge of the clearing, their hands raised as they cast the spell that bound you, and then they moved to grab onto Agatha once you were secure. For some odd reason, you girlfriend didn't even move.

It was hours later when she came back to you, still bound to the tree. When she came back there was something different about her. She felt...strange, powerful. The power radiated from her in waves, flowing like a fresh river that never stopped flowing. That's when you felt it. Death trailed behind her peaceful, quite literally. Not just metaphorically, but literally.

Death was objectively pretty. Her hair was dark brown like Agatha's, a color deep like the dirt in the most flattering way possible, and it matched her black dress. Her ribs were showcased through her clothing, smooth skin on view for everyone to see. Well, anyone who was able to see her. Eyes shimmering with mischief, she spoke with light words, almost teasing while she looked you up and down.

That was the start of your odd connection with Death.

Agatha told you all about what happened. Her coven tried to kill her, and she had the ability to take other witches' magic. It worried you, but it didn't deter your love for her. This was only the start to decline of your relationship. Not that you understood that at the time.

The two of you bounced around, never staying in one place for two long, people were aware of Agatha's little stunt now. Word spread of the coven killer, the young girl, only seventeen, who had killed her entire coven. That scared other witches, and the two of you were too nervous to join another. You never asked why they tried to kill Agatha. She never explained. All you knew was it as unjust and she didn't deserve to be killed. That was all she told you.

Death came to visit once Agatha killed more people. Deep down you knew she was hungry for power, and in reality, you knew that all along, you just refused to believe it. You never cared much for power, but Agatha did. So, you let her have what she wanted and in return you had a happy relationship. The three of you formed an odd sort of bond that was shared. You learned Death had a name, and her name was Rio. Rio revealed she had the power to create life as well as take it. For her, it went both ways.

"What if I had a kid with her?" Agatha asked you as the two of you stood over dead bodies, just a few other witches killed. A common occurrence by now. You blinked at her, more shocked at that than the wrinkled people who lay below you, and you licked your lips slowly. It was an absurd idea. Was she proposing she have a relationship with Rio? As if reading your mind, a sly smirk spread across her lips, "Not to have a relationship with her sweet girl, what if I just asked her to use her magic and we could have a kid."

"Who's we?" Your voice was skeptical as you asked the question, hands tucked into your pockets as you rocked back and forth on your toes.

There was a slight pause on Agatha's end, "All three of us. Rio would deserve a connection with the kid and so would you."

And so, Agatha had a kid with Rio, and you were sort of sidelined. Not completely, Agatha still loved you, but you could tell that she felt something for Rio too. And there was nothing you could do. Agatha was all you had. Your mother was gone, your father unknown like most witch kids, and all you had was Agatha. You would be nothing without her.

In all honesty you didn't mind it. Not entirely. (That was a lie, you really did mind it.) Oddly enough, Nicholas made it all worth it with his bright smiles and little laughs. He wasn't your child, not even in the slightest way, based on the way you avoided him for the first few months. Those few months that were paid for. Nicholas's life didn't come for free - the price being other people's life and Agatha had to pay it.

Rio was truly sorrowful, but there was nothing she could do, not when she took life as much as she created it. Regardless, she stuck around as much as possible. She couldn't stay for long unless she wanted Nicholas to die.

Slowly, the bond between you and Nicholas grew, as much as you didn't think it would happen. He lured you in with his dark brown eyes and hair that grew out at a rapid pace. Even with his sick state, he would laugh at your little jokes, and whenever you tickled his sides. He was a bright light in the otherwise dark world. One thing you found interesting was that he was so unlike his mother. She had dark eyes that bore into every little thing, analyzing it all. But Nicky, the nickname you gave him, looked at the world with a childlike innocence and a different view. You adored it.

You hated the fat that his death was slow, so slow and probably painful. Yet there was nothing you could do to help him. You tried different spells, experimenting with different spells and potions but none of them worked. When it eventually came, you cried along with Agatha. You weren't Nicky's mother, not even close, but you loved him. He was more like your nephew, a kid you took under your wing and taught little tricks.

That was the hammer to nail that was already piercing your doomed relationship.

It started out slow, but Agatha changed.

Her words were harsher, ranging from "Just get me the damn book." to "God why are you so fucking stupid? Can't you get anything done?" They made tears well in your eyes and your chest tighten uncomfortably as your fists clenched. She would make it up to you later with soft words and tender touches while her lips pressed against every inch of your body. Her skilled fingers would toy with your private parts, and she would smirk at your little whines.

The attacks from her were always verbal, never physical, but that didn't make it any worse. It made you feel as if the relationship you held so dear to your heart worth nothing. But you had worked so hard to keep her, to keep the one thing that mattered, close, and you were determined to keep it. No matter how much it hurt. If you thought about it enough, it didn't hurt. Agatha was just expressing her emotions freely. That was a good thing.

But one particular occasion was the end of line for you.

"Why can't you just get anything done?" Agatha's hands were thrown up as she ranted before she carded them through her hair, tugging at all the knots, "I asked for one thing, one thing! And you couldn't just fucking do it. It was so simple!" A familiar wetness gathered in your eyes as Agatha screamed at you. Anger boiled in your stomach, but it was overwhelmed by pure shame and sorrow. They ran through you like fire as you dipped your head down and heat filled your cheeks.

You were wrong for this all, you couldn't just do one thing. It was the 2000's now and Agatha looked as if she wanted to throw her phone across the room. But then her eyes locked onto yours and instantly she softened. Agatha stopped her yelling, for once stopping for some odd reason, and she gazed at you with some sort of odd look. It may have sympathy or even...regret? Sighing heavily, she tried to step closer, arms outstretched as if to hug you, but you took a hasty step back.

"No," you held your hand out, "I need- I need space right now."

She opened her mouth to say something, but you were already fleeing out the door, just barely managing to slip shoes on. You bit down on your lip harshly to stifle the sobs that threatened to tear from your throat. Faintly, you could feel the frustration rolling off of Agatha as she stood in the doorway of the house, but you wouldn't turn back. There was no way. She had hurt you one to many times by now. Blaming you for Nicky's death or just calling you plain stupid. It was too much, and you couldn't stand it anymore.

It was hours later when Agatha found you, curled into a ball behind the house as you rocked back and forth with your knees pulled up to your chest and wet tracks running down your face. You could hear her sigh when she found you and it only made your lips curl into a harsher scowl.

"Go away," you muttered. She merely sunk down next to you, her shoulder touching yours despite your flinch. "Go away, Agatha."

Her arms wrapped around you, covering you in a soft embrace of a rare warmth that she hardly gave anymore. She mostly gave you cold touches, the only warm ones being her fingers when they fucked you, and she pulled you into her lap. You whined in protest but all she did was hush you softly and rock back and forth. It was a soothing motion that calmed any sense of anger you had. Gently, her fingers brushed through your hair until it was all smoothed out.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against your head, words that you had never one heard uttered from her, "For being so shitty. I'll do better, I promise." There was a moment of silence. You let her words sink in, truly considering it. There was a chance she really meant it, that she would try and do better, but a part of you hardly believed it. "Look, I have a way to fix it."

And then the two of you were in Westview playing along to Wanda's spell. Agatha truly was better and not just for appearances, but rather because she was actually trying. There was still harsh words at times, one that hit way too close to home, but she always apologized after. Genuinely apologized rather than just doing it through sex. There was still her Agatha-like pride that stemmed from her apologies, a reluctance to admit she was wrong before brushing it off with a casual and teasing remark. You knew she meant it though and it was getting better.

Like old times she guided you through the process of taking the Scarlet Witch's power. She got so close to, the two of you becoming close to Wanda through her children. It truly was a beauty what the young witch had created unknowingly, this entire town was made through pure sorrow. You admired it a little. Wanda's children were sweet children, but you couldn't help but avoid them as much as possible. Kids still weren't your thing. Especially when they brought up memories of another kid you used to know.

Agatha nearly got Wanda's power before the Scarlet Witch put you both under a spell and trapped you in Westview for years. For some time, it was nice. It is almost peaceful. You were blissed out in the spell and you, and Agatha finally lived a good, nearly perfect, life. But you knew something was wrong, in the pit of your stomach, something wasn't right. It was all too nice, too perfect, and that wasn't how your life worked. It never worked out.

Rio woke the two of you up with her signature smirk and sarcastic remarks before some kid dragged the two of you away. The Witches Road was meant to be a myth, but when the two of you actually went on it, you realized who the boy was. Billy Maximoff. He was just like his mother.

You knew that Agatha actually hoped the road would get her what she wanted. But you didn't buy it. Especially when Rio became involved and when the two of you emerged from The Road into Agatha's backyard. You knew that it wouldn't happen. Billy and maybe a little bit of Rio, were orchestrating it all, whether they knew it or not.

Before you knew it, Agatha was surging forward, smashing her face into Rio's. Pain twinged in your heart as you watched black lines spread through her face and like Nicky, there was nothing you could do as she died. You still tried.

Racing forward as you realized she was taking Rio's power, you shoved Death away, hoping it wasn't too late. But it was. Agatha floated to the ground, all the life drained from her and Death taking over. You fell to your knees beside her, ignoring Rio and Billy.

"No," you sobbed, your head falling onto her stomach, "No, Agatha come on. You're not dead." The tears made it hard to speak but you managed to choke broken pleas out as you begged her to stay with you. It did nothing to her current state.

A bitter stream of grief coursed through you as you fisted into her dress. Why couldn't she stay? You had done everything to keep her with you and yet she just left you. Just like that. Without thought or hesitation, Agatha gave her life for some kid she hardly knew. She left you. Agatha made it look so simple. You don't think you would have left her like that.

Rio's hand landed on your shoulder, curling into your skin in a way that was meant to be comforting, but you found it anything but that. Regardless, you let it sit there for a moment, too absorbed in your grief to care. It could have been minutes or hours later before you jerked away from her. Standing harshly, you shoved at her shoulders, palms colliding with your skin. She let you. Rio did nothing as you shoved her again, trying to let your frustration out on her.

"You did this! You took her just like you took Nicky!" You screamed until your voice was raw, yet the tears still flowed freely down your cheeks. Rio let you take out your anger and pain. You could see the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes, but you hardly cared, too focused on your own. You hit Rio and shoved and screamed for so long before you sunk to the ground once more, not caring for the way your knees collided harshly with the dirt.

Your mother was gone. Your father was never there. Nicholas was dead. Agatha had given up what little the two of you still had so easily. And Rio, well when you glanced up briefly, she was gone too. You had nothing but wanted it all.

Why couldn't one of them stayed?

[irkimatsu]

God will never stop my sinful hand. More Husk/Reader! Clothes stay on but it's still spicy, gonna call 18+ on this one. Husk gets to nut his pants, good for him. You and Husk make out, you discover that his wings are an erogenous zone, and good times are had by all. Completely gender-neutral reader, nothing to point it in any direction gender-wise. This is about making Husk moan, that is all

Your relationship with Husk has progressed over the past few months.

What state it’s progressed to, you’re not quite sure. You’re far from the point of declaring undying love for each other; hell, Husk is hesitant about the word “love” in general. He doesn’t want to say it, and he doesn’t want to hear it. You haven’t had sex with him, either; you have no idea how you’d ask, and he hasn’t broached the subject himself.

But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t done anything together that could be construed as special. Even if he’s in no rush to define whatever it is you two have going on, he’s still shown you plenty of his romantic side. He likes taking you out for dinner and shows, events that are way too fancy for you to merely think of them as friendly outings.

The amount of times you’ve come home from a play to immediately make out in one of your rooms, before falling asleep in the same bed, made things seem even less “friendly”.

You didn’t even need the excuse of a date to start making out. Some nights, like tonight, all it took was some drinks and conversation at the hotel bar before you were both sure that the rest of the hotel was asleep or otherwise absent. As soon as he knew it was safe to close down for the night, the two of you headed up to his room for some soft jazz music and some tender, passionate kissing. He used to be so withdrawn with you, as if afraid you’d shatter if he touched you too firmly, but he’s gotten more bold recently, taking it upon himself to hold you close in his arms.

There’s no way you’d tell him, but you prefer cuddling with him when he’s dressed down like this, only wearing suspenders without a shirt. His fur is so soft and warm, and the fewer layers of clothing between you and it, the better.

You know to be careful with your compliments. He’s confided in you that he can’t stand what he’s become as a demon, and that he wishes he still had his human body.

But you can’t deny it. Some of your favorite parts of him, physically, are the parts that aren’t human.

His hat came off his head shortly into the proceedings, so you’re free to comb your hand through the tuft of hair on his head. It’s much more messy and wild than it is on your dates; he has zero reason to style it when he’s wearing his hat. You love it like this, though. It’s one of the softest things you’ve ever touched. Could human hair ever glide beneath your fingers this wonderfully?

You’re trying not to think of it as “petting” him. You know he hates that word. Perhaps “stroking” would work better for him? You stroke the top of his head, then move down to scratch the back. He stays calm, still kissing you like normal, so you keep moving until both of your hands reach the backs of his ears.

He jolts back from the touch.

“Sorry!” you cry out immediately. “Was that too far?”

“I’m sensitive back there,” he says, one ear still twitching from the contact. “Could you warn me next time?”

“Sorry!” you repeat. You know his irritability isn’t personal against you, but you still hate hearing that tone from him…

“It’s fine,” he says, quickly softening now that the shock is wearing off. “I didn’t hate it. You just gotta warn me before you do stuff like that.”

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He’s smiling again as he pulls you against his body. “Mind doing that again, now that I’m expecting it?”

You nod, and as he resumes kissing your mouth, you go back to scratching his ears. It’s a weird feeling, being able to touch someone like this during a make-out session; but you appreciate the novelty, especially when every inch of him feels so perfect beneath your fingers.

“Can you go lower?” he asks. “While scratching like that?”

You accept his request, scratching your way from his ears to his cheeks. His fur is so thick here, and it’s hard for you to pull your hands away from how divine it feels, but you have so much more to explore. You continue your scratches down to his neck, then to his shoulders. One of his suspender straps slips off while you’re scratching, and you’re dying to see how he looks when he’s slightly disheveled.

But looking would require you to stop kissing him, and you’re not ready to stop yet.

You’re so eager to feel even more of him. You touch him lower, reaching the small of his back and rubbing the spot where his wings meet his body.

He gasps and pulls away from you again. It takes him a moment to catch his breath.

“Husk?” you ask, not entirely sure what you did but already regretting it.

“...shit.” He exhales heavily. “Shit. Haven’t been touched there in a long time…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh…” he laughs nervously. “Not wrong, but… you probably shouldn’t do that. Not unless…” He stops himself and shakes his head. “No. You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” It didn’t look like it hurt him…

“It’s… an intimate spot.” Even through his fur, you can see him blushing. “Wings are sensitive. You shouldn’t touch them unless you want to turn somebody on.”

That information, combined with the sight of him with his suspender straps hanging off his shoulders, is turning some interesting gears in your head.

A playful smile grows on your face. “So what you’re saying is, if I want to turn you on…” You lean in closer, but don’t touch him yet; it’s up to him to close the gap if he so chooses.

Husk swallows. “If you want to…” He places his paws on your sides, holding you as timidly as he did when things first started. “I don’t wanna rush you into that, though.”

“You’re not rushing me.” You gently kiss his nose and scratch one of his cheeks.

You think you hear a purr in his throat, but you know better than to bring it up.

“Then go ahead,” he says, uttering it quickly to reduce the amount of time he has to spend not holding and kissing you. You quickly get back into the rhythm of things, repeating your hands’ earlier motions. He remains calm as you scratch his ears, his cheeks, his shoulders…

His waist bucks up into you when you touch the base of his wings, but he doesn’t pull away.

You start out slowly and fleetingly, not sure how much pressure he needs to feel the effects of your touches. Clearly it doesn’t take much. Within seconds, he’s squeezing you tightly and moaning into your mouth.

Where else is he sensitive, you wonder? You slowly run your fingertip along the edge of one of his wings, and his whole body shivers against yours.

“Fuck…” he mutters beneath his breath before kissing you again. “Gentle…”

You follow his request, lightly petting his wing with a single finger. It’s still enough to get him to kiss you harder and keep cursing under his breath. You run your finger back down to the joint and start pressing, steadily becoming more firm in your touch to test his reaction.

You eventually reach a point that makes him cry out, then breathe too heavily to kiss you anymore.

“Fuuuuuck…” His eyes are unfocused, and he seems unsure of what to do with himself. “Give me a second…”

You take your hands off of his body to let him compose himself. Once he’s finally aware of his surroundings again, he rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your waist in his arms. He’s nuzzling his soft cheek against your neck, and you don’t know if it’s making you feel more ticklish or aroused.

Both? Fuck, definitely both.

“Could you scratch under them?” he asks.

You place your hands beneath his wings and begin to scratch the joints from that angle. His feathers brush against your hands as he lightly flaps to your touch, and his hot breaths on your neck are rapidly increasing in strength and tempo.

“Harder,” he moans through gritted teeth, and you comply. The sounds he’s making now are downright lewd, mixed with the occasional inhuman growl. He’s grinding his waist against your leg, and even with his pants still on it’s obvious how excited you’re making him. His current behavior is so undignified for the gentleman who’s been taking you on dates and playing you songs for the past few months.

It’s a side of him you want to see even more of.

“Fuck, I can’t stop…” he squeezes your leg between his own and grinds furiously, his rapid breaths turing into high-pitched whines. “Fuck, fuck-”

You keep on touching him, delighting in how badly it’s making him squirm. 

“Gonna- fuck-” He lifts his waist as if he’s trying to pull away from you, but the death grip his legs have on you won’t allow it. “I can’t-”

“Go ahead,” you assure him, rubbing his wing joints just a little harder.

Whether it’s from the touch or the permission, you’ve awakened something inside him. Still a mess of growls, moans, and whines, he latches his mouth onto the side of your neck and starts nipping while his hips grind furiously into your leg. You moan along with him, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself stable just as much as they are to please him. It’s not long before he’s moaning against your neck as a wet spot pools in the spot where he’s still humping you.

He falls limp in your arms, and you immediately relieve the pressure on his wings, instead choosing to gently stroke his lower back. His breathing is heavy, but steady as he nuzzles into your neck again.

“Fuck…” His vocabulary isn’t the most varied right now.

He seems so spent after that, so you carefully lay him stomach-down on the bed, making certain not to give his surely-sensitive wings the slightest bit of stimulation. He folds his arms beneath his chin, and he laughs.

“Haa… gotta do that again. It’s been forever since I felt that good…”

You’d love to cuddle him in this state, but until you can figure out how to do that without disturbing his wings, you’ll settle for sitting next to him and watching him relax.

“Hey… Husk?” You ask. “I wanna ask you something…”

“Hm?” He doesn’t open his eyes as he answers.

“Would you have let someone else do that? Would you have enjoyed it as much?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s frowning in concern, forehead creased, but still not opening his eyes.

“It’s just… I don’t know what we are. Are we together, or…?”

He reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “I don’t like putting names on this stuff. It’s just asking for trouble. All I know is that I only want to be touched like that by someone I really trust, and right now, the person I trust that much is you.”

“And if you trusted someone else…?”

He’s laughing again. “Someone else, when I have you already? Not happening. Come on. Lay down with me.”

You lay on your stomach beside him, and he drapes his arm around you and pulls you against his side. His wing descends on you, and he winces slightly from the touch, but it’s not enough to keep him from covering you like a blanket.

“And you know…” he continues. “Not that I wanna control you… but I’d like knowing you don’t touch anyone else like that.”

“Someone else, when I have you already?”

He makes a low, amused noise as you parrot his words back at him. “Okay… good.” He squeezes you close and kisses your cheek. “Now, tell me something else.”

“What is it?”

“I wanna return the favor. Where should I start?”